Discussion Grounds

Tom,

Why do you believe? You write:

I believe because of the convergence of a whole constellation of reasons, ranging from my experience of God, to my experience of myself and other humans, to philosophical arguments and to historical evidences.

This is probably true for most Christians, though you probably have an unusual number of philosophical arguments and historical evidences in your own constellation. I certainly had a constellation of reasons supporting my belief in God when I was a Christian. I believed because of personal experience, the witness of loving and trustworthy people in my life, the authority of the Bible, and some vague philosophical and historical arguments (I think I had read a Lee Strobel book in my youth).

But one by one, my introduction to critical thinking yanked out each of these tent pegs until the whole thing collapsed. In my case, the first to go was my assurance about the Historical Jesus. The next to go was my confidence in theological reasoning. In particular, I was disturbed by the gap between what liberal theologians called the religion of Jesus and the religion about Jesus. The next to go were my confidence in the divine inspiration of Scripture and my willingness to defend its barbaric moral values. After that I studied philosophy of religion quite a bit and one by one the common arguments for the existence of God fell apart. Finally, I was left only with my experiences of God and the witness of the good Christians around me. But I knew that if I was going to be fair and honest in my pursuit of truth, I had to admit there were millions of people of other religions who had equally convincing experiences of their own gods, and were likewise surrounded by convinced and moral believers. To say my experiences were genuine while their’s were not would just be special pleading.

Speaking of your constellation of beliefs that support your Christian worldview, you write:

Each one of those reasons could be individually challenged, but as these challenges multiply in number, their strength weakens rather than grows; for they comprise a set of beliefs, all of which are necessary in order to sustain an atheistic viewpoint, and many of which are implausible. The result: it takes more “faith” to be an atheist than a Christian.

Now this confuses me. You say that as the challenges to your faith multiply, their strength weakens rather than grows, because all these challenges are positive beliefs that must be sustained to justify atheism. First, I don’t understand why it should be the case that as challenges to Christian beliefs multiply they actually become weaker. Challenges to Christian belief need not be seen as supporting atheism. They merely undermine Christianity. And the more challenges there are to Christian beliefs, the stronger the challenge to Christianity itself.

Second, let us consider the possibility that the challenges to your Christian beliefs are not implausible.

Third, you make it sound as if Christianity is the default position. In my experience, most challenges to Christianity are not “positive” arguments against Christianity or theism, but merely a realization of how very weak the positive case for Christianity and theism are. Christianity makes a long list of highly contentions claims, and it should offer support for them. I’m not sure what the default view should be – agnosticism, maybe? – but it is most certainly not Christianity. Christianity carries a heavy burden of proof, and a “challenge” to Christianity may be only the realization that it cannot carry this burden with regard to a particular claim.

Now, about theism as a properly basic belief, you write:

The sense in which theism can be properly basic is that of a direct awareness of God… Yet there is also a related, specifically Christian experience of God through the Holy Spirit…

So then what of evidences? They are not out of the picture at all. There are appeals to history and other evidences throughout the Bible. Look at it this way: God is pure and holy, and one of the things he is incapable of is lying. The Bible purports to be his Word, so it certainly ought not to affirm what is false. It makes claims about events in history. Historical events can be studied by methods of historical inquiry. If such study showed that the events recorded in the Bible did not happen or were significantly unlikely to have happened, then I would have to conclude that what I thought was a properly basic belief was an improperly basic error. [emphasis added]

Now this is a bit different than the notion of proper basicality with which I am familiar. It sounds like you may just mean that you have a direct inner perception of God, and that you think the best explanation for this subjective phenomenon is the real existence of God. In the same way, I now have a direct visual perception of a Vostro laptop, and I think the best explanation for this subjective phenomenon is the real existence of a Vostro laptop. But your belief in the real existence of God and my belief in the real existence of the Vostro laptop are not properly basic, for they are neither axiomatic nor incorrigible.

If so, then one approach I could take would be to argue that the best explanation of my direct visual perception of a Vostro laptop is the real existence of a Vostro laptop, while the best explanation of your direct visual perception of God is not the real existence of God.

I would then argue the same thing concerning your inner perception of the Holy Spirit and his witness to you about the truth of Christian doctrines. And I would continue with other claimed evidences – the historicity of the Bible, philosophical arguments, and so on.

But you probably resist my attempt to recast your “properly basic” theistic beliefs as resulting from arguments to the best explanation. In any case, would you care to defend your notion of the proper basicality of theism, whatever it is?

I have not defended my beliefs thus far. I am happy to do so, but I won’t just start rambling. I’ll wait for your questions of me.

