The church often treats doubt as if it is a necessarily bad thing. It may not be enjoyable. But, in this video, I argue that doubt is instrumentally good because it, when treated properly, can lead to truth. I can even lead to a greater faith.
The church often treats doubt as if it is a necessarily bad thing. It may not be enjoyable. But, in this video, I argue that doubt is instrumentally good because it, when treated properly, can lead to truth. I can even lead to a greater faith.
As a last step in becoming a member of his local church, a friend of mine was interviewed by the pastor and asked whether he was certain that Christianity was true. Because my friend was a philosopher, he said no and a long discussion ensued.
Do we enjoy certainty when it comes to our Christian beliefs? Well this all depends on what we mean by ‘certainty.’ Philosophers, like my friend, typically have a very specific notion in mind when it comes to certainty. It means something like that the belief is held without the logical possibility of it being false. One literally can’t even conceive of the possibility of being mistaken.
In the seventeenth century, Descartes was after certainty. In his Meditations, he attempts to doubt all of his beliefs in order to find a belief that could be held with indubitability. For Descartes, if he could even imagine or conceive of some scenario, no matter how bizarre, where a belief is false, then the belief is not indubitable. He considered beliefs about the world of objects around him, including his own body, and realized that all that can be doubted.
You might ask, isn’t it indubitable that one has hands? Well, what if one is a brain in a vat stimulated to have hand-like experiences? Or suppose one is a disembodied soul who is made to think that one has hands but does not. Though bizarre, these scenarios are clearly possible and, thus, even a belief like this is not indubitable.
Descartes finally lands on a belief that is indubitable, and it’s the one line in philosophy that almost everyone has heard at some point: “I think, therefore, I am” (or, in the Meditations, “I am, I exist”). The idea is that he couldn’t doubt his own existence since there would always be some thinking thing doing the doubting. That is, there’s always an “I” doing the doubting. Thus, by doubting his existence, he proves it.
Philosophers tend to have this Cartesian notion of certainty in mind when they talk about certainty. And there’s very little that is genuinely indubitable. On my own view, once we grasp basic mathematical facts (such as 2+3=5), this becomes indubitable for us. Given what we mean by such facts, we can’t conceive of these beliefs being false. Logical facts are like this as well.
When it comes something like that Jesus was raised from the dead at a certain time in history, this is not like a mathematical fact. This is an empirical fact. That I have hands is also an empirical fact. Just like I can doubt that I have hands, I can doubt that Jesus was raised from the dead.
I take it this is precisely what the Apostle Paul is implying in 1 Corinthians 15:13-14:
If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.
Paul implies that it is conceivable that Christ has not been raised since he also points at what is logical entailed by this possibility if it were so. He doesn’t believe it, but he can definitely conceive of it. Notice we can’t conceive of 2+3=5’s being false. But Paul (and we) can conceive of the possibility of Christ not being raised and it has logical consequence. This makes it such that it is possible to doubt in this technical Cartesian sense.
Now this isn’t saying anything all that controversial. I promise. I’m just saying when it comes to the central Christian claim (i.e., Jesus’s resurrection), we don’t enjoy Cartesian or mathematical certainty. We don’t enjoy Cartesian certainty about my belief that I have hands, but I don’t lose much sleep about that. It was Cartesian certainty that my friend had in mind when he was interviewed by the pastor. However, what the pastor likely meant was not Cartesian certainty, but something more to do with confidence (or perhaps conviction is a good word here).
I am fully confident Christianity is true. In fact, I’ve given my life to it. I’ve walked away from a lot of things given that I believe with confidence that Christ has plans and intentions for my life. Paul, also, gave up his life because he became convinced that Christianity is true. Being completely confident in the truth of Christianity is consistent with the mere possibility that Christianity is false. It is even consistent with having (not just Cartesian) doubts from time to time.
This is important because if Christianity is indubitable, then there’s something wrong with us if we ever have doubts. Moreover, evidence and reason is completely pointless. Once we grasp the concepts of a mathematical fact, we don’t need empirical evidence for their truth. But if it is itself an empirical fact of history such as the resurrection, then evidence matters.
We want to work towards confidence, but this, it seems, requires us to consider the case for Christianity.
