Friday, October 24, 2008

A Reply to Tennant on Theistic Foundationalism vs. the Objectivist Axioms

In the round of comments following my blog Another Response to David, Part 6: Signs of the Legend, commenter David Parker identified his worldview’s starting point as the statement “the Bible is the Word of God.” I had raised a number of brief objections to this statement serving as a genuine starting point. For the record, here is what I had written:
Well, for one thing, your founding affirmation assumes the truth of mine; mine would have to be true before you could chance to propose yours. See for instance my blog Theism and Its Piggyback Starting Point. Also, in tandem with my previous point, the affirmation you propose as your founding truth is not conceptually irreducible, which means that it assumes prior truths which would need to be identified and explored for any prior assumptions they make. Also, the statement "the Bible is the Word of God" does not identify a perceptually self-evident fact. Even if we accept it as true, it would have to be the conclusion of prior inference, which itself would ultimately need to be rooted in the perceptually self-evident. We could spend days and weeks exploring why one might accept it as truth, where as 'existence exists' identifies a fact which is perceptually self-evident, undeniable, inescapable. Another concern is that it is not undeniable: I can deny the assertion that "the Bible is the Word of God" and I am in no way undercutting truths which I do affirm or contradicting facts which I accept as facts. Another problem (and I'll stop with this), is: what exactly is it referring to? It certainly does not have the scope of reference that 'existence exists' has (since 'existence' is the widest of all concepts, it includes everything which exists), and seems to be irrelevant to pretty much everything. Its applicability is wholly artificial, forced as it is as an interpretative filter on a reality which has no need for such notions. To justify the claim that it has relevance in our world, the one affirming this claim would probably resort to the claim that the universe and everything within it were created by said "God." But this again is not perceptually self-evident; that the universe was created by an act of consciousness (e.g., "God spoke the universe into existence") is a claim for which I have certainly seen no good evidence whatsoever.
In essence, my objections are that the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” could not be fundamental because:
(a) It assumes prior truths, for instance the truth of my worldview’s starting point, and consequently could not be fundamental.

(b) The statement “the Bible is the Word of God” is not conceptually irreducible (i.e., it consists of terms which can and must be defined in terms of prior concepts)

(c) The statement “the Bible is the Word of God” does not identify a perceptually self-evident fact (even if it were true, the statement in question does not denote a fact given in immediate awareness, but would need to be a conclusion of prior inference)

(d) It is not undeniably true (I can deny the claim that “the Bible is the Word of God” without contradicting genuinely fundamental facts)

(e) The statement “the Bible is the Word of God” does not identify a universally attendant fact

(f) The statement “the Bible is the Word of God” is far too narrow to serve as a starting point

(g) Justification of the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” as a founding principle would resort to other claims (e.g., “the universe was created by God”) which themselves are not fundamental, perceptually self-evident, conceptually irreducible, etc.
In addition to these points, one could also raise other objections, which I’ll get to below.

In my blog Probing Mr. Manata’s Poor Understanding of the Axioms, I listed the following qualifying criteria which an axiom needs to satisfy in order to be an axiom:
It names a perceptually self-evident fact
Its truth is not inferred from prior truths
Its truth is conceptually irreducible
Its truth is implicit in all perception
Its truth is implicit in all knowledge and any statement
Its truth must be assumed even in denying it
My points above jointly serve to disqualify the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” as an axiom for failure to meet these conditions, and consequently I conclude that “the Bible is the Word of God” cannot serve as a fundamental principle for a rational worldview.

Now it should be clear that the axioms proposed by Objectivism fulfill these criteria. Those axioms are the axioms of existence, consciousness, and identity. The facts that existence exists (i.e., there is a reality), that consciousness is consciousness of something (i.e., that a subject is aware of some object), and that to exist is to be something specific, finite and distinct from anything else that exists, are self-evident, independent of “prior truths” (for there could be no truths prior to these facts), indefinable in terms of prior concepts (i.e., conceptually irreducible; to what would any “prior concepts” refer? Blank out), implicit in any act of perceiving and in any knowledge, claim, thought, memory, emotion, exercise of volition, etc., and would have to be true in order to be challenged, denied, ignored, etc.

Detractors of Objectivism often object to the axioms on the basis that there are no self-evident facts, that “self-evident” is meaningless, or that what is self-evident to one person is not self-evident to another. Sometimes they try to invent other reasons for challenging the axioms, but they are doomed to result in futility.

Peikoff presents an elegant illustration, in the form of a mock dialogue in which the defender of these axioms assumes for the sake of argument that they are false, in order to show how they are in fact inescapably true and fundamental, even in an attempt to deny their truth:
A. “Your objection to the self-evident has no validity. There is no such thing as disagreement. People agree about everything.”

B. “That’s absurd. People disagree constantly, about all kinds of things.”

A. “How can they? There’s nothing to disagree about, no subject matter. After all, nothing exists.”

B. Nonsense. All kinds of things exist. You know that as well as I do.”

A. “That’s one. You must accept the existence axiom even to utter the term ‘disagreement’. But, to continue, I still claim that disagreement is unreal. How can people disagree, since they are unconscious beings who are unable to hold ideas at all?”

B. “Of course people hold ideas. They are conscious beings – you know that.”

A. “There’s another axiom. But even so, why is disagreement about ideas a problem? Why should it suggest that one or more of the parties is mistaken? Perhaps all of the people who disagree about the very same point are equally, objectively right?”

B. “That’s impossible. If two ideas contradict each other, they can’t both be right. Contradictions can’t exist in reality. After all, things are what they are. A is A.” (Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, pp. 9-10)
Here we see how a thinker who began by disputing the truth of the axioms, ends up not only assuming them, but protesting that they are true when their defender, taking the role of a devil’s advocate, goes along with the view that they are untrue. Peikoff continues:
Existence, consciousness, identity are presupposed by every statement and by every concept, including that of “disagreement.” (They are presupposed even by invalid concepts, such as “ghost” or “analytic” truth.) In the act of voicing his objection, therefore, the objector has conceded the case. In any act of challenging or denying the three axioms, a man reaffirms them, no matter what the particular content of his challenge. The axioms are invulnerable. (Ibid., p. 10)
Not only are the axioms invulnerable, they’re inescapable as well. As Porter points out:
Every philosopher must start somewhere, and wherever he starts, he must include the validity of these three axiomatic concepts [‘existence’, ‘consciousness’, ‘identity’] in his starting lineup. So wherever he claims to start, he really starts here. He has to; they’re axiomatic. (Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 209)
In his effort to find advice on how to respond to my points of criticism, David forwarded my objections to Christian blogger Dominic Bnonn Tennant, who posted his own thoughts in response to my criticism in his blog The Chronological Priority Objection revisited.

Tennant begins his response to my points of criticism with the following confession:
I must confess I don’t really understand Dawson’s argument.
Tennant opens his critique with the announcement that he doesn’t “really understand” my argument. Does this keep him from launching into a response of his own? No, unfortunately, it does not. He continues:
He seems to be assuming that any first principle which implicitly presupposes some other self-evident proposition must then defer to that prior proposition.
It is not clear to me what Tennant means here by “defer to that prior proposition.” One of my criticisms was that, if the statement proposed as a “first principle” in fact presupposes more fundamental truths, then for this reason alone it would not be a “first principle.” If it is conceded that the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” presupposes more fundamental truths, then obviously that statement itself could not be considered fundamental. It won’t do to begin our philosophizing in mid-stream. The call to identify one’s starting point is a call to identify one’s irreducible primary. Since the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” in fact rests on more fundamental assumptions, it is disqualified as an irreducible primary and therefore cannot be a “first principle.” It's simply not first logically.

My point (a) above recognizes that, if a statement logically presupposes the truth of prior affirmations, then clearly those prior affirmations would need to be true in order for the stated principle to hold, and those prior affirmations would be more fundamental to the principle in question. This should not be controversial. Consider: if a statement presupposes prior assumptions, and those prior assumptions turn out to be untrue, then the integrity of any supposed hierarchy involving those untrue assumptions would be fatally compromised internally.

It is important at this point to draw attention to the principle of reduction. The principle of reduction is a necessary component for any epistemological system which recognizes the fact that knowledge is hierarchical in nature, i.e., that some knowledge rests on and presupposes the truth of more fundamental knowledge, that there is a logical dependence of some truths on more fundamental truths. Leonard Peikoff explains the principle of reduction as follows:
Reduction is the means of connecting an advanced knowledge to reality by traveling backward through the hierarchical structure involved, i.e., in the reverse order of that required to reach the knowledge. “Reduction” is the process of identifying in logical sequence the intermediate steps that relate a cognitive item to perceptual data. Since there are options in the detail of a learning process, one need not always retrace the steps one initially happens to take. What one must retrace is the essential logical structure. (Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 133)
Peikoff makes it clear that reduction of knowledge found at the higher levels of the knowledge hierarchy is logically reducible to more fundamental knowledge. Note that Tennant seems concerned that chronological relations between items of knowledge are at the forefront of the criticism I offered in response to the notion that the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” can serve as one’s foundational principle. It is hard to see how one could intelligibly suppose that the statement “the Bible is the Word of God” could be either chronologically or logically fundamental, assuming no prior truths whatsoever, either in terms of logical dependence or in terms of discovery and learning processes. At any rate, Peikoff makes it clear that the principle of reduction is concerned with identifying and making explicit the “logical structure” of an item of knowledge.

It should also be borne in mind that propositions per se cannot be ultimately fundamental. As I explained in my blog Paul’s “Necessary Propositions”:
Propositions are not irreducible primaries. They are composed of concepts, and without concepts there would be no propositions. Concept-formation is a volitional process; nothing in reality forces us to undertake it. When we look out at the world, we see concrete entities, not "propositions." We form propositions to identify what we conceive, remember, project, etc., but only after we have formed concepts which identify the entities, attributes, actions, etc. Nothing forces us to do this, we do this because we choose to do this. If the content of any given proposition is valid concepts denoting data we have gathered from objects we have discovered (i.e., facts), and its purpose is to denote those facts, then that proposition would be describing fact(s). Must the proposition "existence exists" describe a fact? It does denote a basic fact, but not because the proposition itself "must" do so. It does because of a human epistemological need, a need which we have as a result of our desire for knowledge, and knowledge requires a starting point. The proposition itself has no needs of its own to satisfy, as if it were going to be starved if we do not feed it something, or as if it had the ability to condemn us to an eternity of torment unless we sacrifice burnt offerings to it.
The point is that legitimate knowledge of reality is reducible to the perceptual level of human cognition. As thinking adults who are accustomed all too often to taking for granted the more primitive processes by which we came to the knowledge we have (whether that knowledge is legitimate or not), we often ignore the fact that the knowledge enterprise begins, both chronologically and logically, at the perceptual level. A worthy epistemology, one which sufficiently identifies the process by which man acquires and validates his knowledge, needs to take this fact into account. We do not begin with propositions, either chronologically or logically. We begin by perceiving, and only then is there content for us to identify, and the process of identifying that content is by forming concepts which integrate what we perceive into economized units which subsequently can be used in assembling propositions. But before we can assemble those propositions, we need concepts to inform them, and in order to have concepts, we need to form them from what we perceive. So a proposition cannot be fundamental, either logically or chronologically.

