Legends, Lüdemann, and Inductive Inference

In my discussions last year with David Parker regarding the legend theory (the theory that the New Testament documents contain legendary material), his counter was to defend the view that the earliest documents, namely the Pauline letters (in particular 1 Corinthians 15:3-8), were “too early” to be the product of legendary development. In the sources which he introduced in his defense, David emphasized the fact that historians generally affirm their conclusions as a matter of probability rather than as incontestable certainties. I of course acknowledge this, but pointed to numerous examples in the Christian apologetic literature which affirm that passages like 1 Corinthians 15:3-8 are “too early” to contain legendary material, with no suggestion that such positions have only a probable nature. In fact, often quite the contrary is the case.

A prime example comes from the very passage in Geisler and Turek’s book I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist which started our lengthy discussion in the first place, where they say of the passage in question that “there’s no possible way that such testimony could describe a legend, because it goes right back to the time and place of the event itself” (p. 242, emphasis added). There is a strong tendency in the apologetic literature to portray apologetic positions and arguments as aligned with, informed and corroborated by the latest, most rigorous historical scholarship. And yet here are Geisler and Turek telling us that “there’s no possible way” that 1 Corinthians 15:3-8 could contain legendary material, even though we are repeatedly told that historical conclusions are at best probable in nature.

In my analysis of Geisler and Turek’s misleading statements about 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, I pointed out that such declarations take the timeline for Jesus’ life, crucifixion and resurrection as found in the NT gospels for granted, which of course begs the question against the legend theory, the very position to which statements like the one quoted from Geisler and Turek are apparently trying to answer. Specifically, Geisler and Turek’s view assumes that Paul was talking of a man who recently lived, who was crucified and resurrected in his own lifetime. Unfortunately, nothing in Paul’s letters explicitly confirm any of this, and statements from Paul’s letters which are taken to imply that Paul’s Jesus was a recent historical figure are questionable at best, and difficult to reconcile with the overall treatment of Jesus found throughout Paul’s letters (see for instance here, here, and here). Paul nowhere gives any explicit timeframe for Jesus’ life on earth, never states when or where he was crucified and resurrected, and only vaguely (without any details pertaining to place, time or situation) mentions Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances, and even then only in passing, and only once in all his letters, namely in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8. This is in stark contrast to the detailed stories we find in the later NT strata, namely the gospel narratives.

In substantiating the position that it is improbable that legends in the first century AD developed in less than a generation, David referenced the work of Gerd Lüdemann, Professor of History and Literature of Early Christian at Georg-August-University Göttingen, Germany. According to David, Lüdemann is responsible for breakthrough research on legends in the first century, and found in that research that no legends outside Christianity developed in less than a generation, and may have even taken longer for them to develop. When asked what is meant by “develop” in this context, David clarified as follows: “the idea is that within a generation one would not see much changing of the story” (David Parker, 28 Nov. 2008).

Keep in mind that, prior to having been written down by Paul in his letter to the Corinthian church, this “creed” in I Corinthians 15:3-8 was supposedly an oral tradition that was passed around among Christians. That’s one of the operating assumptions lurking beneath claims, like Geisler and Turek’s, that the content of what we’re reading in this passage “goes right back to the time and place of the event itself.” I have sought from David validation for this assumption, and unfortunately it was rather fleeting, and in his 4 Aug. 2008 comment he admitted that he “cannot personally date the creed,” and “guesses” that I am correct that those who do assign a date of the early 30s AD to what is assumed to be a creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, like Gary Habermas, cannot figure such a dating without relying on the gospels. Without the gospels, there is no indication of a date for Jesus’ crucifixion and no basis for assigning the date of what is claimed to be a creed in the passage in question to the early 30s. Consequently, if the content of the gospels has a legendary character, as the legend theory holds, then they are unreliable for purposes of establishing the date of Jesus' crucifixion. We are then left with the early epistles, which not only fail to identify a timeframe for the crucifixion, but in fact treat it as if it happened in some remote past, with no interest paid to time, place or circumstances of the event in question.

If I Corinthians 15:3-8 does contain an “early creed,” and Paul did not formulate it himself, who did? Of course, there seems to be no clear answer here. If it is a creed, it appears to be anonymous. This apparently does not raise any concerns for Christians insisting that it does contain a creed, for they also typically insist that Paul would have researched it and verified every element of what it stated, otherwise he would not have recited it in his letter. They take statements from Paul’s letter to the Galatians, where Paul mentions that he met with Peter and James on his two visits to Jerusalem, as license to make this kind of assumption. We are to believe, then, that Paul was not just out missionizing various gentile locales, but also an avid fact-checker, chasing down any possible shred of evidence to back up every claim he makes in his letters. We are thus assured that Paul did all the necessary homework, and we’re expected to simply believe what he says on this assumption. If a defense could be weaker, I wouldn’t want to see it.

As for the original content of an oral tradition (that is, when it is first formulated), when asked how we can know whether or not the tradition that finally got penned to a piece of paper years later underwent change or remained entirely intact, if it were embellished or modified along the way at some point, David conceded, in a 1 Dec. 2008 comment, that “historians can't know for sure,” but added that “they can formulate what the most probable conclusion [in] that best explains the data.” So we’re back to what someone thinks is “most probable,” and what apparently governs the assessment that a conclusion is “most probable” is how well “it explains the data.” This gives little cause for supposing that what we read in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8 in fact reflects an intact oral tradition which originated in the early 30s. Moreover, after ample attempts to criticize my position, I see no reason why the legend theory fails to "best explain... the data," or why it is less probable than the miracle stories contained in the literature.

At any rate we have, on this view, an oral tradition, which gives no details as to time, place or circumstances of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus listed therein, whose author(s) are unknown, whose date of origin is at best speculative and based on later sources which clearly exhibit the telltale marks of legendary development, and which cannot with any confidence be verified not to have undergone change or modification since its original formulation. Paul then picks it up somewhere (though he never calls it a creed, and never identifies any human being(s) as its source), and recites it only one time in all his letters, tagging onto its end his own claim that the risen Christ “appeared” to him, and never elaborating on the experience he claims here to have had in any of his letters. There are numerous other problems with this passage which I will bring out in my next blog. For now, what is interesting at this point is the heavy reliance on inductive methodology in concluding that the New Testament, especially early letters like Paul’s, could not have been tarnished with legendary development.

David made the reliance of the “too early to be legend” thesis on inductive reasoning explicitly clear in several statements he made in the comments section of this blog.

For instance, in his 28 Nov., 2008 comment, David wrote:

The argument is a rather simply inductive move, taking the trend in first century legend develop and extrapolating to a probability about Jesus' story.

I had asked:

is your position akin to the view that, since Ludemann has (purportedly) shown that no other legend in first century Palestine developed in less than a generation, therefore the Christian legend did not develop in less than a generation?

In the same 28 Nov., 2008 comment, David responded:

Insert probably before "did not develop" and it looks good. Its called extrapolating from the sample to the general population. The heart of the inductive method.

And to confirm David’s position, I asked (in my 28 Nov., 2008 response to his above comment):

Okay, so the basic reasoning is: Since it is believed that no other legend in first century Palestine developed in less than a generation, it is supposed that the Christian legend therefore probably did not develop in less than a generation. How’s that?

To this David responded:

Yup, just like the old "all observed polar bears are white, therefore inductively we can assume that probably the polar bear in that room is white." Don't remember where I heard that example, but its common in books which introduce the inductive method.

Furthermore, in his 1 Dec., 2008 comment, David wrote:

it is my position that classical deductive/inductive arguments in addition to historical evidence are sufficient to make a rational case for Christianity.

These comments make it clear that David clearly assumes the validity of induction, and even states for the record that inductive arguments have a primary role in “mak[ing] a rational case for Christianity.”

Now recall that, when asked what his ultimate starting point is, David David gavethe statement “the Bible is the Word of God.” In that same exchange I had given my own critique of this statement as a starting point, and at that point David took it to a friend of his, a Christian named Dominic “Bnonn” Tennant, who posted his own response to my points on his own blog. (In turn I posted my own rejoinder to Tennant’s points, and so far I’ve seen no response to it from any Christians.) In going to Tennant for guidance on such matters, David clearly demonstrated that he considers Tennant to be an authority on things philosophical.

The problem is that Tennant’s position dramatically undermines David’s defense of the “too early to be legend” thesis. In his 18 Jan. 2009 comment to this Triablogue post, Tennant declared that “induction is an informal fallacy.” When challenged on this (by John Donohue, an occasional visitor to my blog), Tennant, in the same blog comments section, quoted an encyclopedia no less, no doubt a stalwart source of philosophical acumen:

In logic, a type of nonvalid inference or argument in which the premises provide some reason for believing that the conclusion is true. Typical forms of inductive argument include reasoning from a part to a whole, from the particular to the general, and from a sample to an entire population. Induction is traditionally contrasted with deduction. Many of the problems of inductive logic, including what is known as the problem of induction, have been treated in studies of the methodology of the natural sciences. (Britannica Concise Encyclopedia, 'induction'.)

If it is the case that “induction is an informal fallacy,” that it is “a type of nonvalid inference or argument,” what then can be said on behalf of David’s defense of the “too early to be legend” thesis? Wouldn’t this mean that the conclusion that, since no other legends in the first century developed in less than a generation, therefore Christianity probably did not develop in less than a generation, is based on a methodology which is informally fallacious?

I’m glad these aren’t my problems!

by Dawson Bethrick

Pass the Pepto Baptismal: The “Hell Being Community” at Wat Phai Rong Wua

Some things in religious thought can really turn one’s stomach. In fact, some notions seem to have been imagined expressly for this purpose. The notion of inescapable misery in an “afterlife” is one of the more graphic examples of this. Westerners are typically well familiar with traditional Christianity’s notion of hell, where the “disobedient” are sent after their death to roast for eternity in unquenchable flames (“seven times hotter than the sun,” as one pastor I knew used to enjoy repeating).

But did you realize that there is a homologous idea in Theravada Buddhism? Sure, there are differences in terms of non-essentials. For instance, the Buddhist notion of “hell” does not involve the “lake of fire” that we all know and love from Christianity. But the meta-ethical underlay of both worldviews operates, to varying degrees, on the premise that an individual’s chosen actions are to be compelled by the threat of a stick. It’s the same “do this – or alternatively, don’t do this – or else!” Without the threat of the stick, one is apt to "do wrong." Clearly one's actions are not to be chosen on the basis of goal-orientation and the pursuit of personal values.

There is a noteworthy difference between Buddhism and Christianity though. The notion of Karma stands behind the causal process which determines one’s fate as the consequence of his personal behavior. But unlike the Christian notion of divine judgment, Karma cannot be overruled by any being. That's right, there’s no “get out of jail free” card, no god that can come along and arbitrarily pull someone from the consequences of his own choices and actions and “save” him from what he rightfully deserves. Also, in Buddhism, one can have a say, through his own personal choices, in the fate he is to have after his present life, while in Christianity this is all pre-determined beforehand, irrespective of one’s chosen actions. So in Buddhism there is a kind of ‘tyranny of justice’ of sorts unknown to Christianity. Clearly Buddhism holds justice in higher regard than does Christianity.