We are sometimes told faith is a bad or unreliable epistemology. The idea seems to be that believing something on faith (you know, belief without evidence) is a terrible or unreliable way to arrive at the truth. Now I think this is a hot mess of confusion. First, I agree believing something without evidence is a bad approach to finding truth. But I don’t even think that faith is belief, much less belief without evidence. I think this is a terrible way of thinking of faith and one nobody should accept. Secondly, I don’t think faith is, in any interesting sense, an epistemology. It’s certainly related to epistemological issues (just as many philosophical issues have epistemological issues in the neighborhood), but it is not itself an epistemology and, thus, it can’t be a bad epistemology.
Let’s unpack. What does it mean to call something an epistemology? Strictly speaking “epistemology” is the study of the nature of knowledge and justification (or some cognate of justification, such as warrant). But I don’t think this is what a person has in mind here. It seems the term ‘epistemology’ is being used as a way of knowing. So, for example, forming beliefs on the basis of sense perception (such as seeing) is, for most, a reliable way of knowing. It’s reliable even though it is possible we are hallucinating or otherwise mistaken. We don’t typically get straightforward sense based beliefs wrong and, even when we do, the beliefs are still very rational to hold (more on this below). In short, seeing is a reliable epistemology.
So the claim seems to be that faith is a way of knowing and, as such, it is a bad way of knowing. Why think faith is an unreliable way of knowing? This is thought obvious because faith is understood in a way popular among internet atheists and uninformed Christians, namely, faith is belief without evidence. But as I’ve argued before (here and here) this is not the Christian notion of faith (even if some uninformed Christians are willing to embrace it). The Christian (and biblical) notion of faith is, as I’ve argued, ventured trust. It is where we place our lived out trust or faith in God.
When one talks about a way of knowing, one is talking about a basis upon which one believes. A belief can come in a variety of different ways. What makes it one way of (possibly) knowing versus another is upon what the belief is based. If the basis makes one’s belief likely true, then this is a proper epistemic basis and the belief is justified. If it doesn’t make the belief likely, then it is unjustified.[1] For example, if I believe that p on the basis of wishful thinking, then I have no good reason for thinking that p will be true. It’s too easy (and common) for what I wish to be the case to turn out false. Just ask a diehard sports fan whose team typically doesn’t do well! Despite their wishing it to be the case, year after year, it just isn’t.
Contrast this to visual experience. When I believe that p on the basis of clearly seeing p, it is not easy for my belief to be false. If I look out my window and see a tree and believe, on the basis of this experience, that there is a tree out my window, then it will very likely be true. It’s possible that someone has placed a realistic cardboard cutout of a tree outside my window (in which case, my belief is false) but this is an extraordinary situation.
When we think about faith as a basis for belief, it’s difficult to know what that even means if we think of faith as ventured trust. Think about this. What is it to believe on the basis of faith? It seems this should be reversed. We typically venture on something or someone once we have good reason to believe in its or their trustworthiness. I came to believe that my wife is extremely trustworthy early in our relationship. But this intellectual belief preceded my genuinely placing my trust in her.
Likewise, there are many who have come to the place of Christian belief, but they have never ventured on Christ. They may even believe Jesus was born of a virgin and rose from the dead (showing up to church on Christmas and Easter), but have never made that step of genuine faith.
But this all turns on how we understand the term ‘faith.’ As I understand it, there’s a medieval notion that understands faith as a direct confrontation of God. If that’s how one understands it, then, sure, faith can be the basis of belief. But this has always struck me as a strained use of the notion. If faith is just wishful thinking without evidence, then, again, I’d agree that is an inappropriate basis for our Christian beliefs.
If one thinks of faith as a species of trust, then it seems to follow faith is NOT a way of knowing. That is, faith is not an epistemology.
[1] For my epistemologist readers, I’m glossing over a lot of issues in epistemology for simplicity’s sake.
Is the Bible a book of fables and mythology? For some, this seems all too obvious. After all, there are many fantastic (in the technical sense) stories from start to finish. Given these stories, some think the Bible, and all that it claims, can be dismissed as mere fiction.
But for me, it just doesn’t read that way. When one really sits down and spends time reading the Bible, one notices sensational claims, but one should also notice a general lack of sensationalism in the telling of the stories.
Overall, the Bible does not lack in imagery. There are sections of Scripture that paint in bright colors and imaginative word pictures. When one reads the Psalms, Isaiah, or Revelation, there is no shortage of literary beauty. However, when a biblical author is describing actual fact, it is typically straightforward and even mundane. This is not to say the narratives lack literary beauty, but just that there seems to be a lack of obvious embellishment in the storyline despite the fact that it may be describing extraordinary events.
A good example of this is the account of Jesus walking on the water. This story shows up in 3 of the Gospels. Matthew provides the longest account:
Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone. But the boat was already a long distance from the land, battered by the waves; for the wind was contrary. And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea. When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:22-27).