Tennant writes:
This doesn’t seem different, in principle, to the oft-repeated objection leveled by empiricists: they will say that, since we Christians must first be able to read the Bible before we can formulate the proposition that it is the word of God, we are actually presupposing empiricism to be able to affirm revelational foundationalism.
It would be absurd to deny the fact that one has a lot of learning about the world to accomplish before he would be in a position to read and evaluate a vast tome like the bible. Clearly he would need to have the ability to correlate linguistic symbols to concepts, and this is not a fundamental or baseline ability. As adults we take this ability for granted because we do it everyday and have automatized the process. But this does not mean we can simply ignore the epistemological importance of that process.

Tennant:
Well, even if this were true, it remains that empiricism does not constitute a viable worldview.
Does Tennant realize that he’s critiquing the work of an Objectivist, not an empiricist?

Tennant:
Maybe it is true in itself
I take it that the “it” here refers to empiricism, which he says “does not constitute a viable worldview.”

Tennant:
(I don’t think it is since I deny that knowledge comes directly through the senses;
What exactly Tennant is denying here? Is he denying the thesis that we perceive knowledge directly? If this is what he means by “empiricism,” I would agree: we perceive objects, things that exist in the universe, e.g., trees, cars, fences, flag posts, mountains, people, ironing boards, books, telephone poles, etc. I would expect Tennant to agree here. In fact, to suppose that we perceive knowledge would commit the fallacy of the stolen concept.

Is he denying that perception plays any role in acquiring and validating knowledge? Again it’s not clear here. But I would expect that Tennant needs to perceive the print on the pages of his bible in order to read it and thus have knowledge of what it teaches. It’s not clear what he thinks his mind does after perceiving the symbols on a printed page though.

Tennant:
I draw a careful distinction between physical and non-physical events in terms of causation);
Here’s another position which Tennant affirms but does not explain, either what it is saying or its relevance to the topic at hand. Like many other theists I’ve encountered, he seems very concerned about being able to distinguish between “physical and non-physical events.” (I wonder if he has a similar concern for being able to distinguish between the real and the imaginary.) He says that he draws “a careful distinction between physical and non-physical events in terms of causation.” I wonder which view of causation he ascribes to. Since he wants to be careful to draw distinctions “between physical and non-physical events,” I suspect he may ascribe to the event-based theory of causation. Incidentally, it is this view of causation which helped lead David Hume to his skepticism about inductive thinking.

Tennant:
but it doesn’t provide us grounds for believing that it is true in itself, nor for believing pretty much anything. So, at best it is merely part of a larger body of truth, and must be incorporated into that body of truth by way of some overarching, governing principle (like the proposition “the Bible is the word of God”).
I’m guessing that Tennant is still talking about empiricism here. He seems to think it’s fine as a component within a larger worldview, but that the worldview itself needs “some overarching, governing principle,” perhaps to unify it within a cohesive system. He suggests that principle should be “the Bible is the word of God.” But why this statement, and not “The Wizard of Oz is the Blurb of Klaigh” or “Prahpubenjao is the Kwamlao of Geusha”? It seems that at this point, since one arbitrary statement can serve Tennant’s purposes, any other arbitrary statement can just as well. For that matter, why not begin with the proposition “Man breathes sulfuric acid”? On Tennant’s standard of what constitutes a viable starting point, what could possibly be wrong with any of the alternatives I mention here?

Of course, if a requirement of a founding principle be that it is “overarching” or all-encompassing, then the axiom of existence fits the bill perfectly. Since the concept ‘existence’ is the widest of all concepts, it includes everything which exists. You can’t get more all-encompassing than this. And because it includes everything which exists, no other concept could be more overarching than the concept ‘existence’. Moreover, unlike the bible or any other storybook, we never experience the absence of what the Objectivist axioms denote. Whether we’re in an automobile, an elevator, on the deck of a cruise ship, in our office cubicle, in a grocery store check-out line, or on a desert island, existence is everywhere. But bibles surely are not. As Porter rightly points out, “anybody can deny the validity of ‘God’, but nobody can deny the validity of ‘existence’.” (Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 176)

Think about it: How could “God” be broader than the concept ‘existence’? Even if one wants to allow for the existence of a god, he would certainly also need to allow that much more than just that god exists. Think of all the “billions and billions” (to quote Sagan) of things which exist right here in our universe. They exist, just as the theist supposes his god exists. So clearly the concept ‘existence’ is broader – incalculably broader – than said god. So on this basic and undeniable point, the axiom of existence is vastly more overarching than any god could hope to be, which could only mean that the Objectivist axioms provide for a more overarching foundation than theistic foundationalism could ever aspire to providing.

The theistic foundationalist is most likely going to find this alternative unsatisfactory, perhaps even unsettling. He may contend in response to this that his god existed first, that everything else which exists was created by it. After all, this is what his worldview teaches. Of course, this would require us to imagine something “prior to” the existence of the universe – what alternative to imagination do we have here? – even though imagination is not a means of confirming the existence of anything which exists independent of the human mind. It would also lead to the problem of divine lonesomeness, indicating an even more faulty starting point than the criticisms I’ve raised in this paper, thus multiplying theistic foundationalism’s liability against itself. And ironically, such a move would implicate the theist as the one vying for chronological priority, for at this point his intention is not to identify an objective starting point for knowledge (if for anything else, he shows that he needs to retreat into the imaginary at this point), but to defend a storybook view of the universe, something altogether different.

Perhaps what Tennant objects to is a conceptual starting point. Unfortunately, it seems he’s already ruled out the senses with his pronouncements about empiricism. So what is left? To be meaningful, the proposition “the Bible is the Word of God” would need to be comprised of concepts, so he seems rather stuck here.

Tennant:
The same is true of the proposition “existence exists”. That’s a pretty bally meaningless first principle.
I’m reminded of Porter when he observes:
Philosophers denigrate tautologies. “Existence exists” tells them nothing they don’t already know.... And especially nothing they enjoy being reminded of... “Consciousness is conscious” is especially insensitive, threatening to expose the dirty little secret of almost every philosopher since Aristotle... They can only hope it’s meaningless. (Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 229)
They may say that the axioms don’t tell them anything “new.” But the task of a starting point is not to identify new knowledge, but to secure the old knowledge we already have. Stating one’s most fundamental assumptions explicitly “puts them in jeopardy of being found false. That’s why the resistance. But you’re guiding your life by them; if they’re not true, you need to know it. Now.” (Ibid., p. 238)

How do the Objectivist axioms satisfy this?
Awareness of axiomatic facts is what’s needed. That’s implicit in all knowledge. But awareness that’s only implicit is easily bypassed by a slick salesman or a philosopher’s argument. Axiomatic concepts recognize axiomatic facts explicitly. They’re guardians of thought because they’re active reminders of the absolutism of reality. (Ibid., p. 236)
It does not surprise me, then, when theists resist the Objectivist axioms, because an absolute reality is precisely what stands in the way of their mystical imaginations.

So Tennant declares that “existence exists” is meaningless. But why? Is he saying that the concept ‘existence’ is meaningless? Or, is he saying that statements which affirm that something exists are meaningless? Meaning is a property of concepts, and the concept ‘existence’ does in fact have a meaning. Theists assume it has meaning all the time when they claim their god exists. So I don’t think it will do to object to the axiom of existence by calling it “meaningless,” for it is clearly meaningful, and even Tennant should agree with this since later in his paper he lists it as a statement which is “obviously true.” I wouldn’t expect that Tennant would consider a statement “obviously true” and at the same time “meaningless.” But maybe I’m wrong on this?

Perhaps what Tennant doesn’t like is the proposal of ‘existence exists’ as a first principle. He gives no argument for rejecting the axiom of existence as a first principle. Instead he simply asks:
What useful propositions can be deduced from it without relying on unjustified subjective beliefs or perceptions?
Apparently Tennant is concerned most with “useful propositions,” and/or how such propositions “can be deduced from” one’s founding principle. My first questions in response to this would be, how is the proposition “the Bible is the Word of God” at all useful? To whom would such a proposition be “useful”? In what way would such a proposition be “useful” to anyone? Naturally, on Tennant’s criteria, one would expect the founding proposition from which subsequent propositions were derived be at least as useful as the ones derived from it. So Tennant’s qualification of “usefulness” needs to be explained, and the criteria by which such qualification can be measured need to be identified.

Even more fundamental than these questions would be my point that Tennant’s question itself misconstrues the role of an axiom within a philosophical system as Objectivism understands it. Tennant’s question betrays a common misunderstanding about philosophical axioms, a misunderstanding rooted in rationalism. Objectivism rightly characterizes rationalism as ‘deduction without reference to reality’ (A. Thorn, Observations). Rationalism is the other horn to the rationalist-empiricist dichotomy:
[Philosophers came to be divided] into two camps: those who claimed that man obtains his knowledge of the world by deducing it exclusively from concepts, which come from inside his head and are not derived from the perception of physical facts (the Rationalists)—and those who claimed that man obtains his knowledge from experience, which was held to mean: by direct perception of immediate facts, with no recourse to concepts (the Empiricists). (Rand, For the New Intellectual, p. 30)
Where rationalism would expect a philosophical system to be derived exclusively by deduction from an axiom or set of axiom, Objectivism repudiates this expectation by recognizing that an objective, conceptually irreducible starting point has a different task.
Traditional axioms stated initial assumptions about relations among their terms. A one-term axiom... provides no such assumptions. Except one: the implied validity of that term, the existence of its denotation. Imagine Euclidean geometry starting out, “Points exist, lines exist, planes exist....” They’re true, but nobody today thinks axioms identify truths. Or that any truths could be fundamental or self-evident; these are. But what could we deduce from them? Nothing. Ayn Rand’s theory is axiomatic but it’s not deduced from its axioms. They have another job. They distinguish knowledge from its objects, awareness from existence. (Porter, Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 203)
Similarly Ron Merrill observes:
...unlike mathematical postulates, philosophical axioms should not be expected to be "fertile," that is, capable of generating a body of knowledge by deduction... It is clear that Objectivism does not aim at developing philosophy as a system of deductive implications from its axioms, in the manner of the rationalists. For Rand, the purpose of axioms is to ground the knowledge gained by the senses, not to replace it. (Axioms: The Eight-fold Way)
Not even Objectivists claim that their worldview is deduced from the axioms. The axioms are not a substitute for further discovery of the world. That’s because Objectivism is a reality-based worldview: we get our understanding of the world and how our minds function from inputs we gather from reality, for reality (as opposed to internal musings over emotions such as fear, or some ancient storybook) is the ultimate source of knowledge. As I pointed out to one Christian critic of the axioms:
Objectivism nowhere proposes that the mind stops with any one of these recognitions, or that the axioms serve as a substitute for further knowledge that we may acquire about the world. On the contrary, they provide an anchor for knowledge, a foundation upon which to build our knowledge, not an escape from knowledge... Together the axioms of existence, identity and consciousness set the stage that subsequent knowledge requires by identifying the constants which apply throughout all knowledge and providing the mind with an explicit recognition of the fact that there is a fundamental distinction between what is perceived and the action of perceiving it, between what is known and the process by which it is known, between the object of cognition and the subject of cognition. (The Axioms and the Primacy of Existence)
So Tennant’s question tendentiously misconstrues the role of an axiom within a philosophical system. The purpose of an axiom is to ground man’s cognition by identifying the fundamental connection between reality and his knowledge, and recognizing the inalterable distinction between the two at the same time. Its purpose is not to serve as a wellspring for deductions. Indeed, our knowledge begins with the axiom of existence, it does not stop with it. To learn more about reality, we have to study it, to examine its particulars, to discover its processes. There is no substitute for this.