On my most recent trip to Thailand, I made it a point to visit Wat Phai Rong Wua (which roughly translates to “temple of the bamboo barn”), a vast temple compound in Suphanburi province which is home to one of the most unforgettable exhibits I have ever seen. Known as the “hell being community” or “city of hell,” this exhibit displays hundreds of life-size (and larger) plaster sculptures depicting every variant of torture and torment one could imagine as a graphic illustration of what awaits those who misbehave in the afterlife to come.

Wat Phai Rong Wua is famous among the Thais as a place of veneration, but it is virtually unknown to foreigners. This is not one of the temples that you’re likely going to visit if you’re traveling through Thailand on a group tour, for instance. I myself saw no westerners there on either of my two visits to this most curious site. On my first visit to Wat Phai Rong Wua, in 2006, I was not prepared for what I was about to see. I took only a few pictures and really had too little time to take in what the temple grounds had to offer. So on this trip, I made it a priority to revisit Wat Phai Rong Wua, and take as many photos as I could of the horrific depictions showcased at the temple’s hell exhibit.


My photos are now online. I invite my readers to check them out here.


As you look through these photos, consider the effort that must have been put into erecting this monument to eternal suffering. Somebody really took this seriously.

While Thailand is, delightfully, as untouched by Christianity as any society on earth today could be, it is still home to an extremely mystical culture. Buddhism, like Christianity, has its own assortment of invisible magic beings, though they are not theistic in nature, and they tend to have more colorful personalities than those found in the Christian religion. This is actually ironic given the Vantillian school’s tendency to cast non-Christian religions as “impersonal.” In Buddhism, some of these magic beings are even not invisible at all to begin with. Take for example the notorious graseu, which is a witch consisting of a floating head attached only to its entrails (no broomstick!). Descriptions of this malevolent being bring to mind the image of a kite flying through the air, with a long tail of internal organs flapping in the wind as it flies from haunt to haunt. I joked with my hosts that I was hungry from some “gang graseu” – i.e., "witch soup" – and they really enjoyed that one. Unfortunately I could find no depictions of the graseu at the hell being community of Wat Phai Rong Wua.

If you’re ever planning a trip to Thailand and have never been there, please feel free to contact me if you have questions (e-mail: sortion@hotmail.com). I’ve traveled to this precious kingdom five times now, and it never fails to amaze me. But there are precautions one should keep in mind while visiting “the land of smiles.” If you’re traveling with a group, you’ll probably be better insulated. But I have never traveled with a group in Thailand, and have always mingled only with the locals, which I think is preferable anyway. (Seriously, why go to the other side of the earth only to sit next to some obese sixty-year-old from Indiana the whole time? No, I'm not knocking Indiana...) Then again, moving among the locals can expose you to certain unpleasantries that westerners might not be used to. For me, that’s still preferable to hanging around the established tourist traps, which nauseate me to no end.

by Dawson Bethrick

Was Adam Created Perfect?

I am now back from my trip to Thailand, back to the comfort of a temperate clime and a bug-free home. While my journeys to SE Asia are always an exciting adventure, it is always an unavoidable realization upon returning that there is no place like home!

Just prior to my departure for SE Asia last month, I posed a question to my readers. The question was:

Was Adam created perfect?

Much to my delight, my question sparked a lively discussion among several visitors to my blog. And though the discussion did not wholly go in the direction I had originally in mind (and that’s not at all a bad thing!), I encourage readers to peruse the comments section of that blog and ponder many of the points that were made there. Very interesting food for thought can be found there, and I am grateful to those visitors who contributed to the discussion.

As for the question, Was Adam created perfect?, the answer to this question of course depends on whom you consult.

In the comments section of my blog in which I posed this question, Robert Bumbalough stated:

Since the two Genesis creation accounts are fictional, then the only creation that occurs, perfect or otherwise, happens in the brains of those who fantasize about those stories.

And of course I agree with the essence of Robert’s statement here. In that case, one could say I’ve posed a trick question. Since there is no god, no creation, no Adam, then obviously the question as to whether Adam was created perfect or not, is purely academic.

But if we focus our sights on the internals of Christian thought, the question acquires special gravity. Christians have throughout history affirmed the historical reliability of the book of Genesis in one sense or another (the New Testament clearly assumes its historicity), and even today typically insist that there really was an Adam and that this Adam really was created by a supernatural deity. But even here we find a conspicuous lack of uniformity on the issue which my question raises. The answer seems to vary depending on who’s providing it. In the same comments section, a Christian who calls himself Vytautas made it clear that he does think Adam was indeed created perfect when he responded:

Yes, since God made him very good. He did not have any defects such as being dead in sin, which causes men to hate God. Also he was made with the potential to fall into sin, so that he had free will with respect to whether or not to obey God.

So here’s one Christian’s vote for Adam having been created perfect. And Vytautas is by no means alone on this. Christian apologist Cornelius Van Til agrees that Adam was created perfect (at least at one point [1]). He writes:

...I have frequently explained that by the term “autonomous man” I mean the idea of a man who virtually denies his createdness. As created in paradise man was a distinct ontological entity over against God. As made perfect he recognized that God his creator was also his lawgiver. (The Defense of the Faith, p. 188; emphasis added)

But then there’s Christian apologist John Byl, who writes:

Adam, the first man, was created good and upright, in the image of God. Though good, he was not yet perfect: he had the potential to fall. He could freely choose between good and evil. He had the capacity to serve God. Unhappily, Adam chose not to serve that glorious purpose. Giving in to the devil, he wilfully subjected himself to sin and death. Thereafter man became enslaved to sin. (Free Will and Responsibility; emphasis added)

In contrast to Van Til, Byl explicitly contends that Adam was not created perfect. Such disagreement between two Christian thinkers is perplexing. Both Van Til and Byl are Christians, and as Christians, they’re supposed to be “led by the Spirit,” that is, the Holy Spirit. Or so we’ve been told? But the views they affirm are in direct conflict with one another. Either Adam was created perfect, or he wasn’t. It can’t be both.

It is noteworthy that, while Vytautas takes the claim that Adam was created “very good” to indicate that Adam was therefore created perfect, Byl allows that Adam “was created good and upright,” but still “was not yet perfect.” For Vytautas, being created “good” is an indication of perfection, while Byl apparently thinks it is possible to be “created good and upright” and still be “not yet perfect.” Also, Byl’s phrase “not yet perfect” seems a bit misleading, since according to the story Adam never becomes perfect (or in Van Til’s case, regains his perfection after the fall). Byl is happy to point out that Adam “had the potential to fall,” but he does not explicitly state that Adam also had the potential to achieve perfection. A “fall from grace,” which is typically how Christians characterize Adam’s spiritual decline, is not necessarily a fall from perfection. And while the book of Genesis does, in umbrella fashion, appear to affirm that Adam was “very good” (Gen. 1:31, which occurs after Adam was created, reads “God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good”), “very good” does not necessarily mean or imply “perfect.” “Very good” and “perfect” are not synonymous. I can score 97% on a test and be said to have a “very good” score on it, but my performance on that test was not in fact perfect.

Now, I could understand two heavy-weight Christian thinkers conflicting on something utterly trivial, such as whether Abraham left Ur (cf. Gen. 11:31) on a Tuesday morning or on a Tuesday afternoon; it’s hard to see how either position on such an issue would have much doctrinal significance. But on a matter such as whether or not Adam was created perfect, conflict among Christians is rather surprising. Wouldn’t Christian doctrine be clear on such a matter? Wouldn’t the Holy Spirit protect believers from error on such a point? Would we be wrong to expect Christianity’s more tutored representatives to speak “with one accord” on such fundamental matters? How could two Holy Spirit-filled Christians disagree like this?

Byl explains his view that Adam “was not yet perfect” with the premise that Adam “had the potential to fall. He could freely choose between good and evil.” Do Byl and other Christians think their god can “freely choose between good and evil,” or do they think that it is constrained from such choices as this? If the Christian god “could freely choose between good and evil,” it seems that, according to Byl’s reasoning, it would therefore have “the potential to fall” as well. I doubt Byl and other Christians would care much for this implication, which seems plain enough to me from the statements given. If the Christian claims that his god is a free agent, possessing freedom to choose its actions (as Christianity typically does claim about its god; states one source: “God is a free agent, who does what pleases him”), then according to the Christian worldview it is apparently possible to possess free will and yet never fall short of glory, never sin, never do evil, or what have you. But curiously, Christians typically seem to think that their god could not have created Adam both as a free agent and also as a being which could refrain entirely from all evil, sin, or what have you. In spite of the claim that the Christian god created Adam after its own image, this god seems quite unable to replicate its own qualities in what it creates. Was Adam created perfect, omniscient, infallible, omnipotent, omnibenevolent, infinite, incorruptible, etc.? Christian apologists will likely insist that their god chose to create Adam without these qualities. But this not only raises concerns against the claim that man was created “in God’s image,” but also questions as to why it would have so chosen, given its own alleged perfection. In effect, Christians taking this course of defense are saying that their god chose to create something imperfect. How can we call a creator “perfect” when it creates something less than perfect, whether intentionally or not?

Of course this leads to the problem of evil, which in fact is part of a broader problem within Christianity, a problem to which Franc Tremblay refers as “Problems of Deficiency,” or what I call simply the problem of imperfection.

In regard to the problem of evil, commonplace are evasive responses such as the following:

the Bible says that everything that God creates is good so why did He create evil? Evil is not a “thing.” God did not create evil. Evil is an illusion created by a wrong choice. That choice was man’s choice. So if evil is the result of man’s free will, then does that mean that God created evil by creating free will?

It seems odd to say on the one hand that “God” created everything distinct from itself, and on the other hand that it is not responsible for the profusion of evil which is virtually ubiquitous throughout its creation. Byl himself insists that “God is not responsible for moral evil; he is not the author of sin,” and holds that “the moral responsibility of sin remains with those who actually do the sin.” Though this is a typical position among many Christians, it’s hard to see this as anything other than a case of blaming the creation for its faults (even though they were allegedly created by a “perfect” creator which created exactly what it chose to create). Paul, in Romans 9:21, asks: “Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?” One would think that a potter would have such power over his clay, especially if he were perfect and omnipotent, as we are expected to believe in regard to the Christian god. But why would a potter, especially if he is rational, spend his efforts in making a vessel “unto dishonour”? What would motivate someone to do this? If Paul is saying that his god has deliberately created some human beings “unto dishonour,” it strikes me that Paul’s god is rather deranged, certainly not rational, and itself not perfect (for a perfect creator would not deliberately create something “unto dishonour”). The idea that we are created either “unto honour” or “unto dishonour” by a supernatural being can only mean that we are here to serve someone else’s ends, which essentially reduces us to slaves. And many Christians in fact believe this: we are either slaves to their god, or to the devil it created for no rational purpose. Even worse, Christian claims make it clear that we are essentially puppets of their god. Greg Bahnsen, for instance, in his radio debate with George H. Smith, declares, “…I’ve got a heavenly father who created the entire universe and controls every detail, even to the hairs on my head…” According to the Christian worldview, we are all under the insuperable control of an invisible magic being. This amounts to what I have called the cartoon universe premise of theism. So to say on the one hand that the Christian god “controls every detail,” but then say that man chose to “create evil,” is to affirm two horns of a contradiction. So-called “compatibilist” theories which are deliberately contrived to untangle this problem ring hollow and are entirely unconvincing. Indeed, they appear to have been concocted entirely for the purpose of trying to conceal this contradiction.

