It's The End Of A Denomination As We Know It (and I feel fine)

So the Presbyterian Church (USA) has changed their stance on gay marriage and has now voted (with 76% voting for the change) to allow clergy to perform same sex marriages wherever it is legal to do so…. and this apparently is controversial?

Don’t get me wrong; I am a firm believer in the definition of marriage being between one man and one woman. God will not be mocked and this development is another sign of the growing apostasy within the PCUSA denomination. The key word in that last sentence is “another”.

When I first learned of the news that this vote had happened, I was surprised not at the fact that they voted in favor of gay marriages, but that everyone else was surprised. Do we not know the long history of the PCUSA’s practice of throwing out the gospel? And by long history, I mean close to a century. 100 years. To demonstrate my reasoning behind my lack of shock and awe at this, let’s go back in time and see why this “news” is just another tasting of poison in an already terminally cancerous denomination.

In 1936 a man by the name of John Gresham Machen started the Orthodox Presbyterian Church due to the growing acceptance of modernism within. By this time, churches were rejecting the virgin birth, the resurrection of Jesus, the miracles of Jesus etc. Nearly every essential doctrine of the church was being rejected in favor of more social doctrines that were gaining popularity. Even before then there was a clear rejecting of the gospel. In 1922 it was the First Presbyterian Church (Manhattan), a PCUSA church, that allowed Harry Emerson Fosdick to preach what was probably the most liberal sermon ever preached; the aptly titled Shall the Fundamentalists Win? Indeed. The sermon is littered with the familiar language of liberalism. “Tolerance” is the theme of the sermon. Not the classical notion of tolerance, that of loving your neighbor despite disagreement, but of adoption. The sermon argues thoroughly of constantly updating the faith as it moves through time and taking a firm stance on the actual teaching of the apostles is nothing less than intolerance. That was 1922.

Moving ahead, the denomination has not gotten any better. Last year the church dropped In Christ Alone from their hymnals because the authors refused to change the words “The wrath of God was satisfied” to “the love of God was magnified”. The atonement is already an embarrassment to the church.

To further solidify how this new development isn’t really news, the denomination has allowed the ordination of homosexuals since 2011. They ordained their first gay minister, Scott Anderson, in October that same year. Anderson’s own comments on CNN on the ordination are telling:

"I think what's happening in the Presbyterian church is happening also in the Christian church across our nation right now," Anderson told Malveaux. "Our church is recognizing there are a variety of viewpoints on scripture. There's no longer a right viewpoint and a wrong viewpoint but several faithful viewpoints, one of which includes me in terms of being a minister in the Presbyterian church. So we're honoring a diversity of viewpoints in our church."

These are the words of a minister, a leading member of the PCUSA denomination. It is clear, as if it wasn’t back in 1922 and again 1936 that the PCUSA is not a church, as scripture defines it, but a social petri dish where all social experiments are welcome and may find their home and growth. So I must ask, why is this surprising? Is it surprising that gospel-less church does heretical things? Is it surprising that a worldly church behaves worldly?

It’s not that gay marriage is not an important issue. It is. But it would be more shocking, more dreadful, and more worrisome to see this kind of change in gospel centered denominations. It would be a serious concern to see troubling signs and slippery slopes in the PCA or the OPC, denominations that have a long history of teaching and spreading the gospel. The PCUSA is the Mt. Saint Helens of slippery slope activity (or perhaps, Krakatoa, destroying everything around it). So it’s not particularly surprising or dreadful to see people kicking away at the dirt of an already destroyed mountain. When you abandon the fundamentals of the gospel, everything is fair game. Machen knew that, and it was just as bad in his time. What we’re seeing now from the PCUSA, are the ripple effects of an eruption that destroyed them long ago. 

On the Unknown God and Who He Is

On the Unknown God and Who He Is

“Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said ‘Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else.’”

            The Greek culture is usually the first to come to mind when the topic of polytheism comes up. Inventing new gods was not uncommon in the ancient world. Every nation and province had its own selection of gods. There was a theological/mythological explosion by the time the apostle Paul arrived on the scene. There were gods and goddesses everywhere. To put it in perspective, there were more gods than there were things to rule over. The Greek island Lesbos is known to have let other cultures borrow their gods if the other’s gods were not living up to their divine duties. Elijah taunted the priests of Baal that perhaps their god was away relieving himself; if this had been said to Greeks, they may have taken it under serious consideration to assign a deity over sewers. In any case, there must have been a serious cultural/theological problem if a temple to an unknown god had to be built. So what were the Greek’s problems? Why does the unknown god resemble Yahweh more than any of the other plethora of gods that they had? First, we must understand what the theological epistemology of the Greeks was before we can answer such questions.

             When talking about theological epistemology, we are talking about basically the question how one knows comes to know things concerning divine being or God. For the Greeks, their belief was solely based upon their experience in the world. When one saw the roaring Ocean an account for its existence and activity was needed. So a Poseidon had to be fashioned according to the observations made by the subject. When one experienced love and beauty an Aphrodite was needed to account for it. Of course, she herself had to emulate their observations, so she was a promiscuous goddess. The growth of civilization meant a growth of new activities/aspects of society and gods were needed to account for them as well. Dionysius was the god of wine, drunkenness, parties, youthful pleasure etc. There was even a god to account for traveling, thievery, and language etc—his name was Hermes. They had gods for cooking, childbirth, sculpture, horticulture, and, of course, the god of gods, Zeus. The question of good or evil hardly played a role concerning the essence or character of a particular god. If one happened to be good then aren’t we lucky! Man is most creative when fashioning temples to house his heart.

            It appears that gods were used the same way that the terms genus (category) and species (members) are used. If there was a group of common things in the world a god was assigned to watch over them. This played an important role in the dilemma that resulted in the temple to the unknown god. The problem that came out of their epistemological method was that as their understanding of the world grew so did the necessity to find more gods to account for their findings. Theological, though it may be, their method for knowing the gods was purely naturalistic; and as they understood more and more their own ignorance of the world, so did the fact that they may not have all gods accounted for. There is simply no way to be certain that all the gods were known. There was a fear that by not acknowledging all the gods that they were accidentally being irreverent, impious, or even blasphemous to them. The relationship between gods and men was clearly one-sided. Man was always left to himself to know the gods via guesswork and start the relationship off.

            To hone in on this point, let us consider, briefly, the history of the temple to the unknown god. According to some sources, Diogenes Laërtius states that Epimenides (a Greek seer) had a plan to stave off a raging plague:

"He took sheep, some black and others white, and brought them to the Areopagus; and there he let them go whither they pleased, instructing those that followed them to mark the spot where each sheep lay down and to offer a sacrifice to the local divinity. And thus, it is said, the plague was stayed. Hence even to this day altars may be found in different parts of Attica with no name inscribed upon them, which are memorials of this atonement."