Tennant:
Of course, a Christian certainly believes that existence exists.
Of course he does; he needs to. But he takes it completely for granted, and never stops to recognize the relationship between existence and consciousness explicitly. Identifying the terms of this relationship explicitly is death to Christianity. So to play it safe, it is left implicit, ignored, out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately for the Christian, ignoring a fact will not make it go away. It is because his worldview is at odds with the axioms, particularly in the case of the primacy of existence, that it falters from the very get-go; it does because of this system-wide carelessness which cannot outrun facts which are implicit in all knowledge. On that note, I would think that anyone would recognize the truth of the axiom of existence, since it is so obviously true. But believe it or not I have encountered some individuals who have openly denied it. They have always been Christians.

Tennant:
He incorporates this into his worldview by way of his governing principle.
Actually, in the case of the Christian, he smuggles it, and does a poor job of it, for he never acquires an explicit recognition of the proper relationship between subject and object, between knowledge and the objects it denotes, ever risking the hazard of confusing the two. Confusing the roles of subject and object is essential to the Christian worldview; there’s no Christianity without this confusion. So Christians don’t dare come to terms with axiomatic facts explicitly. The excuse they give is that this is “uninteresting,” that it does not tell them anything “new,” that they’re so obviously true that no one in their right mind would waste their time with them. These are the kinds of excuses they give when they’re called on it. But the real reason they prefer to leave them implicit is because they’re dynamite, and they don’t know how to handle dynamite properly. This is why detection of stolen concepts can be so lethal to worldviews like Christianity. As Porter points out:
The Stolen Concept is the arch-transcendental argument, a universal refutation of any philosophy which denies that we can know reality as it is. That’s a terrible weapon in the hands of just one school of philosophy. (Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 176)
Tennant:
In fact, from this first principle, he is able to discover a far more sublime and useful variant on that proposition, as revealed in Exodus 3:14: “I AM WHO I AM”.
Really? How does he discover this without reading it in the bible? Or, is he, like the rationalists, looking to deduce his entire worldview from his starting point, rather than looking to reality to provide inputs which guide the development of his knowledge? And why suppose that Exodus is talking about something real instead of imaginary, especially when imagination is the only means open to us for conceiving of what it’s talking about?

Tennant:
That is necessarily presupposed in the proposition “the Bible is the word of God”.
See, I was right: the statement “the Bible is the word of God” makes numerous prior assumptions. Therefore, it is not fundamental. It is not a starting point. The Christian who affirms the statement “the Bible is the word of God” as his starting point, is simply hiding something. Indeed, he’s hiding a lot!

Tennant:
But it is not in itself useful for building a framework of epistemology, metaphysics, and ethics.
What isn’t “useful,” the axiom of existence? Sure it’s useful. And indispensably so. Try denying its truth, and see how intelligible statements about reality can be without it. What use would statements about reality be if reality did not exist? Blank out. The axiom of existence is the very cornerstone of the hierarchy of man’s knowledge. Its truth is perceptually self-evident, it is conceptually irreducible, it is all-encompassing, all-integrating, implicit in all knowledge, and serves as the only objective foundation in cognition in terms of recognizing the proper orientation of the subject-object relationship. Without this, one risks the inability to reliably distinguish between reality and imagination. But that’s why Christians prefer to go without it.

Tennant:
That is why we take the whole Bible as our starting point; not merely some proposition therein.
If a proposition like “the Bible is the Word of God” assumes prior knowledge, including more fundamental concepts, how much more would “the whole Bible” do the same? And why the bible, and not some other source, such as the Upanishads, The Iliad, or the Gintu Kwamlao? If one were to prefer one of these sources over the others as one’s ultimate starting point, how could it not be the result of utterly arbitrary choosing? A rationally guided choice at this point would not be possible, since we’re talking about starting point; rational guidance is possible only after one has acquired a fair degree of knowledge, and we’re talking about a step which logically precedes this. Regardless, the bible, either whole or in part, cannot be a philosophical starting point for the very reasons I have already cited. It is not conceptually irreducible, its truth is not perceptually self-evident, it is not all-encompassing, its content isn’t even all true – vast portions of it are merely legends, tales and sometimes even lies. Moreover, much of it can only be meaningful in the confines of the believer’s imagination, since much of what he reads in the bible are stories which allegedly took place in the ancient past. We don’t perceive Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses or Jesus, but we can imagine them as we read the stories about them found in the bible. In fact, it is because of this that the bible owes is persisting success as sacred literature to its ability to enthrall the believer at the level of his imagination, which is certainly not axiomatic, and strike him with paralyzing fear. As Prov. 1:7 makes very clear, the believer’s fear of his god is the “starting point” of his knowledge. This clearly puts emotion as the believer’s starting point, which can only indicate that his worldview’s starting point is subjective in nature. Without an objective starting point, irrational fears tend to be taken seriously. This is precisely what Van Til’s autobiographical sketch of his own conversion experience illustrates. See for example my blog Faith as Hope in the Imaginary.

Christians want to take the “the whole Bible” as their starting point, not because it is truly fundamental to knowledge, but because they know that its contents cannot be validated without giving it such an advantageous head start. If one begins with a genuine objective starting point, such as the Objectivist axioms, he would know early on in the development of his knowledge of reality that primitive (i.e., pre-rational, pre-scientific) literature like the stories found in the bible have no value as philosophical principles.

Tennant:
We need far more than an existential affirmation to build a worldview.
This is true, and Objectivism nowhere suggests that we can simply rest our heels once we’ve recognized the facts which the axioms identify. Indeed, we need a constant supply of objective inputs as well as a process for properly identifying those inputs and integrating them into our summary knowledge of reality. But that’s why an axiomatic system should never attempt to deduce all its knowledge from a foundational statement. Just as we would never learn the atomic weight of copper from the axiom ‘existence exists’, we would never learn about photosynthesis by reading the Psalms or the gospel of Luke. We need to be in constant touch with existence to learn about it. Reality is full of specifics; no one will acquire knowledge of those specifics simply by acknowledging that reality is primary, and Objectivism never contends that we will. But explicitly acknowledging that reality is primary in relation to consciousness of it is non-negotiable when it comes to grounding our cognition, for distinguishing between the objects of knowledge and the processes by which that knowledge is acquired and validated. The statement “the Bible is the Word of God” does not accomplish this.

Tennant:
We need a great deal of information about existence: including its origin, its essential nature, and our relationship to it.
Yes, we do need a great deal of information about existence, at least for our own specific purposes, which determine our needs for knowledge of existence. So what is the source of that information, if not existence itself? That’s the Objectivist’s starting point: Existence! Again, we are not going to learn about photosynthesis by consulting the bible. On the contrary, we are constantly referring back to existence, in fact never losing touch with it, since it is our starting point. Recognition that existence holds metaphysical primacy over consciousness means that the knowledge of reality will always be able to be validated by reference to reality. This of course requires an unshakable commitment to reality, which in turn requires an unshakable commitment to the recognition that there is a fundamental distinction between the objects we know and our knowledge of those objects. “We all distinguish implicitly between independent existence and our means of awareness” (Porter, p. 216). This is the fundamental causal fact behind any attempt to provide the mind with a guide to cognition. But because this distinction typically remains implicit, it is typically never very well understood. That is why we need the axioms: to isolate this distinction explicitly so that its implications for cognition, knowledge and philosophy can be consciously (even self-consciously) understood. If you saw a man repeatedly smacking his body against a brick wall, and cursing at the wall between self-propelled impacts against it, demanding it to move out of his way, and continuing such a sequence of actions without avail, would you suppose that he simply needs to read some chapter in Jeremiah or the Book of Revelation in order ot remedy his futile efforts? Probably not. On the contrary, he needs to grasp the primacy of existence principle. Most people do so implicitly, at least in the context of their actions in the world (be it tying his shoes, balancing his checkbook, filling his car with gasoline, walking across a street, etc.), that’s why we don’t see them making such obvious blunders. But we see comparable blunders in philosophy all the time because the primacy of existence has not been understood explicitly. Indeed, if one seeks to guide his worldview seriously by consulting the contents of a storybook like the bible, he may very well expect the walls to obey his commandments. “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phil. 4:13).

Tennant raises the notion of an “origin” of existence. Let’s think about this for a moment. Apparently he thinks existence has an origin, presumably in something other than existence (otherwise it would be pretty unproductive to say that existence finds its origin in existence). That would be quite an admission, for as a Christian he most likely would want to say that existence has its origin in the Christian god. But that would mean that the Christian god, as the origin of existence, would have to be something other than existence, otherwise we’re just point to existence all over again, for which we’re trying to find an origin. Such a procedure is as unproductive as a dog chasing its own tail. Indeed, it strikes me as a tacit acknowledgement that his god really doesn’t exist.

As for our relationship to existence, this is described by the principle of the primacy of existence, which is the explicit recognition of the fact that objects of consciousness exist and are what they are independent of the processes by which we are aware of them.

Tennant:
And that is information which can only truthfully and certainly be gleaned from the revelation of God.
I wonder where we can learn about photosynthesis in the bible.

