Monday, August 31, 2009

Weekly Scripture

This one hit me like a ton of bricks:

"For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power." -1 Corinthians 1:17 (ESV)

Saturday, August 29, 2009

On Heresy

With all the vitriol that's been spewed in the history of the Church, between Catholics and Protestants, Calvinists and Arminians, and on and on, I feel a proper definition of "heresy" is in order. The term has far too often been abused and misused throughout the great debates in Christendom, and I therefore feel this task to be vital both practically, spiritually, and ecumenically.

Strictly speaking, "heresy" just means "false teaching". So in a sense any particular doctrine you view as false is, by definition, heretical. But the term, as any Christian will know, has come to be associated with it's stronger connotation, damnable heresy. Heresy which puts one in danger of being outside the universal Church, and therefore in danger of Hell. It is because the term has come to be taken mainly in it's stronger sense that I think we need to discuss how, and when, it should be used.

I propose the following: Something should be considered heresy if, and only if, it contradicts the first four creeds of the Christian Church. That is, the Apostles, Nicene, Athanasian, and Chalcedonian creeds. These four creeds are agreed upon as true by all of the three great traditions in Christendom: Roman Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants.

Because "heresy" has come to be near synonymous with "damnable heresy", we should only use it when a particular church, or Christian, contradicts anything in these creeds. Some examples of this would be denying the Trinity, the Hypostastic Union, or the Incarnation. Though only God can judge a person's heart, we can still say with confidence that denying such things puts one in danger of being outside salvation.

So when should the term not be used? It should not be used in reference to issues related to predestination, free-will, baptism, the Lord's Supper, or church government (to name a few). Yes, these issues are important, and sometimes even vital to a proper understanding of the Faith, but they do not effect whether one is truly a Christian or not. They are things which one should want to know the truth about, but not things which we should divide over, let alone accuse one another of being outside the catholic Church. We need to strive for unity in essentials and charity in non-essentials. I am Reformed, and believe that other understandings of the Gospel and Salvation are deficient and harmful, but I do not believe that Christ saves based on our doctrinal correctness, but on our coming to be united to Him by His sovereign will (this is the true, and beautiful, practical implication of supposed 'cold-hearted' Calvinism).

-Ben C.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Specter

She is the bane of still waters
Serenity's captor
Inducing a syndrome, Stockholm's best
She is the waning full moon
Yet a crescent bright
A first sign of movement, in a barren chest
The sky marked with splendor
The eyes, with wonder
We warmongering two, a rubicon crossed
The bridge in our hands
To the Imago Dei
We've gained more in sharing, then keeping what's lost

On The Problem of Evil Pt. 1

Throughout the ages there has been one problem put more forcefully to theism than any other: If an all-loving God exists, how can there be evil in the world? Would not He, like the best of us, want to eliminate it where it arose, or prevent it from arising altogether? The problem is an obvious one, and has been put to theism in various formulations throughout the history of philosophy. The renowned skeptic David Hume put it thus:

"Is [God] willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is impotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Whence then is evil?"

Philosopher J.L. Mackie stated it clearly as well:

"In its simplest form the problem is this: God is omnipotent; God is wholly good; and yet evil exists. There seems to be some contradiction between these three propositions, so that if any two of them were true the third would be false. But at the same time all three are essential parts of most theological positions; the theologian, it seems, at once must adhere and cannot consistently adhere to all three."

So, then, what is the theist to make of these claims? Must he abandon theism, or at the very least abandon belief in certain divine attributes (i.e. God’s being wholly-good)? To give a sufficient answer to this question, we must distinguish between two formulations of the problem of evil: The logical problem, and the evidential problem. The quotes above express the former. Part one of this discourse will deal with the logical problem. So just what is the logical problem?
There are several aspects to what philosophers classify as a logical problem. The first is that there must be an internal contradiction between two propositions. Here’s an example:

A) Bill is a bachelor
B) Bill is married to Margaret

These two statements contradict each other, obviously. But they don’t contradict each other because it’s improbable that Bill, a bachelor, would be married. They contradict each other because, upon understanding the definitions of the words marriage and bachelor, you see that they are logically incompatible. You don’t have to know whether Bill has a history of romance with Margaret, whether Margaret is the sort of girl who would fall for a slime ball like him, or that either of them even exist. So the contradiction is internal to these two propositions. They require no external information to validate or invalidate them. To break it down more still, let’s define bachelorism as P and marriage as Q. P, in this case, is such that P ^ Q (P and Q) would entail ~P (negation of P). So there is a logical inconsistency here.