If the sheep rested in an area that had no local deity, an altar to an unknown god was made. Thus, the temple to an unknown god was founded upon tired sheep. The religious epistemology concerning the god was based upon divine sheep casting. Nothing more could be said of the god except he/she/it has an affinity toward sheep. The flippant treatment of building temples reflects the flippant reasons for believing in gods. Contrasting their temples with Israel’s temple to Yahweh, the Temple was built as a symbol of the presence of God with His people. Reason and natural observation were reaching their limitations. There were multiple altars not only in Greece, but in Rome as well. In a way, the temple to the unknown god was a mark and sign of frustration within the Greco-Roman world. The temple to the unknown god was a realization that of all the gods they had known, none of them appeared to be the cause of their present ailment (or at least, were able to solve it) and that perhaps some unknown god was offended. What could they do? Gods have taken permanent residence on Mt. Olympus and don’t appear to want to come down again. The best they could do was to cast sheep like dice in the hopes that someone will be appeased enough to end their suffering. Their epistemology had been one of starting from the ground and working upwards to peer into the divine realm for answers. With no help by divine revelation, what became of their religious epistemology was to create essentially a “Tower of Babel” of deities. It became a hodge-podge of gods and a worldview that was shattered and disorderly. The devoutly religious devolved into a hedonistic practice (as did the Romans), and the disbelieving philosophers developed ethical practices that were based on ignoring the world rather than trying to unify all aspects of the world into a cohesive and comprehensive whole (e.g. Stoicism). Is it any wonder that from a culture like this that Pilate answers Christ’s claim to be the truth with the question “what is truth”? If according to Epimenides, “For in thee we live and move and have our being” then why is it that we are so disconnected from him?

The Temple to the unknown god also represents a loss of real reverence for their deities. If Diogenes’ account is correct, then these temples were built merely to accommodate their needs. If you are using sheep to guide you to the object of your worship then one would be hard pressed to find a reason to show reverence to a god who is a stranger. And really, if you are exchanging gods like playing cards to other cultures, then there’s probably not much reverential fear going on.

The problem that these people were suffering from was a religious system contingent upon the knowledge of a world that they did not understand. Their scientific understanding of the world around them and the intricacies of human existence were severely limited. It is as if one is using a bent and warped stick in the dark as a measuring rod. If you are using creation to define its author, you are going to get an author that looks like creation; if you are using a fallen creation, you get a god who is less than perfect and reflects those fallen aspects.

Their understanding does confirm Paul’s words in Romans 1:18-23:

“The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.”

            While they tried to suppress the knowledge of the True God, they knew enough that to account for all the aspects of creation, they needed creators. As is the nature of man under any condition, they needed objects of worship. When basing a religious system on observing a world that is afflicted with sin, that world will look chaotic and confused; and that’s exactly the kind of religious system they got. Their religion emulated the world around them, which is chaotic and sinful; therefore, their religion is chaotic and sinful as well (and the stories of their gods are rife with chaos and vice). Their deities reflected little of sovereignty and providence, concepts that produce order and stability.

            So with all this in mind, what was it about the unknown god that Paul found so familiar? As we mentioned before, their religious system was based on starting from creation and attempting to work their way up to the divine realm. The temple to the unknown god was recognition of that failure. Therefore, Paul used that as an opportunity to tell them of a God that cannot be reached by reasoning through sinful creation. Their religious epistemology was backwards, man couldn’t work his way up to God; God must come down to us.

            The god that the pagans did not know was the God that is Lord of all creation, not merely a part of it. The fact that the pagans did not know their own limitations as sinful human beings was the reason why their intellect failed to reach the God that unifies all creation under the banner of His sovereignty.

            The difference between Paul’s religious epistemology and the pagan’s was that faith is brought down to us as a gift so that a gap in knowing may be bridged; whereas the pagan method was merely to assent to the physical operations of the world. Paul’s God was not merely the author and caretaker of a portion of the world, but is the author of everything in the world and the sustainer of it. For all the work and trouble the Greeks and Romans put into knowing the world for the sake of seeking their gods, Paul informed them that their unknown God was as close as their very breath and Who provided life for all. For all their gifts into observing the smallest nooks and the farthest places, they could not see the answer to their quest was closer than they could possibly imagine. It is an irony of ironies to be given the very tools to find the One you’re supposedly looking for only to refuse to open your eyes and retreat into the darkness. They were without excuse.

            Paul assured his pagan audience that God does not dwell in temples made by man, nor is He waiting to be served as if our aid was required. If they had ears to hear, the Greeks could have discovered that the true God had everything under control, and that the sovereignty and providence that they so desperately needed from their gods dwelt within the one God who graciously makes Himself known. There is a God who does not play hide-and-seek with those who seek Him but comes full force into the soul to bring us into an everlasting relationship. No god of drunkenness could withstand the God of grace and mercy; for in Him we truly “live and move and have our being”.   

Aristotle’s Ideal Life: Contemplation of the Divine

Prologue

“The unexamined life is not worth living.” This line was uttered by one of western civilization’s most influential thinkers: Plato (as spoken by Socrates). From this, we might ask a teleological question: “If the unexamined life is one empty of value, then what is the best life?” We will consider potential answers to this question through the mind of Plato’s most famous student, Aristotle. He will show us not only what the best life is and how we can attain it, but also that the best life – the one that produces the most happiness -- is also the most virtuous.
What we will consider first are Aristotle’s views on happiness. In order for us to consider the best life; i.e., to obtain happiness, we must first understand what happiness is. However, a mere definition is not enough; we must also discover what characterized life brings about happiness in its most excellent form. Aristotle tapers the possibilities down to four life pursuits: pleasure, honor, wealth, and contemplation. Each one will be considered on its merits as a candidate and champion for the good life.
After our discussion of happiness, we will turn our considerations towards what is virtue. As we follow Aristotle’s leading, it will become clear that the project that Aristotle has set out before his readers is to show that the most virtuous life is also the happiest life. In this regard, several questions arise that must be addressed:

1) What is virtue?

2) What forms of virtue are there?

3) Which is the best virtue?

4) How is the life that brings the most happiness also the life that is the most virtuous?

All of these questions will be addressed as we follow Aristotle’s search for the best life.

Well-Being: Eudaimonia

“Every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and choice, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good has rightly been declared to be that at which all things aim.” The first words of Aristotle’s Nichomachean discourse lead us to a most certainly teleological question(s): “What is the end to all men’s actions? What is the ultimate purpose and reason why we do anything?”
There must be an end or purpose to action; activity must be done for the sake of something that is the greatest of all other things. If there was no end to action and everything were done for the sake of something else, which was in turn done for something else, then the process, Aristotle says, will go on forever. This strips all our actions of meaning.