Tennant:
It sounds like Dawson wants to require of you that you take only self-evident or properly basic propositions as foundational.
Well, for whatever basic affirmation we identify as our foundational principle, we need to address certain basic questions, such as: What is it identifying? How do we have awareness of what it is identifying? Is it true? Does it stand on prior assumptions? Is it all-encompassing? Etc.

If it is acknowledged that a proposed starting point in fact rests on the truth of prior assumptions, then it needs to be acknowledged that what has been proposed as a starting point is in fact not fundamental, and its defenders need to keep digging, reducing their claims to their most basic fundamentals, until the bedrock of cognition has finally been reached. If he rises to this challenge and sticks with it honestly, he’ll find us, the Objectivists, waiting for him at the end. We’ve already been there.

Tennant:
I suspect that traditional foundationalism might require this, though I haven’t a clue why (I haven’t read widely on it I’m afraid).
It seems pretty easy to figure out to me. If a proposed starting point or foundational truth is not self-evident, i.e., readily available to the mind at the fundamental level of cognition, then something else would be, and that something else would have the advantage of epistemological priority over the one proposed. If it is not self-evident, then it needs to be argued for. Therefore, you need premises. Those premises, if in fact they support the proposed starting point that is not self-evidently true, would be more fundamental than the proposed starting point itself. An inferred position rests on prior inference, and that inference needs content. What is that content, and where did you get it? How do you know whether or not it’s true? An attempt to start with something like “the Bible is the Word of God” only indicates an attempt to evade these more fundamental questions.

Tennant:
I can’t see any non-arbitrary reason for this stipulation;
Tennant’s failure to see is not an argument, and his characterization of our need for a conceptually irreducible starting point as a “stipulation” is unwarranted.

Tennant:
and it’s also obviously self-refuting since no such proposition (or combination thereof) can be used to deduce enough of a worldview to justify the stipulation itself. Remember that first principles must contain enough information to deduce themselves and their context, as well as the rest of the worldview.
Says who? Again, a philosophical axiom is not a deductive starting point, but a philosophical starting point. Deduction comes later, and as I explained above, it will require a ready source of inputs. We get our inputs from what we identified as our starting point (i.e., from existence), not from our identification of that starting point. Fact-gathering never seizes when one seeks to learn about existence, and there’s a fundamental distinction between the real and the imaginary. A worldview which fails to grasp the primacy of existence explicitly can easily and probably will fall prey to a blurring of this distinction, which would in turn only compromise any effort one makes in remaining objective.

Tennant:
The whole point of them is to bootstrap our grounds for knowledge. So not only is there no good reason to require first principles to be self-evident or properly basic, but there is very good reason to require that they not be.
If “the whole point of [first principles] is to bootstrap our grounds for knowledge,” why not start where our awareness starts, with perception of objects existing independent of our awareness? That’s where we have to start. To make good on his protestations against this view, the objective view (objective because it recognizes the primacy of objects over the subject of awareness), Tennant would have to explain how we can have direct awareness of that which is not self-evident, for otherwise he offers no alternative to inferring his way to them, and as I pointed out above, inference requires content, and that content would have to be more fundamental than any product of inference.

Tennant:
An even better reason can also be given: we can trivially show that the only sure justification for knowledge in toto must be based on the revelation of a personal God, because without this we are forced to ground universals in our particular experience. This is formally fallacious, and thus useless for justifying anything. We can therefore exclude any other kind of proposition as a useful foundation for an entire worldview—so on what basis is he making the sorts of claims you quote him making? (Cf The Wisdom of God, 2.4 & 2.5.)
Why does Tennant think that “ground[ing] universals in our particular experience” is formally fallacious? He does not explain in his blog entry; perhaps he explains this in the source which he cites. At any rate, I have seen this kind of argument many times before. It often seeks to argue that an omniscient mind is needed for universal knowledge to be possible. And since man is not omniscient, any universal knowledge man claims to have must be knowledge that has been “revealed” to him by a supernatural source. Here is an argument which Tennant himself presents:
Our experience of reality is particular, whereas objective knowledge must—by definition—be universal. Since we are not universal, we can never make any claim to universal or objective knowledge about reality by appealing to our own experiences or perceptions. To do so would be to commit the fallacy of induction: by reasoning from the specific to the general, without due warrant. In other words, if we are to know a universal and objective truth, we must derive it from a universal and objective source. If we go by what we perceive, then we are by definition appealing to a particular and subjective source instead; and so to assume that, because it is true in one instance, it is therefore true in all, is quite unjustified. (The Wisdom of God, p. 36)
It is true that our experience is particular, and that our knowledge – at least some of it – has a universal nature about it. But is it true that universal knowledge cannot be derived from the inputs of our particular experience? Many philosophers throughout history have agreed with some variant of the kind of thinking on this issue which Tennant models here. Indeed, how could an individual acquire knowledge of all men based upon the tiny sample of men whom he has actually met and observed firsthand? The theistic solution to this problem may seem, at least to those who grant the notion of ”the supernatural” some initial validity, an elegant way of tidying the matter up.

The problem with this approach, however, is that it fails to grasp the facts that knowledge is conceptual, and that universality is a quality belonging to concepts, not of the knower himself. This much we can be certain of: human beings do possess universal knowledge, and the form in which they possess their knowledge is conceptual in nature. But the nature of concepts is what is ignored by the kind of approach Tennant presents. For those who are taken in by argument’s such as Tennant’s, universality is mysterious, enigmatic, unknowable to the unaided human mind (since on this view, man’s mind is ultimately incompetent, hence the need for a supernatural helping hand). But in fact, universality is no mystery at all. It is, in fact, nothing more than the open-endedness of a concept’s scope of reference, and this is a result of the abstraction process, specifically the process of measurement-omission, which the human mind performs on the basis of perceptual inputs. It is through this process that a man can isolate two objects which he perceives or has perceived, integrate them into a mental unit, and assign a visual-auditory symbol to represent that mental unit, e.g., ‘ball’.

In fact, it is because man is not omniscient that concepts are so useful to him, since concepts condense an enormous sum of information, a sum which always has the potential to increase as a result of new discoveries about objects which his concepts subsume, thus making it possible for him to treat an unlimited quantity of units as a single unit. An omniscient being wouldn’t need such a tool; indeed, it would only get in its way. This is one of the major points I defended in my article Would an Omniscient Mind Have Knowledge in Conceptual Form? In that article I explain my negative answer to this question.

But theists, lost in their efforts to establish an objective basis to their knowledge claims not only because they lack an objective theory of concepts, but also because their claims have a subjective basis, are still eager to appeal to revelation and seek to explain human knowledge as a result of revelation. It’s baffling how one could seriously take such an approach to knowledge, but it’s quite common in some circles even today. But how does it purportedly work? Take fore example the fact that copper melts at 1984 F. Every mint which produces copper coins and every factory which produces copper tubing, needs to integrate this fact into its processes in order to work with it. Indeed, this is adherence to the primacy of existence: obedience to the nature of the objects of knowledge. Now the question before us in the present discussion is: Is this fact something that was revealed to us from a supernatural source? The bible surely does not tell us that copper melts at 1984 F, does it? If so, I’d like to see where. If it’s not in the bible, does revelation disguise itself to look at feel like an active knowledge-gathering process which men perform by their own effort, such as observation, experimentation and scientific validation? If so, how do we know that it’s revelation giving us knowledge and not us producing knowledge for ourselves according to an objective process, since we’re doing all the work, sometimes encountering error, sometimes never reaching reliable conclusions? Revelation is supposed to be infallible (is it not?), while human actions are admittedly fallible (that’s why we need an objective process in the first place). The appeal to revelation is extremely dubious, and since man is capable of rational inquiry and applying the scientific method, why would revelation even be needed? Blank out.

Tennant concluded with the following remarks:
To summarize, I think Dawson is confusing the chronological priority of propositions (what must be true to even formulate the biblical worldview?) with logical priority (how do we logically justify these chronologically prior propositions?) The whole point of revelational foundationalism is that there are a lot of things which are obviously true (”existence exists”; “an external world exists”; “events we perceive are correlated to events in the external world”; etc), but which we cannot rationally justify or give account for without reference to God’s objective revelation. Revelational foundationalism works backward by first assuming these truths, so as to find justification for them; then justifying them with reference to Scripture.
Much of this has already been addressed by the points I raised above. But for my readers’ benefit I will simply restate my original response to this when David Parker had quoted just this portion from Tennant’s article in the comments section of my blog Another Response to David, Part 7: The Anatomy of Legend and the Ruse of Revelation:
First he seeks to dichotomize the role of a starting point by splitting it into two types: chronological and logical. He does this in order to show that I have confused these types, when in fact he nowhere shows that I have (he simply asserts that I have and provides no support for this). In fact, the axiom ‘existence exists’ satisfies both, because this recognition comes first both in our apprehension of reality (i.e., chronologically) as well as in the hierarchy of knowledge which we develop in our understanding of reality (i.e., logically). Since the axiom of existence satisfies a genuine *conceptual* need which we all have, there is no confusion here. Not on my part anyway. A philosophical starting point needs to identify the most fundamental of all truths, and this need requires it to be conceptually irreducible. As I pointed out in an earlier comment, the concept ‘existence’ is not defined in terms of prior concepts. If one supposes that it could be defined in terms of prior concepts, to what would those concepts refer, if not to things which exist? If they refer to things which exist, then clearly they assume the truth of the axiom of existence already, even if only implicitly, and make use of the concept they’re trying to define. That would lead to an infinite regress, which the axiom of existence avoids. If those concepts purported to define the concept ‘existence’ do not refer to things which exist, what good are they, and why would we have them in the first place? Blank out. A starting point also needs to identify a fact which is perceptually self-evident, for this is where our awareness of reality begins, with perception. It would not do to affirm a starting point which seeks to jump ahead of where our awareness begins, because this would treat a later recognition (or imagination) as being more fundamental than what we are first aware of. So both types of priority which your friend introduces are thus satisfied in one basic recognition, a recognition which would have to be true for anything else to be accepted as true.

The notion of ‘revelation’ is certainly not conceptually irreducible. The test for this is to ask whether or not it can be defined, and if so, how is it defined? One of my bible dictionaries does give this term a definition: “a term expressive of the fact that God has made known to men truths and realities that men could not discover for themselves.” Notice all the assumptions packed into this one idea. It is clearly not fundamental, for it stands on a whole host of prior assumptions. It fails the conceptual irreducibility test. Also, given this definition (and I’ve seen others which essentially say the same thing), it clearly cannot pass the perceptually self-evident test, for it stipulates by definition that whatever “truths and realities” are known through revelation are “truths and realities that men could not discover for themselves,” while perception gives man direct awareness of objects which exist.