So what the atheist is essentially claiming is that there is an internal inconsistency between the propositions,

A) An all-loving, omnipotent, omniscient God exists

and

B) Evil exists

Of course, other formulations might express B as “gratuitous evil exists” or “unnecessary amounts of evil exist”, but with respect to the logical problem the claim is the same: That there is a logical inconsistency between these ideas. But is there? Is it really that self-evident that an all-loving God would not have good reason for allowing the various evils and sufferings we see in the world? We must first explore some preliminary issues in order to sufficiently answer such questions.

First, we must clarify what the theist actually means when he claims that God is “all-powerful”. This is key to the rest of the whole discussion, so pay close attention. When we assign certain attributes to a person we assume that we’re working within the realm of logical coherence. For instance, when I say “Tim can think of any color”, do I mean “Tim can think of any color including ones that don’t exist”? No, of course not! The point is that, in using language, we assume logical coherence.

So how does this apply to God’s attribute of omnipotence? It means that when we say “God can do anything” what we’re really saying is, “God can do anything logically possible.” Just as, when we say, “Tim can think of any color” what we’re really saying is, “Tim can think of any color which is logically possible to think of.” Non-colors, or colors from non-existent dimensions, or whatever, aren’t logically possible to conceive of. Similarly, actions God performs must be assumed to be within the realm of logical coherence, otherwise we aren’t really saying anything meaningful. Richard Swinburne, professor of philosophy at Oxford University, makes the following point:

"God can do anything, but only some human sentences describe things. The sentence, 'God brings about your existence and non-existence at the same time' doesn’t describe anything."

Ever heard someone say “If God is all-powerful, could He create a rock which even He could not lift?” Well, the ideas expressed above resolve this issue. It is only if one defines God’s omnipotence as meaning “God can do anything logically possible and logically impossible” that these sorts of objections carry any weight. But almost no serious theist has ever defined omnipotence in this way. The definition, then, is settled. God’s omnipotence means that He can do anything logically possible.

So, then, what does this mean for the atheist who presents the problem of evil as a logical one? It means that he must show that there is no possible reason God could have for allowing evil in the world. This, I think, is a near impossible task. If the theist can show that there could be situations in which it is logically impossible for God to remove evil without thwarting some higher good (which the atheist would agree is always what a wholly-good God desires), then he will have succeeded in defeating the logical problem. As philosopher Greg Ganssle points out:
We don’t need to claim that we know why, exactly, God allows evil. We only need a possible reason that shows that the existence of evil is not inconsistent with the existence of God. And this, now, brings us to the most important figure in contemporary philosophy of religion: Notre Dame’s Alvin Plantinga.

In 1978 Plantinga published a little book called God, Freedom, and Evil that would change the face of philosophy of religion forever. In it he demonstrated that there is no logical problem for the theist. To do this, he showed that all the theist need do to dismantle the problem is to show any possible reason why God would allow evil for the sake of some higher good (keep in mind, again, the fact that God can only do that which is logically possible). He thus employed the Free-Will Defense (hereafter referred to as FWD) to show some scenarios in which this could be the case. The argument could be structured thus:

1) It is possible that among God’s highest moral values is the respecting of free-will, and the free response to accept or reject Him.
2) But that entails that some people might freely choose to reject Him, and as a consequence inflict moral evils upon the world.
3) In this case, it would be logically impossible for God to achieve the considerably high moral good of man’s free choice to accept or reject Him if He chose to destroy that evil. For that would entail destroying our creaturely freedom.
4) Therefore, God has a sufficient moral reason for allowing moral evils in the world which are caused by our free-will.

If you find the premises un-compelling or improbable, remember that the theist doesn’t have to show whether they’re actually true, or even probable. Rather, he merely has to show that these premises are possible given theism. For, if you remember what the logical problem actually entails, if it’s even possible that any of this is true on theism then there is no internal inconsistency.

Now, it may be objected at this point that God could create any possible world, including a world in which everyone freely chooses the good. There are two responses to this objection. The first being the fact that it’s unreasonable to assume that God could create any possible world. The second being Plantinga’s concept of transworld depravity. Let’s first deal with the former. Philosophers such as Alvin Plantinga, William Lane Craig, Richard Swinburne and others have all pointed out that God cannot create just any possible world He wants. If He tried to actualize a possible world in which everyone chose the good, the only way he could guarantee they would is by actively causing them to do so, thereby thwarting their freedom. So, as Craig notes, it may not be feasible for God to try and create such a world. Because, if He were to try, the creatures in it still might end up rebelling against Him with their free-will. But ultimately this insight isn’t necessary for the current discussion, and I will discuss it more at length in the following discourse concerning the evidential problem.

