Posts Tagged “Theology”
Kenneth Hynek • 20th Jan 2010 • Religion, Philosophy, Stray Thoughts, Secularism makes you stupid • burden of proof, James Chastek, logic, reason, Theology
Chastek does what Chastek do:
The most well known “proof burden” is the burden of the prosecutor — but his burden is not tied to the reasonableness of his case. There is a reason to give the prosecutor the burden, but this reason is not tied to the facts or the reasonableness of his case. If this is the model for what a proof burden is, then we cannot get from “In the dispute between p and ~p, p has the proof burden” to “prior to argument (or if the argument is deadlocked), ~p is reasonable to accept”. This would be like saying “prior to the trial, or before we know anything about the case, it is reasonable to believe the defendant”- which is clearly not true. If I walk in on a courtroom procedure, or if it is my first minute on the jury, I don’t think that the defendant’s case is more reasonable, even though I recognize that that he does not have the burden of proof.
Fortunately, in genuine theological debate, burden of proof rests on the claimant making a claim, whether that claim is for or against the existence of God.
Still, it’s amusing how often one sees self-styled champions of reason hide behind their irrational application of the idea of a proof burden, thinking all the while that their own claims are somehow the more correct for not being subject to same (if only in their own view).
(Here’s hoping James won’t mind that I quoted his entire post!)
Kenneth Hynek • 24th Nov 2009 • Religion, Atheism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Theology • Christianity, evil, God, problem, Problem of Evil, Problem of Suffering, Theology
From Chastek:
Is the problem of evil is simply the problem of bad luck? Aren’t the evils we are wrestling with simply a matter of wrong place, wrong time, or of being dealt a bad hand?
I suppose this opens up the question of whether there is room, in Christian theology, for discussion of such things as luck, and whether luck even exists. Being at least somewhat Irish, I’m given to believe that it does, and that it does exert some force in the world (whether for good or for ill).
But I think Chastek gets at the heart of what is really the most serious flaw in objections to God’s benevolence/goodness which are based on the “problem of evil”: is the problem really that God is lacking in goodness or benevolence, or is it simply a case of various human/natural circumstances piling up in such a way as to bring us misfortune, through no fault of God’s? Indeed, is the suffering — the evil — we endure really a genuine problem in the first place, or do we simply label it as such out of our flawed human reasoning?
Kenneth Hynek • 24th Aug 2009 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, History, Religion, Protestantism, Religion, Theology • atheism, Calvinism, Christ, DRB, exegesis, God, Jesus, John C. Wright, John Calvin, limited atonement, reason, resurrection, Sex, sexual revolution, the Church, Theology, US
Near the very end of John C. Wright‘s series of articles — in the final article, in fact — was buried a comment that made me reflect on a certain tenet of Calvinism: limited atonement.
Like most Calvinist teachings, limited atonement is bollocks, though not because it is patently false. Rather, it mixes truth and falsehood in some measure. Unlike some other Calvinist tenets, it’s not the sort of thing that’s nice in theory but not workable in reality; the errors with this doctrine are purely within the realms of Theology, exegesis, and reason.
And in fact, arguing against the tenet is quite easy. Far too many Protestants — including and perhaps especially those of a Calvinist bent — like to use John 3:16 as a forum or email signature. And while there’s nothing wrong with using Scripture in this capacity, there is a problem in that they often use this particular verse in ignorance of its complete meaning. This is especially the case for those who believe that false doctrine called limited atonement.
What does John 3:16 say, then? In the DRB, it is rendered thusly:
For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.
For completeness, we should also consider the two verses that follow.
For God sent not his Son into the world, to judge the world: but that the world may be saved by him.
He that believeth in him is not judged. But he that doth not believe is already judged: because he believeth not in the name of the only begotten Son of God.
One could exegete these three verses to assault another Calvinist tenet as well, but let’s table that matter for now and focus on two key points regarding atonement that the above verses teach, concerning its scope and the means by which man can attain its saving power.
John separates these two categories remarkably well. Concerning the first — atonement’s scope — he is explicit: “For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son…that the world may be saved by him.” Christ was sent into the world to save the world, not just an “elect” subset of the world. John makes no bones about this! The Gospel does not say that “God so loved his own, as to give his only begotten Son…that his regenerate may be saved by him.”