Notice also that your friend realizes that “revelational foundationalism works backward.” It has no choice but to do this, because it begins with a large assortment of assumptions, bundles them into an enormous package-deal, and accepts that package-deal as a non-negotiable, and then “works backward” from there in order “to find justification for them.” The purpose of identifying one’s starting point is to cut past assumptions which we take for granted so that we can understand what is truly fundamental and determine whether or not those assumptions are in fact rationally grounded. A “revelational foundationalism” has its priorities completely reversed, since it does not want to concede any assumptions, but rather wants to hang onto them and find ways of justifying them. This is why it is so fruitful, from an atheological standpoint, to ask a theist to name is starting point. Whatever he offers is most likely going to fail the fundamentality tests. See also these essays: TAG and the Fallacy of the Stolen Concept and Is the Assumption of the Chrisitan God Axiomatic? Also, the notion of ‘revelation’ defies the very concept of objectivity, since the appeal to revelation is used in cases where purported “knowledge” has no actual tie to reality. The above definition for ‘revelation’ given in my bible dictionary confirms this. It is the attempt to accept as knowledge ideational content which has not been epistemologically earned, and is thus another expression of the theist’s desire for the unearned. It is because theistic assertions are in fact objectively baseless, that theists need to resort to appeals to revelation in order to safeguard them. Of course, any set of arbitrary claims could be “justified” by appealing to an invisible magic being which allegedly “revealed” them to a privileged clique of mystics.
In closing, let me say a few final points. Many theistic apologists are naturally going to want to affirm the existence of the god they worship in their starting point. They do this because they realize at some level of thought that their efforts to prove its existence are doomed to futility. So they claim that their god is “presupposed.” And even though they need to make use of the truth of the Objectivist axioms in any foundational statement they affirm, they prefer to leave these truths implicit, dismissing the practice of making them explicit as preposterous, uninteresting, or even degrading in some way. But clearly, as I have shown, there is no contest between so-called “theistic foundationalism” and the Objectivist axioms. Theistic foundationalism is not and cannot be fundamental: for one thing, the notion of a god is deniable (while the fact of existence is not), it is not perceptually self-evident (while existence is), and is not an irreducible primary (while existence is). Also, as its own proponents typically admit themselves, what theistic foundationalism takes as its “first principle” rests on a plethora of prior assumptions, which can only mean it is not a baseline recognition or irreducible affirmation. Indeed, those prior assumptions all come as part of an enormous package, expected to be taken completely for granted, leaving them implicit, unexamined and unsupported. This can only raise the suspicion that a whole host of unstated presuppositions are being smuggled into one’s worldview at the ground level. If those presuppositions were legitimately defensible, such a move would not be needed. And lastly, if we are expected to suppose that theistic foundationalism is valid, why should we also not suppose that Thoran foundationalism, Geushan foundationalism, Quetzlcoatlan foundationalism, Horus foundationalism, etc., are also valid? If we accept one arbitrary position, why can’t we accept an alternative, equally arbitrary position? Theistic foundationalism can offer no good reason why we shouldn’t if we haven’t already accepted it.

by Dawson Bethrick

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Paul's Ignorance of the Earthly Jesus, Part 3: Claims 8-14

I now continue with the conclusion of my examination of David's rejoinders to my points in response to the citations from Paul's letters alleged to have come from knowledge he supposedly had of the earthly Jesus. (Whew!)

Claim #8:

Paul refers to Peter by the name Cephas (rock), which was the name Jesus gave to him. (1 Cor. 3:22)

I responded:

Paul tells us that he had a very involved conflict with Peter, but he never tells us that Jesus gave Peter this name. This is not even hinted at in anything Paul says about Peter. In fact, Paul nowhere indicates that Peter was a traveling companion of Jesus on earth before the crucifixion. Later writers were probably perplexed by the use of two names for Peter, and explained it by having the Jesus of their narratives give the name Cephas to Peter in an exchange which is nowhere given in Paul.

David’s rejoinder:

Interesting speculation, but my only question is how would one conclude that Peter/Cephas were the same person going from source material alone with no historical backbone?

First of all, notice that David has not challenged these points from my statement above:

1. Paul tells us that he had a very involved conflict with Peter, but he never tells us that Jesus gave Peter this name.

2. This is not even hinted at in anything Paul says about Peter.

3. In fact, Paul nowhere indicates that Peter was a traveling companion of Jesus on earth before the crucifixion.

Were David to challenge these, I would expect to see statements drawn from Paul’s authentic letters which contradict them.

Second, since the question is what knowledge Paul had of the earthly Jesus, Paul’s reference to Peter as Cephas does not qualify, precisely because Paul never suggests anything like what we read in John 1:42, where the evangelist has Jesus bestow Peter with the name ‘Cephas’.

Also, my proposal is certainly not farfetched, since, as I have shown, Paul does not explain his use of two names. Also, the backbone identifying Peter with Cephas need not have been historical so much as linguistic, since both words in their respective languages mean the same thing: in Aramaic, ‘cephas’ means ‘rock’, and in Greek, ‘petros’ is the masculine equivalent of ‘petra’, which means ‘rock’. Later writers could easily have taken this transliteration and constructed a story from it: Jesus dubbed Peter with the name ‘Cephas’ to emphasize his imperturbable faith. But at that point we have fiction, not history.

Claim #9:

Jesus had a brother named James. (Galations 1:19)

I responded:

We've already beaten this horse to death. Paul never gives a brother to Jesus - that is, a biological sibling to the earthly, pre-crucifixion Jesus. Paul is clear in reference James as "the brother of the Lord," which title signifies the post-resurrection Jesus. James, it was seen, was referred to as one of the "pillars" of the church by Paul. It is most probable then that Paul is referring to James with a fraternity title, similar to the one he uses for an unspecified number of persons in I Cor. 9:5, where he states: "Have we no right to lead about a wife that is a believer, even as the rest of the apostles, and the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas?" Here Paul is obviously referencing the upper echelon of the Christianity of his day. It would be hard to suppose that Paul is referring to a group of biological siblings of Jesus here. Instead, he's speaking of an inner circle group, who were obviously held in high regard. The assumption that Paul is referring to a biological relationship is generated by reading the gospel details into Paul's letters, when in fact Paul's letters in no way confirm this reading.

David’s rejoinder:

What we’ve seen is you have no argument for your interpretation. Not one of your points has passed the bar. All the citations you quoted were unsupported assertions or admitted speculation, and reference to “extant texts” which you have failed to provide information about. No I’d say the horse has been beaten to death alright but you seem to be confused about who’s holding the stick.

What argument has David provided for supposing that Paul meant a biological sibling when he refers to James as "the brother of the Lord"? He's provided none. All he can do is appeal to the gospels. But I've already explained why this is at best shaky. It's a dead horse because I've already pointed to both motive and opportunity for later writers to exploit what is likely a fraternal title to the end of giving Jesus a biological sibling in their concoction of a historical narrative.

David wrote:

All you said about the external sources is basically “well they were just propounding the legend from the Gospels, so we can’t trust them either."

David is frustrated because he resents my view that the gospels are legends. This is why he feels the need to cast it in simplistic terms.

David wrote:

I have already told you that 1 Cor 9:5 is also addressing the same group of literal brothers mentioned in the Gospel.

Specifically what in 1 Cor. 9:5 suggests that Paul has "literal brothers" (i.e., biological siblings) in mind? David simply asserts that it must mean this, but clearly he's assuming the truth of the gospels at this point and artificially reading them into Paul’s epistle. But the truth of the gospel stories is what's in question.

David wrote:

I guess they misunderstood that one too, and figured it would make for good fiction.

It's certainly possible that they misunderstood it. And it is clear that they (the gospel writers) did not view their own work as historical chronicles, but as storybook narratives intended to concretize theological notions which they expected readers to accept as truth.

David wrote:

You said “It would be hard to suppose that Paul is referring to a group of biological siblings of Jesus here.” To which I simply respond that, “It would be hard to suppose that Paul is referring to a group of highly regarded inner circle members (of which Cephas is excluded)."

Why? Paul calls non-biologically related persons ‘brother’ all the time in his letters. The term ‘brother’ was commonly used by Paul and other early Christians to designate fellow believers, and such use carried no implication of a biological relationship. Is it hard to suppose that the "500 brethren" whom Paul mentions in I Cor. 15 were not biological siblings? If not, why would it be hard to suppose that Paul has no sibling relationship in mind when he mentions "the brethren of the Lord" in I Cor. 9:5? Moreover, his statements in Galatians clearly indicate that there was an inner core of leadership within the Jerusalem church. So all the factors for the interpretation I believe is most reasonable from the text are there, while all David can do is assert his view in the interest of protecting literalist Christian dogma. He gives no support for his preferred interpretation.

David wrote:

The assumption that Paul is not referring to a biological relationship is generated ad-hoc in support of the legend theory’s interpretation of Paul’s letters, when in fact Paul’s letters in no way confirm this reading nor does any external source throughout the first 1700+ years of Christianity”

Here David is projecting: since he begins with a grand conclusion (e.g., the gospel portraits of Jesus are historically accurate) and works backwards from this as his guiding assumption, he figures everyone else operates the same way, which in fact is not the case.

Claim #10:

Jesus initiated the Lord's supper and referred to the bread and the cup. (1 Cor. 11:23-25)

I responded:

As I asked before, when does Paul say this happened? Where? Under what circumstances? Who attended this event? Paul doesn't give any details. Later writers came along and supplied them. Paul gave the primitive rudiments, indicating no time, place or historical setting. In fact, I don't even find any indication that Paul is associating "the Lord's supper" with the Passover. It would be temptingly easy for later writers to take what Paul writes here and redress it in a narrative situation that seemed historical, but is essentially just a piece of fiction.

David’s rejoinder:

Ignoring the usual tiresome questioning ploys, and your repetitive bald assertions about later writers supplying details (I think you include this in every response to the bullet list, as if reasserting you point provides further argumentation)….uhh oh wait that’s all there is. :P

Of course, one way to keep oneself from facing problems is to ignore questions which draw our attention to them. As for later writers supplying details to the kind of bare threadwork that Paul reports, how is noting this progression from lack of details (no time, place or circumstances in the case of Paul’s crucifixion, resurrection, supper scene) in Paul’s letters, to full-fledged biographical narratives in later writers a case of “repetitive bald assertions”? What would keep later writers from taking motifs from earlier traditions which had no ties to specific historical settings, and grafting them into constructed narratives of Jesus’ earthly life? Yes, I expect a serious answer to this question.

Claim #11:

Jesus' death was related to the Passover Celebration. (1 Cor. 5:7)

I responded:

Is Paul saying that Jesus was crucified around the Passover holiday? I don't get that from this. This is Pauline symbolism, derived from his Jewish roots, and later writers took references like this and assembled them into their narrative. Again, it would be temptingly easy for them to do this.