So now we come to transworld depravity. This concept, like many of Plantinga’s, is indeed an odd one. The idea is that it could be that there are certain people who suffer from a condition called transworld depravity, which means analytically: In every possible world in which (P) exists, and has a significant level of freedom, P will on certain occasions act morally wrong with respect to at least one action. Again, this doesn’t have to be true or even likely, it merely needs to be possible. Plantinga goes on to say that this transworld depravity may not be only possessed by some, but may be a universal property of individuals. If this were the case, then it would be logically impossible for God to create a world which contained creatures with a significant amount of freedom and for them not to commit at least one act. For all we know, this could be true. I would even go further than Plantinga and claim that it’s epistemically natural to believe this. That is to say, I think most people will form the belief that this could very well be true given God’s desire to create any possible world with a significant amount of significantly free creatures. Again, if this were the case then it would be impossible for God to create a world of morally autonomous creatures who freely chose to accept Him without also having a number of other creatures who committed at least one morally evil act.

But now the question inevitably arises: What of natural evil? Isn’t there an inconsistency with God being wholly-good and evils occurring which are not caused by the free-wills of humans? In this case, indeed, there would be no logical impossibility in taking such things away without thwarting our free-will. Plantinga, taking it in stride, uses the FWD again for this very objection. He says that it’s also possible, given theism, that the natural evil in the world is the result of the free action of some other creatures (i.e., fallen angels). He also points out that it’s possible these fallen angels are actually severely transworld depraved beings. Given that this were the case, the FWD again reveals that God would be upholding His highest desire for moral autonomy by not intervening to stop these actions.

In conclusion I think Plantinga, and his predecessors, have sufficiently demonstrated that there is no logical contradiction between the idea of an all-loving God and the existence of evil (gratuitous, maximal, or minimal). But is this just the conclusion of some crazy evangelical scholars? Actually, no. It has become near universally accepted by contemporary philosophers of all stripes that the logical problem is a problem no more. Rather, the debate has now moved to the battlefield of the evidential problem of evil. There is virtually no literature now circulating which utilizes the logical form of the problem. William Rowe, the contemporary atheist philosopher, has said:

"Some philosophers have contended that the existence of evil is logically inconsistent with the existence of the theistic God. No one, I think, has succeeded in establishing such an extravagant claim. Indeed, granted incompatibalism, there is a fairly compelling argument for the view that the existence of evil is logically consistent with the existence of the theistic God. (For a lucid statement of this argument, see Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom and Evil.)"

Along the same lines, prominent atheist philosopher James Still has said:

"It would seem that, barring any new necessarily true premises from God’s omnipotence, omniscience, and goodness, Mackie’s conclusion that theism is logically inconsistent is false."

Again, Still has said:

"Based on Plantinga’s and Adam’s refutation…I am satisfied that the existence of God and evil are not implicitly contradictory."

Having now established with reasonable firmness that there is no inconsistency between the idea of God and the idea of evil, we must now hasten to our more lengthy, and more comprehensive, study of the evidential problem.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Coherence vs. Correspondence Theories of Truth

So I've been reading W.V. Quine's "Methods of Logic" lately to try and sharpen my analytic skills. This, of course, for the sake of my main interest in the philosophy of religion. I've only just begun the book, but it's already got the gears a'turning.

The thought occured to me: Why is it that things should stand in logical relations to one another? What necessitates "If A=B, and B=C, then A=C" ?

The logical law, of course, expressed in the above formula is transitory. But again, why is it that it should work like this? One might immediately give the simple solution that what we mean when we say it "works" is merely that it is true by virtue of being coherent to our self-constructed logical system as a whole. This is known as the "coherence" theory of truth. A proposition is considered true if it relates to the majority of our other beliefs in a non-contradictory way.

This theory is the one which Quine advocates. Let's assume he's correct (I believe he is not), but let us nonetheless for the sake of argument. If it's true that all our beliefs should be coherent to our logical system as a whole, and should abide by it's most basic laws, then let us sharply consider the following principle:

1) Any given entity X must have an explanation for it's existence.

- support: Nothing can exist inexplicably, even if it exists necessarily. It would at least find it's explanation within it's own ontological essence (e.g. God is said, in classical theism, to find his explanation in his very nature).

This is the so-called "Principle of Sufficient Reason". If the coherence theory of truth, then, is to remain coherent then it itself must abide by this principle. Afterall, is the proposition "The coherence theory of truth is true" exempt from the system? I think not. So we have two options here. Either

1) The system finds its explanation apart from itself.

or

2) The system explains itself.

