Tuesday, May 27, 2008

God, Rationality and Revelation

Recently, a letter written by Albert Einstein to a philosopher named Eric Gutkind, penned just before his death, was auctioned at Bloomsbury Auctions in London, demonstrating his dismissal of belief in God. In it he writes,

The word God is for me nothing more than the expression and product of human weaknesses, the Bible a collection of honourable, but still primitive legends which are nevertheless pretty childish. No interpretation no matter how subtle can (for me) change this. These subtilised interpretations are highly manifold according to their nature and have almost nothing to do with the original text. For me the Jewish religion like all other religions is an incarnation of the most childish superstitions. And the Jewish people to whom I gladly belong and with whose mentality I have a deep affinity have no different quality for me than all other people. As far as my experience goes, they are also no better than other human groups, although they are protected from the worst cancers by a lack of power. Otherwise I cannot see anything 'chosen' about them.
Einstein’s words here perhaps represent what most intellectuals in modern society think about God. On the one hand, many are thoughtful enough to acknowledge the utility and even necessity of the idea of God. Yet, on the other hand, they are too sophisticated (and, perhaps, a bit too cynical) to embrace the ‘religious trappings’ of theism. Historically, the progression since the Enlightenment has tended from biblical theism (as contemplated in Augustine, Anselm, Aquinas, etc.) toward a certain philosophical theism (e.g., Rene Descartes and Immanuel Kant), which became disconnected from the revealed God of Scriptures. God, they insisted, had to be established on purely ‘rational’ grounds, i.e., what was accessible through reason and sense perception alone. The progression (or digression) continued on toward Deism (e.g., Voltaire and Thomas Jefferson), in which God was reduced to the cosmic “First Cause” of Newton’s clockwork universe, becoming effectually removed from the stage of history (cosmic or human). Finally, we see a trend toward an impersonal force or intelligence, ontologically integrated with the universe itself, as witnessed in Spinoza, Hegel, and later in Einstein and other recent physicists. Often such modern, Westernized pantheism borders on the mystical, even among scientists (e.g., quantum theorist, David Bohm).

So Einstein was not an atheist in the sense that he wanted to deny any force beyond what science could explain. As he wrote in his letter to Gutkind,

Try and penetrate with our limited means the secrets of nature and you will find that, behind all the discernible laws and connections, there remains something subtle, intangible, and inexplicable. Veneration for this force beyond anything that we can comprehend is my religion. To that extent I am, in fact, religious.
On the other hand, he clearly rejected theism and belief in any personal God. As in Kant’s conception, Einstein’s deity was a metaphysically necessary “ground” for rationality (and, in Kant’s case at any rate, morality), but ultimately beyond the scope of human reason and observation. The deity is shrouded in impenetrable mystery. He is the ultimate, philosophical God of the gaps - and in those dark caverns of human ignorance he is confined forever. He is the ding an sich, and therefore unknown to us. The assumption here, of course, is that human reason and observation is all we have…

The idea of God is necessary in order to ground the scientific endeavor (e.g., giving warrant to the presuppositions of comprehensibility, uniformity, the validity of empirical study and inductive reasoning, etc.). However, we are also told that we are limited by those same presuppositions as to what we can and cannot assert about God. Take miracles for example. Many have argued that miracles are impossible by definition, as they would presumably interrupt the uniformity of natural law. Hence, the Creator who grounds the natural world apparently cannot in turn act to interfere with it. For Deists, such a god is thus self-limiting. For pantheists, however, he cannot do otherwise; for he is the embodiment of the universe’s intrinsic and integrated rationality. Either way, the deity’s hands are tied by his own, physical laws.

However, as philosophers have pointed out, it seems more consistent, not to confidently reject the possibility of the miraculous, as did the rationalists, but to simply confess (as we do wherever we approach such limits in science, e.g., on the edge of the singularity of the Big Bang): at this point, we simply do not, and within the strictures of science, cannot know. Science cannot speak assertively to the reality of the miraculous per se – by definition. To argue for or against it is to go beyond the scope of the defining, scientific method. Rather, to make such assertions, one way or the other, is to lean, by faith, on our presuppositions.

I tend to agree with Kant and others that God cannot be absolutely proved positively. Though there is warrant to the traditional arguments for God, I find, there is an even more compeling case to be made for God as a necessary hypothesis. This is the essence of the so-called “transcendental argument,” so powerfully used by Kant in epistemology and, to a lesser extent, in ethics.

