Existentialism and Postmodernism

Existentialism and postmodernism are not the same thing, but there are some very strong connections between them. Chuck brought up existentialism as we were discussing postmodernism, and off it went. Two things that strike me as important in both are the values placed on 'authenticity' and 'passion'. The church in Kierkegaard's time had lost it's passion because it didn't really have a reason to believe anymore. The postmodern church, or 'emergent church' as it is called, is very interested in authenticity and passion, too. The issue is perhaps a little different now than in Kierkegaard's time, but the emergent church fights against strict, doctrinal belief systems that demand unquestioning allegiance. They view the traditional church as something that people tend to conform to outwardly without any change of heart.

That's all well and good, to a point. There is nothing wrong with trying to be 'authentic' and 'passionate' about your faith. You should be. The problem with existentialism and postmodernism is that their respective adherents think they have found the solution when they haven't. Neither one provides a good foundation on which build faith. You can't evangelize the world be saying, "take a leap into the absurd with me!" And you can't take away doctrinal truth without sliding away from the truth on a slippery slope.

Therefore, I have a proposition for anyone with existentialist or postmodern tendencies. Get yourself a good, strong dose of George MacDonald. He lived at roughly the same time as Kierkegaard, and dealt with some of the same issues, but with a more healthy response. The environment he lived in was a little different, but there were many similarities. MacDonald lived in Presbyterian, Calvinist Scotland. He reacted to the cold, mechanical, impersonal church as well. It was more of a demand for unquestioning, doctrinal purity that affected the church there. It didn't matter so much what was in your heart, as long as you said and did the right things, and didn't rock the boat. In the Lutheran Church in Denmark it was more a result of a full, frontal assault from modernism. (a huge generalization, I admit)

But MacDonald's solution was much different from Kierkegaard's. He wanted a faith that was both personal and authentic, but was still consistent with sound doctrine. I'm afraid I can't really describe it to you, at least not quickly. In my next post I'll give an example from MacDonald to try to explain how he balances all these issues. Better yet, read some MacDonald for yourself!

For now, suffice it to say, MacDonald had a large impact on later Christian writers such as Chesterton and CS Lewis. Lewis said of MacDonald, "I know hardly any other writer who seems to be closer, or more continually close, to the Spirit of Christ Himself!" MacDonald has many different styles of writing. He wrote many novels, some theology, some fantasy. His Unspoken Sermons are supposed to be very good. I've only read one of his novels myself, but it was very good. It had a lot to do with living the Christian life and how to discern God's will. That's what I will try to summarize in my next post.

I just put a new link on the blog site. It's an interview of Dr John Patrick from the Christian Medical and Dental Association website. John is a friend of ours from Canada. Just to warn you, this is about 43 minutes long. But well worth it. There are a few things in there that touch on some things we've talked about.

Faith

What is faith, if it isn't a leap into the absurd? Modern minds have a hard time understanding what faith is, I think, because the idea that faith is opposed to reason has permeated society. Most people think of faith along the lines of 'belief in something against all the evidence.' If you look up 'faith' in an English dictionary you will get something along those lines, too. But that doesn't express at all the biblical meaning of 'faith.' The beginning of Hebrews 11 is good place to look for help with the definition of faith. And Hebrews 11 is a good place to look when studying faith anyway, with its 'Faith Hall of Fame.' But a simple definition for the biblical idea of faith is this: the ability to behave according to what we say we believe, or, a believe held at a deep enough level that we can act on it.

I've heard examples given with things like parachutes and bullet-proof vests. Sure, it's easy to say that you know a bullet-proof vest will protect you, but do you believe it enough to put one on and let me shoot you in the chest? Let's make it even more mundane. When you get up in the morning and go out to the kitchen table, you exercise faith when you sit in the chair. You have faith that you can sit down and won't fall. You believe at such a deep level you don't even think about it, and you behave accordingly. You sit. You don't fall. The next time you are even more sure to drop down with complete confidence that you won't fall. You have faith in that chair.

Now, some people might object that such a mundane example doesn't do justice to the idea of religious faith. Believing in things we can't see, touch, hear, etc, is altogether different, they would say. But I would say that the point of religious faith is to grow enough so that you have the same type of faith in Christ as you do in the chair at the kitchen table. Let's look at an example from the Bible.

Take Peter. When Peter first met Jesus he didn't have much faith. He played along when Jesus instructed him to drop his net on the other side of the boat, but he didn't really believe. When the nets were found to be overloaded he was very astonished. But his faith grew. He learned as he lived with Jesus day-to-day that what Jesus said made sense and could be trusted. He was there when the 5000 were fed, and when the 4000 were fed. So when Jesus started talking about how He was the bread that came down out of heaven, and those who eat of Him, and drink His blood will have everlasting life, he could believe in that. As many of those who had been following Jesus decided to turn away Peter said, "where else would we go, you have words of eternal life." Peters belief in Jesus had strengthened to the point where he could act on it. He didn't get wishy washy and fall away.

But growth in our faith isn't a straight line up. Peter still had faith when he the guards came to the Garden of Gethsemane, even if it was misdirected. But before the cock crowed three times he had denied Jesus. At that point I suspect Peter saw the absurdity of the situation and it led him away from faith, not to a leap of faith. The one he thought was the Messiah was being beaten and close to being killed. How can you have faith in that? Of course, we know part of his problem was that he didn't believe, and therefore couldn't behave accordingly, what Jesus had tried to tell him on more than one occasion about what had to happen to Him.

He still had his doubts Sunday morning at the tomb. But he was able to see the resurrected Christ for himself. From then on, and particularly after Pentecost, Peter's faith was great. It still wasn't a straight line up. Paul still had to correct him at one point. But by the end of his life he was willing to suffer and die for Christ's sake. It wasn't a leap into the absurd, he was behaving according to what he knew to be true.

I've spoken before, following Kierkegaard's famous example, of Abraham's similar path. When God called him to sacrifice Isaac he knew God would keep his promise somehow, even if he didn't understand it, and he proceeded to behave accordingly. There are many other example's in the Bible of course, but they all show the same thing. Look through Hebrews 11 and think about each one of the examples there. And what about Joseph (both the son of Jacob and Mary's husband), Mary, Moses, Shadrack, Meshack, Abednego, Thomas, and on and on. All of these people came to a place where acting in faith was as much a part of them as sitting in the chair is for you in the morning.

Is that trivializing faith? Perhaps it could be taken that way, and I want to be careful that I'm not misunderstood. Most of the biblical examples had their struggles along the way. Doesn't it seem like it should be much harder to go deep into the jungle to preach to cannibals than to sit on the kitchen chair? Sure, it isn't exactly the same thing. Some examples of faith may require more courage than others. But we should all desire to grow to the point that when the Lord calls us we go, and it is as second nature as sitting in a chair, because we know that what the Lord says is reliable and He is to be trusted, not in spite of what we assume we know.

Fortunately, we have a gracious God. Sometimes, abandoning the wrong things we think we know isn't that easy. As C.S. Lewis said in The Screwtape Letters, God is at times even pleased with our stumbles. I suppose that depends on how we learn from them. At times our knowledge may be more sure than others.

But there is one area of life in which our faith truly can improve to the point where we can have faith as easily as we sit in a chair. In his book How Long, O Lord? Reflections on Suffering and Evil, DA Carson talks about helping people 'die well.' Part of his point is that when faced with life and death, too many Christians are unable to face reality without a tremendous amount of fear and anxiety. It shouldn't be that way. We have every reason to know that what happens to us after we die, as Christians, is a very good thing. Some people say they fear the process of dying, not the actual death. But too many Christians have enormous anxiety about death itself. This is just speculation on my part (I just thought about it) but I think part of the blame for this can left with Kierkegaard. Maybe his faith was passionate and authentic enough that he really knew he was going to heaven. I don't know. But I don't think that a 'leap of faith' into the absurd gives many people much real confidence.

Thanks, Chuck. The article you scanned to my email was a little hard to read, but I got most of it. Likewise, sorry your note that I posted ended up the way it did on the blog. I'm not sure why it does that. It wasn't like that when I composed it. But it will have to do.