The claim that the creation of evil “was man’s choice” seems to overlook another important aspect of Christian doctrine. According to the gospels and other NT documents, there exist demons and devils, invisible supernatural beings which are evil and look for ways to cause havoc on human beings, particularly “the elect.” Were these demons and devils created by any human being? Of course not; human beings don’t create supernatural entities. So according to Christianity, no human being had a choice in the existence of these malicious supernatural beings. Even in the case of the serpent in the Garden of Eden which tempted Adam and Eve, neither Adam nor Eve created the serpent. So the existence of these menaces could not be man’s doing, and therefore that they exist (as according to Christianity they do) could not be man’s fault. Why isn’t their creator to be faulted for creating them? Wells makes a topical point on this matter: “The most important task of such a theology [as derived from gospel exorcism accounts and related material] would, I suggest, be to explain why an all-powerful and all-benevolent deity permits legions of supernatural entities to practice untold evil.” (The Jesus Myth, p. 170.) Apologists, perhaps recognizing the incoherence of blaming human beings at this point, may take the position that their existence is all part of their deity’s “perfect plan.” One could say this about any deity one imagines. The question at this point is how any imperfection could have a place in a “perfect creation” or a “perfect plan”?

Perfection is not a work in progress, and as such, it seems that it would be an unchanging state. Something in motion is either in motion toward a goal, or toward no goal. If it is in motion toward a goal, that can only mean that the goal has not yet been met. If the goal has not been met, we have a condition of incompleteness. If something is in motion toward no goal, and yet it is ultimately in the control of a volitional agent (cf. Van Til’s claim that “God controls whatsoever comes to pass,” The Defense of the Faith, p. 160), then we have a volitional agent which controls things to move for no particular purpose, for the sake of achieving no goal. Such action would be arbitrary, for there would be no objective criterion behind the choice to move it; it would be choice divorced from goal-achievement. Neither condition would qualify as a perfect state.

But going back to our question – namely whether or not Adam was, according to Christianity, created perfect – it is important to keep in mind that Christianity clearly and explicitly puts the blame for the existence of evil in the world squarely on the shoulders of Adam (and the rest of humankind as some kind of inheritance). This view is sufficient to give us a clue as to whether or not Adam was created perfect. We saw above that “evil is an illusion created by a wrong choice,” and “that choice was man’s choice.” (That Adam is not specifically named here is no accident; all human beings are said by Christianity to be guilty of a choice made by one man.) This choice was made by Adam in the Garden after being tempted. A man’s choices, particularly those made apart from the duress of emergency situations, follow from his judgment. I see no indication in the Genesis story which suggests that Adam was under any duress when he chose to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. On my reading of the story, this was not a choice made in the heat of an emergency. Consequently, if Adam’s choice to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil was “a wrong choice,” this could only mean that Adam’s choice to do so was not governed by perfect judgment. A volitional creature which makes any choice not governed by perfect judgment would clearly be a defective creature, assuming perfection as the operative standard. The conclusion here is inescapable: Adam was created without perfect judgment. He had at best imperfect judgment. Which means: Adam was not a perfect creature. And tracing this defect back to its creator, the conclusion that Adam’s creator was not a perfect creator, is also inescapable. Had Adam been created with perfect judgment, he would not have made a “wrong choice”; any choices he made would have been in line with his perfect judgment.

So clearly Christians must be wrong to suppose that Adam was created perfect, for his most infamous act is characterized by choice governed by imperfect judgment. And if Adam was created imperfect, as the story of his fall clearly and unequivocally implies, then it would be entirely wrong to call Adam’s creator a perfect creator. It does reason no justice to blame the faults of a perfect creator’s creations on its creations themselves, without considering the involvement of the originating source. A perfect creator would, by definition, create perfect creations; otherwise, it is a violation of the concept ‘perfect’ to call it “perfect.”

by Dawson Bethrick

[1] Van Til does not seem to be wholly consistent on whether Adam was created perfect or not. In the same book, he goes on record to acknowledge as a "fact" that "[man's] being, as finite, was inherently defective" (The Defense of the Faith, p. 160). It would be conceptually incoherent to call something "perfect" and yet at the same time admit that it is "inherently defective."

Off to Asia!

I'm heading off to sunny SE Asia this weekend for a few weeks, and may have only intermittent access to e-mail and the web. So things might get a little quiet around here. In the meantime, here's a question for everyone to ponder:

Was Adam created perfect?

Answer when I return!

Have fun, and play nicely!

Best regards,
Dawson

Do Objectivists Try to "Define God out of Existence"?

In the comments section of my blog The Inherent Subjectivism of God-belief, David Parker made some interesting comments which provide me an opportunity to make some important points.

David wrote:

I really don't have a problem saying that if the Christian God exists, He does so with a subjective relationship to all of the objects He created.

At least David seems to get the argument which I presented in my blog. That’s good! Logically, then, David should have no problem with the assessment that his theism conceives of the world subjectively, for this is a direct outcome of theism. As Paul Manata once conceded, “reality is subjective” because it’s “based on the divine mind.” This statement invites problems of its own, of course, since it can only suggest that the “divine mind” on which “reality” is “based” could itself not be part of reality, which would mean that it’s not real.

Also, as I pointed out in the same blog, there are three principal expressions of the primacy of consciousness: the personal, the social and the cosmic (this latter category would include the theistic notion of a invisible supernatural über-consciousness). In the end, however, not only are all three variants of the same metaphysical perspective, the two latter variants (the social and the cosmic versions of the primacy of consciousness) ultimately reduce to the former – the personal version. That’s because the notion in question must originate somewhere, and we always find that it originates with human individuals, such as those who claim to have some means of knowledge other than reason by which they “know” what they claim. So while theists may affirm the cosmic version of the primacy of consciousness in the claims they make about their god, those claims are ultimately based on the presupposition, in one form or another, that one’s own consciousness holds metaphysical primacy over reality.

David wrote:

My problem is when Objectivists insist that what is true of human consciousness must necessarily be true of divine consciousness.

Just to be clear, this is not the Objectivist’s problem; it’s David’s problem. Also, another point of clarification is necessary here. Objectivists do not affirm the existence of “divine consciousness,” so they do not make the claim that “what is true of human consciousness must necessarily be true of divine consciousness.” Since the notion of “divine consciousness” represents a total departure from the realm of existence (as I pointed out above, even Paul Manata’s quoted statement indicates this), the concepts ‘true’ and ‘false’ do not legitimately apply. In the fake environment of the imagination, the believer can claim anything he wants is the case, for his imagination, which he enacts volitionally, calls the shots in that environment. For instance, in the case of theism, the theist can imagine a consciousness which creates its objects ex nihilo, assigns them their natures, revises them, causes them to act, etc., all at will. He can imagine a consciousness to whose intentions reality conforms itself. For the Objectivist, what the theist imagines is ultimately neither here nor there, since it’s all imaginary. Objectivists typically are not going to say, for example, that the theist needs to adhere to the primacy of existence in his imaginary scenarios.

When it comes to validating his god-belief claims, however, the theist himself cannot get around the primacy of existence, which he invokes, knowingly or not, any time he makes a truth claim. Truth necessarily presupposes the primacy of existence, for to say that some state of affairs is true is implicitly to say that it is the case whether anyone recognizes it or not, that it is the case independent of anyone’s consciousness. To claim otherwise is to say that truth has no objective basis. And to acknowledge the primacy of existence in one’s own relationship to reality while affirming the existence a consciousness which holds metaphysical primacy over reality, would only undercut any statement he makes about reality, since he is positing the existence of another consciousness, one presumably outside his own control, which could revise reality at will and without advance notice. At best, he could only make tentative assessments of reality, and these would only be as reliable as a game of chance. Typically, however, theists posture their claims with far more assuredness than their duplicitous metaphysical presuppositions could possibly allow. Either way, however, the theist makes use of a principle (the primacy of existence) while affirming the existence of something which allegedly operates on a contradictory notion (the primacy of consciousness). He is in effect borrowing from an objective orientation in order to affirm something imagined to enjoy a subjective orientation, which results in a contradiction at the most fundamental level of cognition. What justifies such contradiction? Blank out.

David quoted Ayn Rand:

… the basic metaphysical issue that lies at the root of any system of philosophy [is] the primacy of existence or the primacy of consciousness… The primacy of existence (of reality) is the axiom that existence exists, i.e., that the universe exists independent of consciousness (of any consciousness), that things are what they are, that they possess a specific nature, an identity. The epistemological corollary is the axiom that consciousness is the faculty of perceiving that which exists - and that man gains knowledge of reality by looking outward. The rejection of these axioms represents a reversal: the primacy of consciousness - the notion that the universe has no independent existence, that it is the product of a consciousness (either human or divine or both). The epistemological corollary is the notion that man gains knowledge of reality by looking inward (either at his own consciousness or at the revelations it [allegedly] receives from another, superior consciousness). Philosophy: Who Needs It, (New York: Signet, 1984), pp. 23-34.

David then quoted Eric Johnson’s review of chapter one of Leonard Peikoff’s book Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand:

Since the nature (identity) of consciousness is to be aware of reality, existence is prior to, necessary for, and not subject to the control of, consciousness. As a rephrasing of more basic axioms, the principle could be said as "It is....whether you want it to be or not.". In essence, the point is that consciousness, in and of itself (barring physical action) does not change existence.

David then stated:

Now we can both agree that with respect to humans, there is strong evidence that our consciousness cannot alter the identify of any of its objects without physical action.

Indeed, there is overwhelming evidence for this, and after studying the issue for over 16 years, I have yet to see any evidence to the contrary. I am wholly convinced that the primacy of existence is absolute, exceptionless, undefeatable. The theist may say that’s fine for me, but supposes that there are justifiable reasons for affirming the primacy of consciousness, even in the case of his god. Unfortunately, the very idea of a position having “justifiable reasons” itself assumes the primacy of existence, for it makes “an objective claim on our credence, and not as a truth created by him who utters it” (David Kelley, The Evidence of the Senses, p. 34). In essence, one would have to assume the truth of the primacy of existence in order to deny it or affirm something which allegedly defies it. The result would be a self-contradictory metaphysical viewpoint, a very poor basis for a worldview, a theory of truth, an understanding of logic, a system of values, etc.

Also, it should be pointed out that the primacy of existence does not apply only to human consciousness. The primacy of existence applies in the case of non-human animal consciousness as well. In fact, in every instance of consciousness we find in nature, the primacy of existence obtains. When a cat, a horse, a chipmunk or wolverine dies, for instance, thus no longer being conscious of the world, the world does not vanish out of existence; it goes on. Existence still exists. However, there’s nothing that will stop someone from imagining that a consciousness “outside of nature” enjoys the opposite relationship, if he’s so inclined. Unfortunately for such individuals, I have already shown how supernaturalism finds its basis in imagination and is consequently inherently subjective as well.

David continued:

But what evidence is there that this applies with respect to a divine consciousness?

Either this question is utterly irrelevant, or it’s both question-begging and fallaciously complex. First, if by “divine consciousness” one means what Rand understood by this term – essentially something imaginary (“an isolation of actual characteristics of man combined with the projection of impossible, irrational characteristics which do not arise from reality” – Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology, p. 148) – then obviously the question of “what evidence is there that this applies with respect to divine consciousness” would be completely moot. If Rand is correct in her assessment of the notion of “a divine consciousness” (and I’m fully convinced she is), the Objectivist position that the universe is not the product of any consciousness – “either human or divine or both” – is unimpeachably secured.