However, the Christian worldview goes beyond the transcendental arguments from necessity, to speak of a God who is known ‘unnecessarily’ – and thereby, more clearly, intelligibly, and even intimately. That is to say, this unknowable God has freely chosen to make himself known to his creatures in a personal act of Self-disclosure: a gracious unveiling of his eternal, hidden, holy Person and purposes. This is something God did not have to do. The invisible and unapproachable God is, in principle, beyond our feeble grasp (this is the ancient doctrine of “divine incomprehensibility”). Nevertheless, he has lovingly stooped to speak to us, in terms which are both accurate and accessible to us. As John Calvin put it, “God lisps to his children” – baby talk! He has accommodated himself in order that we ‘mere mortals’ might know him truly, fully, and personally.

The divine revelation to mankind is freely mediated through creation (and science is one such expression of our knowledge of divine revelation, as given through “what has been made,” Romans 1:20), through providence (e.g., Acts 14:17) and through redemption. These are typically categorized in terms of general and special revelation. Special revelation is the act wherein the Supreme Being has revealed himself in redemption specifically.

What do I mean by that?

God has made himself known, not only in the intrinsic order, beauty and majesty of the universe (revealing his immeasurable intelligence, power and creativity) and human conscience (revealing his righteous standards and the inescapable sense of judgment), but also in initiating personal and covenantal relationships with men. God speaks to us – directly.

How?

Through the supernatural ‘irruption’ of the divine Self-revelation in history! We have a word from beyond. Specifically, God spoke to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. He revealed himself to Moses at the burning bush, and to Israel - the descendents of the patriarchs - at Sinai in fire and thundercloud, in written laws and recorded history. Why? He had entered into a covenant relationship with Abraham and his children, promising to bring blessing and restoration to the whole race of mankind. He had determined to do this through Israel, his chosen people. God would work with real people, in real space and real time to bring about his ends.

Why did mankind need blessing and restoration? This is the significance of Genesis 3. Man is not only finite, but fallen. We are not only limited by our fallible reasoning and incomplete perceptions, but also by a corrupt nature. We are sinners.

But God is in the business of recovering sinners. Though the world had gone astray, as John famously put it, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes on him will not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Contrary to the empty, “circle of life” platitudes, in which death is conceived as ‘only natural’, men were not created to die. They were created to be in an everlasting and joyous communion with the Maker. When men fell, they were justly placed beneath the curse, entailing death, frustration, and futility. The Book of Ecclesiastes is a prolonged meditation on this morbid reality. But even in the midst of the curse, God is at work for good, teaching men, that they might turn to him and be saved. So the author of Ecclesiastes writes,

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
In other words, God’s ways haunt us, and are forever beyond our grasp. He has placed man’s salvation – a true knowledge of God – beyond the pale of his finite and fallen resources. Stubborn and prideful man must learn to bow the knee to the Almighty, and confess His glory. No man shall be saved by his own wisdom or efforts. It is the gift of God, so that no man may boast, and all men give thanks to God. Thus the apostle Paul writes,

Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength. Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things-- and the things that are not-- to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God-- that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord."
And so God makes a mockery of human reason. For God will not bless the corrupt efforts of man, in his hubris, to discover the truth of God. Man will not find the one true God by reason and observation (nor even religious speculation) alone. Why? Because his reasoning is rebellious against the Truth, and, for that reason, blind. God must intervene. God must speak into the chaos of this broken world, and enlighten our darkened hearts. And he has done so.

This process of speaking order into the void began at creation, but continued in the ordinary life of a nomad named Abram (whose name was later changed to “Abraham,” meaning “father of many nations”). The promise of blessing and restoration given to father Abraham was confirmed to Isaac, to Jacob, and to the nation of Israel by Moses and all the prophets. But this promise was to be mediated through a man, not a nation en masse. God chose David as his man, to establish a royal dynasty in Israel forever. It would be through David’s line that God’s gracious purposes for Israel and the world would be accomplished. This is known as the Davidic covenant (2Samuel 7). God would place David’s son on the throne, and he would be called the Son of God, the Anointed One – the Messiah (see Psalm 2).

Yet, mysteriously, this son of David is also David’s Lord (Matthew 22:41-45) – the one who will not only bless David and his people, but rule and judge the whole world (Psalm 110; Isaiah 9:6-7). The New Testament affirms that Jesus is the Son of David who fulfills the promises of the covenant with Abraham – the Christ of God. In Jesus, all the promises of the patriarchs are confirmed and granted by faith. Christ now sits enthroned, at the right hand of Majesty, administering those blessings through his people, the church. And today God continues to speak light into the darkness of the human heart through the gospel (which has been entrusted to the church in the form of holy writ). As Paul wrote, “For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.”