The question appears profound enough. Yet the answer that Aristotle gives appears simple, masking its remarkably profound insight into the human mind. The "telos" or end of all of man’s actions is toward “eudaimonia". Eudaimonia is traditionally translated as “happiness”; however, the word carries with it much more weight than what we typically give it. The word bears a sense of telos in that it can be translated to mean “well-being” or “living well.” As Blackburn writes, in regards to happiness and the teleological aspect of human activity, “It is the purpose and thereof the good of human beings to lead a certain kind of social life. ” “Happiness,” in this sense, is far more than emotive; it involves every aspect of the human life: material, physical, psychological etc. Ian Johnson puts it this way in his lectures on Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics,
“We may better get a sense of what Aristotle means by the term if we take the advice of one interpreter and see eudaimonia as the answer to the question "What sort of a life would we most wish for our children?”

The reason why actions are performed is because we believe they will achieve happiness. The opening quote of the Nichomachean Ethics is important for Aristotle’s argument because it is a presupposition he believes is grounded in human nature rather than mere conjecture. It avoids any possible assault from those who would try to argue for moral relativism. Aristotle does not try to prove his statement simply because he believes he does not have to.
Although there are other immediate reasons in why we may do something, those other reasons are actually means to an end; i.e., happiness. Even if one is caught in a situation where one must choose between two evils, one is still going to choose that which will bring the least amount of pain. We may even word it as such: one will choose that which preserves the most amount of happiness.
We run into a problem, however, in that from simple observation it seems that most people do not achieve happiness or that there are varying degrees of happiness. Aristotle gives us four different kinds of life that people pursue and assesses whether they achieve ultimate happiness:

Four Kinds of Life Pursuits

1. Wealth. Some pursue wealth as if it was the bearer of happiness, but this cannot be the end that Aristotle is talking about simply because wealth is used to fulfill other desires. In other words, wealth is a means, not an end in and of itself. Wealth promises more than it can deliver; it may satiate for a time but it fails to bring final contentment.

2. Honor. Some people pursue honor as a means to happiness. While this is a nobler form of life and is certainly better than the pursuit of wealth, it is still not the best life, nor one that will bring about the most happiness. Aristotle sees happiness as solely belonging to us and not contingent on the attitudes of the people around us. Yet this is the problem encountered when honor is pursued as a means of happiness. Honor is dependent on the person receiving from the honorable person, not the honorable person giving. Nor is the honorable life secure from suffering. Sir David Ross wrote,

“Honour seems to be aimed at something that assures us of our own virtue, and virtue is perhaps more truly the end of the political life. But virtue is compatible with inactivity, and with misery, and on both these counts is disqualified for being the true end.”

3. Contemplation. This is Aristotle’s candidate for the life that produces the most and best happiness; we shall examine why later.

4. Pleasure. Pleasure is the life that most people pursue. Some men attach an ethical quality to it, saying that pain is evil and pleasure is good. However, Aristotle finds such arguments to be problematic. For Aristotle, just because pain is “evil” does not make pleasure good. Secondly, Aristotle considers pleasure to be the pursuit of slaves and animals. And there is an addictive aspect to pleasure that can turn noble men into slaves to pleasure and become swallowed up in excessiveness. The Hedonist equates happiness with pleasure. Yet pleasure subsists in the here and now; thus we have a problem of “volatility”. Pleasure only lasts as long as the source of that pleasure lasts; therefore, it doesn’t live up to the definition of eudaimonia.
Though Aristotle would not want such a “base” practice be the ultimate end in any case, we must qualify “pleasure”. Pleasure is not simply that practiced by the hedonists, who live by the maxim “eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” We must not generalize pleasure to be solely defined by such a maxim since Aristotle makes a strong case for the benefits of pleasure elsewhere.

Objectives of Well-Being

In order for man to possess well-being two objectives must be met: 1) it must be an end, never a mean, and 2) it must be self-sufficient. Although we have covered much ground in our considerations of happiness, we have yet to define the term we are considering. True to the character of the western traditions of philosophy, we must define what “happiness” is.
As previously mentioned, the first question raised was a teleological one. The same is true of our current consideration. The question concerning the end to all of man’s actions has been answered, but another question has yet to be answered. Perhaps we can borrow the first question in the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “What is the chief end of man?”
This question is much more difficult than the first. It cannot be anything basic such as reproduction or growth since that is something in which we share with the animals. It must be something that belongs solitarily to humanity. Aristotle uses the phrase “to logon echon" translated as “that which has a plan or rule.” The operative word here is logon (the lexical form of this being “logos”). Logos has been translated to mean “Word” [see John 1:1 NIV]; however, it is also the root word for our word “logic.” Therefore, it is safe to assume that the characteristic function of man is reason. This is an important consideration in relation to the good life, happiness, or well-being. In trying to define happiness, Aristotle examines four aspects that need to be considered in our search to define it.

Aspects of Well-Being to Consider

1. One must have a teleological reasoning faculty. Before we are able to make any considerations concerning the end of man and the meaning behind the end, we must first consider our ability to make such a search. Man has within himself the “faculty of intentionality”. What we mean by that is to say that man has the ability to think about what he is doing and why he is doing it. Man has the ability to make goals and pursue them, which brings us to point number two:

2. The teleological intentionality of man must be dynamic, not mere potentiality. It is not enough for us simply consider a plan and purpose; rather, it must be acted upon. Achieving well-being is an active pursuit; simply considering it will not give us the good life. It is not enough for us to be the fly on the wall of our imagination.

3. Well-being must be in accordance with virtue. Happiness must be in accordance with virtue; misery follows vice. If it is seen that there is more than one virtue, then happiness must be in accordance with the highest virtue.

4. It must be lasting. The best well-being must last a lifetime; not merely in isolated moments of time. If well-being is periodic, then it begins to closely resemble pleasure, which Aristotle already rejected as a synonym for happiness.