On the other hand, if by “a divine consciousness” one has in mind something that he believes actually exists – as theists claim to believe – then David’s question is epistemically premature, for it assumes the truth of what is in question, namely the claim that “a divine consciousness” exists. In fact, David’s question seems to assume the existence of “a divine consciousness” without any attempt to establish it. In earlier discussions with David, he has pointed to arguments intended to establish the existence of such a thing (namely Alvin Plantinga’s Two Dozen (Or So) Theistic Arguments which is a set of “lecture notes” that are in places so rough that they are sometimes almost incoherent). Unfortunately, none of these arguments deal with the issue of metaphysical primacy, so they are fundamentally disadvantaged when it comes to Objectivist challenges to theism. For instance, none of Plantinga’s arguments make any attempt to reconcile the acceptance of two opposing (i.e., contradictory) metaphysical orientations, the objective (in the case of human consciousness) and the subjective (in the case of “a divine consciousness”). It’s quite possible, in fact, that theists may think there’s no need to reconcile such contradictions, even though for the theist they occur at the very foundation of his worldview. That’s probably because they haven’t given this issue much if any thought.

At any rate, before we can ask “what evidence is there that [the primacy of existence] applies with respect to a divine consciousness,” we must first ask: what evidence is there for such a thing in the first place? For if it is not possible to establish as an objective fact the existence of “a divine consciousness” in the first place, then the question of what orientation said consciousness has between itself as a subject and any objects of its awareness would be, again, completely moot. Thus David’s question is fallaciously complex, for it essentially requires us to assume that “a divine consciousness” exists in order to gather evidences pertaining to what its conscious orientation might possibly be.

Now, I know of no actually existing “divine consciousness.” I’ve heard claims about such things throughout my life, and for a while (in my misguided youth) I even tried to believe some of them. In the end, however, I made an explicit decision to be honest, and in so doing I had to confront the fact that my god-belief rested on the props of the imaginary through and through. I realized that religion captivates the believer unwittingly by invading his imagination and affecting his emotional life, thus seizing control his cognition. As a result, I eventually came to realize that theistic apologists seem wholly unable to explain how one can reliably distinguish between what they call “God” and what may really only be imaginary. This is because, as believers, their cognition has been hijacked by a series of mind-game devices which sabotage their ability to make such distinctions consistently in the first place. At one time this was my affliction, but the choice to be honest coupled with a worldview which is firmly grounded in the primacy of existence showed me the way back to reality. It’s no wonder to me why theists have such resentment for Objectivism.

Sadly, even when it is shown to theists that their god-belief is inherently subjective, they still insist that their imaginary deity exists all the same. But notice the conundrum in which the theist finds himself here. To affirm the existence of such a thing would performatively assume the truth of the primacy of existence. In effect, he is saying that his god exists whether or not anyone acknowledges its existence. I.e., he is saying that it exists independent of anyone’s conscious intensions. Thus he makes use of the primacy of existence. But then notice the nature of what he is claiming: that there exists a consciousness which enjoys precisely the opposite relationship with its objects as that which the theist’s own pronouncements performatively assume. He gives no indication of what could possibly justify such a move, but it’s clear that, to be consistent, any justification he could give would have to adhere to the primacy of existence, since he has already acknowledged that the primacy of existence applies in the case of his own conscious relationship to the world. Theists at this point typically throw their arms up and say, “Well, I have no problem with God having a subjective relationship to all the objects he’s created.” But that’s not an argument, nor is it a justification. It’s simply an autobiographical admission to intellectual default on the matter. He’s tacitly saying that, yes, there is an irresolvable contradiction here, but finds it acceptable.

David asked:

Do Objectivists just assume this and move on?

Objectivists do not believe there is such a thing in reality as “a divine consciousness” in the first place. So I doubt any of them would assume that the primacy of existence applies to “a divine consciousness,” since there is no such thing.

David then stated:

If so, then this still looks like defining God out of existence to me. Especially when one argues that God's existence is metaphysically impossible precisely because of violating said axiom.

Well, since (as I pointed out above) Objectivists are not assuming that the primacy of existence applies to “a divine consciousness” (they recognize that theism is committed to the primacy of consciousness, which is why they reject it), then the condition on which David’s conclusion here depends, does not obtain. Objectivists do not “define God out of existence,” nor are they “setting out” to do so. It’s not the case that Objectivists start out with the assumption that there is a god and then try to gerrymander their terms so that denial of its existence is plausible or justified. To accuse Objectivists of “defining God out of existence” not only construes (uncharitably, I might add) Objectivists as ungrateful housekeepers shooing a fly out of their home, it also mischaracterizes Objectivist epistemology. Objectivists see no good reason to suppose a god does exist, and they also see many reasons why the notion of a god is contrary to objective reality (such as the inherent subjectivism of theism, which I have soundly established and which David seems to accept, given his initial statement above).

I suspect David’s charge also hinges on an unfamiliarity with the Objectivist conception of possibility. While some worldviews adopt the ‘conceivability model’ of possibility (which essentially equates “possible” with “imaginable”), Objectivism holds to the objective model of possibility. (For details, see Peikoff, Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, pp. 175-179.) Quite simply, on the objective view, there is no justification for the claim that “a divine consciousness” is metaphysically possible. It’s already been shown that theism is inherently subjective, which means theism rules itself out of any objective consideration. So it’s not an act of “defining God out of existence,” but rather a consistently rational integration of the relevant data, an impeccably logical conclusion, which tells us that “a divine consciousness” is metaphysically impossible. Our conclusion is fully consistent with the primacy of existence, which we know to be true (as David concedes, “with respect to humans”), in both content (facts gleaned from reality) and methodology (by an objective process).

Meanwhile, the theist is unable to produce any validation for affirming the primacy of consciousness in his god-belief which is compatible with the primacy of existence as the proper orientation of his own consciousness. Notice, for instance, that David acknowledges the truth of the primacy of existence “with respect to humans,” which would presumably include David himself. So if it’s the case that the objects of David’s consciousness do not conform to his conscious intensions, then we can reasonably suppose that truth does not conform to David’s conscious intensions either (unless of course David is willing to admit that, on his worldview, truth has no objective basis, which would be impossible to reconcile with his admission that the primacy of existence applies “with respect to humans”). Consequently, David’s epistemology, if it is to produce reliable results, would itself have to adhere to the primacy of existence every step of the way in all his thinking. For instance, he would not be able reasonably to say his god-belief claims are true because he wants them to be true any more than he could reasonably say that reality conforms to his wishing. So how does he infer the existence of a consciousness which holds metaphysical primacy over its objects? Or does he infer it at all? This is unclear to me. When asked to identify his starting point, David responded with the statement “The Bible is the Word of God,” which could only mean that he assumes his god’s existence from the very outset. Where David objects to Objectivists for allegedly “defining God out of existence,” one could quite consider the attempt to bundle one’s god-belief into his starting point as, to quote Justin Hall, “a case of defining god into existence.” (Emphasis added)

An even greater irony which lurks behind David’s charge that Objectivists aim to “define God out of existence,” has to do with the pervasiveness of the primacy of existence in human cognition. Suppose for a moment that Objectivists do try to “define God out of existence.” What would David have against this? Could it be that it would violate the primacy of existence? Think about it: the objection that one may be “defining God out of existence” charges the accused with presuming that reality will conform to his conscious intensions. Essentially, he’s saying that the accused doesn’t want to acknowledge the existence of something and is consequently trying to “define it out of existence” on an ad hoc basis, as if reality would somehow snap into obedience and adjust itself accordingly. Now obviously, if one were to proceed on such a basis, as if reality conformed to one’s consciousness, he would be defying the primacy of existence. But what could someone who worships a consciousness which defies the primacy of existence possibly have against defiance of the primacy of existence?

For theists, the question boils down to: on what basis can we affirm a position which, like theism, assumes the metaphysical primacy of consciousness? Can we affirm this on the basis of the primacy of existence? While it is the case that we need the primacy of existence to affirm any statement as true of reality, the problem here is that the primacy of existence and the primacy of consciousness are contradictory to each other. The presence of assumptions granting metaphysical primacy to consciousness would cancel out any thoughts attempting to ground themselves on the primacy of existence. In attempting such a compromise, one would short-circuit his own thinking by undercutting any claim to objectivity. So this wouldn’t work. Could we affirm such a position on the basis of the primacy of consciousness? But we already know that the primacy of existence applies in human cognition. Unfortunately, the theist is stuck here. There is no escape.

by Dawson Bethrick

The Inherent Subjectivism of God-belief

Recent discussions with Christian visitors to my blog in the comments sections of Could the Christian God be Rational? and Another Response to David: The Anatomy of Legend and the Ruse of Revelation, confirm that ignorance and misunderstanding of the Objectivist rationale for rejecting theism is widespread. In this post I hope to shed some light on common errors Christian apologists might make in responding to Objectivist atheology. In future posts, I plan to interact directly with some more sophisticated efforts to answer Objectivist challenges to theism. In the present post I will focus on the comments which have been made on my blog, specifically to the effect that Christian god-belief avoids the charge of subjectivism.

In a comment dated 14 December 2008, David Parker asked:

You charge theists with metaphysical subjectivism based on the notion that existence should depend on some consciousness (human or divine). Now from reading some previous posts, I see that existence is defined as the sum of existents, which I agree with. But wait, if God exists then He does so necessarily and without dependence on any consciousness. So my question: How does that violate the primacy of existence if an existent, specifically God, is not the result of consciousness?

Similarly, Drew Lewis stated:

I believe that God exists objectively and based on no subjective cause. He didn't create Himself. I do believe that whatever else exists is created by Him.

In both cases, the objection here is that Christian god-belief is not subjective because it holds that the Christian god did not create itself. Now it’s well and good that a system of god-belief holds that its god did not create itself. Unfortunately, this does not sanitize god-belief from its inherent subjectivism. The Objectivist argument which I defend is not that god-belief is subjective because its god allegedly created itself. Rather, the argument is that god-belief is subjective because it ascribes metaphysical primacy to a subject (e.g., “God’s will”) over any and all of its objects, regardless of whether or not that subject is said to have created itself. That is where the root of subjectivism lies in the Christian worldview: in the relationship between its god as a subject and any objects distinct from itself.

To probe this matter, let’s ask some questions.

1. Is this god conscious?

Typically theists think of their god as a conscious being. It is supposed to know things, communicate, feel certain emotions (e.g., anger, wrath), desire things, issue commandments, plan things in advance, judge, etc. All of these activities presuppose consciousness because they involve conscious activity, so it would be strange if a theist denied consciousness to his god. The Westminster Confession of Faith says of the Christian god, among other things, that it is “most wise,” “most loving,” and “work[s] all things according to the counsel of His own immutable and most righteous will.” So while Christianity’s formal declarations about the nature of its god may not explicitly state that it is supposed to be a conscious being, the fact that the faculty of consciousness is ubiquitously implied by many of the attributes ascribed to its god is unmistakable and undeniable. So in assembling an argument which addresses the claim that the Christian god is supposed to be a Christian god, the Objectivist is in no way mischaracterizing Christian theology. One only needs to go by what Christians themselves claim about their god.