Monday, May 19, 2008

The New Atheism Debate: What's at Stake?

If you haven't already seen it, check out the Dawkins-Lennox debate: http://www.dawkinslennoxdebate.com/

I thought Lennox did a good job hitting the major issues with Dawkins' atheism in general, and some of his more outrageous claims in his ('I'm just trying to be rational here...') provocatively titled book, "The God Delusion." Though, I do admit I was hoping he would be a bit more aggressive. Chalk it up to British diplomacy, I suppose.

As I watched the debate, I was struck by Dawkins' fascinatingly stubborn and narrow grasp of reality and history. He is also arrogant, and amusingly, apparently totally oblivious to the fact.

Did you note his frustratingly confused conception of (Christian) faith, on which Lennox rightly calls him to task?

Also note his remarkable statement: "I cannot see how one can logically derive evil from atheism"? Such a comment defies all reason and credibility, and I think, betrays the depth of his historical and philosophical naivete.

Of course, neither atheism nor theism, as abstract concepts, necessarily entail or logically require any particular behavior - good or bad. Dawkins' argument runs both ways! After all, as such, they're ill-defined. Belief in what kind of god(s)? And disbelief in what sort of divinity? Remember, the early Christians were called "atheists" because they rejected the local Greek and Roman deities!

Nevertheless, such 'naked concepts' as "atheism" and "theism" do not exist by themselves. Atheism and theism are always embodied within a particular set of beliefs, values, and practices. Theism, even when divorced from any historic religious tradition (a more and more common form of 'faith' today), by whomever and wherever it is held, is always embedded and contextualized within a complex ideological and cultural web - a worldview. Not all theists (nor theisms) are alike.

Dawkins' point of course is that religious incarnations of theism, entailing the authority of sacred books and/or traditions, with their various ethical instructions and ceremonial observances, are more liable to be used by religious fanatics to justify and even guide them in their violence. Atheism, on the other hand, he argues, is purely negative. As such, it has no such body of traditions, religious authorities, or ceremonies. But here is where his naivete is so apparent: he fails to see that atheism too, historically, has its own 'religious' garb! Atheism always exists, everywhere and at all times, within a network of social, political and even religious traditions, authorities and ceremonies. Behold Stalin's Marxism! Behold Pol Pot! Atheism was hardly incidental to their atrocities. It was, as Lennox rightly points out, fundamental in their 'cultural revolution' as Marxists. A stronger case might be made for social Darwinism, modern eugenics and the cold logic with which the Nazi's carried out "the final solution."

Atheism, in one form or another, may not require violence (though here Dawkin's brutish, Darwinian naturalism stares us in the face, "red in tooth and claw"); but, neither does atheism forbid violence. How can it? It is absolutely amoral, and for that reason, utterly unworthy as the foundation for our comprehension of the world. Even Dawkins confesses that his naturalistic atheism cannot guide us at all in moral decisions - a fairly large swath of the human experience, wouldn't you say?

And here is where I see Dawkins as not only an amusingly confused and arrogant man, but dangerous. Just as he sees Christianity as a delusion, and hardly harmless - containing within it the seeds of irrational evil, following blindly "by faith" a morally horrific book - so I see his brand of atheism (refreshingly committed to belief in the truth as universal and absolute, I admit with Lennox) as not only deluded, but fundamentally depraved. Just as he fears the religious fanatic, absolutely committed to his faith (quite apart from reason and evidence, as Dawkins' frames these), so I fear the likes of Dawkins: a 'religious' zealot, absolutely convinced in his faith (his conception of 'rationality'). What's scary is that, unlike Christianity, his is fundamentally amoral. And amorality isn't amoral; as Augustine pointed out, a lack of good is nothing other than evil itself.

What is this brave, new ideological amorality Dawkins thrusts upon us - in the guise of the objective scientist ("....just following the facts," we are told)? Does he himself understand that it signifies the deconstruction of all moral values - do we see that it represents the unhinging of the world as we know it? What "rough beast" has been unleashed in our civilized and modern age? What sort of delusion is this (2Th.2:11)?

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Staying Awake...

In a recent post I asked, in the American context (padded by comfort, safety and security) "how can we stay awake?" We need to stay alert, even though (or rather, especially because) the Lord tarries (for millennia) and the world goes on as it always has... (2Pe.3:1-15a).