I find the notion that it explains itself almost paradoxical. The statement "The proposition 'the coherence theory of truth is true' is coherent to the coherence theory of truth" seems a misnomer, if not arbitrary. I think the more likely, and indeed coherent, of the two options is that it does not explain itself. There is something other than the system of logic proposed which explains it. But what could? I think two options may suffice. Either some form of platonism or some form of theism. Platonism would insure that logical relations exist necessarily as some sort of transcendent Form. Theism would be near to this, but would have the extra benefit of explaining how propositions could exist in the absence of human percievers, or minds rather (that is another discussion altogether).

So if what I say is true (it could very well not be, I have not yet subjected them to much real analysis) then the coherence theory of truth, including the principle of sufficient reason, may actually necessitate a correspondence theory of truth. Interesting indeed.

A Theological Musing

Okay so I want to know your thoughts on something I was pondering today...

In the passages in Acts, Romans, Ephesians and the like that use words like "chosen", "predestined", "elect", and "appointed", does it make sense to say that the choosing or whatnot is according to a foreseen action?

Here's my opinion:

Linguistically speaking, the terms "choose", "appoint", and "elect" have no sensible meaning if they refer to just SEEING something beforehand (the Arminian view). If I took a time machine to the future, saw that Annette would love me, and then declared "I have appointed Annette unto romance with myself", would that make any sense? Or if I looked into a Palantir (LOTR reference, go watch it ; P) and foresaw that my Dad would whack me in the head with a sharp back-hand, would it make sense for me to then say "I have predestined my dad unto head whacking"? I don't think so. Appointment doesn't connotate any sort of knowledge, even foreknowledge, it connotates a choosing.

Some say that the predestination has to do with what Christians, after accepting Jesus, will become (sanctified, glorified, or whatever). So it's a predestination to certain events and changes, but not a predestination of specific people to which things like glorification and the like will come to pass. But this explanation makes no sense to me either, because many times Paul isn't referring to any part of the salvific process, but to PERSONS. This definitely couldn't be argued in a passage like the one in Acts (a Lukean text) which says "...and all who were appointed unto eternal life believed".

There's my two cents and thoughts as of now. Shoot!

God, Evidence, and Knowledge

So in my recent wanderings about the blogosphere, YouTube, various atheist websites, and the like, I've found something bothersome. Many atheists will take quotes (out of context) by philosophers such as William Lane Craig which express the sentiment that Christians need not be aware of good historical, scientific, or philosophical evidences to be justified in their faith. They then proceed to claim "Aha! See! Christians don't care about evidence and reason, and are urged to not care!" But this is patently false and misunderstands what these various philosophers are trying to get across in context.

So, I'd like to take this opportunity to clarify in what sense Christians should and would have knowledge of God in a theistic universe.

Consider the following proposition (A): God desires all men to be saved.

Now consider a second proposition (B): Man's salvation will depend upon their having sufficient evidence for belief.

Upon consideration, the conjunction of A and B is vastly improbable. If man's salvation depended upon their having sufficient evidence for belief, how many would be lost? What of the vast amounts of people in countries where educational resources are scarce? What of the child who has an inability to comprehend such evidences? These and many other obvious considerations render B highly unlikely on A.

But A must depend on something. If God desires all men to be saved, but B is an unlikely condition for this goal, what could be the condition? To answer this question, I will consider two options open to the orthodox Christian. The first is what I will call the "Arminian" explanation, though I use this as an umbrella term for virtually any non-Reformed view of Resistable Grace.

Consider the idea formulated (M): God has insured, in His providence, that every man will have a sufficient revelation in conscience and nature to give him opportunity to accept God's salvation.

If M is conjoined with A, then we have a more likely scenario. In this case, salvation is not dependent upon contingencies such as historical or geographical location. Rather, God provides a common grace via general revelation in nature and conscience so that everyone has a chance at some point in their life to accept His salvation. Also, after this acceptance is achieved, there is the Christian doctrine of the "internal witness of the Holy Spirit". This comes from a Pauline passage which says "His Spirit testifies with our spirit that we are children of God", implying a sort of direct awareness after conversion of God's salvation.

The next route we may take is to deny A. If God does not decree that everyone be saved, but only His elect (as in Calvinism and certain forms of Thomism), then this has consequences for knowledge of God. In the Calvinistic system God has decreed that some receive salvation and that others do not, implying a view of meticulous providence wherein God irresistibly draws the elect to Himself. In this case, God has no need for evidence or reason to bring His elect to salvation, due to His being the sole (efficient) cause of their coming to faith. After they come to faith, He would insure that they have knowledge of Him that is not contingent upon the shifting sands of evidence.