As can be seen, this is incredible and can honestly be difficult to believe given the supernatural element. A guy is claimed to have walked on the water. It’s extraordinary, but the details here are rather mundane and matter of fact. It doesn’t fill out the account with drama and imagery. It just says “And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea.”
[share-quote author=”Travis Dickinson” via=”travdickinson”] The unreal stories of Jesus are told in realistic ways. [/share-quote]
This seems unusual if these accounts are fabricated. If a person is going to go to the trouble of making up a story about Jesus walking on the water, one would think it would be spiced up a bit with more special effects. Instead this unreal story reads realistically. It is written, well, you know, as if it actually happened. It reads as if the author doesn’t know what to do with the fact that a dude walked on water, but here you go, here’s what happened.
Now this is decidedly not a knockdown drag out argument. But I want to suggest it is a mark of authenticity. That is, it does lend some credence to the idea that the authors of the Bible were witness to extraordinary facts and their agenda was to share straightforwardly what happened. It fits as a piece of a broader cumulative case for the veracity of Scripture.
The fact that these stories include miracles is still going to be a stumbling block for many. I do get that. But we should ask ourselves, if one was genuinely witness to miracles, how would we expect these to be reported? I’ve come to the conclusion for a variety of reasons that the Bible contains descriptions of genuinely miraculous events and reports them as witnessed.
Last week, my post, entitled “Please stop saying ‘Atheism is not a belief’” generated a lot of discussion on various online discussion groups. A number of atheists took issue with me telling them what they believe and (sometimes kindly) suggested that I stop saying that.
Fair enough. If you, the atheist, really do not have beliefs about God (broadly construed as the greatest conceivable being with all perfection who exists outside of and has created the universe) and his existence, then so be it. I wasn’t trying to shift the burden of proof or otherwise trick anyone. I really just think a dialogue where both sides lay out the case for their respective views is far more fruitful.
Also, I honestly think there is evidence for atheism (as a belief). Those evidences are at least:
Again, I of course don’t find this case persuasive. I think there are good responses to the problem of evil and divine hiddenness, and I think there are many theistic arguments that are sound. But really intelligent (professional philosopher) atheists disagree. They, with reason, believe that God does not exist.
And this seems to me to be a stronger position than merely lacking belief. That is, it is stronger to say, on the basis of evidence, there is (or is likely) no God. It seems weaker to say the theist hasn’t YET made her case and therefore we lack theistic belief.
After all, don’t you, the atheist, think the argument from evil is a good argument? Here’s one version of that argument:
Be careful what you say here because the conclusion is that there is no God. If you say it is a good argument, then this is to say that the premises rationally support the conclusion/claim that there is no God. That’s going to suggest you affirm the conclusion (which makes it a belief). But if you merely lack a belief, then what do you say about this argument?
But okay, if it is just a lack of belief, so be it. I think it would make for a better dialogue for us both to present evidence for our views. If you don’t think so, okay. But let’s make a deal. If you would like for theists to stop saying atheism is a belief, then please stop saying faith is belief without evidence.
In the discussion boards last week, many atheists got very upset that I would define for them what atheism is, but felt perfectly free (sometimes in the same post) to say Christian faith is belief without evidence.
Have you ever noticed there is not one Christian who has defined faith that way? Doesn’t it strike you as a little strange that you are building a case against Christianity using your own definitions of faith rather than what the scholars of the faith say. Shouldn’t that suggest that perhaps you are building a wee bit of a straw man?
Now I’m perfectly willing to grant that Christians have talked about faith this way before. We have A LOT of work to do in the Christian community. But this is using what lay people say in order to critique Christianity as a whole. Wouldn’t it be more charitable and rational to critique the claims of its scholars?
On most views, faith is seen as an act of trust. It is not, in this sense, a belief at all. Evidence then is very important to faith since it guides us to those things that are trustworthy. I like to use the example of an airplane. None of us really know how an airplane works. Now we might know a thing or two about flight, but most of us really don’t know how an airplane can cruise 6 miles off the ground. But we know enough about the reliability of an airplane and flight as a mode of travel to entrust ourselves to it. We have good evidence from statistics to testimony to past experiences, etc., to get on board and literally place our faith in the airplane.