At this point, we could almost stop; noting only as much as we have already done is actually sufficient. Limited atonement — basically, that Christ’s death and resurrection only atoned for the sins of “regenerate” Christians — is obviously false, as Scripture itself indicates. Christ was sent to save all the world, and as such His death must necessarily have atoned for the sins of all the world.
So why does Calvinism teach limited atonement?
There was a recent incident in the US in which a deranged man shot up an exercise class at a gymnasium, before turning the gun on himself. On his blog, discovered some hours later, he detailed his reasons for killing…but also talked at length about his former pastor’s somewhat liberal stance on what Christ’s atonement meant. In his (errant) view, Jesus had already atoned for the sins he was about to commit, so he had to fear no eternal condemnation for either his pending murders or his present-day atheism.
Presumably, he received a rather rude awakening when he pulled the trigger for the final time.
Now, why do I mention this?
It is not, by any means, a new heresy, this teaching that since Christ atoned for the sins of all, all are saved regardless of their deeds or beliefs. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of the name of the relevant historical heresy that taught this…but I am fairly certain that such a heresy was seen in the earlier days of the Church.
I half-suspect that in inventing the doctrine of limited atonement, Calvin was attempting to argue against this heresy; that he was doing so in a way itself heretical is rather ironic. Oh, to be fair, the doctrine also proceeds, logically, from other Calvinist tenets — if one is going to believe that some people are born already, and then inexorably, damned, it’s not exactly a leap of great distance to likewise believe that Jesus did not die to atone for the sins of all mankind. It may be patent stupidity to believe as much, but it’s not illogical.
The problem, however, is that such a view isn’t really defensible from Scripture.
Oh, one could attempt to sneak the limitation in by the back door and argue that BELIEF (or disbelief) is predestined. This addresses the other category John talks about — how mankind accesses the salvation that flows out of Christ’s atonement for our sins. About this point, John is fairly specific: “…whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting…he that doth not believe is already judged: because he believeth not in the name of the only begotten Son of God.” John does leave it to later authors — Paul and James, especially — to expand upon what it means to believe in Christ, and Jesus himself gives plenty examples of what the full implications, obligations, and responsibilities of being a believer are.
And to be fair, one could get into a lengthy discussion about whether individual men and women are, in fact, predestined to believe, or predestined to eschew belief, in Christ.
But equally, so what? The issue is atonement, which we’ve already established cannot be limited, else Scripture be found to teach falsely. Even if some are predestined to never come to the faith necessary for access to the salvation that flows from that atonement (and I’m granting a very big “if” there*), this does not in any way mean that atonement itself is limited.
Now, I mentioned John C. Wright, and the good reader could be forgiven for wondering at this point just where he fits into the picture. As I noted previously, he said something that got this train of thought moving for me. Here, then, is his observation:
Christ bled and died for my enemies, the Leftists and the sexual revolutionaries, as well as for those tempted by sexual sins and lures. Not only must I pray for my enemies, I must do so even though that act or prayer holds me up to their derision. Since Christ died for them, I cannot hold these people up to the scorn they deserve, or mock their weaknesses, since those things are of secondary or even of no importance in the grand scheme of things.
What this statement got me thinking about was the implications of, especially, the first sentence if it were somehow proven that limited atonement was a valid and true doctrine. Do you see how the calculus would change, good reader? For, if Christ did NOT die for the sins of our enemies, if He did not bleed for them, then we need not pray for them…indeed, since they are inexorably damned, it would be a waste of breath and effort to do so! And since Christ did not die for “them,” there is no reason to spare them scorn, mockery, or derision for their weaknesses and sins.
One could even go so far as to argue that one’s enemies cannot be called “children of God,” and so need not even be thought of as brothers and sisters…which, in turn, means that one is free to pour out even hatred upon them, without fear of bring condemned as a murderer.
You laugh, good reader, but I’m not inventing anything here; I have heard such arguments before.
And indeed, we can see exactly such sentiments expressed in the writings and deeds of John Calvin, who once wrote that he would sooner murder — or see murdered — a good friend rather than see the man revert to being a ‘papist,’ and whose persecutions of Catholics were substantially more vicious and cruel than the persecutions Catholics are accused (rightly or wrongly) of carrying out against early Protestants.
Whatever spirit the man felt himself being led by, it was not the spirit of Jesus. And in like manner, whatever spirit gave rise to this doctrine of limited atonement was not the spirit of Christ.