Anyway, as far as the atheists' new approach, been there done that. But it could be worse. In the past I've talked about Nietzsche and how I disagree with him, but in some ways he was honest in his appraisal of where morality was at without God. In terms of ethics, the Enlightenment was about providing a basis for 'good without God,' through human reason alone. From Hume, to Kant, to Hegel, that is what it was about. Then there was Mill and Bentham. But it didn't work. Nietzsche understood that at the end of the day no appeal to reason could hide the fact that what passed as morality was just sentimentality and arbitrary, personal opinion. So he looked out into the abyss with despair. God was dead, so all that was left was nihilism. But he called out for the 'uberman', the 'higher man' who would establish his own order and decide right and wrong. This would in effect be the next step in the evolution of man.

I guess the best way to explain it is that people just don't know the history of ideas, so they are doomed to repeat them. This kind of debate is refreshing in a way, at least. Having atheists post signs like that is better than outlawing nativity scenes, etc. But I wonder if they have any new approaches to deciding how to decide between different views of 'the good.' What would they say to Mulsims, especially the ones to whom jihad is 'good'? One of the things Nietzsche realized was that the 'good' that the Enlightenment thinkers were trying to justify were things parasitized from Christianity. Kant felt there was a categorical imperative not to lie. But how did he know in the first place that lying was an ethical concern except by inheriting it from Christianity.

Does that answer the question? Anyone else have any thoughts? I put a link on the right hand side of the web page with a link to a First Things article from a while back about the very subject of 'Good without God.' I haven't read it for a while, but it is good, written by a guy from Wheaton.

Cory,

This was excellent reading. I'm not sure I get it all, but I think
you nailed Kierkegaard and his "Christian Existentialism." I thought
your reality check in the first paragraph regarding economics was
good too.

I was reading the paper last night and came across the attached
article about atheists who are promiting the idea of "goodness
without god." The christmas phrase "be good for goodness sake" is
being used in creative ways to speak to atheists about celebrating
holidays without the need for god. I've attached the article, but you
might not be able to read it.

You say in one paragraph "But Hegel was just working out the ideas of
those before him, such as Kant. Human reason was elevated to the
highest good in the universe, and what was good could actually be
determined by human reason." My question to you, regardint this
comment and the article in the paper is, "can a person really know
what's good and what's bad without God?" Also, if he were to truly
know it, can anyone really be "good" without the concept of God?

What are your thoughts on that?

Chuck

What was Kierkegaard thinking?

What was he thinking? What made him tick, and what about his experience made him come to the conclusions he did? I mentioned some things about his biography initially, then followed his ideas forward. It's time to back up a little.

One thing about heresies is that they have a hint of truth in them. Marx thought that everything in life is determined by economic factors. He was wrong. That ignores that fact that God has a purpose in history, and he's the one in control. Economic factors might not be as important to Him, or might be irrelevant to His purposes. God is usually more concerned with what kind of stewards we are with what He has provided for us, how we develop our minds, how that affects our actions, and our love for others, and our place in eternity, etc. But that doesn't change the fact that some things in life are determined by economic factors. Ask any parent getting ready to send their kids to college, missionaries trying to raise support, a Christian charity, or anyone who is out of a job. Economics matter. But economic factores are not the only factors.

So, where's the hint of truth in Kierkegaard? Remember back when I proposed we follow Alasdair MacIntyre and broke history up into three time periods? There's the Judeo-Christian period, followed by the modern and postmodern. Kierkegaard agreed with me that the modern world had gone wrong. The Enlightenment had created an atmosphere that elevated human reason so high that they thought they could do anything, and they were in control of their own destiny. Newton's laws had come to be interpreted to mean the universe could survive on it's own, and as LaPlace famously stated, "I have no need of that [God] hypothesis." The result on the church was a dead, lifeless, mechanical church, as we have discussed.

One of the philosophers responsible for the decay of the church was Hegel, and Kierkegaard probably reacted against him more than anything else. But Hegel was just working out the ideas of those before him, such as Kant. Human reason was elevated to the highest good in the universe, and what was good could actually be determined by human reason. Kierkegaard saw the results of that in the church, and he reacted. He didn't want the mechanical, meaningless church. He wanted passionate and authentic people in the church, people who really lived out what they said they believed.

He was right in his recognition of a problem, and partially right in his diagnosis, but totally wrong in his solution. Where his diagnosis started to go wrong was in not reaassesing the role of human reason. He found that human reason couldn't take you to a vibrant, passionate faith. So he proposed a leap of faith, to get him beyond reason.

That's the problem. Human reason by itself is not enough, that is true. But the Christian response through the centuries had always involved an interplay between reason of faith, not the abandonment of reason to leap into the absurd. Aquinas had started to separate faith and reason many centuries before, to be sure, but the distinction wasn't so stark until the Enlightenment. The Christian response prior to the Enlightenment had been captured in the phrase, "Faith seeking understanding," or "I believe in order to understand." They realized human reason wasn't enough. But faith informed reason and reason informed faith. At some point there may have to be a leap, but as Pascal said, it's a leap in the light, not a leap in the dark.

In Surprised by Joy CS Lewis talked about a fellow student, an atheist, who announced to his friends that after looking into it, it appeared to him that the Christian story of God becoming a man really happened. With his reason he had found the truth, but he never combined that with faith. That student went mad. If I remember the story correctly he died (suicide?) soon after discovering the truth, but never became a Christian. Contrast that with Lewis. He had similar experiences in what he discovered about the historical truth, but this eventually informed his faith. His faith then led him to a better understanding of what his reason was telling him. It wasn't just a one way street, or a one way leap. What resulted was a set of coherent thoughts. In contrast, existentialism leads you to statments like Barth's, "It isn't true as a matter of history, but it is true as a matter of doctrine." In reality that is very incoherent.

The incoherence isn't necessary. It is possible to humble human reason without having to free yourself from it altogether. In fact, you can't. It is after all part of how God made us, "In His image." It also allows us to maintain some mystery in our faith, but helps us locate those mysteries more appropriately. God's ways are inscrutable (Isaiah). His ways are higher than our ways (Psalms). It only makes sense that God's ways are not going to be easy for us to grasp, and at times impossible to fully grasp. But usually we can at least say we know that something (like the resurrection) is true, even if we can't explain exactly how it happened.

The bottom line is that the existential turn is not necessary. You don't have to follow Kierkegaard to have passion or authenticity. But more importantly, he didn't provide a foundation for a strong faith.

Remember the meaning of logos. It is more than just "word". "In the beginning was the Reason, and the Reason was with God, and the Reason was God."

Finally, many Christians have recognized as their walk with God matures that faith isn't something they do. It is something that happens to them. Whatever you think about predestination, you have to admit that left on your own you never would have come to faith. C.S. Lewis' account of his conversion demonstrates this. Over a period of time he had encounters with something outside of himself that penetrated his heart. He recalls sitting on a bus and having the feeling that something, or someone, was stripping away the facades of his personage, layer by layer, and getting down to his heart. This was before he was a Christian. Later, he and his brother took a trip to the zoo. Lewis was riding in the sidecar of his brother's motorcycle. He says he doesn't remember making a conscious decision to trust the Lord, he just knows that on the way to the zoo he was not a Christian, but on the way back he was. His life had been given over to Christ, and he was committed to the truth. He says this was the freest thing he had ever done, and yet he could do no other. He elsewhere says that the idea of truth 'seekers' is really false. As sinners, seeking for God is like the mouse seeking the cat. Without God stirring the heart no one will seek.

What we see in Lewis' life is contrary to what Kierkegaard told us. Lewis didn't make a 'leap of faith' in which he abandoned the rational and embraced the absurd. There was an interplay between what was happening in his mind, intellectually, and his faith. And what happened to Lewis was, in a significant way, done to him. The existential catch-phrase, "reality viewed from the perspective of the actor," does not come close to explaining how we live our lives in reality. True faith is not a matter of us conjuring up our own feelings, and establishing meaning and purpose for ourselves. We have to come to rely on God. We don't do the work ourselves.

The connections between existentialism and postmodernism become clear at this point. One of the marks of postmodernism is a distrust of metanarratives. Postmoderns love narratives. Everyone has their own story. Everyone has their own adventure. But they disbelieve in any over-arching story that controls all of reality. They have no use for the meaning and purpose God designed into the universe, or for God's story of creation-fall-redemption. If everything is always about 'the actor', they'll never be able to submit to God.