Now let us ask:

2. What is the orientation between the Christian god as a subject of consciousness and the objects of its consciousness?

Since, as we saw above, the Christian god is supposed to possess consciousness, the question as to the orientation between the Christian god as a subject of consciousness, and its objects, is a fair question. In fact, it is one which theists should be prepared to address explicitly. To understand what this question is asking, let us identify the proper orientation in the relationship between man’s consciousness and the objects of which he is aware. The orientation which we have between subject and object is characterized by the primacy of existence: the objects of our consciousness hold metaphysical primacy over the subject of our consciousness. This means that the objects of our consciousness do not conform to our conscious intensions, but rather that the proper function of our consciousness is to conform to its objects. The primacy of existence means primacy of the object in the subject-object relationship. It is from this principle that we get our concept of objectivity.

Tom Porter clarifies the meaning of the primacy of existence principle when he writes:

The primacy of existence means both the absolute metaphysical independence of existence from cognition, and the absolute metaphysical priority of existence over cognition. It means the abject subordination of cognition to existence, the utter dependence of knowledge on its objects. (Ayn Rand’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 197)

According to this principle, then, an object is what it is, independent of what we know about it, or even if we don’t know anything about it. It is what it is, even if we are mistaken about it. An object will not alter or rearrange itself in order to conform to our errors or deficiencies in knowledge. To know an object, our cognition must conform to the object, both in our rudimentary awareness of it (e.g., I must turn my head to see the clock on the wall behind me) and in our identification of it (e.g., if both hands are pointed to 12:00, I would not insist that it indicates that it’s 4:30). In other words, to know an object, we need to gather information from the object itself. But the implications of the primacy of existence do not stop there. It tells us that objects do not conform to our conscious activity.

For example, suppose I see a stapler on my desk. My seeing the stapler does not bring the stapler into existence. It exists independent of my perception of it, my awareness did not cause it to exist. Now if I wish that the stapler be full of staples when in fact it has already run out, my wishing will not automatically reload it so that it is full again. Wishing does not have this power, and that is because the objects of consciousness hold metaphysical primacy over consciousness. If I want the stapler reloaded, I would have to physically reload it, and I could do this only if I have a set of staples to put into it. I could command that the stapler levitate itself to my hand if it is out of my reach, but will the stapler obey my command? No, it won't. Again, it exists independent of my conscious activity. I could imagine that the stapler is really an Asian elephant, but does my imagination turn the stapler into an elephant? No it does not: it remains a stapler all the same, and that’s because existence holds metaphysical primacy over consciousness, the objects of consciousness are what they are regardless of conscious activity. I could forget that my stapler is on my desk. But when I turn around, it’s still there. Why? Because it exists independent even of my forgetfulness, too. I could continue this experiment and test other conscious functions, but the result will always be the same: existence exists independent of consciousness. The primacy of existence cannot be defeated.

Now does this principle, the primacy of existence, characterize the orientation which the Christian god is supposed to enjoy between itself as a conscious subject and any objects in its awareness? It’s hard to see how a theistic believer would think so. A brief look at the Christian god’s career, as described in the bible, is sufficient to settle this question definitively. One need look no further than the opening verses of the book of Genesis, where we read that the god it describes “created the earth and the heaven.” Christians typically take this act of creation by their god to be comprehensive. For instance, Cornelius Van Til gives us the following statement:

Christianity holds that God is the creator of every fact... God’s thought is placed back of every fact. (Christian Theistic-Evidences, p. 88; quoted in Bahnsen, Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 378)

Christians usually describe their god’s creation of the universe as an act of will. Again we have Van Til, who wrote:

God wills, that is, creates the universe. God wills, that is, by his providence controls the course of development of the created universe and brings it to its climax. (“Apologetics,” 1959)

Elsewhere Van Til wrote:

We now know that the world exists simply because God wills it. (“The Election of All Men in Christ,” The Great Debate Today, 1970)

Or, as one source puts it:

Fact: God willed the universe into being. Fact: He willed the universe into being by simply speaking it into existence instantaneously. References: Psalm 33:6,9 Psalm 148:5 Hebrews 11:3 Thought: He did not have to speak in order to create, but He did. God could have just thought the universe into being. Instead, He spoke it into being. He used His word to create.

Similarly, apologist Douglas Wilson, in his article The Metaphorical Word, writes:

God spoke the created universe into being. God the Father "God-the-Son-ed" light, and there was light. God the Speaker Worded the heavens and the earth, and so they came to be.

In addressing the question What Do Christians Believe? Answering Islam’s Terrell Smith states:

God is Creator of everything, this vast universe. All was created by His Word. He spoke it into being. It is written: (Genesis 1:3) And God said... and it was so. His Word is powerful... God's Word spoke the universe into being. His Word is powerful beyond our comprehension.

Likewise, in answer to the question Can you explain why God created the universe? Christian author Mike Scott writes:

All things came into being through the will of God. It was God's pleasure that the universe and everything in it be created.

And lastly, Jack Cottrell, in his Sovereignty and Free Will, explains:

God's will is the final and exclusively determinative power of whatsoever comes to pass. The nature of any created thing is what it is because of an act of determination in relation to it on the part of God.

In terms of essentials, all these sources are in agreement: a conscious subject holds metaphysical primacy over its objects. Here we can see this clearly when the Christian god is said to create the objects of its own consciousness by an act of consciousness, either by simply willing them into existence, speaking them into existence, commanding them into existence, etc. It not only creates its own objects, it assigns them their identity as well: things are what the Christian god chooses them to be.

Additionally, it can alter the identity of anything it created at will as well. For instance, in the second chapter of the gospel of John, we read about Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana. Here Jesus, as the incarnated god of Christianity, turns water into wine by an act of will. The water, as the object of the Christian god’s consciousness, obeys the intensions of the knowing subject. Every object obeys its commands. The waters of the Red Sea part upon its command; a few fishes and loaves of bread are multiplied to feed thousands upon its command; the earth quakes upon its command; dead people rise upon its command, etc.

This is certainly not the orientation between subject and object which man’s consciousness has. Where man’s experience, characterized by the metaphysical primacy of existence, is that the objects remain what they are regardless of what he knows, thinks, wishes, desires, commands or insists on, the Christian god is said to be able control its objects by its own conscious activity. Thus in the case of man the objects of consciousness hold metaphysical primacy over the subject of consciousness (i.e., objectivism), in the case of the Christian god the subject of consciousness is described as holding metaphysical primacy over its objects (i.e., subjectivism). It’s completely irrelevant that Christians claim their god did not create itself. The subjectivism of their god-belief is inherent in the orientation it is said to have between itself and everything distinct from it. As Drew Lewis reminds us, “whatever else exists is created by Him.”

In conclusion, we see that the primacy of existence (objectivism) applies in the case of man, but in the case of the Christian god we have the primacy of consciousness (subjectivism). This is what Christians are asking us to believe: that on the one hand, objects do not conform to consciousness (e.g., wishing doesn’t make it so), while on the other hand objects do conform to consciousness (e.g., wishing does make it so). While the primacy of consciousness is unavoidable for us human beings (e.g., reality will not conform to any human being’s wishes), the Christian wants us to believe that there exists a consciousness which does hold metaphysical primacy over its objects (e.g., reality will conform to wishes). Reality has its constraints, constraints which conscious activity will not be able to alter or overcome. However, in the fake environment of the imagination, an individual can project a consciousness which does overcome these constraints. We can imagine a consciousness which even put those constraints in place to start with, “in the beginning,” and thus has the power to defy them or withdraw them altogether. In its essence, religion is the glorification of an imaginary consciousness possessing precisely this power.

The problem for Christians is simply that they do not want to admit that their god is imaginary. When you point out the fact that their god is only imaginary, they tend to retreat in silence. And there’s a good reason why.

by Dawson Bethrick

Could the Christian God Be Rational?

In the comments section of my blog Rival Philosophies of Fact, the question of whether or not the Christian god could be rational arose in discussion.

I wrote:

I’m in agreement with Justin that, on my understanding of what rationality is, neither concept could apply. I can give some fundamental reasons why this is so if you like.

Vytautas:

Why cannot God be rational?

First, we need a proper understanding of what rationality is. Rationality is not just a synonym for “understandable”; the two concepts have very distinct meanings. In fact, understandability presupposes rationality. Besides, there is no reason to multiply concepts meaning the same thing unnecessarily.

Rationality is the commitment to reason as one’s only means of acquiring and validating knowledge, and as his only guide to chosen action. By contrast, irrationality is the reliance on something other than reason (e.g., emotions, astrology, palm-reading, tea leaves, faith in invisible magic beings, etc.) to acquire and/or validate knowledge and guide his choices and actions. In general, rationality is compliance with reason, and irrationality is non-compliance with reason. If you look up ‘rational’ in the dictionary, even here you will find a close connection with reason.

Now reason is the faculty which identifies and integrates perceptual input. This faculty is made possible by the ability to form concepts from perceptual input (and higher concepts from the initial concepts formed on the basis of perceptual input).

It should not be difficult to recognize from this why man needs rationality. He needs rationality because he needs reason. And he needs reason because he needs knowledge in order to live, and reason is how he gets that knowledge. If he does not get the knowledge he needs to live, man will die. Like any living organism, man faces a fundamental alternative: life or death. So if man wants to live, he has no choice but to employ his faculty of reason.

When it comes to the Christian god, however, we have a much different story. The concept of rationality would not apply since the concept of reason could not apply. Take for example the claim that the Christian god is omniscient. It is all-knowing, possessing all knowledge. There’s nothing this god doesn’t know, so we are told. Would it make sense to say such a being is “rational”? Well, again, if rationality is a commitment to reason as one’s only means of acquiring and validating knowledge and his only guide to chosen actions, then clearly it wouldn’t make sense. An omniscient being would have no use for a means of acquiring and validating knowledge, since it is said to already possess all knowledge. There would be no knowledge for it to acquire or validate. Essentially, such a being could not learn. So there’d be no need for it to be committed to reason as its only means of acquiring and validating knowledge, for it already knows everything. To call such a being “rational” in this case would be to say it is committed to something it couldn’t possibly need. So it would be a stolen concept at this point.

Also, since the Christian god is said to be non-physical and bodiless, it wouldn’t have any sense organs. It wouldn’t have eyes, ears, a tongue, a nose, skin. It wouldn’t have nerve cells, a spine (yes, the Christian god is spineless), or a brain (yes, it’s brainless, too). Because it lacks sense organs, a nervous system and a brain, it would not have awareness via senses. Consequently, it would not have perceptual input from external stimuli, such as when we see an apple, a grove of trees, a baby, a city skyline. Consequently, it would have no perceptual input to identify and integrate. This is yet another reason why the Christian god would have no use for reason, and consequently no need to be committed to reason (i.e., rationality). So again, the theist has another stolen concept on his hands when he claims that his god is “rational.”

Another point is that, because the Christian god is said to be omniscient, it would not possess its knowledge in the form of concepts. I have already given my argument for this conclusion here. The point here is that, since reason is a conceptual process, a being which would not have its knowledge in the form of concepts would have no use for it. So to call such a being “rational” is, again, to say that it is committed to something it would have no use for and could not need. So here we have a third count of the fallacy of the stolen concept.

A final point is that, because the Christian god is said to be eternal, indestructible, omnipotent, etc., it would have no need or use for a guide for its choices and actions. Unlike man, who faces a fundamental alternative and can die if he acts on bad choices, the Christian god could do anything, and no harm would come to it. In fact, it could sit idle for all eternity, performing utterly no actions whatsoever, and it would still continue on as what it is just fine.