I came across 1Th.5:6 this morning: "So then, let us not be like others, who are asleep, but let us be alert and self-controlled." The context is the coming Day of the Lord (5:1-11), in which "sudden destruction" will come upon the world (5:3), though we will escape God's wrath and "obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ," (5:9). With this hope we are to encourage each other and build one another up (5:11).

The call to sobriety and alertness is familiar in the New Testament (e.g., 1Pe.5:8; 2Ti.4:5; Eph.6:18; Col.4:2; 1Co.16:13; cf. 15:34; Ro.13:11; Eph.5:6-18). And this call is most typically found within an eschatological or apocalyptic context (see, for example, Mt.24:42-43; Mk.13:33-37; Lk.21:36), as we see in 1Th.5:1ff.

This is also the case in Peter's first epistle (e.g., 4:7, note also the close connection between alertness and prayer). In 1:13, Peter writes, "Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed."

Here is the challenge: setting our hope fully on the revelation of Jesus Christ in glory, when we too will be glorified with him (1:3-7).

In what are we putting our hope? Do we believe in his coming, or have we become effectively cynics with the world (2Pe.3:4)? Do we long for his return, or have we become content with a kingdom without God? Do we hasten the day of the Lord, or have we exchanged that hope for another tomorrow?

To stay awake, then, we must, at least, positively, be "looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus." (Something I frankly do not regularly do).

How do we do this? How do we "long for his appearing"? Are our affections set fully on Jesus Christ, his glory, and its full manifestation in the last day? Where are our hearts? This, then, is issue. Staying awake is really a call to find our joy and our hope in the only truly satisfying source there is: the grace and glory of Jesus Christ. It is a call to be "filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy," 1Pe.1:8. Odd how we turn this into a burdensome duty and source of guilt, isn't it?

Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be sober-minded; set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ!

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Sound Doctrine and Prayer

As one studies the NT, a consistent and comperehensive pattern of "sound doctrine" emerges (e.g., 1Ti.1:10b-11; 2Ti.4:3; Titus 2:1), entailing both "sound words" (e.g., 2Ti.1:13-14; 2:2; Titus 1:9; Ro.6:17) and "sound practices" (see 1Ti.4:6-12; cf. 1Co.4:16-17; 10:31-11:1; Phil.3:17), constantly commended to the "household of faith" for our observance. This pattern (tupos) stands on the pages of scripture as the embodiment of the apostolic traditions (e.g., 2Th.2:15; 3:6-9; 1Co.11:2) - the body and rule of our faith - as passed on to the churches (Jude 3; e.g., 1Co.11:23; 15:3ff.), and rooted in the pattern of life and ministry of Jesus Christ himself (e.g., 1Ti.6:3; 1Co.11:1; cf. 4:16; 2Co.4:7-18; 1Pe.2:21; etc.).

What are some of the practices, in particular, that the apostles of Jesus Christ commend to us? One clear and consistent practice is prayer. It is easy for us to leave this practice indefinite, haphazard, and untethered from daily life. But Christ and his apostles were quite specific in their teachings and example.There is established for us a normative pattern of both the content and habit of our prayer life. First, the Lord himself passed on to us a model of how to pray (Lk.11:2-4; Mt.6:9-13). And the apostles also teach us from the example of their prayers in many of the epistles (e.g., Eph.1:15-23; Col.1:9-14; Phil.1:3-9). Secondly, we also see in the NT, both modeled for us and commanded of us, a regular (daily, continual) life of prayer (e.g., Lk.5:16; 6:12; 9:18, 28; 18:1ff.; Ro.1:10; Eph.1:16; 6:18-19; Col.1:9; 4:12; 1Th.5:17; 2Th.1:2, 11; 3:1; 1Ti.2:1; 2Ti.1:3).

We must face the question, then: does this pattern characterize our practice of prayer? If not, can we have any confidence that the results of the apostolic ministry in the early church will be approximated in our own lives? Apart from the very 'means of grace' employed regularly by the early church, do we expect to see the same effects of grace in our churches?

Just as the apostolic doctrine of Christ's deity is vital for the maintenance and integrity of our Christianity, so too is a habitual, biblical life of prayer. Yet we have so often reduced the orthodoxy of our faith to mere profession (intellectual assent), while effectually ignoring the particular practices of orthodoxy (orthopraxis). Prayer (as modeled in the scriptures) is the natural, and indeed inevitable, expression of a living faith.