Beyond Kierkegaard II

The other general brand of existentialists are the theists. Some of the names here include Karl Barth, Rudolph Bultman, Paul Tillich, and the Niebuhr brothers, Reinhold and Richard. A label stuck for these guys: neo-orthodoxy. They didn't necessarily like the label, but it stuck, and it is useful. This is, of course, related to 'orthodoxy' not 'Eastern Orthodoxy'. It is the basic, creedal, historic Christianity that unites all true believers throughout time, regardless of denomination. And 'neo-' refers to that same basic Christianity, with a twist. I've already spoken about Barth previously, so I'm going to use him as an example. That doesn't mean he represents all neo-orthodoxy. And I'm not trying to judge the faith of any of these men. That is between them and God. Barth appears to me to be a sincere believer. (What an existential, even post modern thing to say, huh.) Some of those other guys I'm less sure about. That being said, I think they leave the Christian faith without a firm foundation.

Barth's history is a lot like Kierkegaard's. He grew up in the liberal church of the time, and in time he rejected it. There was nothing left to believe in. If it was shown that miracles don't happen, dead men don't rise from the dead, and no prophecy in the Bible can be taken seriously, then all that is left is a lot of out-dated traditions and doctrines. Barth wanted to believe in the those doctrines. He couldn't ever really divorce himself from some of the premises of the liberal church, however. As a matter of historical fact Jesus didn't rise from the dead. But as a matter of doctrine, and of faith, he did. And that is all that matters.

If you study Barth, and I'm not saying I have thoroughly, he seems to believe in all the right doctrines. But the Bible is clear (I Cor 15) that the resurrection, etc, as an historical fact, happened. And if it didn't, "we are to be most pitied..." Barth's position, somewhat unwittingly, leaves future generations to decide for themselves whether or not to take that 'leap of faith,' without any clear reason why they should.

As an aside, Barth does have more interesting things in his history. He was German, rejected the Nazis, and fled to Switzerland. He was involved with a group of theologians in opposition to the Nazis that also included Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I have a lot of respect for Bonhoeffer. His book The Cost of Discipleship is definitely worth reading. Bonhoeffer was executed after the failed plot to kill Hitler.

Beyond Kierkegaard

This discussion will get back to Kierkegaard, but existentialism is a little hard to sum up quickly, so I'd like to elaborate a little. There are little catchphrases that help explain certain aspects of it, such as "reality viewed from the perspective of the actor,' 'existence precedes essence,' and the like. But it might help to look at the history of existentialism since Kierkegaard. This little sketch is, of course, incredibly brief. But it should help.

There were two main groups that followed Kierkegaard: theistic existentialists and atheistic existentialists. The existence of the atheistic existentialists, sometimes called the 'Black existentialists' is one small part of why I disagree with Kierkegaard. C.S. Lewis said somewhere that people who champion certain ideas or philosophies should follow those ideas down the road to the 'ruddy end' (paraphrased). Ideas do have consequences (I don't know what Lewis thought about Kierkegaard specifically, but that would be interesting to find out). And these ideas often have more than a grain of truth in them. But the consequences of some ideas are difficult to anticipate. Unfortunately, an idea may seem appropriate at the time, under certain conditions, but then other people start to live them out. The 'ruddy end' of the existential road is the atheistic existentialist. It actually doesn't stop there, because there are trails that lead from existentialism to postmodernism, etc.

Two of the most well known existentialists in this camp are the French philosophers Camus and Sartre. They wrote novels such as The Stranger and Nausea, respectively. The gist of these books is that humans are alienated from the universe we live in because it is a meaningless place. So people have to create their own meaning, and it really doesn't matter what meaning you decide to create. Physical pleasures can be indulged in wantonly. If that doesn't do it for you try whatever you want. But at the end of the day all that is left is a sickness, or nausea, that is the meaningless human condition. The only question that is left is, when to commit suicide.

Sartre is an interesting case because he was very active in the French resistance during WWII. There is a story that someone once asked him why he was so vehemently against the Nazis. If his philosophy was true and things were meaningless it shouldn't matter whether the Nazis were in charge or not. Why not be one of the Vichy French who cooperated with the Nazis. His response was that sometimes you just need to take a 'leap of faith.'

The link between this brand of existentialism and Kierkegaard is clear. Please pardon the quick reference from the Wikipedia page on existentialism, but this is what it says (compare this to Jeremiah 29, for example, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord..."):

"The early 19th century philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, posthumously regarded as the father of existentialism,^[5][6] maintained that the individual solely has the responsibilities of giving one's own life meaning and living that life passionately and sincerely,^[7][8] in spite of many existential obstacles and distractions including despair, angst, absurdity, alienation, and boredom.^[9]

The following comment was left on my previous post. I'm posting it this way since those who read the posts are getting them by email mostly and haven't seen the comments.

"You've got it wrong, Kierkegaard didn't mean the leap of faith as you described it. It's not that faith is to believe things that are not true. Kierkegard does NOT say you should have faith that 1+1=3.

A leap of faith is a sign of authenticity; in other words, our actions are an honest manifestation of our beliefs, rational thinking, personality, etc. Faith is the highest passion, passion to believe in ourselves, not in irrational things.

We've got to kill the mis-interpretation of Kierkegaard once and for all."

November 16, 2009 6:13 PM

The comment was left anonymously, but I welcome it. The more discussion the better. There is something in this comment that I definitely agree with. Our actions are manifestations of our beliefs, etc. In fact, that fits precisely with what I think is a good definition of faith: the ability to behave according to what we say we believe. Or, to believe something at a level that we can act on it.

But that is also why I disagree with Kierkegaard. In Fear and Trembling he is quite emphatic, many times over, that faith is a belief in the absurd. Abraham is, of course, his object of study there. He assiduously proclaims that what Abraham did, and the faith he had, was absurd. He might as well have said Abraham believed that 1 + 1 = 3. But he disregards what else we know about Abraham. Paul said in Romans 4:20 - 21 (ESV), "No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised." Abraham had come a long way in his relationship with God. He followed God's direction to Canaan, had personally received the covenants (Gen 12, 15, 17). He entertained and challenged angels and the Lord Himself (Sodom and Gomorrah). Yet we see him fail on occasion. He disowned his wife twice out of fear, once in Egypt and once with Abimelech king of Gerar (he was a slow learner at times). Hagar bore Ishmael because of Abrahams lack of faith. But by the time God called him to sacrifice Isaac Abraham had learned a lot. The knowledge that God would keep his promises and could bring Isaac back from the dead was no longer an absurd idea. It may seem absurd to you and me, and Kierkegaard, but we haven't had the same relationship with God that Abraham did.

That's my main point. What Abraham did wasn't absurd from the perspective of someone who could see things more and more from God's perspective, and less and less from our everyday experience. It is more accurate to say that it was more absurd for Abraham to follow God's first direction and leave the land of his fathers than it was to follow God's direction in regard to Isaac, from Abraham's perspective at that point in his life.

This can be demonstrated also in the life of Karl Barth, who is a descendant of Kierkegaard's in terms of his ideas. Friends of mine have commented that they think Barth was the greatest Protestant theologian in the 20th century. I have to disagree. There is of course much to admire in Barth, and I'm not claiming to be an expert on him. But he made the comment, both in regard to The Fall and the Incarnation/Resurrection, that it is not true as a matter of history, but it is true as a matter of faith/doctrine. Now, that is as clear as you can get. Actually believing in an historical resurrection is as absurd as 1 + 1 = 3, to Barth. But he's going to believe anyway. Not that it really happened, but in his faith.

In my view it is important to believe that the resurrection happened as a matter of fact. See 1 Cor 15. But that's not the point here. The point is that to Kierkegaard, to make that 'leap of faith' is indeed to believe in something absurd. That is not what our faith is supposed to be.

It seems that Kierkegaard wasn't the first to talk about a 'leap of faith'. Pascal, at least, had used the phrase before him. But Pascal was clear that it is a 'leap in the light, not a leap in the dark.' In that sense I have no problem with leaps. But I've seen nothing that changes my view that Kierkegaard saw the leap of faith as an irrational belief in the absurd.