So these are some reasons why I would say that neither the concept ‘rational’ nor ‘irrational’ would apply to the Christian god. It would be, like a rock on a hillside or an asteroid in the cold of space, wholly arational, and for reasons which are not dissimilar: like the Christian god, rocks and asteroids have neither need nor use for a faculty for acquiring and validating knowledge, nor do they have either need or use for a guide to action. So consequently, they would have no need or use for committing themselves to such a faculty or guide.

by Dawson Bethrick

Thoughts on Recent Comments by Vytautas

Recent comments by Vytautas, an occasional visitor to my blog, prompted some questions on my part, and he was kind enough to offer a reply. I haven’t posted a blog in a while, so I thought I would take this occasion to kill two birds with one stone.

I wrote:

When you say that you disagree in your initial point, are you saying that facts are not objective for anyone?

Vytautas:

Facts are objective for the Christian view as well any other view.

An examination of the Christian worldview does not bear this out, as I have shown. Did you read my blog? Perhaps we’re operating on two different understandings of objectivity. I have explained what I mean by objectivity in my blog. Did you have difficulty understanding it, or do you have a different understanding of what objectivity is that you can provide?

I asked:

Is this itself a fact?

Vytautas:

No, because a statement about the facts in general is not a statement about something objective, since it is subjective.

I’m not sure I follow this. When you say that “because a statement about facts in general is not a statement about something objective,” are you saying that facts in general are not objective? Or are you saying that statements about facts cannot be objective?

I wrote:

And if so, is it not itself an objective fact – i.e., a fact that is impervious to conscious intentions? What is the alternative to objectivity in your view, if not some form of subjectivism?

Vytautas:

We can know things objectively as well as subjectively.

I know that we can know things objectively. Would “God” be something you “know” subjectively?

Vytautas:

Why are there only facts and not statements about the facts?

I think there are statements about facts.

I asked:

Also, when you say that “sense objects are able to affect the mind,” what specifically do you mean by this, and why would you conclude from this that facts are not objective?

Vytautas:

A sense objects are identified by the senses, and the mind passively takes in information about the object. The passive act of apprehending an object affects the mind, but if the mind does not sense the object, then the object cannot be identified. I deny that facts are not objective.

I’m still not clear on what you mean by objects “affecting” the mind. Now it is true that if a mind does not perceive an object, it will not identify that object. However, sense objects are identified, not by the senses, but by the faculty of reason (specifically through conceptual integration). This is not a passive process. Conceptual integration is an active process. Perception is also an active process, but unlike conceptual integration, perception is not a *volitional* process, it is physiological, automatic. Both are active processes. What they do not do is *create* or *alter* the objects involved. The objects remain what they are regardless of who perceives them, how often they are perceived, what one calls them, or how one might miscategorize them. That’s the primacy of existence: the objects of consciousness exist and are what they are independent of conscious activity. In the case of a god, however, whose will is said to possess the power to create objects “ex nihilo” (i.e., not from materials which already exist) and alter them according to its preferences and wishes, the primacy of existence does not hold. On the contrary, what we have here is the primacy of consciousness: objects exist and are what the ruling consciousness wants them to be. On this view, existence conforms to consciousness. It is a complete reversal of the primacy of existence. The outcome from such a view is that facts could not be objective, since they conform to the stipulations of a subject which allegedly has power to bring them into existence and reshape them at will. The Van Til quote which I gave in my blog confirms precisely this.

I wrote:

How does that follow? It sounds like you’re suggesting that the mind functions optimally if there are no sense objects to begin with to “affect the mind.” Anyway, some clarity on what you were trying to say here would be helpful, because as it stands now it’s vague and unsubstantial.

Vytautas:

A mind has an intellect and a will. The intellect passively takes in information of the sense object, but the will must operate on the sense data to make it understandable.

Again, I do not think that the mind passively takes in information, since perception (the means by which we have awareness of objects existing independent of us) is an active process. You seem to agree that the mind does volitionally process that information, but when you say that “the will must operate on the sense data to make it understandable,” what specifically do you mean here? What operation does the will perform on the sense data?

Vytautas:

If the facts are not objective, then all of reality as we perceive it would be subjective.

Ultimately this is the nature of reality as Christianity would have us believe, since it is a creation of consciousness and everything within it conforms to someone’s will. You can’t get more subjective than that.

I asked:

When you say that “God does not change [the fact that JF Kennedy died Nov. 22, 1963] in space-time because he [planned] this since the foundations of the world,” specifically which fact are you talking about that your god "does not change"? That JFK is dead? Or that he died on a specific date?

Vytautas:

It is the fact that the assassination happened in history. The event is not repeatable because it all ready happened. Even if JFK rose from the dead, that fact would be a different from the historical fact. So the same historical event cannot happen twice.

Well, if you say so. I’ve heard other Christians make conflicting intimations as they seem to grant wider latitude to the notion of “God’s sovereignty,” sometimes even making much of the claim that the Christian god exists “out of time.” Indeed, if I believed in an omnipotent being which is supposed to have created the whole universe and is said to rule over everything within it with a sovereign will, I don’t know why I would believe that it could not change history once it’s been made. What would prevent it from doing this?

I asked:

You claim that “only an irrational god” would change whichever fact is in question here, but why?

Vytautas:

It is because an irrational god would change its plan when it is carried out.

Who said anything about changing a plan? Maybe the plan included resurrecting JFK, revising the date of his assassination, or deleting it from history, all along. I see no reason why a change of plan would be needed for any of these options. It would be very easy for an omnipotent god to do this, I would think. It could also make it “understandable,” at the very least to itself, thus satisfying your criterion of rationality (see below). It would also be very easy to claim that it had planned such things from the very beginning.

Vytautas:

An irrational god does not plan everything in advance so it does not know everything in advance.

I’m not sure why. Below you say that “irrational” means “not understandable,” but I don’t see anything “not understandable” about the situation you describe here. In fact, just by your description of it, I have understood it. There’s nothing “not understandable” about not planning everything in advance or not knowing everything in advance.

I wrote:

It seems that you would consider anything your god plans and does “rational,” even if it involved resurrecting JFK or revising the date on which he was assassinated.

Vytautas:

God is rational because he plans out history, but an irrational god is captive
to his creation.

I’m trying to integrate this with how you defined ‘rational’ and ‘irrational’ below. So, to go by your definition, you’re saying that “God is [understandable] because he plans out history, but a [not understandable] god is captive to his creation.” Is that what you meant to say? I’m wondering how “rational” your position is, because the more you try to explain it, the harder and harder it is becoming to understand.

Vytautas:

We only know history after the fact. So we don’t know if God will resurrect JFK, but he will not revise the date on which he was assassinated because then God would be inconstant with what he has decreed.

If the Christian god had planned to revise the date on which JFK was assassinated, it wouldn’t be “inconstant with what he has decreed.” And unless you are the Christian god, you wouldn’t have full knowledge of what it has decreed. Given Christianity’s supernaturalism and its all-powerful, sovereign deity, there’s no reason why it should be supposed impossible that JFK was originally assassinated in 1976 and the Christian god revised the date back to 1963. We wouldn’t know either way unless your god wanted us to know. It seems quite unrealistic, on these presuppositions, for a finite, fallible and non-omniscient creature to say what an infinite, infallible, omniscient and omnipotent deity can or cannot do.

I asked:

Surely you believe that your god is capable of performing both alterations, no?

Vytautas:

I deny that God is capable of performing both alterations, since it would make him irrational.

And according to what you say below, “irrational” is, on your view, apparently just a synonym for “not understandable.” It’s not at all clear why performing one of the alterations mentioned above would preserve your god’s understandability, while performing the other (or both) wouldn’t.

I asked:

And if you believed your god had a purpose for resurrecting JFK or changing the date on which he was assassinated, would you call that “irrational”?

Vytautas:

No

This is a puzzling answer, given your above points. Above you just got through saying that you “deny that God is capable of performing both alterations, since it would make him irrational,” but now you seem to say that having a reason for doing one or the other would not be irrational. You’re losing me.

I wrote:

Justin gave some brief comments on why it’s quizzical at best to ascribe rationality or irrationality to a god’s behavior. I’m wondering if you could clarify what you were trying to say, and what you mean by “rational” and “irrational”.

Vytautas:

’Rational’ means understandable. And ‘irrational’ means not understandable.

I’ve never seen these definitions for these terms before. Is this from the bible? I would say that the doctrine of the trinity would make the Christian god irrational on this definition of ‘irrational’, since the doctrine of the trinity makes it utterly beyond comprehension. Various other Christian doctrines make Christianity as a worldview irrational on this conception of it. For instance, the doctrine of prayer. Jesus is portrayed repeatedly in the gospels telling believers to ask what they want and they’ll get it, because Jesus himself is faithful. But there always seems to be some reason why this fails. (See for instance here.) That’s “not understandable” given the promises we find attributed to Jesus in the New Testament. There’s also the doctrine of the Christian god’s glory. It already is said to possess all glory, but believers are supposed to “give God the glory” as well. Van Til referred to this as “the full bucket problem,” and did not have any clear (“understandable”) answer to it. I could go on, but by now you should see my point.

Also, on this definition of ‘rational’, I – an atheist, mind you – am rational, because I am understandable (sufficiently so for you to carry on a discussion with me). My worldview, because it is understandable (I certainly understand it), is also rational. But Christian apologists often insist that atheism is irrational (apparently, “not understandable”), even though I understand it, and that a worldview which rejects Christian theism cannot be rational (even though I understand my worldview, which is non-Christian and non-theistic).

Vytautas:

God is rational in relation to himself, but God is incomprehensible to man, so that he must reveal himself to man, if we are to know something about God.

I’m confident that one could say such things about anything he has imagined.

by Dawson Bethrick

Rival Philosophies of Fact

Sources on presuppositionalism make it clear that, because of its “methodology” (see for instance here), the question of the Christian god’s existence cannot be settled on the basis of facts. For instance, Cornelius Van Til himself made this crystal clear when he wrote:

It is impossible and useless to seek to defend Christianity as an historical religion by a discussion of facts only. (Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 7)

With resolute pronouncements such as this, what card-carrying presuppositionalist would disagree? Of course, this is the kind of attitude one might expect from a position that cannot be supported by facts in the first place. If appealing to facts is not sufficient to validate a position one holds on the basis of faith, he might as well come out and declare that “a discussion of facts only” is simply the wrong vehicle for substantiating that position. And lo, that’s precisely what Van Til does.

Consider for a moment some of the major tenets of what Christianity teaches, tenets which everyone is expected to accept as factual, but without factual support. For instance, that the Christian deity is real, that it created the universe (“the earth and the heaven”), that it created man in its own image, that it chose a people as its favorites (the ancient Israelites), that it sent its only begotten son to die a horrific death in order to “redeem” anyone who is bamboozled by all these and other teachings of the sacred storybook. If all of these claims are supposed to be factual, why cannot “a discussion of facts only” serve in defending them? Does Van Til think that a discussion of something other than facts is needed to defend “Christianity as an historical religion”? If so, what is this other something?

This is where Van Til raised the issue of which philosophy of facts best equips a thinker to deal with the individual facts he discovers in the world. But we would be wrong to assume that this means that Van Til is actually concerned with preserving the integrity of a fact-based way of looking at the world. On the contrary, his aim here is to hijack the issue of facts and seat it on mystical presuppositions. Hence the name of his apologetic artifice, presuppositionalism.