Cheers,

Luke

Luke,

Thanks for answering my question in the spirit in which it was intended. No, my theology does not require me to believe there was a moral issue involved in your loss of faith, except in the universal sense that we all have an issue called sin to deal with. I don’t really think we need to get into that right now, because the main question I asked you has been answered.

I lived in Southern California for thirteen years, in Riverside, Pasadena, Tustin, and even 2 1/2 years in Big Bear Lake (beautiful country, but a very hard place to connect with people for friendships). It’s all changed a lot since I left there in 1993. I loved it there, except during and after the Landers and Big Bear earthquakes of 1992. What I miss most about Southern California is the diversity of people and environments there. It’s just a really interesting place to live.

In your third letter you identified this as a fundamental point at which our ways separate:

1. You think Christian belief is properly basic; I do not.
2. I think there is a possible world which contains nothing supernatural; you do not.

And it seems that your belief about the second springs from the first. So that is our point of divergence.

And you are concerned that

If Christian belief is properly basic to you – such that you believe it is warranted without a shred of evidence – then it will be hard to shake you from such a position, and ultimately futile to argue over the evidence itself!

That’s not quite the position I would state. First, I think that theism, not Christianity, can be a properly basic belief. I don’t know of anyone who would claim that knowledge of Christ can be had apart from the record of the Bible. The sense in which theism can be properly basic is that of a direct awareness of God, leading directly to belief in him. Yet there is also a related, specifically Christian experience of God through the Holy Spirit in which God confirms the truth of his Word to the believer.

So then what of evidences? They are not out of the picture at all. There are appeals to history and other evidences throughout the Bible. Look at it this way: God is pure and holy, and one of the things he is incapable of is lying. The Bible purports to be his Word, so it certainly ought not to affirm what is false. It makes claims about events in history. Historical events can be studied by methods of historical inquiry. If such study showed that the events recorded in the Bible did not happen or were significantly unlikely to have happened, then I would have to conclude that what I thought was a properly basic belief was an improperly basic error.

I could also have illustrated that point by referring to evidences relating to philosophical, existential, or even scientific considerations, not just historical. So if you’re worried that a discussion on evidences is moot, it’s not. I will admit that I do not expect or require evidences to produce certain proof with respect to God and Christ. I follow a best explanation approach instead: recognizing that any phenomenon could have multiple explanations, which one is the most satisfactory? And I also follow a cumulative evidence approach: no one set of evidences by itself can bear the whole weight of belief, but in concert with another they are very convincing.

So if the next question were, “Why do you believe, Tom?” I would begin my answer, “I believe because of the convergence of a whole constellation of reasons, ranging from my experience of God, to my experience of myself and other humans, to philosophical arguments and to historical evidences.” Each one of those reasons could be individually challenged, but as these challenges multiply in number, their strength weakens rather than grows; for they comprise a set of beliefs, all of which are necessary in order to sustain an atheistic viewpoint, and many of which are implausible. The result: it takes more “faith” to be an atheist than a Christian.

So that is my position in its most general, introductory form. I think a good direction to go from here would be to take some reasons for belief and work through them one at a time. What do you think?

Tom,

You’re not alone; most Christians who read my deconversion story have (tentatively) concluded that my loss of faith was a moral issue, not an intellectual one – despite my pains to emphasize the opposite. Perhaps your theology requires such a conclusion about infidels.

I am sure that many unconscious motives played a role in my deconversion. And personality certainly matters. If I was a less independent person, perhaps I would not have had the guts to sever such a central connection to my friends and family, even after learning what I learned. But as I tried to emphasize in my deconversion story, my deconversion was a thoroughly intellectual one. At least, that was my conscious experience of it.

I did experience a lot of needless guilty during my Christian years, though that was mostly before reading Dallas Willard. You seem to advocate a different path to spiritual health than Willard does, but trust me – a different theology or Christian practice would not have kept me in the fold. In fact I tried many different theologies because I did not want to leave. The problem was not that Christianity was difficult or guilt-inducing, or that one particular theology didn’t make sense. The problem was that I had no good reasons to think even Mere Christianity or theism were true, and lots of reasons to think they were false.

You’re concerned that the Christianity I reject is not the same as the Christianity you’re defending. But no, it’s the same. Earlier, you wrote that:

My views regarding Christ are summed up in the Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds, and in historic Protestantism. I believe in the Triune God: the Father; the Son, Jesus Christ as God’s fullest revelation, who lived, died, and rose again for the redemption of our sins; and the Holy Spirit who convicts us of sin, draws us to God through Christ, and guides and empowers believers in following Christ. I believe that God created the world and all of life, and that history is moving toward a consummation at the return of Jesus Christ. I believe that eternal life is a gift of God offered through Christ, and that to reject it is to choose instead eternity apart from God’s goodness and love.