Finally, the commentator said that faith is the passion to believe in ourselves. Kierkegaard very well may have thought that. It is a very existentialist thing to say. But that is my problem with existentialism. Faith isn't a belief that we just conjure up, and it isn't a belief in ourselves. Properly understood, in my view, it is the object of our faith that is important, and our ability to behave according to what we say we believe.

Kierkegaard

It's been over a month since I posted anything. Just to refresh memories, we were talking about the 'fathers' of existentialism. Dostoevsky is called the 'father' by some, and we finished talking about him. I personally like Dostoevsky, but I don't think he was an existentialist. He did deal with some existential themes, but his conclusions were not those of the existentialists.

Now Kierkegaard. What to do with Kierkegaard? Did he start something new, or was he just a victim of the times? Maybe he's just a poor, misunderstood man. Well, I don't want to say that everything he thought was wrong, but he can be credited with creating a lot of misunderstanding about religion and faith. At least that's my view.

For now I'm just going to briefly introduce a little of Kiekegaard's biography, then come back later for discussion. Soren Kierkegaard was born into a wealthy Danish family with a strong Lutheran background. As Soren grew up he developed a disdain for the church because it was so mechanical and rigid. It wasn't that it was legalistic, although that may have been part of it, so much as it was just very formulaic. People just went to church because that is what was expected. They followed the liturgy and the church calendar and did what was expected of them. But they were just going through the motions. The church was lifeless and dead.

Kierkegaard was correct in recognizing that this was a problem, and perhaps even correct in understanding why. The modern world, with its focus on science and reason, was marginalizing religion and faith. In short, the church was becoming liberal. The Lutheran Church was ingrained in the culture, so it wasn't going anywhere, at least not going away quickly. But it was becoming meaningless, and it wasn't having an effect on anyone's life.

The problem was that the modern world was adopting new ideas that weren't compatible with the Bible. The Christian story was just a myth. Dead men don't ever rise from the dead in the real world, and no one can predict the future. So the Bible was just a man made story. A man made story can't have a supernatural effect on someone's heart.

If Kierkegaard was right about the diagnosis, he was very wrong about the solution. His solution was to take an existential 'leap of faith.' That term wasn't new with Kierkegaard, but he gave it new meaning, and he further refined that distinction between the world of reason and the world of faith that started back with Aquinas. So Kierkegaard agreed with modernism, on the one hand, that dead men don't rise from the dead and no one can predict the future. But on the other hand, faith can bring the Christian story to life, and we can live as though it were true. That is the 'leap of faith.'

Phillip Johnson, in his book Defeating Darwinism by Opening Minds, gives an example of what it is like to live as though things of faith are true in one area of life, but things of reason in another area. (I've adapted this a little.) It is as though a young girl was distressed when her friends told her that Santa Claus isn't real. So she did an experiment. She stayed up late and snuck out to see her parents filling the stockings, and realized her friends were right. Year after year the same thing happened. But for the rest of her life she continued to insist that Santa Claus is real. On the one hand her reason told her there was no Santa Claus, but she took that 'leap of faith' and continued to believe with all of her might. So for her it was true.

That's what making deals with modernism does to your faith. The reality is that our reason and our faith, when used properly, complement one another. We can't maintain such blatant contradictions and keep a vibrant spiritual life at the same time. It is incoherent. All healthy little girls eventually give up on Santa Claus. And if you believe the modern world has discounted the basis for the Christian faith, just a 'leap of faith' is a very poor foundation from which to spread the gospel. Kierkegaard may have invigorated the church to a point, and for a while, but in the end the 'leap of faith,' at least as he understood it, was a losing proposition.

Dostoevsky and Existentialism

Just so you know, I edited the previous post a little. One paragraph in particular needed a little work.

I mentioned previously that two different people have been called 'the father of existentialism.' One of them is Soren Kierkegaard, and he's probably the one I would give the credit to. But old Soren will take longer to discuss, so I want to say something about Dostoevsky first.

Fyodor Dostoevsky was the son of a Russian military officer. In young adulthood he ran with the young liberals in Europe that would end up changing the world. His ideas were not that much different from those that led to Marxism, etc. But somewhere along the way he became serious about his Christian faith. If I remember right it was about the same time he was in prison. He spent time in prison both for his associations with one of the underground, liberal, political groups, but also ended up in debtors' prison (he had a gambling problem). I don't want to say too much about his faith because I don't want to misrepresent it, but he was a Christian, and very much Russian Orthodox.

Much of his writing is specifically aimed at those young liberal intellectuals that he hung around with for a while. In The Brothers Karamozov he addresses the issues of what life is like without God. (Please forgive that very brief summary.) In Crime and Punishment he ridicules the liberal intellectuals quite severely, and I think successfully. In that book Raskolnikov, the main character, is a young intellectual who brutally murdered an old woman who owned a pawn shop because he needed her money. It was the working out of his own philosophy. There was no god, and no right or wrong, so why not kill a worthless, crotchety, old woman. But it didn't work out so well for Raskolnikov. He thought he had beaten the system, but the real significance of what he did was constantly invading into reality, and it drove him mad.

I think the reason some people consider Dostoevsky the 'father of existentialism' was because he dealt with some issues of interest to those who would later be called existentialists. He was one of the first novelists/thinkers to address the issues. He did deal with the point of view of individuals, and he certainly dealt with the alienation of individuals from society, which is a big existential topic. But I find it hard to call him an existentialist, or even the father of existentialism, because his conclusions are so different from existentialism. As can be seen with Rakolnikov, he couldn't really determine his own essence. Reality was always crashing in on him and spoiling his illusion.

Another way he may seem a little existential can be seen in The Brothers Karamozov. Without getting into too much detail, that is where the famous line is, "If there is no God, all things are permissible." Dostoevsky's conclusion is that of course there is a God, because all things are not permissible. But in typical Orthodox fashion, he seems to leave the issue as a mystery. Yes, it is mysterious that there is a God and yet he allows innocent people to suffer intensely sometimes. But yet I know there is a God. It is just an existential 'leap of faith' to accept God. (That's not Dostoevsky's phrase, but an existentialist could say it fits here).

Personally, I think that is the wrong way to take Dostoevsky. To him it isn't a 'leap of faith'. I think he did the logic. "I know that all things are not permissible. So there must be a God. If I torture or murder someone, that is very wrong. Why God allows it is a mystery. But mystery is ok."

That is actually one thing I like about the Eastern Orthodox churches. They can accept mystery. Yes, at times they take it a little far. But part of the problem with the western Protestant churches is the division that results over trying to 'pin down' theological issues that are really beyond our grasp. I happen to believe that exploring all those theological mysteries can be very profitable. But you have to humble about it.

So, that's what I have to say about Dostoevsky. Anyone else have anything to add?

Existentialism

First things first, so let's talk about what existentialism is. It is one of those things difficult to define in one sentence. Some catch phrases used to explain it are things like 'reality viewed from the perspective of the actor' and 'existence precedes essence.' Basically, the individual person decides what is right and wrong, and decides for himself what meaning and purpose is attached to reality.

In the ancient and medieval worlds man was compared to things higher than himself, ie, God/gods and angels, etc. There was a reality that transcended the physical universe. Mankind had a place of authority on earth, but understood there were laws, authorities, and reality that were greater that man was subject to.

Francis Schaeffer wrote a short little book on the history of the decline of western thought called Escape From Reason. It might be something worth exploring for us, as it is so short. He points out that starting with Thomas Aquinas, a schism was introduced into reality. Now, Aquinas was a smart guy, and I admire him a lot. So I had a hard time accepting what Schaeffer said at first. It is still true that there is a lot to admire about Aquinas, but in the end I saw that Schaeffer was right. Whereas prior to Aquinas there was one reality that involved both our everyday experience in the physical world and with 'higher' or 'heavenly' things, after Aquinas there was a separation. Although I think scripture itself does make a distinction between the two in some way, I think a lot of that has to do with the Fall. Although there are some distinctions, they are both aspects of one reality. Paul talks in Ephesians 6, for example, about spiritual realities that definitely are to be considered part of our everyday reality. But Aquinas separated reality into a 'higher story' and a 'lower story.' The rules were different if you were discussing 'things of faith' or 'things of reason.' This distinction was highlighted when it came to Kant, who called the two stories noumena and phenomena.