Now the bible does not lay out any explicit theory of facts. Indeed, it seems not even to speak of facts in any intelligent manner. It certainly does not spell out a philosophy of facts. Its authors were clearly more concerned with invoking the wrath of an invisible magic being, endorsing doctrinal positions on the basis of faith, shaming readers into submission, prostituting their minds and filling their imaginations with horrific fantasies and bizarre teachings. But this is not to say that an implicit understanding of the nature of facts cannot be ascertained from the contents of the bible.

Without a doubt, the biblical worldview characterizes all facts as dependent on the will of its deity. Today’s theologians and apologists are explicit in their affirmation of such characterizations. On this view, facts are created, which means: they do not exist independent of consciousness, in particular of the supernatural consciousness which is claimed to have created them. Consequently, however ‘fact’ is defined by today’s defenders of Christianity, one thing is certain: the biblical portrait represents facts as inherently subjective, that is: they depend on and conform to the dictates of a ruling subject whose say-so is the final court of appeal in determining their nature at any given moment. The Christian “philosophy of fact” is subjective because it assumes the metaphysical primacy of the subject in the subject-object relationship. On this view, facts are whatever the ruling subject wants them to be. This is the essential metaphysical view which underlies the notion that wishing makes it so. In this context, subjectivism is essentially the view that reality, facts and truth are obedient to the dictates of some privileged consciousness.

Contrast the Christian view of facts with the objective theory of facts. Where the Christian view of facts clearly seats facts on the dictates of an omnipotent subject – thus affirming the primacy of the subject in the subject-object relationship, the objective theory of facts is based on the primacy of the object in the subject-object relationship. This theory recognizes that facts are what they are independent of consciousness, of any consciousness, that facts do not bend or reshape themselves in response to wishes, desires, commands, threats, insults, or protestation. It is on the basis of the objective theory of facts that one makes statements such as “wishing doesn’t make it so” or “Mt. McKinley is located in Alaska whether anyone realizes it or not.” According to the objective theory of facts, if facts were actually based on the dictates of consciousness (e.g., will, wishing, preference, etc.), it would not make any sense to affirm anything as factual; all it would take is another consciousness to come along and say it’s not a fact, and reality would obey. For this reason, it should be clear that the Christian is borrowing from a non-Christian conception of facts whenever he makes statements like “God exists even if no one believes it.” For on the Christian view, as we have seen, facts conform to consciousness, which can only mean that facts are not objective according to the Christian view.

Van Til made it clear that, on the Christian view, we cannot rely on facts, for they have no inherent stability whatsoever:

God may at any time take one fact and set it into a new relation to created law. That is, there is no inherent reason in the facts or laws why this should not be done. It is this sort of conception of the relation of facts and laws, of the temporal one and many, embedded as it is in the idea of God in which we profess to believe, that we need in order to make room for miracles. And miracles are at the heart of the Christian position. (The Defense of the Faith, p. 27)

On this view, it may be a fact this moment that Mt. McKinley is located in Alaska. But, since the Christian god “may at any time take one fact and set it into a new relation to created law,” who but the ruling consciousness knows where Mt. McKinley may be in the next moment? The ruling consciousness may decide to relocate it in southern Japan, or Tanzania, or Laos. The flexibility that Van Til reserves for facts in relation to principles of thought certainly affords this.

Now Van Til is explicit in telling us that his worldview needs this kind of facts-in-flux view of things “in order to make room for miracles.” And it’s not just that facts can change at random; since ‘random’ is actually an epistemological concept, the changes that facts undergo in this context would be random so far as the believer is concerned. But this is a mere incidental outcome that the believer has to deal with in his worldview. Even more than this, since this view represents facts as subject to deliberate, intentional change, there would be no identifiable causality to the changes taking place traceable to the nature of the facts themselves. The changes that facts would undergo, on Van Til’s view, would bear no relation to their nature, but depend completely on the whim of an invisible magic being whose “counsel” or “plan” is an utter mystery to the believer. He just has to go along with the flow, imagining that anything and everything that happens around him is being choreographed by a supernatural, reality-ruling consciousness whose exercise of will historically (per the bible at any rate) includes such notable and examples as turning water into wine, enabling men to walk on unfrozen water,

According to the Christian “philosophy of fact,” facts are creations of a supernatural consciousness. On this view, facts are essentially wished into existence by an omnipotent conscious being. This is explicitly held to be the case for all facts. Writes Van Til:

God is the creator of every fact. (Christian Theistic Evidences, p. 88; quoted in Bahnsen, Van Til's Apologetic, p. 378.)

Elsewhere Van Til writes:

The Christian starts his reasoning from the presupposition that what God, through Christ, says in the Scriptures is true. Accordingly all “facts” are God and Christ created and directed to the consummation of history.” (“An Uncertain Sound: An Evaluation Of The Philosophy Of Hendrik Hart,” 1971)

Christian apologist Mike Warren similarly exclaims:

All facts are God-created, God-interpreted facts.” (Christian Civilization is the Only Civilization)

Of course, note that when statements like these are made, they appear as bare assertions, announcements which are to be taken on faith, on authority, on the implied threat of psychological or spiritual sanction. Readers are expected to feel compelled to accept these claims without objective support because they’re supposed to believe that something bad will happen to them – either in the here and now of reality, or in the afterlife which awaits – if they don’t’ accept them.

Now a fundamental problem should be immediately obvious here. The Christian wants us to accept as fact the claim that his god exists. We are also told that, for the Christian, “the most basic fact of all facts is the existence of the triune God” (Common Grace and the Gospel, ch. 1). So it is a fact, we are told, that the Christian god exists. But we are also told that this “God is the creator of every fact,” that “all facts are God-created.” So was the fact that this god exists, also created by this same god? This seems quite illogical. To create anything, a creator-god would first have to exist. A thing cannot create the fact of its own existence. The presuppositionalist must allow an exception to the rule here, but this would split facts into two mutually exclusive categories, thus requiring duplicitous provisions in the Christian theory of facts. It would, in the case of its god’s existence for instance, need to allow for at least some facts to be uncreated. But if any facts can be uncreated, why couldn’t all other facts be uncreated? A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.

Elsewhere Van Til writes

all facts in this universe are under God’s control” (“The Resurrection As A Part Of Christian Truth,” The Banner, 1939, Vol. 74, p. 339)

While this statement focuses on the facts which obtain within the universe proper, the same subordination of those facts to the dictates of the ruling consciousness is maintained. Anything we take as factual in the universe is subject to revision according to the ruling consciousness’ divine whims. According to a rational worldview, It’s a fact that apples come from apple trees. But on the Christian worldview, this is only factual so long as the Christian god desires to keep it that way. It could decide to change this fact, such that apples instead come from cucumber plants or from fish anuses. In the end, on the Christian view, it’s the desires of the Christian god which are absolute, not the facts we discover in reality. Talk about reducing a worldview to absurdity!

But this systemic embrace of absurdity at such a fundamental level of thought does not keep believers today from endorsing it. For instance, in his blog entry What Are the Facts? (Repeat), Gavin Beers quotes Christian apologist R.J. Rushdoony as follows:

For the Christian, all factuality is God-created and the product of His eternal purpose; all facts are thus totally rational, becasue [sic] the mind of God is behind them, and their reality is thus more than physical and natural.

The view expressed here repeats the same major problem for the Christian "philosophy of fact" which we saw above, for it presupposes that for facts to be rational, "the mind of God" must be "behind them." In other words, all facts must have been created by the Christian god. Without this element of having been created by the Christian god, so the reasoning goes, no fact would be intelligible. Again, this can only mean that, if it is a fact that the Christian god exists, either the Christian god created this fact (which, as we saw above, is nonsensical), or qua fact it is unintelligible. This is quite a dilemma for the Christian, but it is unavoidable given the predominant view of facts affirmed in these statements. Since to say that a being created the fact of its own existence would commit the fallacy of the stolen concept (by characterizing such a fact as the product of a creative act, such a claim would require that the fact in question did not obtain prior to its creation, and yet the alleged fact in question is that the creator of all facts exists), the unavoidable implications of the view expressed here render it completely absurd and nonsensical. And yet, this is what can be expected from the Christian “philosophy of fact” that Van Til affirms as essential to his worldview and its proper defense.

The Christian view would then need to affirm two fundamentally different conceptions of facts, one pertaining to uncreated facts (which, per the statements quoted above, are apparently not allowed) and one pertaining to created facts. And even though it’s clear that Van Til and other presuppositionalists do not make such provision, such duplicity would be required in order to stave off the absurd internal implications that have hitherto been identified, and yet it would also create further problems. For analytic philosophers, this view of factuality seems quite a death knell. Facts which have traditionally been taken as “necessary” suddenly become “contingent,” since all facts on the Christian view were “created.” The fact that 2+2=4, for instance, was “created” by the Christian god. Of course, not all Christians would agree with this implication; but given the exhaustive pervasiveness of the presuppositionalists’ assertions, absurdities like this are an unavoidable by-product of the Christian theory of facts.

But the absurdities do not stop there. The problem is bigger than just its implications for the fact that 2+2=4. If facts are dependent upon someone’s will, as the Christian worldview holds, then obviously those facts have no necessary content of their own. Facts, on such a view, are not necessary, but utterly contingent, contingent upon the will of the being said to have the power to create and alter them. On such a basis, one could never claim to really know any facts, for any fact he might claim to know could be altered at any time without his knowing it. Certainly believers do not expect their god to seek their consent or approval before altering any facts it has chosen to alter. One might say, for instance, that it’s a fact that dogs are mammals; but since this fact was “created” by the Christian god and this god can revise it at any time, it could change: dogs could suddenly become reptiles on this view. Christians like to reply to this kind of objection by saying that their god has a rational nature, that it wouldn’t act against its nature, etc., none of which is very convincing against the relief of the sovereignty it is said to possess over the universe and its means of revelation to man via miracles. After all, we can affirm the fact that John F. Kennedy is dead, but the Christian god, if it were real, could resurrect the assassinated president at any time if it wanted to. Again, its wants, desires, wishes and whims hold metaphysical primacy over the domain of factuality. Ironically enough, such responses in essence come across as de facto denials of divine omnipotence: while they claim that their god is omnipotent, it has apparently chosen not to exercise it outside the confines of a self-inflicted straitjacket. Why? Appeals to “divine rationality” ring hollow, since no Christian would say that his god’s miraculous interventions in history, as recorded in the Old and New Testaments, were irrational. Such “rationality” as the Christian conceives of it includes not only the “natural order” of things as we actually perceive them in the world, but also any revision of them (e.g., miracles), however temporary.

And let’s not forget another important doctrine of Christianity: the doctrine of malevolent spirits. While Christians might claim that their god would not transform dogs from mammals into reptiles, who is to say that demons and devils cannot or would not? Indeed, the problem still persists, especially when we factor in the claim that supernatural beings other than just the Christian god are said to lurk “back of” the objects we perceive in the world. Mischievous and nefarious, demons, devils and other spooks are supposed also to inhabit the supernatural realm and wield influence over the “created order”; indeed, the bible itself claims that the leader of these malevolent spirits, Satan, is “the prince of this world” (cf. Jn. 12:31, 14:30, 16:11). As supernatural beings which have the power to take possession of human beings (cf. Mt. 4:24, 8:16, 28, 9:32, 12:22; Mk. 1:32, 5:15-18) and manipulate, deceive, and misguide them, they too have the ability to meddle with man’s efforts to know facts.