One can only pray, then, that this alien spirit did not lead Calvin’s soul to ruin, just as one must pray that following his poisonous teachings will not lead millions more souls to ruin.
What else can one do? Christ died even for Calvin, and for those who continue to preach his bilgewater doctrines.
* * *
* I cannot state in strong enough terms how odious a doctrine Calvinist predestination is. If we were to abstract life as a swimming pool, in which those who come to know salvation are those able to tread water for a set time, Calvinist predestination would be the teaching that Jesus deliberately holds some people’s heads under the water and drowns them…”for the glory of God.”
It’s an ugly teaching, and a temptation I struggle to resist (and then more often than I care to admit) is the temptation to hope that it is a damnable teaching.
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Kenneth Hynek • 27th May 2009 • Religion, Atheism, Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Philosophy, Stray Thoughts, Secularism makes you stupid, The Sciences, Space, Religion, Theology • alcohol, Arthur C. Clarke, atheism, Childhood's End, Christianity, Clive Staples Lewis, DS9, ET, extraterrestrial life, Gene Roddenberry, God, John C. Wright, life, Mark Shea, money, Prime Directive, redemption, Religion, Religion and Rocketry, Rome, Space, Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation, the Church, Theology, TNG, Vatican, Will We Lose God in Outer Space?, women
Well, okay, there’s the fact that the Prime Directive a) makes no sense to me and b) infuriates me for how it is alternatively an object of slavish devotion or an easily-ignored suggestion, depending on the emotional investment of the ship’s captain in the people (read: women) whom the Directive says should be ignored.
And there’s the “no alcohol” thing.
And the “no money” thing.
But above and beyond those considerations, Star Trek: The Next Generation has always bugged me for the whole “no Religion” thing that the Federation has going for it, and its portrayal of same as some kind of post-Christian secular utopia in which the needs of all are taken care of and nobody lives out life in a way that could be called “set upon.” And not only because the concept of a post-religious secular utopia is every bit as much a fantasy as an effective spaceborne cloaking device that functions in the manner portrayed in Star Trek. No, my problem with the concept stemmed from the fact that Star Trek was still about humans, and humans — at least while they are still beings with mortal flesh — cannot thrive in a utopia. Nor could they fashion one for themselves, as numerous bloodbaths throughout history (and then often in conjunction with atheism at a state policy level) have demonstrated.
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine did wonders in (ahem) “breaking the spell” that Gene Roddenberry cast when putting together TNG‘s underlying philosophy. It showed a Federation that was still plagued by organized crime, which still had poverty of sorts to deal with, and which still was vulnerable to — and complicit in — all manner of machinations and duplicity. TNG seems, to me, to be almost farcical in its portrayal of humans in an empirical paradise; DS9 strips away the facade and reminds its viewers that a human-made secular utopia is just that: human made, and thus prone to error and failure.
Still, thanks to the likes of far too many pop culture atheists who have been in some orbit of humanity’s efforts to explore Space, a certain peculiar delusion has been fixed in the mind of many who eschew the notion of God in favour of the notion of Martians:
[Self-styled Brights know] ahead of time that Catholics are censorious idiots who fear Truth. So it only stands to reason that Rome fears the discovery of life on other worlds because the first Vulcan we meet will conclusively prove that advanced civilizations have outgrown the god myth and Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End is the only truly prophetic book ever written. Therefore, it can only be that “Rome” is preparing a last-ditch spin defense for That Great and Terrible Day: the Definitive Eschatological Event when the Hope of Atheists is fulfilled as we make First Contact with ET and our Elder Intergalactic Brothers Who Have Outgrown god Reassure Atheists They Were Right All Along.
…
The curious thing is that atheist materialists, deluded by their fantasy philosophy, tend to inhabit a mental universe populated by creatures of Gene Roddenberry’s imagination rather than cold hard fact. As strange as it sounds to say it, the best thing these allegedly scientific atheists could do here is stop listening to fairy tales about Klingons and Vulcans and face the fact that the real non-human intelligences have been known to the Church since its birth. They are called “angels” and “devils”. The only thing the Church (and real science) is agnostic about is the existence of organic intelligent creatures. If it turns out God made those too, then glory to God! He can do as He likes. It is, after all, His universe.
Of course, if as a Christian you try and argue as much, you’re liable to be told that you’re just covering your ass. That was the general response to recent statements made by the Vatican concerning how the discovery — should it ever happen — of extraterrestrial life would pose no threat to Christian faith or Theology.