In addition, in the late medieval world, art (as an expression of the thought of the time) started to have less to do with strictly religious or heavenly things, and more about man in a more realistic setting. And then in the Renaissance man become less of an object of art altogether. The 'real' word became the focus, and things like landscapes began to show up in art.

These changes in focus were not necessarily bad in and of themselves. It reminds me a little of what happened in the 50's. There wasn't really anything wrong with rock 'n roll music, per se. But there was an attitude of rebellion that did come with it that was wrong. There is nothing wrong with the painting of landscapes. And some artists actually did try to present landscapes as a celebration of God's creation. But there was also a misguided sense of freedom from the reality of that 'upper story.'

Man's view of his relationship to the world went from an upward view, to a downward view. He stopped comparing himself to things above, and started comparing himself to things below. In particular man started comparing himself to the animals. This is particularly evident in Darwinism.

More or less at the same time this transition from the upward comparisons to downward comparisons was happening, the scientific revolution came along. We've talked about the birth of modern science before, but it is relevant here as well. Descartes' statement, 'I think, therefore I am,' is considered by some to be the start of modern science. Descartes' thought there shows the tendency to rely on yourself and your own observations of the world. Not that it was totally new or totally bad, but that thought allowed science to flourish. Not that science is bad, if it is kept humble, but there is an aspect of science that involves human self-reliance.

So as man's focus went from upward to downward, it also started going inward. The 'higher things,' the things of God and angels were no longer as important, and were started to be seen by many as irrelevant altogether. All that is left is man. Man doesn't have an essence determined for him any more, and there is no purpose or meaning presupposed in creation. But once man comes on the scene and develops this self-awareness, he is able to determine meaning and purpose for himself. Thus, 'existence precedes essence.'

This is a very brief overview. There is much more that could be said. So please do. Some similarities to other things we've talked about, like Nietzsche, can certainly be seen. But hopefully this helps with an understanding of what existentialism is. Then I think talking about Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky will make more sense.

Existentialism

Chuck brought up the issue of existentialism, and thought that would be a good direction to take the discussion. Soon I plan on talking a little about Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky. Both of them have been called the 'father of existentialism'. Interestingly, both of them were Christians. For now, I'm just bringing them up, and if anyone wants to start by defining what existentialism is, go ahead.

Is anyone interested in meeting next Wednesday, the 16th? There is a lot going on at the church that night, but we could meet at someone's house. Rustin has said his place is open in the past, or my house. Just let me know.

I am using a book for some of Caleb's homeschooling called Handbook of Christian Apologetics by Peter Kreeft and Ronald Tacelli. It is a supplement to his logic course. I just read a section that spoke to some things we've been talking about recently and I thought I'd share it with you. Here he they are talking about getting back to a more traditional, Aristotelian, view of logic.

Restoring the Older Notion of Reason
To make this restoration possible, another restoration is necessary: a restoration of the older, larger notion of reason itself. This means essentially two things:
1. seeing our subjective, psychological, human processes of reasoning as participation in and reflections of an objective rational order, a logos, a "Reason" with a capital R; and

2. seeing reason not as confined to reasoning, calculating--what scholastic logic calls "the third act of the mind"--but as including "the first act of the mind": apprehension, intellectual intuition, understanding, "seeing," insight, contemplation.

Using Aristotelian Logic
These two positions we take concerning the nature of reason lie behind our use of Aristotelian logic. This is a logic of (linguistic) terms, which express (mental) concepts, which represent (real) essences, or the natures of things. (The Greek word logos has all three of these meanings.) Many modern philosophers are suspicious and skeptical of the venerable and commonsense notion of things having real essences or natures and of our ability to know them. Aristotelian logic assumes the existence of essences and our ability to know them, for its basic units are terms, which express concepts, which express essences. But modern symbolic logic does not assume what philosophers call metaphysical realism (that essences are real), but implicitly assumes instead metaphysical nominalism (that essences are only nomina, names, human labels), since its basic units are not terms but propositions. Then it relates these propositions in argumentative structures just as a computer can do: if p, then q; p; therefore q.

The human mind is indeed a computer--we do compute, after all--but it is much more than that. We can also "see," or understand. Behind our use of Aristotelian logic is our hope that all our arguing will begin and end with seeing, with insight. Thus, we usually begin by defining terms and end by trying to bring the reader to the point of seeing objective reality as it is.

Cory,

This is really fascinating. That the spoken word, linquistics, are
the basis and substance of all reality seems absurd to us. It is
absurd of course when we think our words for our reality and define
it for us. I loved your final paragraph about "God's Word" being the
substance that forms our reality.

Reality is only subjective to the "subject" that performed the action
of the verb "created." It's objective to every other entity that can
perceive it.

Thank you for these thoughts. Wittgenstein might be worth some future
study sometime.

Chuck

Yes, I think this is great advice for dealing with Post-Modern
people. If they can come to accept the presence of evil, they must
recognize a standard by which it can be measured. That brings them
back to the possibility of an "objective" truth appropriate for all
humanity. That's what God gave us in the 10 commandments (or the
whole corpus of scripture!)

Thanks again Cory for your thinking in these areas.

Chuck

Wittgenstein

The other day at church Chuck brought up Wittgenstein, the German philosopher. That is another subject I passed over in regard to postmodernism, but I just wanted to make a comment about Wittgenstein.

I'm obviously not an expert, but I've always wanted to study up on him a little bit. It is hard to pin him down, because there is a lot of disagreement about him. His early views are different from his later views. And some people think his later views were kind of an argumentum ad absurdum and didn't reflect what he really thought. I think that might be the case. Or maybe he was just brain storming. During WWI he was actually somewhat of an evangelist. But I get the feeling he later lost his faith.

But the postmoderns picked up on his later thoughts having to do with language. What they take from him is that all of creation is just a linguistic construction. Both personally and in community we create our own reality. This gets to a really deep level for some people. Some people with more extreme views would say that the computer I'm using, the house I'm in, and the food I'm eating also only has existence as we create that existence with our words. Is there really an objective reality of an apple apart from the language I've used to talk about it. Those are extremes, and it gets kind of weird, but when it comes to morality it is easy to see how some people would say that those ideas are just linguistic creations.

I've thought about this a lot, and as with any good deception, I think there at least a hint of truth in that idea. I think all of creation is linguistically created. But we aren't the creators. "In the beginning was the WORD, and the WORD as with God, and the WORD was God."

How to deal with postmodern people

The best way to wrap up postmodernism is to talk about how to approach a postmodern person. Talking to a postmodern person can be very frustrating. Sometimes they will be hostile to talking about Christianity, but often you can have an interesting conversation. Interesting, that is, until you realize you are going nowhere. Postmodern people love to dialogue. But the goal of dialogue is not to come to a conclusion, or to really evaluate what was said. The goal is just the dialogue. If right and wrong are just whatever my community and I want it to be, then there is nothing wrong with sharing each others' views. But if, for instance, you are talking about the resurrection and all the evidence for it and how that has an effect on what you believe, they won't follow you. They'll be interested in you experience, maybe, but they won't follow the reasoning, because they don't care.

So what do you do? Probably the best place to start is understanding sin. To a postmodern there is no such thing, and getting them to see that they are a sinner and need a savior can be quite difficult. But every once in a while a teachable moment shows up. Don Carson tells a story of how a friend of his witnessed to a very liberal lady in Washington D.C. (I'm paraphrasing here) She didn't believe in sin, or evil. Right and wrong was truly up for interpretation to her. Ideas of right and wrong are just local or personal constructions. So this Christian asked her if she thought evil existed and she of course said, no. So he tried to paint a picture of some brutal crime to see how she would react. She was of course aghast, but she really thought that this crime wasn't really wrong, it just happened to offend her own personal sensibilities, or maybe her instincts. But deep down it wasn't really wrong, or evil. But he kept at it. Every time he saw on the news that a little girl had been raped he got in her face and said, "Well, is it evil?" But she wouldn't crack. Until one day when she heard about a particularly heinous crime. I don't remember the details. But something got to her. And deep down inside she new that what had happened was wrong. It was evil. And the measure by which she judged this act wasn't just her own personal sensibility. Deep down in the heart of reality, what happened was wrong. But where did this come from? The only place these rules could come from would be from an eternal, infinite lawgiver. Today this lady is a mature Christian.