Lastly, all of this is not to say that various sorts of evidences aren't useful. A person should know that they have good grounds for believing Christianity, but this does not mean that they have no grounds for faith if they don't (due to their direct assurance given by the regenerating work of the Spirit). Indeed, I think that God uses philosophical reasoning and etc. in bringing people to salvation on occasion. But again, the ultimate reason for their drawing is not the evidence itself utterly compelling them, but God Himself compelling them through the evidence, using it as a tool.

All of this is an extremely simplified version of an epistemological theory known as "Reformed Epistemology", developed by analytic philosopher Alvin Plantinga. If any of this seemed unclear, I'd encourage you to read up on it.

An Argument for the Importance of Sound Doctrine

Tonight I was having a conversation with my Dad about predestination (he is an Arminian, and I, Reformed). One of the issues he brought up was this: Even if we found out, say, that unconditional election were true, what difference would it make? How would it change or improve your relationship with God?

I quickly countered that the doctrine of Perseverance, at least, was a great comfort to many people who struggle with doubt and sin. He replied that the average Christian could be comforted in the same way, but from some other doctrine (this wasn't specified, but here's a likely example: Someone may be comforted in their salvation simply due to their belief that God is compassionate, but not that they are eternally secure). This got me thinking about some moral and epistemological issues, one of which I'd like to discuss here. The point of the following discussion is to demonstrate that correct Christian doctrine is profitable and important.

NOTE: The following discussion assumes that situations generally, and not just personal acts, can be characterized in a moral way. That is, the situation 'Jones' daughters are playing happily on the playground' is a morally good and valuable situation, though the children's acts of 'playing' may be considered morally indifferent.

Consider the following triad:

1. Person p believes q and experiences y as a direct result of q.

2. Person p believes q, experiences y as a direct result of q, and q is true.

3. Person p believes q, experiences y as a direct result of q, and q is false.

Both (2) and (3) are characterizations of (1). My question is this: Does (2) render (1) a maximally good state of affairs, does (3) render (1) a maximally good state of affairs, or are (2) and (3) indifferent to how we characterize (1) in terms of 'goodness'?

I think few and far between would answer with the second option. If he or she were a pragmatist, then the third option may suffice. But, barring pragmatism, I think most would agree that the first option is correct. That is, (2) renders (1) a maximally good state of affairs.

Now let's fill these propositions in with some everyday examples. Most could agree that, of the following three options, option (3) is the best:

1. Sally comes home and finds a cake baked for her. She believes (falsely) that her boyfriend Fred baked it due to a spontaneous act of kindness, and becomes grateful.

2. Sally comes home and finds a cake baked for her. She believes (falsely) that her boyfriend Fred baked it due to a fond rememberance of the day they met, and becomes grateful.

3. Sally comes home and finds a cake baked for her. She believes that her boyfriend Fred baked it due to the fact that it is their Anniversary (which is true), and becomes grateful.

Now, let's note a few things about each scenario. In scenario (1), Fred did not in fact do this as an act of spontaneous kindness. Yet, the product is the same: Sally is grateful. Not only is sally grateful, but she believes something good about Fred (namely, that he would perform a spontaneous act of kindness). Let us add also, that this is the sort of thing Fred in fact does from time to time! But in this case that motive had nothing to do with baking the cake for Sally. Now consider this: Fred proceeds to discover that Sally believes something false about his motive for baking the cake. Will he be as satisfied with her gratefulness, and the situation as a whole? Obviously, the answer is "No!". He thinks, and I think our moral intuitions support this, that the situation is "less good" then it could be (keep in mind that Sally is nonetheless morally innocent. The characterization of "goodness" is attributed merely to the situation itself).

In scenario (2), Fred's motive was not, in fact, that he experienced a fond rememberance of the day he and Sally met. This scenario is different, though, from (1) for the following reasons: It is likely that a fond rememberance of the day he and Sally met occured earlier in the day. In fact, it might have been a necessary component of his primary motive! That is, he might have had a fond rememberance of the day they met, it reminded him of their Anniversary, and he proceeded to bake the cake. The "Anniversary" itself may entail the fact, or even be equal to, 'the day Fred met Sally'. Nonetheless, she doesn't know the full truth about Fred's motive. And, therefore, were he to discover that she believed this falsehood (or semi-falsehood), he would be less satisfied with Sally's gratefulness, and the situation as a whole, then he could be. The situation is still, in other words, not 'maximally good'.