Aspects of Virtue to Consider

Shifting our focus from well-being, the next consideration will be Aristotle’s views on Virtue. Why must we consider these two virtues in the first place? Recall our definition of happiness: “Happiness must be in accordance with virtue, if it there is more than one virtue then happiness must be in accordance with the best virtue.” The end to all of men’s actions is toward happiness and happiness is in accordance with the best virtues. If this is so, then it is necessary to discover the best virtue.
For Aristotle, there are two kinds of virtue: the moral virtues and the intellectual virtues.
Yet he sees a common rule governing them both. In his work on the moral virtues, Aristotle introduces us to a very important rule: the “doctrine of the mean” . He believes that this rule is an important consideration of the virtues, not only in assessing the character of the virtues, but the nature by which they function. The doctrine of the mean is Aristotle’s conviction that true virtue is in the mean (middle) between extremes. The same can be said of the proper use of our faculties.
Virtue lies in an equidistant mean between the two extremes of deficiency and excessiveness. Too much or too little in an action or attitude creates problems. What is desired is proper balance between the two.
What is virtue? According to Sir David Ross, “virtue is a tendency to control a certain class of feeling and to act rightly in a certain kind of situation” . Moral virtues have to do more with feelings and the proper character of the soul. “Soul” in this sense should be viewed as being more closely related to “mind”. (Note: Aristotle adopts the Platonic notion of a tripartite soul. In his view, our soul has three components: passions, faculties, and states of character) .
In assessing what might qualify as man’s virtues, Aristotle examines all three aspects of the three-part soul.
First, our passions cannot be virtues because, as Russ Payne puts it, we are not praised nor blamed for the way we feel. Passions are an involuntary response to varying circumstances, thus there is no intellectual character by which to praise.Here, it is important to make mention Aristotle’s take on voluntary and involuntary action. In order to properly assess whether an action is to be praised or disparaged, the action must be voluntary. If it is done involuntarily then the action (or lack thereof) happened outside the individual’s influential power. Actions cannot be assessed if it happened outside the individual’s control. Virtuous acts must be done voluntarily; from that we can say that virtuous actions are made from choice. The person who makes a rational decision and subsequently acts upon it in a virtuous manner, is worthy of praise. Thus, voluntary action and choice make it possible to determine whether or not an act was virtuous or not.
Second, our faculties cannot be virtues for a similar reason as our passions. An aspect of our faculties is our ability to feel emotions. Yet, an ability to feel certain emotions like hatred is not praiseworthy. Essentially, an ability to feel something says little to nothing about the person themselves.
Third, what we are left with are virtues as a state of character. For Aristotle, virtue lies within one’s ability to not only be able to feel an emotion, but to feel the right emotion, at the right time, and at the right amount. We run into a problem, however, when it becomes clear that certain states of character are not virtuous at all. Lust, for example, is a state of character that is not considered virtuous. This is where Aristotle’s doctrine of the mean becomes most valuable. Lust is a tendency to feel an over-abundance of sexual desire, yet this desire can be virtuous if it is controlled and managed properly and felt under proper circumstances. Aristotle gives us three examples to consider as being virtuous and the middle between two extremes: courage, temperance, and self-respect.

Moral Virtue in the Middle

1. Courage. Aristotle suggests that courage is the mean between two extremes. A deficiency of courage is cowardice, in which one suspends nobility for self-preservation. An excessiveness of courage is rashness, where one simply acts on impulse without thinking. The impulse in running into danger foolishly might even be as characterized as either stupidity or a disdain for life.
Aristotle recognizes various kinds of courage depending on the situation at hand. Some instances of courage last longer than others. Aristotle’s notion of courage is intended to mean more than merely being brave in times of sickness or heartache, but bravery at the prospect of death (mainly, death in battle) or of political courage where one faces danger to gain honor. Sir David Ross expressed it quite nicely, “one soldier must not be the slave of his cheer…anymore than another should be the slave of his fear.”

2. Temperance. The idea of temperance concerns things of the senses; specifically, the senses of taste and touch. The virtue that is being considered here is the virtue of self-control. We may associate these senses with the pleasures of drinking or sexual intercourse. The problem for the doctrine of means is that while there is a vice of excessiveness, there really is no vice of deficiency. The vice of excessiveness would be a lack of self-control; the vice of deficiency is difficult to ascertain. The most we might call it is asceticism, but this seems difficult to categorize as vice. The bottom line is that temperance is difficult to express as a virtue of means.

3. Self Respect. The last of the three virtues considered is also considered to be the greatest of the three. It encompasses all the admirable traits, including those mentioned above. The man who has “great-souledness” is one who does not have an over-inflated sense of pride, resulting in a narcissistic and egotistic personality. Nor does he have a deficient sense of pride which produces weakness or depression (the modern term might be “low self-esteem”). The man of proper pride has within himself an ability to act when necessary instead of being rash, to be the benefactor rather than the beneficiary whenever possible; he is selfless in his actions and aims to produce happiness for others before himself. The product of this virtue is the altruistic man.

Intellectual Virtues Rule the Day

Aristotle will make a case for intellectual virtues as those that brings us the most happiness. First, he examines the nature of Truth. The object of reason is Truth, therefore the goal of intellectual virtue is to discern and embrace Truth. The next step then is to determine how one arrives and discerns Truth. We are given five states of mind by which we come to Truth:Science (episteme), art (techne), prudence (phronasis), intuitive reason (nous), and theoretical wisdom (sophia).

1. Science. Dr. Ross speaks of science as dealing with what is eternal and necessary, as well as that which is inductive . Indeed it is only communicable through induction. The virtue of science is that it is learnable through teaching.

2. Art. Aristotle views art as something practical. Though there is fine art, there is also useful art. This is important for Aristotle because Aristotle believes that art can be used as a tool for learning. Art is something teachable. Thus Truth may be reached through the use of art.

3. Practical Wisdom. As mentioned, art is something that is to be used as a teaching device. Thus art is not an end to itself, but a means to an active end. Because of this, “art is subordinate to practical wisdom” . While art is concerned with the creation of good things and making inward good outward, practical wisdom is concerned with the reverse in that we look for things that are good for us. The man of practical wisdom knows what is good for him and searches for them. However, this state of mind is easily distorted and warped because often times what is pleasurable is mistakenly thought of as synonymous with what is practically good. Virtue may give us the ability to choose the best end, but we can say that practical wisdom gives us the ability to choose the means to that end. Therefore, practical wisdom and virtue go hand in hand. One cannot function without the other.

4. Intuitive Reason. Intuitive reason may be considered here to be the next step from science in that after one reasons through induction, and has experiences using the knowledge gained from induction, one grasps the principles behind the science. Then one can act on what eventually become self-evident universal principles. For Aristotle, this is the more pure form of knowledge.

5. Theoretical Wisdom. Here we have the state of mind that Aristotle values most. Theoretical wisdom is the next step from practical wisdom and similar to intuition. It is the use of both science and intuition. Intuition and science have their limitations (e.g. intuition is often times a guess and be wrong; science must constantly be considered and reconsidered, deliberated and re-deliberated). Theoretical wisdom, however, is the use of the physical experience of science with the innate reason of intuition to create what may be loosely considered to be an ability to make educated guesses. It is an ability to take prior experiences and analyze them using intuition. The greatest aspect of this is that one need not deliberate on the subject matter, nor does one need to make a guess at what is the best and most virtuous course of action. Rather, science and experience, in a way, fine tunes our intuitive abilities so that one does not need a rational justification for a particular course of action.
What Aristotle develops is an ethical system which appears as an antithesis of the Kantian ethics. For Kant, one’s moral actions have moral worth only if they are done for the sake of duty; they have no moral worth if they are done habitually. Aristotle’s methodology is to make virtuous, moral actions a habit. This includes the consistent seeking of Truth, especially that variety engaged by theoretical wisdom.