I tried this tactic once. A college student was working as a receptionist at the ER desk in Council Bluffs, and he was showing off some of what he'd learned in philosophy class. So I asked him if he thought there was such a thing as evil. Then I challenged him. Anyone can think up examples of terrible crimes. And to find real situations all you have to do is watch the news. And working in the ER provides plenty of opportunity to see sin and evil face-to-face, too. It got to him, and he got the point. I don't know exactly where he's at with his relationship with the Lord, but he's not an atheist any more. His girlfriend at the time was Catholic and they have since married and go to church. But that was at least a start.

Chuck suggested some discussion on existentialism, and I think that's a good idea. But first I want to wrap up some things in regard to post-modernism. Following are the beginning and ending of a paper by Arthur Leff in the Duke Law Journal from 1979. Leff was a law professor at Yale, and from what I understand, he never gave another lecture on the philosophy of justice. Could it have been that he was confused, in a Nietzschean sort of way.

Unspeakable Ethics, Unnatural Law

I want to believe--and so do you--in a complete, transcendent, and immanent set of propositions about right and wrong, findable rules that authoritatively and unambiguously direct us how to live righteously. I also want to believe--and so do you--in no such thing, but rather that we are wholly free, not only to choose for ourselves what we ought to do, but to decide for ourselves, individually and as a species, what we ought to be. What we want, Heaven help us, is simultaneously to be perfectly ruled and perfectly free, that is, at the same time to discover the right and the good and to create it.

skip to end of article

All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable to us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot--and General Custer too--have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.

Wow. That just goes to show you, or me anyway, that if you reason well enough you can hardly miss the truth. Unless your heart is hardened. Which unfortunately is the condition of most people.

Remember the syllogisms?

If God does not exist, then morality cannot be justified.

God does not exist.

Morality cannot be justified.

But morality exists.

Heaven help us. (Leff's words)

One of the first things you learn when you study logic is that if your conclusion (that morality cannot be justified) is truly unacceptable, but it follows from your premises, you have to go back and examine your premises. But Leff, and the rest of the modern/postmodern world, is committed to those first two premises. That leads to quite a conundrum. That was Nietzsche's conundrum, too. But in his more brazen moments Nietzsche thought we, or at least one of us, would evolve past it. It should be fairly obvious we can't, and won't. (Unless you count becoming like Christ a type of 'evolution.' Thanks be to God, huh? But I digress.)

In the body of that article from Leff above, he discusses some options that could plausibly explain how legitimate ethical systems develop, assuming there is no God all the while. One option is that each individual decides what is right and wrong for himself. But, what governs the interactions between two 'Godlets' [Leff's word] when they disagree and conflict with one another? There still would have to have some lawgiver (ie God) who could govern those interactions, or there would be no ethical system. This is obviously a problem. Whoever the lawgiver is it would have to be eternal and infinite (ie God). This is one of the problems with Nietzsche. How could Man evolve into something transcendent, something that is eternal and infinite? Leff recognizes all this.

Another of Leff's options, the postmodern option, is that whatever is right is what is right for me AND my group or community. Leff doesn't name it postmodern, but that is one of the characteristics of postmodernism, that what is right is determined by me and my community. This allows for some coherence between members of the community. But the problem is that you have just the problems mentioned in the last paragraph back a little farther. But who is going to decide what laws govern the interactions between the different groups? Who is going to decide who wins in conflict, for instance, between homosexuals, Christians, and Muslims? Again, we need an eternal, infinite law giver, or else all we have is power, political, military, or otherwise.

Thus the current dilemma created by postmodernism. The one solution remaining for a postmodern is constant, interminable 'dialogue'. It is for exactly this reason that the UN opts for constant dialogue, diplomacy, compromise, and negotiation. That is why they balk at enforcing any resolutions they come up with. The use of force is bad, though they can never say why, and all they have is dialogue. Over time this dialogue will get us all to see eye-to-eye. Or so they say. There is a lot of Marxist/Hegelian dialectic in there, too, but it is definitely postmodern.

Thus, modernism itself led to a lot of bloodshed in the bloodiest century ever. It looks as though postmodernism will likely lead to more of the same. Man's attempts to create Utopia always end up creating a place you don't want to live.

So what is left when postmodernism runs its course? There is an article written several years ago by David Hart in First Things called "Christ and Nothing." Those are the two options left. Either go back to Christ or embrace total nihilism. If anyone wants to read that article I can find a link for you.

Absolutely. Maybe existentialism should be the next topic we talk about. I didn't mention it directly just because I was trying to be succinct, but you are right.

Cory

Sorry, Chuck, I tried to edit the format of the email you sent but it didn't work.

Cory,

This is great. I enjoyed reading it and will talk with Kevin today
sometime to see when we can set up our iThink group on the new
software at CBC.

I'm wondering if "Existentialism" doesn't fit into your discussion
somewhere. I'm not sure where that would be, but it seems that when
man found he could not legislate morality without God, there was a
movement that said nothing is of higher value than anything else we
just all exist = existentialism. If you see an old woman on the
street corner, stopping to help her cross the street or running her
over has the same moral value. Didn't this lead to nihilism and I
think Neitzschke had something to do with this.

It just seems that a pessimism about standards of living and purpose,
meaning and significance were lost to many souls and that opened the
door to the "God is dead" movement.

Does existentialism fit in the movement from modernism to
post-modernism?

Chuck

Postmodernism

Ok, this discussion of the transition from modernism to postmodernism has taken a while. In the last few hundred years changes in ideas have been fast and furious, so there is a lot to talk about. Another reason is that the transition here is a little difficult to follow. One way to look at it is that postmodernism isn't really a distinct way of thought, it is just the natural outcome of modernism. I think there is a lot of truth in that.

More about that in a bit, but first, let's talk a little about what 'postmodernism' is. Do these characteristics sound familiar?

1. No single world view captures reality. There is no master story or meta-narrative that underlies humanity.

2. Reason is to be distrusted because there is no way of knowing which individual's reason is reliable.

3. There is no such thing as objectivity.

4. There is no 'truth' to appeal to for understanding history and culture.

5. There are no moral absolutes.

6. The West, with it's colonial heritage, deserves ridicule.

7. Texts, whether religious or philosophical or literary or legal, do not have intrinsic meaning.

8. Ideas are cultural creations.

9. Everything is relative.

10. We need to be deeply suspicious of all ideas, given the way ideas are used as tools to oppress and confuse people.

Looks a lot like the culture we live in now, doesn't it? Well, this isn't the first time this has happened. This is the same basic description of the presocratic world. Remember, it is hard to talk about 'what the Greeks thought' because there were Greeks who thought just about everything. Before Socrates there was Protagoras, who was the first to say, "Man is the measure of all things." It was also a very relativistic culture. The sophists (from whom we get the words sophistry and sophisticated) were intellectual guns for hire, who really believed in nothing, but would take any side in a debate. The more skilled at it they were the more money they made. But it was all just a game, a way to coerce as many people as possible. It is no wonder reason was distrusted and truth was viewed as relative.

Then came Socrates. Socrates said, "God is the measure of all things," and stood up for truth. His 'God' was an unknown god to him (see Acts 17), but he made a remarkable stand for a pagan.

Socrates' ideas and those of other Greeks contributed significantly to Judeo-Christian thought. Then the modern thought came along seeking to have "Good without God." Human reason alone was supposed to supply us with all we needed to govern ourselves. The problem there, as we've discussed already, was the 'good' we were trying to demonstrate through reason was largely imported in from the Judeo-Christian ethic. Nietzsche and others showed there was no foundation for right and wrong if the Judeo-Christian God was dead. We tried to be our own gods.

The fruits of that endeavor were clear enough. WWI and WWII, and numerous other atrocities. In short, the bloodiest century in history. Next time someone tries to tell you that all wars are the result of religion, and religion is therefore bad, remind them of the legacy of humanism.

It was obvious that the goal of "Good without God" was untenable. This brings us back to the syllogisms we talked about:

If God does not exist, then morality cannot be justified

But morality can be justified

Therefore, God must exist

(modus tollens)

or

If God does not exist, then morality cannot be justified

God does not exist

Therefore, morality cannot be justified

(modus ponens)

Remember that it was the end of modernism when thinkers started to realize the truth of the first premise. What if they had then gone back to examine if there really could be "Good without God"? Finding the answer to be, no, why didn't they go back and embrace Christianity? Why didn't they realize they were wrong to dismiss Him and run back to Him? If only they had. A few did of course, but the overwhelming response was just to look into the abyss and try to be our own gods.