Thus it appears that scenario (3) becomes, with respect to the other two options, the 'maximally good' state of affairs. I think this can be agreed upon by most, and is at least more likely than it's negation. Therefore, let us accept it for the sake of furthering the discussion.

How does this then apply to various religious experiences, affections, and beliefs? Well, let's say that some person A believes that he or she need not worry about her salvation because God is loving and just. Let us assume also that she lacks a belief in eternal security, which, for the sake of argument, is a true belief. Now let's take an eagle-eye view and ponder this from God's perspective. He may be satisfied that A is comforted in his or she salvation, and that A believes God is loving and just. Indeed, she should believe God is loving and just, and that she can be confident in her salvation, for they are both true! Yet, I think God would still have the desire that A realize she can be confident in her salvation because she is eternally secure, kept by His power. God is just and loving, and His justice and love may even be the motivations for rendering A eternally secure. Nonetheless A lacks all of the relevant information appropriate to her confidence in salvation. Not only should she be confident in God's love and justice, but she also should be confident in His decree of her security! If she had all the information appropriate to her confidence, I think it is reasonable to assume God would deem this situation 'maximally good' (In the same way, Fred might be happy Sally was grateful for his rememberance of the day they met. But that was not all the information appropriate to his motive for baking the cake; namely, that it was their Anniversary).

So why assume a situation like this is 'maximally good', as opposed to the others? Here are three good reasons:

1. The person's belief is grounded in the truth appropriate to it.

2. The person will have knowledge of a truth, which is good in itself.

and

3. The person will likely benefit from this knowledge in a moral way (e.g., Sally will likely increase in her love for Fred's attentiveness to their romantic past, and they will grow. Or, person A will likely increase in his or her appreciation of God's power if A knows he or she is eternally secure).

So, how is this relevant? It is relevant because many Christians today do not care much for correct doctrine in any areas but essentials. I have demonstrated, however, that there are many situations in which correct doctrine about non-essentials is morally good, and in fact beneficial to your relationship with God in relevant ways. Not only this, but my argument implies that God in fact desires precision of doctrine in His followers, for the reasons noted above.

Under the Mercy,

- Ben C.

A Possible Aid to Cosmological Arguments via Possible World Semantics

So, I'm not extremely well-versed in the gritty details of cosmological arguments or possible-worlds semantics, but I had a thought which might be a good one in-embryo concerning these issues.

The thought is this: If every possible world is a complete discription of how reality might be, then wouldn't it be impossible for any world to contain an infinite set of moments? The reason is this: Every moment would correspond to a proposition describing a state of affairs, i.e., a fact. A possible world which contained an infinite number of moments would have the set ("~" being infinity): {~...t', t*, t^...~}. That is, it would contain a set of infinite facts, and thus could never be a complete description of how reality might be. The argument would go like this:

P1. Every possible world is a complete description of reality.
P2. For a description to be complete, it cannot contain a set of facts with infinite members.
C3. Therefore, there is no possible world which contains a set of facts with infinite members.

This at least has intuitive appeal, and avoids objections to the standard argument that the infinite cannot be traversed, or that it leads to mathematical absurdities. Of course the argument needs a lot of sprucing up and explanation, but it may have something to it.

The Problem of Religious Plurality

A frequent objection leveled against Christian faith is what you might call the 'problem of religious plurality'. Often a non-believer will say 'There are just so many religions, how could any of them be true?', or 'There are just so many religions, how could they not all be right in their own way?'. I intend to answer both forms of the objection in this note.

So let's first address the former question. That is, if there are so many differing opinions about God and religion, how could any of them be true? The person asking this sort of question usually has one of two implications in mind. They are as follows:

1A: The plurality of religion shows that religion is not the sort of thing which, in principle, could be resolved through our methods of reasoning, and therefore we should remain agnostic on such questions.

1B: The plurality of religion is unlikely on theism, and therefore weakens the rationality of theistic religious belief.

Let's first try to give an account of 1A. For many people in the modern (or shall we say post-modern) era, religion is a sort of separate sphere of inquiry, utterly distinct from the sciences and/or the logical tools of philosophy. They are non-overlapping spheres. Science, they say, asks "how", while religion asks "why". This, however, is a false dichotomy, one that has been circulating in our culture since the evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould initially proposed it. The fact is that religion makes truth claims not only about the "why" but also the "how". Religion makes claims as to what is real, and thus is a metaphysic which is subject to the sciences and philosophy.