But in truth, as Mark Shea notes in his article (linked above), Christians really aren’t threatened by the possibility of aliens, until and unless certain specific criteria are met:
The best short essays I’ve seen on this question are from C.S. Lewis. One is called “Religion and Rocketry” and the other is “Will We Lose God in Outer Space?” Lewis points out several basic criteria that have to be met before organic life on other worlds would pose a theological problem to Christianity.
- First, it has to exist, which we don’t know.
- Second, it has to be sentient. Alien oysters cannot sin any more than ours do.
- Third, it has to have fallen. An unfallen race is not in need of redemption.
- Fourth, we have to know that, being fallen, it has been denied the chance of redemption by God. How on earth (or Thulcandra) we’d ever figure that out beats me.
- Fifth, we have to know that the redemption will be forever denied this hypothetically existent, hypothetically rational, hypothetically fallen race. After all, if you’d visited earth 10,000 years ago you would not have seen too many obvious clue that redemption was in the works for us. And since the only way to know that God has no plans to redeem them is to know the mind of God, this seems an especially tricky hurdle to get over.
- Sixth, we have to know that redemption via an incarnation, death and resurrection of God the Son in this fallen alien nature is the only way in which God redeems fallen creatures and that such a redemption will never be granted such creatures.
As Lewis says, if our faith never encounters a bigger challenge than this, we are sitting pretty.
Just so. And while I cannot remember if it was Mr. Shea or John C. Wright who said it first, I too tend to wonder if the day we do meet ET, we will not be wiped out by them not because we are primitive God-fearing savages with no hope of achieving the enlightenment that will wipe away all our myths, but because the visitors will step off of their shiny spacecraft and ask: “Where is he who has been born king of the No’top’qua’hi? For we have seen his star in Malfethica, and have come to worship him.”
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Kenneth Hynek • 22nd May 2009 • Religion, Atheism, Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Evolutionary Creationism, The Sciences • Adam and Eve, Book of Genesis, creationism, Earth, God, ID, Intelligent Design, Philosophy, Religion, science, the Bible, Theology
Binks clarifies a few of his remarks in response to my previous mention of his comments on Intelligent Design. He has, I think, misunderstood some of what I said, so I should clarify a few points in turn.
But let me first state that I was, in fact, unaware of his article “Intelligent Creationism & Godless Materialism.” It touches on a number of points I agree with, and I would agree with Binks that, in general, it is a good “short answer” to give to the question “what’s wrong about ID?”
The only thing I would wonder at is why he felt it necessary to deliver the answer, in his words, “without being a materialist, or a creationist, or anything else that fits the terms of the current debate.” Granted, his desire to not answer as a materialist is an understandable one…but if there is a rational objection to Intelligent Design which can be articulated from the perspective of belief in a divine creator, why not articulate that objection, especially if one is in fact a creationist (which is to say only that one believes in a creator).
But I digress.
Where my thinking diverges from Binks’ is, I think, in regard to the definitions we apply to the term “creationism” in the first place. There are basically two definitions of the word, one popular and one “academic” (which is not the best term for it, but which is about the only term I can think of):
- the belief that the Book of Genesis contains a literal account of historical events which took place beginning 6,000 to 10,000 years ago (and that the Earth‘s age is likewise within that range), and thus the belief that God made the world in seven literal days, and that all of humanity is descended from Adam and Eve
- the belief that God made (created!) the world by some means
Note the difference. The second definition is simply the belief in a creator (I go the extra step of making explicit mention of God), which is to say that it is a rejection of the assertion that all things came into being randomly or by chance, and solely as the product of natural phenomena. The first definition is certainly what most would think of when confronted with the term “creationist,” but in truth presents a picture of only a limited subset of all creationists.
Put plainly: if you believe that the world was made rather than that it simply developed under no influence from any extrinsic force or entity, you are a creationist of some sort. I go to great lengths, and take great pains, to make this point as often as possible, because I think an important step in the origins debate that we Christians need to take is to recapture the term “creationist” from those who have currently co-opted it.
I do, however, entirely agree with Binks when he says:
The doctrines of a prime mover or creation or God’s power to make –- these are different from the attempt to assert the absolute scientific historicity of ever detail in the first two chapters of Genesis. That’s poor Religion, worse Philosophy, and bad science.