But what happened is just what we should expect, isn't it? Mankind couldn't resist the temptation to be his own god.

This brings to mind some Chesterton said somewhere (paraphrased): "The doctrine of original sin is the only doctrine of the church that can be empirically proved." The truth of original sin is staring everyone in the face, but no one wants to see it.

While on the subject, here's another quote from Chesterton:

“Once abolish the God, and the government becomes the God.” - Christendom in Dublin, 1933

Over on the right hand column of the blog I added another link to an article by Doug Groothius. This article is on the Christian Research Institute's website, equip.org. Groothius is (or at least was) a prof at Denver Seminary, and I heard him speak at our Sunday School class once when I was in med school. This article on relativism is short, but speaks to some of the things we've been talking about.

The Christian Research Institute is the home of Hand Hanegraaff, The Bible Answer Man. Another good website to check out is Stand to Reason, www.str.org.

Here's some more about the 'existence' issue Chuck brought up. This link should get you to a forum that discusses some of the points
http://memoriapress.com/forum/showthread.php?t=27&highlight=existence

But this paragraph make the main point:

"The reason for this would involve a more complicated discussion of set theory’s acceptance of the possibility of an empty set, but the fundamental reason goes back to the fact that, in traditional logic, predicates refer to concepts (where the nature or essence of a thing is known), whereas in modern logic predicates are sets that are defined by their members. All of which is just another way of saying that traditional logic assumes that words have meaning apart from the actual existence of their objects and modern logic does not."

This ties into several other issues. The modern idea that "words don't really have meaning" is where the idea comes from that the constitution, or the Bible for that matter, doesn't have any meaning apart from the meaning the reader wants to put into it. So things can mean whatever you want them to mean. But more to the point is that the traditional approach assumes that essence precedes existence, whereas the modern approach assumes that existence precedes essence.



This all incredibly brief, but it seems to me the "existence" contention assumes a modern instead of a Judeo-Christian perspective. We know the Bible assumes that our essence precedes our essence. God had us in His mind, and what we were supposed to be, before we were born. God had right and wrong, and meaning and purpose, all figured out before people came along to decide those things.



That seems a long way from the Ontological Argument, but it's all part of the discussion of whether 'existence' is really an attribute.



There have been other rebuttals of the Ontological Argument. One is that the argument is really a tautology. That is to say it is just a redundant statement with the conclusion just restating the premise. But that doesn't refute anything, because tautologies are valid. If the premises are true a tautology is sound. And some people argue that all deductive arguments are tautologies because the conclusion is really contained in the premises. But that is a little convoluted, because it is like complaining that a conclusion really does follow from the premises. The thing about tautologies is that sometimes they are useful to unpack or restate something in a way that shed's more light on the subject, and I think the Ontological Argument clearly does.

Thanks Chuck,

Good question. My short response is that if 'existence' is not an attribute, or quality, or property, then there is no qualitative
difference between a child's imaginary friends and real friends.

Cory

Cory,
 
One struggle I've heard with the ontological argument is that idea of "existence" itself. Is that really an attribute? I'm not sure I understand all this, but it sure was fun to read your blog. I enjoyed it a lot. If I get a chance I'm gonna look into the ontological argument when I get a chance and see what else I can find.
 
Chuck
 

One reason to encourage the teaching of proper reasoning is that properly interpreting the Consititution demands it. Legal reasoning is a little unique, but you have to know how to reason properly to apply the law correctly, and also to defend a strict constructionist view of the constitution. That's why some Catholics are great people to have as judges. If you have ever heard Judge Scalia debate a liberal, it is really impressive. (For the record, the right wing of the Supreme Court is all Catholic, and I include Kennedy here. Alito, Roberts, Thomas, Kennedy, and Scalia are all Catholic.)

Chuck, more to your question about logic/reason leading us to a Judeo-Christian ethic, it is interesting that the Chinese have realized they have a problem, in that the Marxist/materialist foundation of their thinking really leaves no room for ethical behavior. In their system it is definitely true that the only reason to follow the rules is because of what happens to you if you get caught. They also realized that as they move to somewhat of a more free market system this will cause a problem, as there will be little incentive to be ethical. It is a misunderstanding of capitalism that it is based on pure selfishness. If the system doesn't have an ethical system much like the Judeo-Christian system, it won't work. Interestingly, at least in some places the way the Chinese have attempted to remedy this problem is to teach the Bible. At least the Bible stories we learned as a kid. They could have chosen just Aesop's fables or some other stories, but they chose Bible stories. It wasn't a wholesale adoption of Christian faith, but they could see that ethical conduct within a capitalist system naturally followed from the Judeo-Christian ethic. Insightful on their part.

As far as reasoning toward faith goes, I disagree with the commonly held belief that idea that you can't prove the existence of God. Now, true faith is more than just rational proof. But the rational proof is there. The modus tollens syllogism I wrote about recently is one example, but here is another one. I fully expect this to cause some dissent, so feel free to argue with me. Rustin and I talked about the ontological argument when we got together a few weeks ago. I'm going to present the syllogism a little differently this time.

It is possible that a being than which no greater being can be conceived exists.
Therefore, a being than which no greater being can be conceived exists.

OK. Let's unpack that a little. This is Anselm's form of the argument. I once heard of a student in a philosophy class writing a little satire of this, proving that he could find a date. Because he could conceive of a date, a date must exist. When I first heard this myself I thought it was absurd. I can conceive of a giant, green slime monster. That doesn't mean a giant, greem slime monster exists.

But the difference between dates and giant, green slime monsters and this being Anselm spoke of is that the idea of 'existence' entails itself in Anselm's being in a way that it doesn't in the other cases. If you can conceive of the greatest possible being, but it doesn't exist, then it isn't the greatest possible being. A being that is just like it but actually exists would be greater.

On the surface this seems almost childish, yet after you have thought about it for a while it is quite elegant. Remember what deductive logic tells you. If an argument has a conclusion that follows from the premises, it is valid. If an argument is valid and has true premises, it is sound. That means the truth of the argument is guaranteed. In this case there is only one premise. The conclusion clearly follows. And the premise is clearly true. There you have it.

Things like this give me a deeper appreciation for God, and a deeper understanding. I don't need this proof for my faith. But does help me understand that God has engrained all of creation, including our rational minds, with clear evidence of Him. To me, the ontological argument for God's existence is just as beautiful as seeing a spectacular sunset and marveling at God's creation.

There is a story that one time Bertrand Russell, the great atheist philosophy, was walking down some steps and out into the yard at Cambridge (I'm pretty sure it was Cambridge). He was over heard saying, "Great God in boots! The Ontological Argument is valid!" Apparently he went on his way thinking other things and never pondered that. Our hearts need to follow our minds, and without God stirring our hearts we are blinded and won't come to true faith. But for those of us who have been so stirred, things like sunsets and the Ontological Argument are some of God's little gifts.

Chuck,

More or less, yes. My immediate point was just to point out the irony in avoiding reason in the age of reason. But what you say is more or less true, too. I don't think you can use logic/reason to bring a person to faith, not all the way anyway, but it can be a big part of the process. And if you reason correctly you can hardly avoid it. It takes an amazing spiritual blindness not to see the implications.

But I do think teaching logic/reason is avoided in public education. To some extent this is just by passive neglect, and in some cases it is deliberate. Remember Obama's friend Bill Ayers (I think that is his name) in the education department at the U of Chicago. Some liberals have infiltrated education departments for a reason (pun not intended). And they don't want people learning to think rationally for themselves. At the end of the day they don't believe in right or wrong, only power to control. So they want you to do what you are told, not think for yourself. I know I'm walking on thin ice a little, because there are a lot of good people in public education working hard, some of them doing great work, but most unwittingly going along within the system. And the system isn't designed for free thinkers.

One example of what happens when they try to promote proper thinking in public education is when they try to teach what they call 'critical thinking.' They don't teach proper reasoning, they just take a pet project, like global warming, and make sure the students are all indoctinated and emotionally charged against anyone who doubts it.