…My position regarding the Bible is that it is the authoritative and trustworthy word of God, accurate in all that it affirms, and life-giving in the sense that to understand and walk in its truth is to walk in a living relationship with God.

My view on evolution is that science is still working out how life and the various species originated on earth, and various views of Genesis leave room for science to determine much of the facts; but the clear testimony of Scripture is that however life happened, it was God’s creative hand that made it happen…

…I think Plantinga is right that knowledge of God can be properly basic…

Yes, that is precisely the Christianity I reject.

So I think we’re back where we were before. Our next step seems to be to argue over our earliest point of divergence: whether or not Christian belief can be properly basic.

Oh, and I live in Los Angeles now. Minnesota is too cold! But I do miss the lakes, and the color green.

Cheers,

Luke

Good morning, Luke!

We have an extra hour given to us this morning (in the United States, that is) by the switch back to standard time, so it’s a good opportunity for me to check in here. Do you still live in MInnesota, by the way? I have family living about 35-40 miles south of your original home town of Cambridge—they’re in Circle Pines. (My home is in Yorktown, Virginia, which you probably already know from looking through my blog.)

Looking at your story here and on your blog, I wonder how accurate it is when you say you had a similar experience to mine. On your blog you summarize your growing-up years,

In many ways I regret my Christian upbringing. So much time and energy wasted on an invisible friend. So many bad lessons about morality, thinking, and sex. So much needless guilt.

And here you say,

Falling in love with God that way, wrote Willard, is a matter of spiritual discipline. The discipline that worked best for me was to remind myself every 30 seconds throughout each day of all the wonderful gifts God had given me – green trees, blue lakes, creature comforts, intelligence, a strong family, and so on. Once I started doing that, my Christian life became much easier. And yes, “the sky was bluer and the grass was greener the next day.” So I think I can identify with your experience!

To me that sounds an awful lot like my experience before I entered into a personal relationship with Christ. The change that I experienced was not from doing anything at all, except trusting Jesus Christ. It was most undoubtedly an inward transformation accomplished by God doing something in me. It wasn’t about resolving to change my ways, or even about resolving to be more aware of God and his goodness. It was a gift, not a discipline.

I won’t try to guess what “bad lessons” you were taught about morality, thinking, and sex, but “needless guilt” sounds very familiar, in the sense that earlier in my life I had a moral sense, which often led to awareness of moral failure, and I didn’t know what to do with that guilt. This is inevitable for anyone who has a moral sense at all, regardless of the content of that moral sense. You and I, neither of us being psychopaths lacking in all moral sense, were both bound to feel failure and guilt.

So what’s the solution to guilt? I can think of four or five potential options:

1. Adjusting moral beliefs to match behavior. If you paint the target around the arrow after you’ve shot it at the wall, you can never miss! This is a version of moral relativism (there are New Age variants that approach this too), and since neither of us is a relativist I don’t need to spend time on what’s wrong with that approach.
2. Nihilism or some version thereof, which gives up and says none of this matters. Neither of us are nihilists, either.
3. Trying a lot harder to do right until one finally succeeds. The severe problem with that is that no one ever finally succeeds in consistently doing what they really think is right.
4. Accepting moral realism without responsibility to a transcendent God, which I think might give one freedom to say, “Okay, I’m not perfect, but I’m doing the best I can, trying to grow, and what more can you expect?”
5. Forgiveness from God, living by his grace, and growing in character by the power of his inward working.

Based on the clues and hints in what you wrote, it sounds to me like possibly you grew up with a list of “Christian” do’s and don’ts, so thus you experienced a lot of what you now describe as needless guilt. Based on Willard’s book, you resolved to remind yourself every half-minute or so of God’s goodness, an approach with corresponds more or less with number 3: trying harder to do right. I think Divine Conspiracy is a truly great book, but there is a “map vs. fuel” distinction to be made.¹ The disciplines are not the way out of guilt; they are for those who know that God has already provided that solution through his grace.

In other words, it sounds to me like the Christianity you say you tried and rejected is a lot like the “Christianity” I previously tried and rejected, too.

I have things to say about the rest of your most recent letter, but in this one I have taking a dangerous risk of running with some hints and clues, and I might have gone the right direction or the wrong one. It sounds to me like now you are living with solution number 4 to your previous and/or current potential guilt. My inferences might be all wrong, though, so before bumbling on ahead with possibly wrong assumptions, I’d like to get your response to this much.

I trust you can see why this matters. If you think the Christianity you have rejected is the same as the Christianity I’m defending, when in fact it has much in common with a “Christianity” that I have also rejected, it would be important to bring that to light as early as possible.

1. The map/fuel problem applies to anyone who is trying harder to be or do better as a Christian, whether they have encountered Christ in a relational way already or not. [↩]