A Digression on Pleasure

Before leaving all other considerations in the wake of intellectual virtue, Aristotle’s position on pleasure needs re-examination. Although Aristotle called it a lifestyle fit for beasts and slaves, that was not his final word. Aristotle returns to the consideration of pleasure and since we are considering the best and happiest life, it is best that we follow along with his reflections on the topic.
For Aristotle, there are three views to consider: 1) that no pleasure is good; 2) that not all pleasures are bad but that most of them are; and 3) even if pleasure was good, it cannot be the greatest good.
Aristotle has a low view of the idea that the greatest good lies with pleasure and that it produces well being. However, that does not necessarily imply that pleasure is completely without good. To assume so would mean that the best life would be without pleasure. Aristotle gives cases against this view:

1. Some of the pleasures that we call “bad” may not be universally so. Some pleasures may be useful to some people at a particular time. Aristotle mentions in particular the use of pleasure (and pain) in building character (in children):

“We steer them by the rudders of pleasure and pain; It is thought that to enjoy the things we ought and to hate the things we ought has the greatest bearing on excellence of character.”

Not only that, but those pleasures that produce pain cannot truly be called “pleasures” (e.g. drunkenness).

2. The reasoning of those who argue against the goodness of pleasure is that it is a process of filling a void; Aristotle refutes this argument by insisting that there is a restorative nature to pleasure which can be good. As stated earlier, well-being and the good life must be an activity. Therefore, the activity of restoring one’s natural state cannot be an argument against it, but for it. Pleasure is merely restoring us to our natural state which is pleasurable by nature.

3. Some assert that pleasures are bad because they are detrimental to human health. However, this is a poor argument because just about anything, even good things, can have some negative effect. The only kinds of pleasures that the argument is applicable to are the perverse and unnatural pleasures. As David Ross put it, “To infer that some pleasures are bad because they promote disease is like saying that some healthy things are bad because they are bad for money-making…”

4. Lastly, others argue that wise people do not pursue pleasure but instead seek what is quiet, peaceful, and whatever avoids pain. Yet such pursuits are actually pleasures as well. Not seeing that the pursuit of peace and quiet is not a pleasure is a failure to distinguish between bodily pleasures that rely on consumption and pleasures that are good within themselves. One is a base pleasure; the other is a lofty pleasure, yet both qualify as pleasures.

Aristotle contends against the idea that pleasure is a transition, or a filling of a void. For Aristotle, pleasure is an end to itself, not a means. It has its place alongside well-being and happiness. It is not the summum bonum (highest good) in the way that he views the intellectual life, yet he makes a strong enough case for it to be in the conversation.
Although we feel various levels of pleasure at different times, this is not to say we are in the process of feeling pleasure. For Aristotle, pleasure is a completed, discreet moment unto itself, not a process.
Whenever we are active, whether in the senses or in thought, pleasure can be seen as the state of being that completes the activity. In the language of Kant, what Aristotle considers to be the bonum supremum (final good), can be transformed into the bonum consummatum (complete good) through pleasure.
The importance of pleasure is shown further by the point that the less we take pleasure in something the less we do it. Therefore, if we are to keep up the things that give us well-being and make it the bonum consummatum, pleasure is the final state of being that encourages a consistent active life of intellectual contemplation of the supreme good. This point calls to mind the fact that this further constitutes pleasure as an activity, which allows it to fit perfectly alongside well-being.

The Good Life

It is now time to for us to consider Aristotle’s final point, which the culmination of all our previous considerations. Our last and most important thrust is “what constitutes the good life?”
Aristotle has made it clear that well-being must be an activity, and this activity must be good and desirable in and of itself. He has also insisted that this activity must be in accordance with virtue. He has given us two candidates for those virtues: moral virtues and intellectual virtues.
The context of moral virtues is those that are done for the benefit of others. These are the down-to-earth virtues; a horizontal perspective. Moral virtues are lived out among fellow human beings.
Of the intellectual virtues, the two most important ones are: theoretical and practical wisdom. In Aristotle’s assessment, these two virtues actually constitute well-being instead of just being an exercise of it. Reminded that well-being is activity according to the best virtue using the best of our faculties, the ideal life is going to be grounded in the intellectual virtues because man’s best faculty, the one that separates human beings from the other creatures, is reason.
Additionally, Aristotle demonstrated that theoretical wisdom is greater than practical wisdom; therefore, the activity which produces well-being must be theoretical. It should start to become clear that the ideal life involves contemplation.
One of the qualities of the intellectual virtues that make it so valuable is its association and contemplation of the highest things; i.e., those things which are good in and of themselves; those that are eternal, and immutable. This is what separates the moral virtues from the intellectual virtues in value concerning the happy life -- that the intellectual virtues aim at something higher than ourselves or each other. It transcends this life and contemplates the next.
Only the divine possesses such qualities. While man is categorically separate from deity, there is a part of us that possess the ability to communicate and relate to the divine. It is the faculty by which we contemplate God and is indeed the greatest part of us.
What of the moral virtues then? For Aristotle, the importance of the moral virtues is not diminished, but holds a different place. For Aristotle, well-being consists in more than simply an intellectual life. Aristotle recognizes the fact that not all human beings are able to live such a life. Therefore, the morally virtuous life is the life for those who cannot live the contemplative life. In a sense, well-being as defined by the moral virtues is a next-best-thing and whether this state is permanent or temporary is up to the individual. For Aristotle, the best must be in the context of telos; it is an end in itself. Here, the moral virtues prove to be better means than an end, for another important aspect of the moral virtues is that they help produce the intellectual virtues. The moral values keep the passions at bay; therefore our attention is not diverted from the development of the intellectual virtues within us.
In his Eudemian Ethics, Aristotle displays the synthesis of the moral and intellectual virtues which marked Socrates and Plato, so that “in the end one cannot really possess one virtue without possessing them all.” In fact, this unity of the moral and intellectual virtues marks the major difference between the two works on ethics:

“The principle difference between the NE and the EE is that in the former Aristotle regards perfect happiness as constituted solely by the activity of philosophical contemplation, whereas in the latter it consists of the harmonious exercise of all the virtues, intellectual and moral.”

And how do these intellectual virtues attain well-being? These are the virtues used in our pursuit of Truth. Once we have found Truth, eudaimonia is reached. Therefore, well-being is found in the contemplation of Truth already found, not in the search for it.