…
In fact, it’s possible to say that literalistic creationoids and dogmatic anti-theistic Darwinoids are twins, the two sides of a modern coin, both arguing over historicity and evidence in a way foreign to scientific tradition on the one hand, or the Bible within Christian Theology on the other.
This says it about as well as it can be said.
At any rate, Binks is more than welcome if he in fact derived some value from the opportunity to clarify his thoughts. It’s nice to think I prompted that. In one final correction, I should clarify that my choice of title was meant to express my own desire to avoid making what I was about to write sound like a woodshedding of Denyse for what she said. It was certainly not a declaration of expectation on my part.
But it’s good to know that such a fate has been avoided all the same.
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Kenneth Hynek • 12th May 2009 • Religion, Atheism, Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Evolutionary Creationism, The Sciences, Family, The kidlet • Adam and Eve, AIG, Alan Hayward, Answers in Genesis, Arco, atheism, Atlantic Richfield, Carl R. Froede, Christ, Christianity, Creation Research Society Quarterly, creationism, CRSQ, Denis O. Lamoureux, Earth, evolutionary creationism, Glenn Morton, God, Henry Morris, ICR, ID, Intelligent Design, Jesus, Jim Bell, John Baumgardner, John Woodmorappe, Michael Behe, Noah, Royal Truman, Satan, science, Shell, Steve Robertson, the Bible, theistic evolution, Theology, YEC, Young Earth Creationism
I come down hard — sometimes very hard — on fallacies like Young Earth Creationism (YEC) and Intelligent Design (ID) (of the sort for which Michael Behe, for example, is a proponent). In the case of YEC, I openly equate the viewpoint with, essentially, idolatry. In the case of ID, which I don’t discuss as much, I am simply open about how I think it is in error, and misguided besides.
Actually, both viewpoints are misguided, especially in what could be called their unspoken aim. Don’t get me wrong: I both understand and applaud the attempt to reconcile, by various means, the belief that the Bible is the inspired, inerrant Word of God with the discoveries made by various branches of the broad field of studies called science. I take issue with the method of reconciliation (especially with the YEC method, which tends to be less of an attempt to reconcile as it does an attempt to demonize dissenting opinions), to be sure, but I can sympathize with the intent behind the method, and with the faith that informs it.
But in both ID and YEC, there is something with which I cannot sympathize. Dr Denis O. Lamoureux, whom I was fortunate enough to take classes in this area of Theology from, calls it “crypto-positivism.” I actually don’t entirely agree with that label, but I do agree that it’s crypto-something, in that it’s an unspoken and not-necessarily realized attempt on the part of proponents of YEC and ID. And the thing being attempted, essentially, is to prove God exists.
Think about it, for just a short while.
Ultimately, what’s the underlying motivation behind attempting to prove that e.g. the eye could not have evolved by purely random/unguided means? What’s the motivation behind attempting to prove that the story of Noah is amply supported by geological evidence? Ultimately, I think the motive is to somehow prove, beyond doubt and by empirical means, that God — and then specifically the Judeo-Christian God, in the case of most strains of YEC and a few strains of ID — actually exists.
And I think that misses the point entirely.
That is to say, I don’t think the point is to prove that God exists by empirical means, or even to prove that He must have intervened in creation in specific, identifiable ways. God’s existence is, first and foremost, an article of faith, and then one which comes with certain requirements attached to it. In essence, then, the underlying motive of YEC and ID is rather like an attempt to prove, beyond doubt, that rock is the best musical genre.
And indeed, rock may well be the best musical genre. But for fans of rock, concrete proof that rock is the best is, at best, superfluous and unnecessary. And for people who have no appreciation for music in the first place, concrete proof is, at best, meaningless, because they still just hear noise. It may be the best noise, but even the best noise is still just…noise.
There’s also an additional concern at work here, that of weak faith. As an evolutionary creationist, I’m used to hearing the charge that my faith is somehow weak or compromised…and maybe it is. I concede the possibility of my being wrong.
But equally, I’m not the one attempting to prove that God exists, even implicitly.
This is something I genuinely wonder. I would at least hope that proponents of ID and YEC are not so seriously misled as to think that even their best arguments will do much to move the hearts of most people who are set against believing in a creator God. And if so, I wonder for whose benefit they truly labour? Do they pursue their own version of the curse of Sisyphus, or are they working to provide empirical evidence for God because their own faith is not strong enough to endure in the absence thereof? That is to say, is the faith of e.g. a Young Earther strong enough to survive being shown incontrovertible evidence that the Earth is, in plain point of fact, far older than 6,000 to 10,000 years?