So really, what we have in the Christian theory of facts is not fully disclosed by its spokesmen: not only does the Christian god hold metaphysical primacy over the facts of the world, but so do other alleged supernatural beings.

Of course, Christians themselves have shown that, even on their own terms, it is notoriously difficult to distinguish “the supernatural” from the imaginary. I surmise that this is because there is no fundamental distinction between the two. In the end, since Christianity actually asserts the primacy of the supernatural over the realm of facts, believers are really telling us that the imaginary holds metaphysical primacy over the actual, since they claim such primacy on behalf of their imaginary spirits.

Notice how all this systematically destroys any potential for knowledge of the world. If any of these spirits are able to alter the identity of things which exist (such as turning water into wine), or cause them to act against their natures (such as enabling human beings to walk on unfrozen water), who is to say that none of them could alter our memory of the past, or even change history without us knowing it? Surely the Christian god is not bound to the temporal order of the universe, is it? Since the Christian god can at any time, we are told, take any fact and put it into a new relationship with created law, who is to say our memory of things we have done or witnessed could ever be accurate? I remember getting my driver’s license when I was 16 years old, for instance. But if I believed that such a being as the god Christianity describes and worships were real, that memory could be completely false. Maybe I was 18 when I got my license, or 26, or maybe I never got one, or maybe I was born with it already in hand and just don’t know this. Or, it could be true today that I got my license at 16, and false tomorrow, and then true again the next day. What is to stop an omnipotent being from revising the past in such a manner? Does the believer himself presume to be able to stop this? If he says that no one, including the god he claims to worship, can alter the past once it has happened, then clearly he’s telling us that neither his god nor any other being is truly omnipotent, or at any rate that his god has the same relationship to the past that we have. If he says that his god can go back in time and revise history, but simply wouldn’t, then the believer sets himself as the author of his god’s plan: his god does whatever he imagines it does. And of course, what would keep an actually existing sovereign deity from deceiving me into believing that I ever got my driver’s license in the first place, let alone at 16 years old? Blank out.

Avoiding a “direct appeal to facts” is essential to the presuppositional approach to defending Christian theism or settling the debate between believers and non-believers. As Van Til himself states:

The method of reasoning by presupposition may be said to be indirect rather than direct. The issue between believers and non-believers in Christian theism cannot be settled by a direct appeal to “facts” or “laws” whose nature and significance is [sic] already agreed upon by both parties to the debate.(The Defense of the Faith, p. 100)

Here Van Til adds a new qualification to the treatment of facts in his apologetic treatment. He says that the debate between believer and non-believer “cannot be settled by a direct appeal to ‘facts’ or ‘laws’ whose nature and significance is [sic] already agreed upon by both parties to the debate.” Of course, if the believer holds that “God is the creator of every fact” and that “all ‘facts’ are God and Christ created and directed to the consummation of history,” as we have already seen Van Til affirm, while the non-believer (particularly if he subscribes to an objective view of reality) recognizes that facts are not subject to conscious intentions, then there probably is no such agreement between them. On the Christian view, facts are creations of consciousness, open to revision according to divine whim, while on an objective view facts are what they are independent of consciousness, regardless of who likes it, regardless of who disapproves. The two positions are diametrically opposed from their very foundations. And yet, since both the believer and the non-believer live in the same reality, they do in fact have many points of ‘common ground’ in metaphysics, epistemology and ethics, only the believer has a confessional motivation to deny this fact outright, or interpret it in favor of protecting his confessional investment by means of assimilation.

Notice how Van Til puts defining importance on whether or not the nature and significance of facts are “agreed upon by both parties to the debate.” Why should their agreement or disagreement on these things matter if in fact the facts in question are indeed factual? Shouldn’t the fact that they are factual matter more? Apparently not for Van Til. Van Til takes the Christian command to “come out and be ye separate” (II Cor. 6:17) very seriously. It seems that what is of primary importance for Van Til, since he names no facts to begin with, is division between believer and non-believer for the sake of division as such. Agreement with the non-believer is to be avoided at all costs, even at the cost of an objective understanding of facts. The impulse for all this is the believer’s determination to imagine a supernatural consciousness “back of” everything we perceive and discover in the world. Van Til makes this crystal clear when he writes:

I could believe in nothing else if I did not, as back of everything, believe in this God. (“Toward A Reformed Apologetic,” 1972)

Since upholding and defending such imaginations as if they reflected “absolute reality” – a reality that is even more real than the reality in which we live, move and have our being on a daily basis – is of prime importance to someone like Van Til, it’s no surprise that the antithetical divide between himself and those who do not indulge in such imaginations is emphasized like this.

An obvious outcome given Van Til’s stated view is that, if the non-believer disagrees with the believer at any point, this fact itself is a creation of his god. This points right back to the alleged creator of facts as the cause for such disagreement and division. It makes no sense to hold the non-believer accountable for his disagreement with the believer, or for any position he might happen to hold, for if he holds a certain position, on Van Til’s view the fact that he holds it is just another of his god’s creations: his god obviously wanted it this way. The unavoidable implications of determinism serve only to reduce any accountability on man’s part to “God made me do it.” So the common presuppositionalist strategy of urging the non-believer to “account for” his non-belief or any position he might affirmatively take on any issue, is rather farcical: the non-believer only needs to point out that the apologist, according to his own presuppositions, is looking in the wrong place for the explanations he has asked for.

Instead of focusing on any specific facts themselves, Van Til thinks the debate stems from something prior to facts. Van Til explains:

The question is rather as to what is the final reference-point required to make the “facts” and “laws” intelligible. The question is as to what the “facts” and “laws” really are. Are they what the non-Christian methodology assumes that they are? Are they what the Christian theistic methodology presupposes they are? (The Defense of the Faith, p. 100)

Van Til makes it clear that, for his worldview, facts are clearly not primaries. Something takes priority to facts, and logically, whatever this something is that exists before them must be something other than factual, for he makes it clear that there is something which precedes facts. Van Til’s statement here would serve no purpose if that which comes before facts is just another bunch of facts; it must be something other than facts, it must be non-factual. Van Til calls it “the final reference-point,” but does not explicitly state what he means by this in this section of his book. To find clues as to what Van Til means here, we look further in his book:

The final point of reference in all predication must ultimately rest in some mind, divine or human. It is either the self-contained God of Christianity or the would-be autonomous man that must be and is presupposed as the final reference point in every sentence that any man utters. (Ibid., p. 215.)

What Van Til states here supplies a portion of the context missing from his previous statement about the need to identify “the final reference-point required to make the ‘facts’ and ‘laws’ intelligible.” And it is quite clear: for Van Til, “the final-reference point” which makes laws and facts intelligible must be subject in the subject-object relationship, either human or supernatural. So far as I can find, Van Til provides no argument for his view that “the final point of reference in all predication must ultimately rest in some mind, divine or human.” Indeed, it is not entirely clear what exactly this is supposed to mean, so I have little choice but to interpret it literally. A point of reference would, as I understand it, be some object to which one’s identifications (which would include predication) and judgments refer. Van Til may have meant something else (he seems to treat the objects of cognition as unnecessary), but if so I would say that he has expressed himself quite poorly. Even some of Van Til’s own devoted followers have complained about Van Til’s “’torturous English’, his redundant and unclear style, his penchant for sloganeering, and his disorganized presentation of themes” (Michael Butler, “The Transcendental Argument for God’s Existence,” in Schlissel’s The Standard Bearer: A Festschrift for Greg L. Bahnsen, p. 70). Regardless, it seems that Van Til can only mean that, for his “philosophy of fact,” a subject must hold primacy over all objects in order for predication of facts to be possible. From the very outset, this rules out the primacy of objects in the subject-object relationship, which means it rules out all objectivity. On an objective orientation, the “final point of reference” would the facts of reality themselves, beginning with the fact that existence exists, since it is understood on the objective view that facts obtain independent of consciousness; they do not conform to conscious intentions. The “the final point of reference” would not be a mind, as if a mind could dictate what reality consists of or what it should be. A mind needs content, just as consciousness requires an object, and that content must come from somewhere. On an objective view, that content ultimately comes from what is perceived, the objects of awareness; on the theistic view, the mind creates its own content, consciousness creates its own objects.

So what about Van Til’s last questions here? Are facts “what the non-Christian methodology assumes that they are?” Or, “are they what the Christian theistic methodology presupposes they are?” To sort this out, Van Til proposes the following two-step apologetic procedure:

The answer to this question cannot be finally settled by any direct discussion of “facts.” It must, in the last analysis, be settled indirectly. The Christian apologist must place himself upon the position of his opponent, assuming the correctness of his method merely for argument’s sake, in order to show him that on such a position the “facts are not facts and the “laws” are not laws. He must also ask the non-Christian to place himself upon the Christian position for argument’s sake in order that he may be shown that only upon such a basis do “facts” and “laws” appear intelligible. (Ibid., pp. 100-101)

Regarding the second step, I have already noted its parallels to sampling drug use. This step of the presuppositional apologetic very much resembles the kind of tactic an addict might use to goad non-users into the world of substance abuse. “Just try it. Once you do, you’ll see how everything in this crazy world finally makes sense!” I prefer a more scientific route, analyzing the chemical causality of the substance on the brain, thus understanding why the drug alters its users’ behavior so drastically. This is essentially what I have done above, by pointing out how the Christian theory of facts is fundamentally subjective, thus obliterating the very concept ‘fact’ in its destructive wake.

The very last statement Van Til makes is especially curious, given the way he words it. He wants to show the non-believer that “only upon such a basis do ‘facts’ and ‘laws’ appear intelligible.” Van Til’s own pupil, Greg Bahnsen, points out that “the Bible distinguishes between appearance and reality” (Always Ready, p. 181). Even Proverbs 14:12 warns that “there is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.” So in Van Til’s case, while “facts” and “laws” as his worldview conceives of them may appear “intelligible,” his own worldview tells us that this may be only a mirage. Van Til needs to give more assurance than his customary unsupported assertions and catchy slogans to make his case. And given the points we’ve seen so far, such a venture would be hopeless from the very start.

But what about what “the non-Christian methodology” assumes facts to be? Isn’t this racked with problems of its own? Well, it depends on which “non-Christian methodology” we’re talking about. A non-Christian methodology would be any which is not Christian, and there’s lots of those. Most thinkers, regardless of religiosity, do not walk around with a fully developed “philosophy of fact” formulated in their minds. However, in spite of its difficulties, some general features of fact theory can and should be explicitly articulated, specifically with regard to the orientation between subject and object. A philosophy of facts which human beings can apply in their lives must at minimum comply with the primacy of existence, and do so without compromise. Compromising the primacy of existence can only lead, if left uncorrected, to a blurring between reality and fantasy, which is the very bloodline of a mystical worldview (such as Christianity). To my knowledge, Objectivism is the only worldview which identifies the primacy of existence as a fundamental principle guiding human cognition, and which takes it seriously in its effort to develop a worldview consistent with that principle. Given the incontestable truth of this principle, the only philosophy of fact worthy of its name must stand in accordance with the primacy of existence, the essence of the principle of objectivity, for facts are objective, and a worldview dealing in facts must provide understanding of this from its very foundations. At the very least we can conclude that one should not look to Christianity for such principles.

by Dawson Bethrick