David’s rejoinder:

See Mk 14:12 and Lu 22:7

This is unhelpful for the literalist view, since it is already agreed that the gospels put Jesus’ crucifixion on the occasion of the Passover. Let’s go back to Paul and take a look at what I Cor. 5:7 states. It states:

Purge out therefore the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are unleavened. For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us.

Note how Paul is here equating Christ with “our passover,” which is clearly symbolic. He is certainly not saying that Jesus’ crucifixion took place on the occasion of the Passover festival. I do not see that being stated here, and I’d like to see how one can derive this from what Paul says here. “Many commentators,” Wells points out (The Jesus Myth, p. 71), “(for instance Ruef [Paul’s First Letter to Corinth], p. 42 ad loc.) agree that all this has nothing to do with the date of the crucifixion or the Last Supper: the identification of the death with the Passover is ‘first and foremost theological and is not dependent on chronology’.” Paul is giving us theological symbolism here; he is not referring to an historic event.

Claim #12:

The death of Jesus was at the hands of earthly rulers. (1 Cor. 2:8)

I responded:

It is not clear what Paul means here by "princes of this world" (the ESV translates this phrase as "rules of this age" and the ASV has it as "rulers of this world"). Doherty has some interesting thoughts on this:

Where, then, was Jesus crucified and by whom? Like the myths of the savior gods, this deed took place in the mythical world, the upper spirit realm of Platonic philosophy, where spiritual processes were seen to be located. It was the work of demon spirits. Paul says, in I Corinthians 2:8, that those who “crucified the Lord of glory” were “the rulers of this age.” That phrase is not a reference to human authorities on earth, but to the demon spirits, who were regarded as controlling the world in the present age of history and who would be overthrown with the arrival of the new apocalyptic age... This was the interpretation of 2:8 by ancient commentators like Marcion and Origen. Modern critical scholars have largely followed suit: Brandon, Barrett, Hering, Fredriksen. Paul Ellingworth, Translator’s Handbook for I Corinthians, p. 46, says: “A majority of scholars think that supernatural powers are intended here.” The Ascension of Isaiah, a Jewish-Christian document in the Pseudepigrapha, foretells the Son descending through the layers of heaven, hiding his identity from the angels and demons until he reaches the lower celestial sphere, where he is “crucified by the god of the world,” meaning Satan (chapter 9). The crucifixion of Paul’s Christ was a spiritual event. (Challenging the Verdict, pp. 250-251)

David asserted:

It is clear that what Paul means here is both the Jewish rulers and the Roman governor.

Where does Paul put such specificity to what he says in I Cor. 2:8? And why no support for this assertion? Again, the issue is Paul's knowledge of the earthly Jesus. Does Paul tell us who he thinks put Jesus to the cross? Only vaguely. He identifies no one in particular here.

David continued:

Doherty supports his absurd, err I mean interesting, Gnostic interpretation by pointing to early Gnostic Christians who consistently blend the two systems together…surprise surprise!

Again failing to produce an argument, David resorts to sneering at sources that have been cited as if this constituted a refutation or could substitute for a counter-argument. He ignores not only the fact that the phraseology in I Cor. 2:8 provides a wide latitude of interpretation, in no way necessitating the literalist view he claims it clearly indicates, but discounts Doherty's point by preferring his literalist interpretation against an interpretation which he associates with that dreaded, heretical foe, Gnosticism. But notice that Doherty does not appeal exclusively to Marcion and Origen. He notes that “modern critical scholars have largely followed suit” in this interpretation of “rulers of this age,” and named several, including Brandon, Barrett, Hering, Fredriksen, and Ellingworth, notably the latter’s Translator’s Handbook for I Corinthians, which I would think David might accept as at least somewhat of a reliable source, which states: “A majority of scholars think that supernatural powers are intended here.” David dismisses all of this with the wave of his hand, simply because this position is associated with Marcion and Origen. Amazing!

David huffed and puffed:

If you wish to hide behind what a “majority of scholars think” you better be consistent with that.

Or else what? As part of his meltdown, David resorts to tough talk, which is common with apologists who find themselves hanging on the ropes. He has continually complained about my reliance on “rhetoric,” and yet here he is doing the same thing, insinuating that I am “hiding” in some way. To be perfectly blunt here, there are times when I do agree with the predominant views among scholars, and there are times when I do not. I do not decide my position by tallying the numbers in favor for it.


Claim #13:

Jesus underwent abuse and humiliation. (Romans 15:3)

I responded:

These are themes that are common throughout the Psalms and Isaiah, both of which very highly influenced Paul’s views. Romans 15:3, the very passage you cite here, quotes Psalms 69:9, which is attributed by the OT to David! Moreover, when Paul refers to Jesus’ abuse and humiliation, he refers to them only vaguely, and gives no historical setting, indicating no specifics of the occasion. Later writers (i.e., of the gospels) take this motif and elaborate on it in their passion scenes, which are variously embellished in the different versions.

David’s rejoinder:

Wow I’m seeing a trend here Dawson…1)point out “missing” stuff 2)assert the legend theory. Are you using a template or something this is crazy?! How would you like it if every single one of my responses started with “since the Gospels are all historical factual accounts…?”

The question before us is: What knowledge did Paul have of the earthly Jesus. As evidence of Paul’s knowledge of the earthly Jesus is a citation to Romans 15:3 which is apparently taken to confirm the view that Paul knew of the passion sequences found in the gospels. Look at what Romans 15:3 states:

For even Christ pleased not himself; but, as it is written, ‘The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell on me’.

As I pointed out in my initial response to David’s claim, Paul is quoting from Psalm 69:9, which states:

For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up; and the reproaches of them that reproached thee are fallen upon me.

It’s clear here that Paul is drawing from the OT, not from knowledge he allegedly has of Jesus’ earthly biography. It is through such citations that the early Christians conceived of Jesus, as a savior already present in the OT literature. For Paul, “seeing” this savior already suggested in the OT may be all that constitutes “revelation” for him. This is not some simplistic “template” of my own here. After all, I did not write Paul’s letters, and I am not the one trying to link Jesus to the OT; Christians have done this since the very beginning. Since the question before us has to do with what Paul knew about the earthly Jesus, we need to review the citations given from Paul’s letters which are purported to attest to his knowledge of the earthly Jesus, and see where he might have gotten them. Clearly this is not a reference to Jesus’ life on earth, but an excerpt from the OT grafted into a concoction which was later filled in with specific details to create a narrative of Jesus’ earthly life. There is certainly no reference to time or place of the reproaches Paul mentions here, indeed no specifics at all.

Claim #14:

Jewish authorities were involved with Jesus' death. (1 Thess. 2:14-16)

I responded:

Doherty points out for us that many scholars are of the view that I Thess. 2:15-16 is an interpolation into an otherwise (for the most part) authentically Pauline letter. He writes: [insert lots of unsupported assertions and citations to other scholars who may have argued something

In the quotation which David omitted here, Doherty names five scholars who consider the passage in question to be an interpolation. I also pointed to two additional scholars identified by Wells who consider it an interpolation. On page 241 (n.16) of his book Challenging the Verdict, Doherty gives some more specifics:

Some scholars who regard the passage as an interpolation: Burton Mack, Who Wrote the New Testament? Harper San Francisco (1995), p. 113; Wayne Meeks, The First Urban Christians, Yale Univ. Press (1983), p. 9, n.117; Helmut Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, Fortress Press, Philadelphia (1982), vol. II, p. 113; Paul Fredriksen: From Jesus to Christ, Yale Univ. Press (1988), p. 122; Birger A. Pearson: “1 Thessalonians 2:13-16: A Deutero-Pauline Interpolation,” Harvard Theological Review 64 (1971 p. 79-94.

Here’s what Paula Fredriksen writes about I Thess. 2:14-16 in the citation given by Doherty:

There are many impediments to accepting this as authentically Pauline. Its sweeping condemnation of “the Jews” contrasts strongly with the way Paul speaks of his own people elsewhere (e.g., Rom 9-11). Its invocation of the prophet-martyr tradition and its accusation of a Jewish spiritual stinginess toward the Gentiles implies an acquaintance with the later synoptic tradition. And finally the past completed action of the final phrase – “God’s wrath has come upon them at last!” – most readily calls to mind the Temple’s destruction in 70. But the strongest argument against Pauline authorship of this passage is Paul’s undisputedly authentic statement in I Cor. 2:8: “None of the rulers (archontes) of this age (aiōn) understood this [secret and hidden wisdom of God]; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” The archons of this aeon, I have argued, are to be understood as astral, nonhuman entities. But if Paul did refer here to the human agents in Jesus’ death, the “rulers of this age” could only be the Romans [i.e., not “the Jews”].

David’s rejoinder:

You haven’t demonstrated it as an interpolation so really your response shows nothing other than Doherty and others trying to make sense of their Platonic eisogesis of Paul.

Well, if David won’t take it from scholars in the know, why would he accept it from lil’ ol’ me?

by Dawson Bethrick

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Paul's Ignorance of the Earthly Jesus, Part 2: Claims 1-7

Now let’s review David’s rejoinders to my counterpoints in regard to the first seven claims that have been made to the effect that Paul had knowledge of the earthly Jesus.


Claim #1:

Jesus was born in human fashion, as a Jew, and had a ministry to the Jews. (Galations 4:4)

I responded:

Yes, Paul does say that Jesus was born. But where was he born? When was he born? Who were his parents? Paul gives us no indication of these things. Paul mentions that he had a mother, but nowhere suggests that he was born a virgin. This legendary element came later as some communities sought to assimilate motifs from rival religions into their own version of Christianity.

David's rejoinder:

Your response is unrelated to what my statement intended to accomplish, which was merely that Paul did say some things about Jesus. Actually you continue to do this for the rest of the post, but I’ll only mention it once.

That "Paul did say some things about Jesus" is not disputed. It has never been something I’ve disputed. My point has been to show that, even when Paul does speak of Jesus, he is not giving details like we find in the gospels, nor do his references confirm the gospels' specifics. In other words, he is not drawing from history as the gospels portray it. For instance, when Paul affirms that Jesus was born of a woman (Gal. 4:4), he does not give her name, he does not in any way suggest that she was a virgin, he does not indicate when Jesus was born, where he was born, or the circumstances surrounding his birth. The when, where and who of Jesus' birth are details which Paul leaves completely unattended. What Paul does give us is completely open-ended; it's not incompatible with the possibility that Jesus was born in Jerusalem or Alexandria or Tyre or in the Macedonian countryside; that his mother's name was Josephine and already had 3 children; that he was born in 316 BCE, etc.