And here’s the rub: that’s not a spurious question.
YEC (and to a lesser degree, ID) establish what is called a false dichotomy; they work from the assumption that science and religion are in conflict to some degree, and propose that the degree to which there exists such a conflict is the degree to which science/scientists are incorrect/lying/deceived by the Devil/doing Satan’s work/etc. That’s fine if in fact it is true that a conflict exists. But there’s two issues that emerge from proceeding in this fashion, two questions that emerge:
- Does a conflict actually exist?
- If in fact a conflict exists, which side is actually in error?
These questions can be considered together or separately; I will proceed more according to the latter paradigm than the former. And to get the pedantic stuff out of the way first, I will say that the answer to the first question is an unqualified “no.” (This actually removes the need to answer the second question.)
But let’s assume for a minute that a conflict does exist. Working under that assumption, let’s look at the second question. Which side is actually in error? For a proponent of YEC or ID, the usual assertion is that it is science and scientists that are in error. God’s Word, such individuals will assert (this is especially common among Young Earthers), cannot be in error.
And to be fair, I will concede the point: God’s Word cannot be in error. But it’s not enough to say that much, because when we’re arguing origins we’re not just talking about God’s Word as a static thing; we’re talking about competing interpretations of God’s Word (that is: Scripture). And interpretation, unlike God’s Word, is not inerrant and infallible. Being a human enterprise, interpretation can be (and often is) brutally, glaringly, and staggeringly incorrect.
So we come back to the second question: which side is in error? Is science always in error? Or can the interpretation of Scripture that “the other side” is using perhaps be in error, instead?
I link, above, to an account by Glenn Morton. He’s not exactly an unknown to proponents of, especially, YEC, especially since he was one himself once. Indeed, he published over 20 articles for a journal called Creation Research Society Quarterly (website here). You can still find Morton’s work on the CRSQ website, in fact.
If you look up references to Morton within the YEC community now, however, you won’t find him mentioned in a positive light. In a fit of Christian charity, for example, Answers in Genesis describes him as a “renegade former young-earth creationist (now theistic evolutionist).” Morton himself lists some of the many things he has been called and/or accused of due to his change of viewpoint:
Here is a list of what young-earthers have called me in response to my data: ‘an apostate,’(Humphreys) ‘a heretic’(Jim Bell although he later apologised like the gentleman he is) ‘a compromiser’(Henry Morris) “absurd”, “naive”, “compromising”, “abysmally ignorant”, “sloppy”, “reckless disregard”, “extremely inaccurate”, “misleading”, “tomfoolery” and “intentionally deceitful”(John Woodmorappe) ‘like your father, Satan’ (Carl R. Froede — I am proud to have this one because Jesus was once said to have been of Satan also.) ‘your loyality and commitment to Jesus Christ is shaky or just not truly genuine’ (John Baumgardner 12-24-99 [Merry Christmas]) “[I] have secretly entertained suspicions of a Trojan horse roaming behind the lines…” Royal Truman 12-28-99
Morton tells his story of how his viewpoint was converted, which I note that at least one author on AIG dismisses as being fairly typical. I’m not interested, as much, in discussing the specifics of Morton’s conversion, save to note that while it may be fairly typical, it was rooted every step of the way in truth. He was not converted by brainwashing, but by evidence that he himself processed, analyzed, interpreted, and studied over the course of many years, while working in the seismic department at Atlantic Richfield.
Here’s the part of Morton’s story, though, that I do want to focus on: where he ended up once he realized that the truth of the weight of evidence against the Young Earth viewpoint was simply too great.
…being through with creationism, I very nearly became through with Christianity. I was on the very verge of becoming an atheist. During that time, I re-read a book I had reviewed prior to its publication. It was Alan Hayward‘s Creation/Evolution. Even though I had reviewed it 1984 prior to its publication in 1985, I hadn’t been ready for the views he expressed. He presented a wonderful Days of Proclamation view which pulled me back from the edge of atheism. Although I believe Alan applied it to the earth in an unworkable fashion, his view had the power to unite the data with the Scripture, if it was applied differently. That is what I have done with my views. Without that I would now be an atheist.