The Chief End and the Ideal Life

We have learned what the end of all men’s actions is happiness; we have learned that happiness is well-being; we have learned that well-being is actions done according to virtue; we have defined and differentiated between the two types of virtues; and we have learned that well-being is to be found in the contemplation of the highest thing, something higher than ourselves.
What is the highest thing then? For Aristotle, well-being, happiness, eudaimonia is found in the contemplation of God. Because Aristotle views God as being a purely contemplative Being, it would not be too far of a stretch to say that the practice of the intellectual virtues is a work in transcendence towards a divine image. Perhaps contemplating the divine is Aristotle’s practice of the imago dei . Since the ideal life and well-being are found in God, it is no surprise if the practice of the ideal life took on a form of worship as well.
Interestingly, the answer to the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism is very similar, from a Christian perspective, to Aristotle’s concept of what the ideal life is as found in the Eudemian Ethics:

Westminster Shorter Catechism:
Q. What is the chief end of man?
A.“To Glorify God and enjoy Him forever”

Aristotle, Eudemian Ethics
Q. What is the ideal life?
A. “The worship and contemplation of God”

In the end, the life worth living is the one examined in the light of the contemplation of the divine.

BACKGROUND TO THE LAMENT OF JEREMIAH

History is mostly a series of cataclysmic, defining moments that begin a process of change in a people. They are course altering events; leaving behind who they had been and changing them into something they will become. The Book of Lamentations was not the first of its kind; it had been traditional for a lament to be written after a cataclysmic event. Several ancient examples have been discovered: Lamentation over the Destruction of Ur, Lamentation of Sumer and Ur and Lamentation over the Destruction of Nipper. The biblical Lament over the destruction of Judah was an inspired expression of this ancient genre. More important than the literary category, however, was the historical importance of the siege by the Babylonians, Israel’s captivity and the changes that captivity brought to them. The captivity became a crucible in which Judah’s penchant for idolatry was purged. The Jews as a unique, covenantal people were preserved.

By the sixth century BC, the Hebrews had a long history of rebellion against their God. Cycles of rebellion, retribution, repentance, and restoration marked the pre-exilic history of Israel/Judah. In most cases, God’s response to the rebellion of His people was to raise up nations against them until they sought Him again. Eventually, God chose not to preserve the northern kingdom of Israel and the ten tribes were relocated and assimilated into the Assyrian empire, lost to future history. The greatest danger to the remnant in Judah was the allure of foreign women. Through intermarriage, false gods were introduced. To preserve His people and to purge them of their idolatry, God sent an event so traumatic and so horrific that it forever changed what it meant to be a Jew. Judah was put through the fire of captivity and threatened with assimilation, she lost her taste for idolatry forever. God had given an ominous foreshadowing of this event when the Temple was dedicated. In 1 Kings 9:8-9, God had warned of what would happen if Judah pursued false gods:

“For this house, which is exalted, everyone who passes by it will be astonished and will hiss, and say, ‘Why has the Lord done this to this land and to this house?’ Then they will answer, ‘Because they forsook the Lord their God, who brought their fathers out of Egypt, and have embraced other gods, and worshipped them and served them; therefore the Lord has brought all this calamity on them.’” 1 Kings 9:8-9

Yet the warning was not heeded. Solomon himself allowed the high places of his foreign wives to exist. When King Manassa revived the child sacrifices to Molech, the judgment was sealed. Despite the reign of good kings who followed, the Lord declared that the sins of Manassa had never been cleansed. Therefore, out of Babylon to the east, God raised up the instrument of His judgment in the form of Nebuchadnezzar and the Chaldeans.

The Chaldeans had conquered the Assyrians, who had conquered Israel. God had used the Assyrians’ wicked intentions to judge Israel, and then He judged the Assyrians. Initially, Judah was made a vassal state and allowed their own succession of vassal kings. However, the Judeans rebelled and Nebuchadnezzar put down the rebellion and gave the throne to Zedekiah. Zedekiah ruled in his name and kept Judea in peace. But conspiring with Egypt, Zedekiah broke his covenant with his suzerain king. In 588 BC, the Chaldean army swept into Judea to put down the rebellion. Within weeks, Judah lay devastated; only three Judean cities remained: Jerusalem and the walled cities of Lachish and Azekia. The events that followed were horrendous and would change the Judeans forever. Azekia fell first; archaeologists have uncovered messages between Joash, the commander of Lachish, and Jerusalem. They were scratched on little pieces of pottery called ostraca (pottery shards) and carried by a messenger. One of the last dispatches discovered was the ominous message that Jerusalem was no longer receiving signals from Azekia. It reads, “Let my lord know that we are watching over the beacon of Lachish, according to the signals which my lord gave, for Azekah is not seen.”

Joash would have known that Nebuchadnezzar was on his way. When he got there, the Chaldean king was in no mood for another long siege. He put his engineers in charge of finding a way to quickly subdue the city. What his engineers did was to deforest the land for miles around the city. Every bit of brush, every tree, every olive grove was cut down and brought to the city walls. The wood was piled as high as a house around the entire circumference of the walls and then set on fire. For days, Lachish was an inferno. Day and night, the Chaldeans kept stoking the fire until the white-hot stones eventually burst and the walls caved in. The entire population was put to the sword. The most common artifact unearthed from Lachish are burnt olive pits, reminders of the vast olive groves that were used in the fire.

Only Jerusalem remained. The city was protected by valleys on the three sides. Her walls were strong and there weren’t enough trees to repeat the inferno of Lachish. Therefore, the city lay under siege for eighteen months. The horrors of a siege are nearly inconceivable; a siege is a slow agonizing death of starvation and disease. Its victims are not armies, they are families and children; they are the young and the old. As the months passed by, the situation inside the city degenerated to the point that Jeremiah depicts the people as little more than the walking dead. Even as mothers consumed their own children, Zedekiah continued to look in vain to Egypt instead of God. To the end, Judah continued to play the harlot with other nations. Yet Egypt never came and in the summer of 586 BC, the Chaldeans finally breached the walls and the city fell. Zedekiah, who escaped during the night, was captured near Jericho and was brought before Nebuchadnezzar as a covenant breaker. He was forced to watch his sons being put to death before he had his own eyes plucked out—the typical Babylonian punishment for treason. In shame, the 400-year reign of the family of David came to end. “All over the land would be desolateness and stillness…keeping a long-neglected silent Sabbath unto God.”