Claim #2:

Jesus was referred to as "Son of God". (1 Cor. 1:9)

I responded:

On this, Wells notes significantly:

Paul characteristically applies to [Jesus] titles such as Lord and Son of God – titles which already existed within Judaism and also in pagan religions (see [H. Braun, ‘Der Sinn der NT Christology’, Zeitschrift fur Theologie und Kirche, 54, pp 350-1) – although Jewish monotheistic influences prevents the earliest Christian writers from calling him God. (Did Jesus exist?, p. 18)

If this is true – that the title “Son of God” was already in use “within Judaism and also in pagan religions” – this is another motif which Christianity borrowed from predecessor religions and applied to Jesus. As such, it has theological, but not historical meaning: it does nothing to specify a historical setting to Paul’s Jesus.

David's rejoinder:

First the usage in Judaism is vastly different from the usage in pagan religions. I’m assuming he’s referring to the passage in Daniel. This phrase in Hebrew is completely different than the pagan concept of gods mating with women to have superhuman offspring. To compare the two is to demonstrate a deficient and surface level understanding of both traditions.

Again, the issue is what did Paul know of the earthly Jesus. As my point demonstrates, Paul need not have had familiarity with the earthly Jesus described in the gospels to have used these titles in reference to him. Even if one does want to claim that "the usage in Judaism is vastly different from the usage in pagan religions,” this would not link Paul’s reference to Jesus as “the Son of God” to knowledge of the earthly Jesus. This title was already infused in the existing religions of the day, so Paul’s use of it does not indicate familiarity with the earthly Jesus.


Claim #3:

Jesus was a direct descendent of King David. (Romans 1:3)

I responded:

David was highly venerated by the Jews, as the legends about him in the OT indicate. Also, since Paul was drawing on OT themes as the palate for his portrait of Jesus, linking him to David would hardly be surprising. Again Wells poignantly nails it: "There are many centuries between David and Paul, and Paul gives no indication in which of them Jesus’ earthly life fell." (Did Jesus exist?, p. 18) The reference to Jesus as coming from the seed of David opens the possible timeline for Paul’s Jesus significantly.

David's rejoinder:

So you’re asserting your conclusions on the data and saying Paul just made it up. All I was saying is Paul mentions it….hmm. Seems like the rhetoric just snowballs lately in these posts. Wells poignantly argues from silence, which is hardly unanticipated given his atheist agenda. Sorry I’m having too much fun, I’ll stop. :P

Still in the throes of a meltdown, David characterizes my position as "saying Paul just made it up," which is not what I stated. I'll state it again: Paul was drawing on OT themes to inform his view of Jesus – not from reported history of the earthly Jesus (for instance, Paul gives no genealogy here), so linking him to David should be of no surprise. Again it's important to remember that Paul tells us that he got his knowledge of the gospel by revelation (Gal. 1:11-12) as opposed to historical reports. I have asked David to explain how this works, and unsurprisingly he has chosen not to pursue this question. For Paul, ‘revelation’ involved reinterpreting OT texts. Also, pointing out that "Paul gives no indication" of which century the earthly Jesus lived, is not an argument from silence. It's simply an observation, and if it were in error one should be able to overturn it by presenting a counter-observation, which David has not supplied. Again, David does not recover the point on behalf of the claim that Paul had any familiarity with the Jesus portrayed in the gospels.


Claim #4:

Jesus prayed to God using the term ‘abba’. (Galations 4:6)

I responded:

When does Paul have his Jesus do this, and where? How does Paul know? Is Paul making a historical reference, or is he making a theological point? The context of the Galatians passage suggests the latter rather than the former. This interpretation is only buttressed by its appearance in Mark, the earliest gospel:

David’s rejoinder:

The term “abba” is the Aramaic equivalent of “daddy.” The fact that Jesus would use such a term to address YHWH, the covenant God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is absolutely ludicrous in a Jewish context. What evidence does Vermes present?

David is apparently unwilling to do his own research. But ultimately I don’t really see the relevance even if one does dispute Vermes’ proposal on the matter, since the claim that Paul has Jesus praying to God using the term ‘abba’ already misconstrues Gal. 4:6, and this claim could only be relevant as a challenge to my position if it can be shown that Paul is citing this from history – i.e., from knowledge of the earthly Jesus. Take a look at Gal. 4:6. It states:

And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.

Paul makes use of the term ‘abba’ elsewhere, in Rom. 8:15:

For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.

None of these quotes suggests that “Jesus prayed to God using the term ‘abba’,” certainly not as we read in the gospels. But even supposing one did get this interpretation from Paul (albeit by reading the gospels into his letters), he gives no indication of time or place or circumstances for this. And how would Paul know if Jesus prayed ‘abba’? The gospels had not been written yet, so he certainly did not get this from them. Did he get it from Peter when he encountered him in Jerusalem or Antioch? Paul nowhere indicates that he did. Also, there are some additional problems regarding this for the historical Jesus side of things, but I’ll get into this soon enough below.

David wrote:

Don’t cite sources to buttress your point if you merely intend to use their assertions and not their arguments.

Um, I’ll do whatever the hell I want. I certainly do not take orders from David.

David went on:

Anyway, this kind of thing is what got him crucified in the first place.

I don’t think even the gospels have Jesus being crucified because he called the father deity “abba” in a private prayer. Indeed, Paul in no way suggests that this is what got Jesus crucified.

David wrote:

If the Jews were comfortable with it, then they sure reacted funny (well I guess I’m assuming they really reacted and you would merely contend the reaction was staged to prove a point by the author).

Since David brings it up, let’s think about the Jews’ reactions to the Jesus of Christianity according to the New Testament for a moment. In the gospels, they want Jesus crucified for breaking their religious laws. But in the book of Acts, Peter is able to convert thousands of Jerusalem’s Jews with a couple sermons not long after the crucifixion. As Wells points out:

Peter's speeches in the early chapters of Acts go down extraordinarily well. He declares that "God foreshewed by the mouth of all the prophets that his Christ should suffer" (3:18). One might expect Jews to regard this as stretching their scriptures more than a bit. But no, Peter's audience accepted it in their thousands (4:4). This speech, and his previous one at Pentecost, have sufficed to Christianize what has been calculated as one fifth of the then population of Jerusalem. (Can We Trust the New Testament?, pp. 90-91)

In his speech before a multitude of Jerusalem Jews which served to convert some “three thousand souls” according to Acts 2:41, Peter refers to God as “the Father” (v. 33). Apparently these Jews did not have a problem with this, and in so short a time after their leadership had allegedly delivered Jesus to Pilate to be crucified. Indeed, that the Jerusalem Christians were so prominent and publicly active in the Jewish capital of the time, apparently only three or so months after their god-man had been sentenced to death for capital crimes, seems quite implausible. Wells explains how this commonly overlooked implausibility also works against the view that Jesus had a biological brother:

It is almost universally supposed that James was the brother of Jesus, and thus that Paul, James, and Cephas alike worshipped a Jesus recently executed at the behest of the Jerusalem authorities as a Messianic pretender, as “king of the Jews” according to the gospels. But if the Jerusalem authorities had found Jesus sufficiently dangerous to have eliminated him, is it plausible that they would have left unmolested, for a generation or more, his close followers in the same city who were implicating themselves in all that he had stood for by proclaiming that his resurrection had vindicated him as God’s Messiah, and that he would shortly return and inaugurate his kingdom? Followers who thus proclaimed his persisting power would surely have been recognized as defiant of the authorities who had so recently killed him, and as much a threat to public order as he himself had been. It seems, then, that we must abandon the premises that James and Cephas (any more than Paul) were closely linked – by blood relationship or by personal acquaintance – with a recently active Jesus who had been found worse than merely troublesome. If, however, they and the community they led in Jerusalem constituted no more than an obscure Jewish sect, worshipping, as Paul did, a distant figure who was probably quite unknown to the authorities of the time, then it is understandable that they were allowed to survive untroubled. M.P. Miller has justly noted that this problem of reconciling the gospels’ view of Jesus’s Passion and execution with “the establishment and survival for more than a generation of a Jerusalem church as a Messianic movement in the same city has hardly ever surfaced, let alone been adequately addressed” ([“’Beginning from Jerusalem’... Re-examining Canon and Consensus,” Journal of Higher Criticism 2 (1995)], p. 7). It is, he adds, a problem which should “make one far less inclined to suppose that the Gospel Passion narratives constitute sources from which one can extract and reconstruct the historical circumstances and reasons for the death of Jesus” (p. 20) (The Jesus Myth, p. 69)

The portrait which we find of the Jerusalem church in Acts, makes its leaders larger than life, performing miraculous works left and right and preaching to thousands at a time. In what we are led to believe would be just a matter of weeks after Jesus’ crucifixion by Jerusalem authorities, Jesus’ followers are represented as no quiet bunch, drawing attention to themselves as they preached Jesus resurrected and performed wonders in his name before large crowds. If the Jerusalem authorities found Jesus to be sufficient a threat to have him executed, how can we believe that in so short a time after Jesus’ execution his followers were not only marching on with Jesus’ message, but also preaching to Jerusalem’s masses and converting its citizens by the thousands? As history, this is all most implausible and indicates a later tradition by which time the view of Christian beginnings had grown in grandeur to what we have in Acts, a sort of ‘Golden Age’ picture of the apostles and their adventures as they spread the new religion.

David wrote:

If indeed this isn’t historical (the usage is multiply attested mind you), then some explanation is required.

Why is historical accuracy the only plausible explanation for Paul’s reference to ‘abba’? We saw above that Paul’s references to ‘abba’ do not even suggest that Paul meant that Jesus had used this term in his prayers. Paul was apparently referencing an early Christian prayer practice, but he in no way suggests that this originated from a prayer that Jesus had prayed in his pre-crucifixion life. Indeed, Paul attributes it to “the Spirit.”

David wrote:

You focus on Mark, but there are numerous references elsewhere such as Matt 7:21; 10:32-33; 11:27; 12:50; 16:17; 18:10,14; 20:23; 25:34; 26:39, 42,53; Luke 10:22; 22:29; 24:49; plus 22 other occurrences in John.

The reason why I’ve focused on Mark 14:36 is because it is the only instance in the gospels which put the word ‘abba’ into Jesus’ mouth. All the references which David gives here are to ‘Father’ using the Greek word ‘pater’; they are not instances of the occurrence of ‘abba’ in Jesus’ prayers. Acts would have us believe that Jews had no problem with referring to the creator of the universe as ‘Father’ as public preaching making use of this reference has them converted by the thousands, as we saw above. The claim in question is that Paul knew that Jesus had prayed to God using the term ‘abba’, and Mark 14:36 is the only instance in any of the gospel narratives which does this. Even when Matthew gets to the part in Mark’s gospel where Jesus goes off by himself in the Garden of Gethsemane to pray his hesitation prayer (the gospels have him make this prayer in secret, so who would have witnessed it?), he omits the word ‘abba’ (Mt. 26:39). For some reason the author of Matthew didn’t think it made sense. Clearly the evangelist considered the monologue in Mark to be subject to redaction.