One example of this would be the idea in much Eastern religion that the world is eternal. It has existed forever, and will go on forever. This idea, however, is repudiated by modern cosmology. The Big Bang theory says that the universe has a finite past. It exploded into being ex nihilo about 14 billion years ago. This, therefore, serves as disconfirmation of eternal views of the universe. It also serves as confirmation for finite views of the universe (the creation idea prevalent in Islam, Christianity, and Judaism).

Another example would be the proclamation of, say, Christianity, that we are not purely material beings; we are spiritual. We are immaterial souls, or minds, which possess material bodies. This view is known in philosophy as mind-body dualism. Neuroscience, along with philosophical analyzation of mental states, could serve as either confirmation or disconfirmation of this idea. If, upon analyzing mental states, we find that they have certain immaterial properties, then mind-body dualism is confirmed. But if, for instance, neuroscience succeeds in identifying all mental states with brain states, then we have disconfirmation. A last example would be that Christianity says Jesus of Nazareth was crucified and died, whereas Islam says he was taken up into heaven, never experiencing death. The historical evidence for one or the other view would support one or the other view (it does support, by the way, the Christian one. Jesus' crucifixion is the surest thing we know about him historically). It is in these, and many other ways, that science, philosophy, and religion are overlapping spheres. Thus we see that religion is, in principle, the sort of thing which can be decided to be either true or false. And thus by implication we should not remain agnostic or indifferent to such questions, but should investigate the truth claims of the various world religions.

Now let's look at 1B. In what sense is the non-believer claiming that theism is unlikely given vast religious plurality? I think the claim is something like the following inductive syllogism:

1. If God exists, then he will probably want all people to know the truth about him.
2. All people do not know the truth about him.
3. Therefore, God probably does not exist.

In the first and second premises, religious plurality is seen as the result of God not insuring people have the right beliefs about himself, and therefore creating a vast and contradicting array of religion. If God wanting all people to know himself were the only part of religious metanarratives, then this argument may hold weight. But there are, in fact, other considerations which come from various religious doctrines which show that the plurality of religious belief is perfectly compatible with theism. First of all, a theist who does not adhere to a particular religion has several options open to himself to refute this objection. First, theism entails that God is supremely loving, and therefore the plurality of religious belief can be easily resolved in conjunction with the following proposition: 'God has a morally sufficient reason for allowing a plurality of religious belief'. What that reason exactly is we can remain agnostic about, given our limited knowledge due to historical context and etc. But if the theist, simplicitir, wants to go further, he could add something like 'All people will know the truth about God upon death', and the objection is evaded once more. Of course, the theist does not have available to him or her the wealthy resources of religious doctrines, to which we now shall turn.

In keeping with the specifically Christian nature of this exposition, let's look at a few ways in which Christian doctrines can make sense of the plurality of religion. First of all, there is the doctrine that God has bestowed us with freedom of the will. So, we can initially say that the plurality of religious belief is partially due to our autonomy as human beings. A further doctrine we may use is the doctrine of the fall. The fall teaches that humanity initially rebelled against God, and this rebellion, from then on, came to propogate itself throughout the entire human race. Whether this was through original sin, sin-by-imitation, or so-called 'sin-structures' is irrelevant. The main point is that humanity has rebelled, become utterly lost in sin, and has turned away to idols and false gods. Scripture says that God 'gave them over' to these things. He gave them over to their own corrupt nature. Therefore, another partial explanation of the plurality of religious belief is that humanity once retained the right and true knowledge of God, but has now lost in in their rebellion and blindness.

The most powerful explanation of religious plurality, however, comes from the Christian doctrine, or shall I say doctrines, of salvation (so-called Soteriology). There are three main views which render the plurality of religious belief an, at best, irrelevant fact in the Christian story. They are as follows:

2A: Christian Universalism
2B: Implicit Salvation
2C: Calvinism

2A teaches that God will, in the end, save every single person. All peoples, despite their present state, will come to know either now, or in eternity, that Jesus Christ is their savior. They will collectively embrace him, and we will all spend eternity with him in paradise. Under this view, as you can see, God allows the plurality of religion belief because it is ultimately irrelevant to their final salvation and knowledge of the truth. It's sort of like a parent allowing their child to believe in much of the fairy tales they do while they're young, knowing that they will soon be grown up and know the truth of the matter.