The judgment that God placed upon Judah would forever alter these people. Scripture itself does not hold anything back from the depiction of its horrors. Jeremiah reminded his readers of the fulfilled warning to Solomon referenced earlier:

“All those who pass by clap their hands at you; they hiss and shake their heads at the daughter of Jerusalem. Is this the city that is called the perfection of beauty? The joy of the whole earth? All your enemies have opened their mouth against you. They hiss and gnash their teeth; they say we have swallowed her up. Surely this is the day we have waited for, we have found it, and we have seen it.” Lamentations 2:14-16

Here was an event that no Jew was going to forget, for God would not allow them to forget it through the inspired narrative of Jeremiah. In his lament, Jeremiah captured the images of a people who were ravaged by their own sins. From the depths of his heart, Jeremiah observes and records a scene of horror. Summarizing the verses:

“My eyes fill with tears, my heart is troubled, my bile is poured on the ground because of the destruction of the daughter of my people. Because the children and the infants faint in the street. They say to their mothers where is grain and wine as they swoon like the wounded in the streets of the city. As their life is poured out in their mother’s bosom. See O Lord and consider to whom have you done this. Should the woman eat their offspring? The children they have cuddled? Should the priest and the prophet be slain in the Sanctuary of the Lord? Young and old lie on the ground in the streets. My virgins and my young men have fallen by the sword. You have slain them in the day of your anger; you have slaughtered and have not pitied. The tongue of the infants clings to the roof of its mouth for thirst. The young children ask for bread but no one breaks it for them. Now their appearance is blacker than soot. They go unrecognized in the streets, their skin clings to their bones it has become dry as wood. Those slain by the sword are better off than those who die of hunger. For these pine away stricken by lack of the fruits of the field. The hands of the compassionate women have cooked their own children. They became food for them in the destruction of the daughter of my people.” ff. Lamentations chapters 1-4.

Faced with such destruction, Jeremiah makes it clear that the catastrophe was not happenstance but was the judgment of God upon the sins of Judah. Matthew Henry comments on these verses that while the Chaldeans may be the instruments, “God is the author of all these troubles; it is the Lord that has afflicted her and He has done it as a righteous judge for she has sinned.”

Yet in the midst of judgment, Jeremiah recalls the mercy of the Lord. Judah was not consumed; “I have hope through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed because his compassion fails not. They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion says my soul, for I hope in Him.” In many churches, these verses are a popular chorus; yet the context is often forgotten. Ultimately, the message that God was sending Judah was not lost on Jeremiah: “Is it not from the mouth of the most high that woe and well being proceed? Why should a man complain for the punishment of his sins?” Jeremiah knew that those who were devastating his nation were merely an instrument. God would enforce His judgment upon His people; yet this was not an arbitrary act of God, but would ultimately preserve them as a covenant people.

A month later, in August of 586 BC, the captain of Nebuchadnezzar’s guard put the Temple to the flames. The walls were torn down and the city was left desolate. Thousands of Hebrews began an 800-mile forced march to Babylon and into captivity. Most of these were craftsman and the aristocracy. The poorest of the people were given land in Palestine and left to meek out whatever existence they could find. Just like the ten tribes of the northern kingdom of Israel, they soon melded into the people around them. The resulting mixture of races melded together with those who would become the Samaritans.

The once great people of God became a nation of refugees; the most privileged of peoples suffered one of the most severe punishments. But surrounded by the depraved paganism of Babylon, the Hebrews built hedges around their culture and left behind their flirtations with foreign gods. The Jews preserved their identity; instead of assimilating, they mourned for Zion. A psalm from the exile says that “by the waters of Babylon they sat down and wept, when they remembered thee, O Zion” . In Spurgeon’s commentary on this passage, he captured the longing despair for the Land: “They sat in silence; they remembered in silence; they wept in silence.”

At the end of the captivity, the Jews who returned to Jerusalem were profoundly different than the Hebrews who had left. In the larger picture, John Sailhammer’s commentary on Genesis describes a continuing theme of judgment and restoration within the recurring expulsions and returns to Canaan. He believes that Eden and Canaan are in the same location and when Adam was driven east, it was towards what would become Babel (Babylon). Therefore the expulsion from Canaan in 586 BC mirrors the expulsion from the Garden; just as the return from Babylon mirrors the return to the land by Abraham . A similar model sees Israel being sent to Abraham’s Ur (Babylon) as “a husband sends his unsatisfactory wife “back home” . Whatever the model, it was this final return that prepared the world for the coming of the Messiah.

The fate of Jerusalem in 586BC should server as a constant reminder of the holiness of God and of His sovereign, superintending chastisement. But as Jeremiah insists, God’s people must persevere through trusting His faithfulness. In Calvin’s exposition of Lamentations 3:24, he writes, “The prophet intimates in this verse that we cannot stand firm in adversities, except we be content with God alone and His favor, for as soon as we depart from him, any adversity that may happen to us will cause our faith to fail. It is then the only true foundation of patience and hope to trust in God alone.”

Even in the midst of the temporal judgment of sin, God’s good purpose of grace towards His people will stand.

Introduction

Hello, my name is Jason Bader. I was born and raised in Ft. Worth, Texas and is my current residence. I am an only child, which is probably a good thing for my parents because I am sure just one of me is enough to keep them busy. I was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes when I was twelve, took four to five shots a day before I started on the pump. I love classic hymns such as A Mighty Fortress is our God and oldies rock like The Beatles. My main interests are philosophy, theology, history, literature, and playing the guitar. I am a Christian, was born into a Christian family with a Calvinistic theological perspective. I love having philosophical and theological discussions, but I mostly enjoy apologizing (making a defense) for the Christian faith not only as a legitimate worldview, but also as the worldview that matches reality the closest. That pretty much covers it; hope you enjoy reading my thoughts and perspectives. God bless.

Reformed Epistemology

For years Christian apologists have fought the good fight for the existence of God under a burden of proof given by their opponents. While creating rational defenses for the existence of God (positive apologetics) has had a rich history, it does have some weaknesses that have been exposed. The criteria that the skeptics have demanded is that in order for any belief system to be considered “rational” it must live up to the “standard” that one must have sufficient evidence before it can be justly believed. The Christian philosopher, Alvin Plantinga, has attempted to demonstrate that one does not need to “prove” God’s existence in order for that belief to be considered rational. What is the problem with positive apologetics? Alvin Plantinga (basing his work upon the writings of Herman Bavinck) gives us three reasons why natural theology simply doesn’t work:

Reason 1:Although insightful, the theistic arguments tend to presume what they attemptto prove. The proofs are claimed to lead us to God; however, these arguments do not actually lead us to the definition usually assumed of God. Perhaps they can lead us to a Prime Mover, but they certainly do not lead us to an omni-benevolent, omnipotent, omniscient, and omni-present Christian understanding of God. Most evidential arguments presume that the God of Scripture is the arrived at Prime Mover instead of proving it. Natural theology only tends to exert an influence on people who are open to believing God already. Therefore, the proofs serve to give a final push towards the direction someone is already heading, instead of overthrowing firm convictions.

Reason 2: Scripture is clear that our faith is not based on evidence, as that woulddefeat the nature of faith: Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see”. Scripture never tries to prove the God it is writing about; rather, it assumes that He is. The starting point for the Scriptures is that God exists and works from there. There are no scriptural models of rational proofs for the existence of God. Therefore, positive apologetics and natural theology is claimed by some to be technically unbiblical. Plantinga suggests that instead of basing our faith on the foundations of the naturalist’s demand for evidence, the Christian should assume that God exists and work from there. He will then seek to demonstrate that the Christian can still be rational despite a lack of “proof.”