A friend of mine who is a retired prof from the U of Ottawa was in a debate with a feminist one time. He trounced her in the debate, and her only response was, "I don't accept your phallo-centric logic." It's the old, "your dead, white man way of thinking doesn't work for me" tactic.

But the bottom line is, if they want you to think what they want you to think about feminism, environmentalism, abortion, oil rigs, global warming, 'undocumented workers', homosexuals/AIDS, socialized medicine, evolution, and on and on, they can't allow you to reason for yourselves.

"Come, let use reason together..." Isaiah 1:18

Cory,

wow! I loved this stuff. I wish I had more time to pursue it.

Do you suggest that we don't teach logic anymore (or emphasize it) because it might lead us back to the judeo-christian ethic? We are thus able to foster upon the people our own codes of conduct and sexual mores, etc?

chuck

This is just a correction. In the last post I called the syllogisms 'categorical syllogisms'. Then I thought about it. Modus ponens and modus tollens are not 'categorical' but just simple syllogisms, and also established rules of inference.

Modernism to Postmodernism

In the article I gave you the link to in the last post, http://www.memoriapress.com/articles/Tortured-Logic.html,
he gives you a couple of syllogisms.

If God does not exist, then morality cannot be justified
But morality can be justified
Therefore God must exist

and

If God does not exist, then morality cannot be justified
God does not exist
Therefore, morality cannot be justified

These are both categorical syllogisms. It is deductive logic, which briefly means that if the premises are true, and the conclusion really does follow from the premises, then the conclusion is 100% guaranteed. In logic there are rules to follow to make sure the conclusion really does follow from the premises. (Incidentally, traditional logic is mostly concerned with proper reasoning from a given set of premises, not necessarily having to do with whether the premises are true.)

The first of the above syllogisms has a form called modus tollens.

If p, then q
Not q
Therefore, not p

The other is modus ponens.

If p, then q
p
Therefore, q

Both of these are examples of proper reasoning, i.e., they are both valid. However, those of us with a Judeo-Christian ethic recognize the first example here of having all true premises. Therefore it is not only valid, but sound. A sound argument is a valid argument with true premises.

The problem the enlightenment thinkers ran into is that they hadn't thought this through. They were trying to show you can have 'Good without God,' and it hadn't quite hit them that, "If there is no God, then everything is permissible," as Ivan Karamzov says in Dostoevsky's book. From about the time of Dostoevsky on people realized, as did Nietzche, that the major premise of the above syllogisms was true. So then one must decide whether the minor premise of the modus tollens or the modus ponens form is true.

If one accepts the modus tollens form, it seems to me one must reject much of what the Enlightenment accepted. Again, I'd be careful not to throw the baby out with the bath water. (see previous post) Although much of the Enlightenment was mistaken, not all of it. But generally speaking, if the Enlightenment was wrong, it seems prudent to back track and make sure we haven't thrown the baby out with the bath water in rejecting the Judeo-Christian view of reality. Unfortunately, that is what the major thrust of modernism has done.

So, it seems modernism embraced the modus ponens argument. What you end up with is the cognitive dissonance that most people find now. They want to say nothing is right and wrong, all the while telling you you're wrong for being a Christian. There is no right or wrong, only power.

That will lead us into some discussion of postmodernism. But one more quick point. Another name for the Enlightenment, or modernism, is the 'Age of Reason.' Supposedly we rejected Judeo-Christian thought for something more rational, and we are now at least inheritors of the 'age of reason,' if not still in it. Isn't it odd that we don't teach reason, ie logic, in the schools. I think it is that at the end of the day, the rejection of the Judeo-Christian worldview and adoption of modernism wasn't really all that 'logical'. To accept the modernist (and postmodernist) view of things we have to avoid logic, and just accept what we are told. Odd, isn't it.

So, the Ancient and Medievil thinkers embraced logic and reason much more than descendants of the 'age of reason.' It is important to understand that reality is not merely logical or rational. There is more to faith than that. But it is not irrational or illogical. Logic is important. Remember what we have talked about before, John 1:1 could just as well have been translated "In the beginning was the logic (logos), and the logic was with God, and the logic was God."

Modernism

This afternoon I just read an article from the Classical Teacher magazine. It just happens to be apropos. You can read it here http://www.memoriapress.com/articles/Tortured-Logic.html.

To start with, if you look back a ways in the blog I brought up Nietzsche, and how he is so misunderstood. He was an atheist, and he was wrong in the big picture, but there were a lot correctly insightful things in his ideas. He is a complicated character.

But for the moment let me get back to the idea of objectivity. I recently heard someone say that if something is objectively true, that means I can show it to you. If something is subjectively true it is based on my personal opinions and feelings, and I can't necessarily demonstrate it to you. Now, that is probably close to what the dictionary would say. But my point is that is a decidedly modern definition, not a Judeo-Christian definition. Up until the Enlightenment objectivity had to do with something coming from outside of ourselves, verses coming from our own tastes, desires, feelings, and opinions. Take, for example, the Ten Commandments. Are those truths objective or subjective? The Judeo-Christian perspective is that they are objective. They don't change based on our personal preferences, and they are imposed on us from outside us. They aren't a creation of our own.

The modern definition of objectivity is a little different. Things are objective only if they can be demonstrated through the senses. If you can see it, touch it, hear it, smell it, or taste it then it can be shown to be objective (another name for that is empiricism). This presents a problem for anything of a moral or religious nature. This is why at the end of modernity some people have been trying so hard to marginalize Judeo-Christian ideas which put so much stake in objective morality.

But there was a transition period in the early modern period. People like David Hume and Immanuel Kant believed in a 6th sense. It was not the same as the 6th sense in the Bruce Willis movie, but it was more or less the conscience. The conscience was a moral sense of knowing right and wrong, and it was objective in their view.

But here is where Nietzsche comes in with some profound insight. One of the goals of the Enlightenment was to establish good without God (Hume was an atheist, Kant was probably a practical atheist although a practicing Lutheran). If the Enlightenment was to throw off religious superstition they would have to show that they could prove things through reason and/or empiricism alone, without direct reference to God. The problem exposed by Nietzsche was that this 6th sense, or conscience, that was claimed to sense what was right and wrong, was really just a collection of personal tastes and opinions. The reason that people could generally agree early on in the Enlightenment about what the conscience said was because they were still recovering Christians, holding on to the old morality.

He was right. They said they wanted to prove what was 'good' without reference to God, but their ideas of 'good' were really ideas they inherited from their ancestors, who got them from God. Nietzsche realized that if God didn't exist some 'uberman' or 'higher man' would have to come along to show what was really right and wrong, and enforce it. It wasn't that he believed that whatever anyone powerful enough to enforce what he believed was ok. He believed, like the ancient Greco-Romans who he had a lot of respect for, that there was a certain way that lead to a vibrant and flourishing human life. There was some design or purpose, if you will. But it had to lead to a really powerful human life. His quote 'will to power' was kind of a mocking of Schleiermacher's (I think) quote 'will to live'. The 'will to live' was weak and pathetic in itself. Just a desire to live, to get by, was nothing. The 'will to power', to a vibrant and healthy and robust life was what was really needed. (Incidentally, that's partly why Nietzsche didn't like Darwin. 'Survival of the fittest' meant nothing to him. Mere survival, like the 'will to live' was weak.) But Nietzsche himself could not see exactly where to turn to find this Uberman. That's why he ended up speaking of an abyss.

That's about enough about Nietzsche. I just want to add that part of the reason he rejected Christianity was that to him, dying to yourself is weak and could not lead to that robust, vibrant life. Overall, I think Nietzsche was a confused and conflicted man. He knew the Enlightenment had failed, but he was left without anything to really turn to. To back up what I said a little, here's a quote from Dinesh D'Souza, a Christian writer. http://finchesandsparrows.blogspot.com/2009/04/nietzsches-abyss.html

I have more to say about the failure of the Enlightenment and Modernism, but I'll close this post for now. But before I digressed, part of my initial point was that all too often we Christians don't think with a Judeo-Christian mindset, but a modern one. This is dramatically evident in the difference between the Judeo-Christian and Modern definitions of objectivity. When discussing morality and justice, for instance, with non-Christians we don't have to assume the modern view of objectivity and we have every right to claim God's morality as objective and true.