This is where my concern rests. Remember that question I posed previously? Is the faith of e.g. a Young Earther strong enough to survive being shown incontrovertible evidence that the Earth is, in plain point of fact, far older than 6,000 to 10,000 years? Such evidence exists, and then in copious quantity. Do proponents of YEC have enough faith to emerge as believers after breaking out of their hermetically sealed information bubbles and seeking out, honestly, full exposure to all the evidence against their views? Do proponents of ID have enough faith to do likewise?
It’s not a spurious question. There’s one other part of Morton’s article I want to highlight, which illustrates what I’m getting at:
…eventually, by 1994 I was through with young-earth creationism. Nothing that young-earth creationists had taught me about geology turned out to be true. I took a poll of my ICR graduate friends who have worked in the oil industry. I asked them one question.
“From your oil industry experience, did any fact that you were taught at ICR, which challenged current geological thinking, turn out in the long run to be true? ,”
That is a very simple question. One man, Steve Robertson, who worked for Shell grew real silent on the phone, sighed and softly said ‘No!’ A very close friend that I had hired at Arco, after hearing the question, exclaimed, “Wait a minute. There has to be one!” But he could not name one. I can not name one. No one else could either. One man I could not reach, to ask that question, had a crisis of faith about two years after coming into the oil industry. I do not know what his spiritual state is now but he was in bad shape the last time I talked to him.
YEC and ID are false. They propose false dichotomies between science and faith. But I should qualify my statements here.
ID is correct in that creation does reflect design, but is incorrect in assuming that the design can be asserted and evidenced by pointing to structures that do not have complete evolutionary explanations at this time. Design in creation is not overt; it is in-built. The evolutionary process is itself design-reflecting, as are all of its products. Things like irreducible complexity are not actual empirical “proofs” of the designer’s involvement, and to assert that they are is to assert the fallacious “God of the Gaps” model of argument.
YEC is correct in that everything was created, and then by God as revealed in the Bible, but is incorrect in assuming that the truth of creation renders the truths uncovered by scientific inquiry false by definition. The evolutionary process is itself ordained and sustained by God, as are all of its products. Things like geological evidence for the flood, and people like Adam and Eve, simply do not (and did not) exist, and the world is far older than the sum of the durations of the genealogies listed in Scripture.
And because both viewpoints are false in certain ways, a pastoral concern exists which is damningly highlighted in Morton’s account.
Man is a fallen creature, and then often a pessimistic one (I tend to be, to be sure). Because of this, when people who have grown up in the hermetically sealed information bubble that e.g. most proponents of YEC operate within manage to break free and enter into the wider world and encounter evidence that concretely undermines either the YEC or ID position, they will not tend to retain the good and correct parts of their viewpoint and their faith even as they reject the incorrect points. Like Morton almost did, like some of his colleagues almost certainly did, and like some of my friends have certainly done, they will reject both the false teaching of ID or YEC and the faith that had previously informed it.
And it’s not the evidence of science that is to blame for that loss of faith; geology, biology, and cosmology are not the things which have caused the now-lost one to stumble. The blame for their loss, and the blood of their condemnation, is on the hands of ID or YEC, and on the hands of the proponents thereof who preached a falsehood in the first place, and who set up all the necessary conditions for that loss of faith to occur.
Perhaps I should qualify that statement as well, for there are some on the opposite side of the equation who may also bear a share of the blame. JIMPITHECUS, the blogger at Science and Religion, notes:
I have long thought that if young earth creationists really got what they wanted, to have creationism taught in public schools, there would be a massive push-back in the form of science teachers exposing the young earth “evidence” for what it is and that this would lead to many people going away from the faith.
But even in these cases, the blame would not rest completely with the teachers, who in presenting real evidence (albeit accompanied, perhaps, by false conclusions drawn from it) would not have been totally in the wrong. Even in this scenario, the proponents of ID and YEC bear much of the blame for the loss of faith that would, could, and, in real life, does occur.
That’s why I do what I do. I’m not hear to undermine Scripture. I’m not here to undermine Christ. I don’t work to preach a weak faith, a kind of deism, or a variety of “weak tea” liberal theology. I work to preserve the faith of others by promoting a message that one doesn’t have to choose between having ardent faith and between accepting the plain facts of the natural world. One can have both!
One should have both.
(hat tip)
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