2B teaches that, although explicit faith in Jesus is normative for salvation, it is also possible for people to have a sort of implicit faith in Christ as the Logos. In this line of thinking, someone can be a Christian without knowing it by virtue of their reaching out to God using their best lights. For instance, a muslim could be sincerely serving God as creator and livi in accordance with love and peace, and in this sense be reaching out to God as best he can, and therefore Christ's sacrifice will apply to him in a special way. Another example might be a philosopher (agnostic, atheist, or whatever) who reaches out to God as the Divine Rationale (Logos), and is thus saved by virtue of his or her implicit relation to Jesus. In this case, again, the plurality of religion is not an issue with respect to people's ultimate knowledge of or salvation by God.

2C is the harshest, but I believe the most biblical, view. Under Calvinism, the entire human race is condemned to Hell (as all Christianity believes it is without Christ's sacrifice). Out of fallen humanity, God then proceeds to show mercy to some. Their salvation then is the result of His sovereign grace. They are, as Calvinism (and the bible, I might add), calls the "Elect". In this case, those who come to explicit saving knowledge of Jesus are those whom God has chosen to save, and the rest, with all their false beliefs about God, false religions, and etc., were condemned anyway. Therefore, the plurality of religious belief becomes, again, an irrelevant fact. Whether they believe in Allah or whether they believe in Shiva has no bearing on anything but furthering their already deserved condemnation. Again, I realize this belief is harsh, and I do hold it, but it is by no means the only warranted explanation coming from a Christian perspective.

And thus the first objection, 'Given the plurality of religious belief, how could any one be true?' is resolved. Religious truths are, in principle, discernable. And religious plurality, on theism in general, and specifically Christian theism, is not that big of an issue, if not altogether irrelevant.

So let's look at the second formulation of the objection. This formulation tends to come from the religious pluralist (one who believes that all religions somehow lead to God and that they're all saying the same thing in different words). As the objector puts it, 'Given the vast array of religious beliefs, how could they not all be true in their own ways?'. Another way it has been put it 'Aren't all religions worshiping essentially the same God anyway?'. I will try to answer these questions sufficiently.

First of all, things aren't true 'in their own way'. Things are either true, or they are false. This is an issue with postmodernism in general, and not only in its application to religion. If Christianity says Jesus is the Son of God, and Islam that he was merely a great prophet, both cannot be true 'in their own way'. These are mutually exclusive ideas. If one is true, the other is necessarily false. So unless the relativist wants to cut his own throat and say that relativism is ALSO relative, he must shut his mouth and accept the rules of logic. The idea of subjective truth is easily disposed with.

Next, there is the proposition that all religions are really worshiping the same God. This question brings up important issues relating to identity. To what degree does P know X, if P has mostly false beliefs about X? Let's think through this objection by way of analogy.

Let's say that I know a certain man named Joe Shmidt. You say you know him as well. I say 'Oh really? So you've visited where he lives in California then?'. You reply' California? Joe Shmidt lives in Colorado!'. I reply, 'Joe Shmidt? With blonde hair and green eyes'?. 'What? Old Shmiddty has brown hair and blue eyes!' you respond. By the end of the conversation, we have only two things in common with respect to our ideas of Joe Shmidt: He is a human being, and he is male. Then, to what degree, are we even refering to the same person anymore? You would begin to suspect we were talking about two different people!

We may take the analogy further and say we both praised Joe Shmidt for being such a wonderful human being. We praise him for being born and for being a swell guy. In this case, we are praising him for similiar reasons, even identical reasons, but would you then say we were praising the same person given all the other contradictory things we ascribe to him? I think not.

In the same way, to what degree are two people worshiping the same God if one believes he was incarnate, died for our sins, is identified with Jesus of Nazareth, and is a Trinity; And the other believes that he was never incarnate, is by no means Jesus Christ, is not a Trinity, and whose one true prophet is Muhammad? They may both believe that there is one Creator-God who cares for humanity and has revealed Himself, but they have so many other very important and conflicting beliefs about Him that it would be senseless to say they knew, let alone worshiped, the same God. I think this idea of identity-knowledge is a good one, and demonstrates that different religions are emphatically NOT worshiping and engaging with the same God.

In conclusion, the fact of religious plurality neither shows that there is no way to discover religious truth, nor that all religions are equally valid. The objection fails on several accounts, is resolvable, and should therefore be rejected. Hopefully this discussion has served to clarify some important issues relating to religion, and specifically Christian faith.

NOTE: There are non-theistic religions which went largely unaddressed in this discussion. The reason was A. I was primarily concerned with how the objection related to theism, and specifically Christianity. And B. Most of what was said in this note could also be applied to non-theistic religion (such as its truth claims about the natural or moral structure of the world).