It should be pointed out here that the early Christians’ use of ‘Father’ was not unprecedented in Jewish literature. Even in the OT, we find references to Yahweh as ‘Father’. See for example Isaiah 63:16, 64:8, which explicitly refer to Yahweh as “our Father” and with which Paul would have undoubtedly been familiar. So referring to God as “Father” was not something new, as it had a long heritage in the Judaism of the day.

Besides, Mark 14:36 allows for no witnesses, since it has Jesus praying in private when he utters the formula, “Abba, Father.” This is literature at this point, not history.

David continued:

As Darrell Bock points out: “Source levels here include unique Matthean material, unique Lukan material, and some Matthean-Lukan texts (=Q). The expression is multiple attested.” (Jesus According to Scripture, pg 592)

Which expression enjoys multiple attestation here? ‘Abba’? It appears only in Mark and Paul’s epistles. I find no use of it in either Matthew or Luke. The foregoing points clearly indicate that it does not enjoy multiple attestation. Indeed, why does Matthew drop the reference to ‘abba’ in his version of the same hesitation prayer episode? We are talking about the same thing, are we not?

David concluded:

So it looks like this tradition has a much more probable explanation if grounded in historical fact then legend, unless an adequate explanation for the legend being dispersed across all possible source material can be conjured up, err I mean postulated. :P

Again, are we talking about the same thing here? The question before us is whether Paul’s reference to ‘abba’ came from knowledge he had of the historical Jesus rather than from a traditional formula whose roots lie elsewhere, such as Aramaic-speaking Christian communities. When Paul makes reference to ‘Abba, Father’ in Gal. 4:6 and Rom. 8:15, is he suggesting that Jesus prayed this at some point during his life on earth? I find no such suggestion in either passage, and would like to see some explanation for why one might think this. David gives none. Even if Jesus did speak this in his prayers, how would Paul know about it? The gospels were not written yet, so he could not have read about it. Paul never suggests that he learned this from his interaction with other Christians (e.g., Peter), and in fact does not put this word into Jesus’ mouth anywhere in his letters. The only time ‘abba’ appears in the New Testament outside Paul’s letters is in Mark 14:36, where Jesus is depicted as praying in private; the episode allows for no witnesses to the prayer Mark puts into Jesus’ mouth here, so it appears to be a literary invention, not a historical anecdote. If it were historical, why do both Matthew (at 26:39) and Luke (at 22:42) omit it? I surmise that the textual evidence in no way points to a historical chronicle here, but rather to a construction on the part of the evangelists.


Claim #5:

Jesus expressly forbid divorce. (1 Cor. 7:10)

I wrote:

Does Paul say when, or where, or indicate the circumstances of this delivery? How would Paul know this? That’s right, Paul appeals to revelation as the means by which he learned his gospel. Later writers could easily take such references and put them into a portrait of an earthly Jesus purported by some to be historical. How hard would it be to do this?

David's rejoinder:

This is beginning to become quite tiresome. You are assuming that Paul needs to buttress his doctrinal and theological points with historical context…totally unsupported assertion and the counterfactual has been argued quite convincingly by yours truly. In addition, as you’ve agreed, Paul’s audience was already open to the supernatural so why would he write to them as if they were some skeptic? If you wish for Paul to have such intentions in mind, I will insist that you argue for such an unusual exegetical framework.

David has forgotten that the issue is Paul's knowledge of the earthly Jesus, that is, the pre-crucifixion Jesus, whose biography is what the gospel narratives are supposed to portray. It’s not whether or not “Paul needs to buttress his doctrinal and theological points with historical context,” it’s that he consistently fails to do this, most noticeably when doing so would help strengthen his arguments. The implication behind the claim in question here is that Paul’s reference to Jesus forbidding divorce suggests familiarity with the earthly Jesus. But as we probe this claim, we find no reference to time, place or occasion when Jesus is supposed to have given such a ruling. Look at what the verse in question (I Cor. 7:10) states:

And unto the married I command, yet not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband.

Paul seems to be appealing to a revelation from Christ in heaven here, and makes no suggestion that this is a teaching that Jesus had delivered while on earth. Wells points out in relation to this:

Another striking feature of Paul’s letters is that one could never gather from them that Jesus had been an ethical teacher. Paul is not indifferent to ethical problems; on the contrary, his epistles abound in ethical admonition. But on only one occasion does he appeal to the authority of Jesus to support an ethical teaching which the gospels also represent Jesus as having delivered; and in this instance it is not necessary to suppose thtat Paul believed that the doctrine in question had been taught by the historical (as opposed to the risen) Jesus. (The Historical Evidence For Jesus, p. 23)

Wells also points out that the instruction “Let not the wife depart from her husband,” could make sense in Gentile Christian communities, where Paul issues it. But where Mark gives Jesus’ teachings on divorce (10:11-12), Wells rightly points out that such teaching makes no sense for the community which the gospel has Jesus addressing, namely a Jewish community in Palestine:

Some of the sayings Mark ascribes to Jesus were obviously never spoken by a historical Jesus, but were concocted in a Christian community remote in place in time from the Palestine of AD 30. For instance, in Mk. 10:12 Jesus rules that if a woman divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery. Such an utterance would have been meaningless in Palestine, where only men could obtain divorce. It is a ruling for the Gentile Christian readers of Mark, which the evangelist put into Jesus’ mouth in order to give it authority. This tendency to anchor later customs and institutions to Jesus’ supposed lifetime played a considerable role in the building up of his biography. (Ibid., p. 13)

So even here, there are noteworthy incongruities which point, like a smoking gun, to the development of a legend.

In addition, David's comments imply a dichotomy which I have not endorsed, namely: that either Paul would never refer to the historical context in which Jesus gave teachings that he believes he made while in the flesh, or he would be treating the intended audience of his letters, who already accepted supernaturalism, as skeptics. This is quite a stretch. Would Paul necessarily be treating his congregants as skeptics if he made references to Jesus’ earthly activities? I don’t think so. Were the evangelists treating their intended audiences as skeptics when they penned their narratives of the earthly Jesus’ life? Were the later epistle writers who did include references to the earthly Jesus in their writings treating their intended audiences as skeptics? Are preachers today treating their congregations as skeptics when they make references to aspects of Jesus’ life as it is portrayed in the gospels? This seems a rather desperate attempt to deflect the point of the matter.


Claim #6:

Jesus taught that ‘preachers’ should be paid for their preaching. (1 Cor. 9:14)

I responded:

Another feature that Paul got from the OT. He even quotes Deut. 25:4 in I Cor. 9:9. Paul is not giving evidence of familiarity with an earthly Jesus here; he gives no indication of a historical setting on earth where Jesus would have given such instruction, and attributes the teaching to “the Lord,” for Paul, the risen Jesus, not the earthly Jesus. The later writers (i.e., of the gospels) take this reference, which has ecclesiastical significance for Paul, and give it the impression of historical significance by putting the teaching into Jesus’ mouth (cf. Mt. 10:10; Lk. 10:7).

David's rejoinder:

Oh I get it so Jesus can’t be Jewish and use the Old Testament but Paul clearly does. But you haven’t shown where in the OT this teaching (1 Cor 9:14) can be derived from????????? The later writers (i.e., of the gospels) take this reference, which has ecclesiastical significance for Paul, and provide a more in-depth historical context that illuminate Jesus’ teachings on the subject (cf. Mt. 10:10; Lk. 10:7).

I have nowhere stated that "Jesus can't be Jewish and use the Old Testament." That "Paul clearly does" is borne out by Paul's own writing, as I have shown. And as I mentioned above, just a few verses prior to I Cor. 9:14, Paul quotes Deut. 25:4 (“Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn,” which a later writer, posing as Paul, quotes to justify the conclusion that “the laborer is worthy of his wages” (I Tim. 5:18). In the I Cor. 9 passage, Paul is actually showing us how he reasons from the quote taken from Deut. 25:4 to secure the conclusion that preachers should be paid for their preaching, a rather self-serving instruction which his own writing shows how he derives it from the OT. He even appeals to common temple practice of the day in v. 13. Is it really so farfetched that a preacher would demand financial support from his congregants and claim this is God’s will?

What David does not do is show where Paul gives a historical setting for the earthly Jesus issuing this instruction, which is the point in question here. Paul took a teaching from the OT to its logical conclusion for his context as a preacher, and attributes it to "the Lord." Later writers, concocting historical narratives for the earthly Jesus, then took this reference and inserted it into Jesus’ mouth.


Claim #7:

Paul's "Jesus taught about the end-time. (1 Thess. 4:15)

I responded:

Again, Paul is here appealing to “the Lord” (as opposed to Jesus), which signifies for him the risen savior. Nor Paul does indicate a historical context for the teaching he ascribes to “the Lord.” By referring to “we” here (instead of “they” or some other third person reference), Paul indicates (as he does in other passages) his belief that Jesus’ return was coming soon, probably even within his own expected lifetime. No such luck. But this did not prevent later writers from adapting the gloom and doom eschatology and putting it into Jesus’ mouth.

David's rejoinder:

Well you’ve not failed to consistently assert that kurios refers to a risen Jesus as opposed to an earthly Jesus. How exactly does one make such a distinction (hint: pointing out that Paul didn’t tell us doesn’t count). 1 Cor 12:3 “Therefore I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says “Jesus is accursed!” and no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except in the Holy Spirit.” And don’t forget about the most important verse of all! Romans 10: 9 “because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

These quotes actually help my position. Let's recall how in Rom. 1:4 Paul makes it clear that Jesus' power came "by the resurrection from the dead." The verses which David quotes here, which state "Jesus is Lord," do not constitute a refutation of Rom. 1:4, nor are they a counterexample disproving Paul’s habit of referring to the risen Jesus as Lord. Rather, Rom. 1:4 provides a context by which we can understand these verses. Even in the Rom. 10:9 verse, that the risen Jesus is what Paul has in mind here is obvious.

But again, notice that David does not recover the point for his side, for he does not attempt to counter my observation (namely that Paul gives no historical context for the eschatological pronouncement here which he attributes to “the Lord” here) by citing a historical context given by Paul in which "Jesus taught about the end-time," which is what he would need to do in order to claim this point on behalf of Paul's knowledge of the earthly Jesus. Again, Paul is not drawing from knowledge of the earthly Jesus, rather he is appealing to knowledge revealed to him by the risen Lord.

I will continue with the remaining claims in my next post.

by Dawson Bethrick