Reason 3: Finally, Plantinga demonstrates by example that positive apologetics beingplaced under the burden of evidence is unwarranted. There are numerous examples of things we believe in without proof. For example: we have no proof the past ever existed, that there are other minds (people who think like we think), or even of an external world. These notions are presumptions of reality, despite the fact that we have no evidence for them. The skeptic answers that such beliefs are believed in simply because there is no reason to believe in any other theory(ies). However, this does not constitute evidence; these remain presuppositions. The point is that belief in these examples is not criticized for being irrational, even when there is no evidence for them. Why should the theist be considered irrational for believing in God when it meets that same level as these universally held beliefs; that is, without proof either?

As strength to one’s faith, the proofs serve a purpose; however, to base belief in God entirely upon natural proofs seems to do Him an injustice. We have a deep, personal relationship with God, one that is deeper than the relationships we have with fellow humans -- romantic or otherwise. When we consider that have no proof for the existence of other minds, perhaps there should be an insistence that we believe in our spouses on rational proofs; a rather unromantic notion. It would be rather analytic at best to believe in your wife on the basis of rational proofs. The same can be said of God. We believe in Him because He is there and we have faith that He loves us instead of believing in the cold, impersonal, deistic god that the natural “proofs” appear to yield.

Those whose faith is guided by natural proofs might find their faith (or at least as they understand their faith) threatened as “evidences” come and go, whether they are true or false. Certainly Copernicus was such a threat to one understanding of faith; evolution is also a threat to another understanding. Any theory as to the origins of the universe could threaten the faith of those who believe on the basis of proofs. And the evidences may ultimately prove false, such as the fleeting claims of spontaneous generation.

Philosophically, after Kant wrote his critiques on the Thomistic proofs generations of believers found their faith weakened and shaken because of reliance upon evidences. Plantinga argues that such reliance is unnecessary, especially in light of the overwhelming universality of the belief in God.

Calvin made an important point that humanity has within itself an innate “awareness of the divine.” God has revealed Himself in the minds of all men through nature; this revelation is repressed in man by the sensual effects of sin but remains nonetheless. Therefore, men naturally think metaphysically and towards the divine. It is simply that some people repress the revelation of God better than others.

This provides a starting point for Plantinga’s defense of the rationality of belief in God. Although we have acknowledged the problems with the classical arguments, we must continue to defend against the charge of an irrational belief system. Plantinga seeks to do this by justifying belief in God without evidence.

As background, there are two types of belief: basic belief and non-basic belief. The former is a belief that does not have another belief as its foundation. Plantinga calls such a belief as “properly basic”. The latter is a belief that rests upon other beliefs as foundational. What Plantinga will attempt to show is that belief in God can be considered to be properly basic.

Naturalists have for many years been allowed the privilege of determining the proper criteria for determining what may be considered rational. Often this takes the form of strong rationalism or strong foundationalism. Ironically, they have not had a good history of creating such criteria. None of the standards of rationality proposed to date avoid being self-contradicting. The criteria can not live up to itself. For example, criterion based upon a purely empirical standard of knowledge fails because the criterion itself cannot be empirically proven.

This begs the question: “Why must the skeptic be the only one who is qualified to create an epistemic criterion?” Plantinga denies that they should be and has offered his own.

As noted earlier, our noetic structure (the structure that contains and categorizes all of our beliefs) contain both basic and non-basic beliefs. Everyone has a noetic structure; meaning that everyone has a set of basic beliefs not founded upon any more basic belief. If basic beliefs can be legitimately presupposed, then there should be no reason why the belief in God cannot be considered to be properly basic.

However, there is an objection. On the surface it seems as though the gates would then be wide open for any system of belief whatsoever. It might be called “scientific” or “religious”, but it may just be stupidity – yet still be defended as rational. The question now that begs to be answered is: “How do we maintain the Christian belief in God without proofs and still be considered rational, all the while denying beliefs that lean towards the ridiculous?”

Famous skeptics have presented this objection using various examples. David Hume compared believing in God to believing that there is a flying tea cup orbiting Mars. Richard Dawkins popularly compared religious belief to believing in what he called the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Alvin Plantinga calls this category of objection the Great Pumpkin Objection (a reference to the Peanuts character Linus’ belief that the Great Pumpkin returns every Halloween). What is being said here is that if one may believe without proof, then any bizarre thing may be believed in!

Plantinga’s response seems to blend presuppositional apologetics with an argument from universality. The skeptics’ epistemic criterion has already been shown to be self-defeating. Do we then consider them to be irrational? No; because it perfectly within their epistemic right to have a presupposition that the universe is a closed system. Accordingly, is the Christian irrational for not having evidences by which his beliefs may be justified? No; he too is well within his epistemic right to believe in an open universe with God as its keeper. Ultimately, it becomes a question of presuppositions.

However, may then an individual who believes in the Great Pumpkin also be considered rational? The answer should be negative because a belief in a flying, sentient pumpkin lacks sufficient testimony in the human experience. The main difference between faith in God and faith in voodoo, the Great Pumpkin, the tea cup orbiting around Mars, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster is that none of these latter things are believed universally or held in common history. On the other hand, belief in deity has always existed.

Atheism occurs in individuals and is a minority opinion. No culture has ever been uncovered that had an atheistic foundation. Theism has always existed. Is the rational human being a novelty that was birthed during the Enlightenment? Should we consider a Plato or an Aristotle to be irrational for defending a belief in God? In light of anthropology and history, if anyone should answer the charge of irrationality it should be the skeptic. A popular illustration is given in this analogy: Let’s say a group of twenty people were sitting in a circle. If nineteen of those people believed that a chair was sitting in the middle of the circle, what should they think of the one who asked “what chair?”? Who should be considered irrational? The burden of proof rests with the person who does not see the chair, not the nineteen people who agree in the reality of the chair in the middle the circle. Applied to the question of belief in God, atheism has always been the minority opinion; and is in fact a relatively new and novel presupposition.

The skeptics are those who are denying the existence of the chair in a room full of those who affirm that there is a chair; and yet the gavel has been given to the skeptic to rule upon what is rational and what is gabble. The Christian should be under no such burden of proof.

Plantinga has shown that one may believe in God without fear of criticism. The skeptic has a criterion of rationality that is self-defeating; therefore, it is just as much founded on a presupposition of faith as the Christian. And here is where evidences can play a proper role. Positive apologetics do not need to be abandoned. Once belief and non-belief can be shown to be equally based upon presupposition, positive apologetics can be brought to bear to demonstrate the superiority of the Christian presupposition of belief in God. The burden is no longer under a false standard of empirical evidences but in the reasonability of the theistic explanation for reality.