Likewise, (rational) Christians have considered the evidence, find the case for Christianity persuasive, and have, consequently, entrusted themselves to the Christian way of life. That’s Christian faith. There are plenty of things we don’t know about how all this works (just like the airplane), but we trust on the basis of evidence. We have faith. We have given our lives to the truth of Christianity. (I say more about this here)
As a side note, when you define faith as belief without evidence this also shuts down dialogue. The reason for this is, first, because this just isn’t true for most Christians. Second, if you think faith is belief without evidence, then the debate is over. Evidence has been defined out of the discussion and so we are no longer discussing the rationality of our respective positions. Mine has defined as a position of belief without evidence.
So we do we have a deal? I won’t say you believe that God does not exist and you don’t say faith is belief without evidence.
A lack of belief
It’s become excruciatingly predictable for atheists who operate on a pop level to clarify that atheism, for them, is not a belief. It is, as they say, a lack of belief. They will point out that there is a difference between saying “I believe there is no God” (which is a belief) and saying “I do not believe there is a God” (which is a mere lack of belief). Many atheists will say they only lack a belief and this defines their atheism.
Now I’m not sure where this came from, but the talking point memo has spread far and wide.
Why does the atheist claim atheism is the mere lack of belief? The reason for this is that atheists don’t think they need to justify their atheism. Beliefs are the sorts of things that need to be justified by reason and evidence. If atheism isn’t a belief, then they need not shoulder any burden of proof for their atheism. So the theist is stuck having to meet some (usually extraordinarily high) burden of proof while the atheist gets to sit back and poke holes in whatever the theist says. It’s really quite brilliant as a rhetorical dodge.
They will often say that most of us are a-Santa-Clausists or a-tooth-fairyists, but it is not like we’ve justified these beliefs. There simply is no evidence for Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy and so we lack these beliefs.
A plea
If I may, may I talk with you, the atheist, for a minute. Please stop saying this! Let me give you a couple of reasons why.
For one, it shuts down rather than fosters dialogue. It is way easier to shoot holes in a view than it is to defend a view. If you are engaged in a formal debate (especially if there’s prize money involved!), then it makes sense to put yourself in the best possible position to win the debate. However, if you and I are dialogue partners, both attempting to know truth about these matters, then it seems infinitely better for both of us to lay out a case for our respective views and then we can, you know, talk about the case for both positions.
Second, I suspect you do have beliefs about God’s existence.
To see this, let’s first say what a belief is. A belief is simply the affirmation of a proposition or claim. Belief states always have a propositional content picked out by a “that clause.” A belief is always in the form of “I believe that p.” I believe that grass, when living, is green. Or I believe that Coke is better than Pepsi. Or I believe that the Tooth Fairy does not exist. Or I believe that Jesus rose from the dead. The contents of these beliefs are the following propositions:
Notice that one can wonder about or consider the truth of these propositions/claims without affirming that they are true. But once one comes to assent or affirm a proposition’s truth, then it is a belief.
Beliefs do not have to be held with 100% certainty. I believe that my car is in the parking lot outside of my office building. I affirm this proposition, but I am quite aware I could be wrong about this. The car could have been stolen or towed or my wife could have picked it up, and my belief would be false. I don’t have anything close to 100% certainty, but it would be absurd to say that I don’t thereby believe it.
Beliefs held with less than 100% certainty also do not require faith. I get it, you do not want to have anything that smacks of faith. Rest assured, one can intellectually assent to something (i.e., believe it) without placing one’s faith in that thing. Indeed I can believe that airplanes are a safe mode of travel without ever getting aboard.
So a belief is simply the assent to a claim/proposition.
Don’t you, the atheist, think that it is true that there is no God (even if you are not 100% certain about this)? You’ve reflected on this claim, you’ve considered the evidence for and against. Haven’t you concluded that there is no God?
Not identical states
Now it’s true that believing something is not the case and lacking a belief about something are not identical states. It is logically possible for one to say it is true “I do not believe p” but it is false that “I believe that not p.” But when is this the case? This only seems to be the case when we haven’t sufficiently reflected on some issue. There are a lot of historical controversies about which I don’t have beliefs simply because I don’t know enough about them (e.g., who was involved with the JFK assassination).
But this doesn’t seem to be where most atheists are at. They seem to have made up their mind that there is no God. I mean I could be wrong, but their tone (especially in internet groups) suggests that they have some very strong beliefs about the existence of God and it is not just a lack of belief that they spend so much time going on about.
I do not believe in the Tooth Fairy, but I also believe that there is no Tooth Fairy. Do I have justification for this belief? Of course I do! My kids have lost about 40 teeth thus far and I’ve got good reason to think there is no one (but me!) that’s providing candy in exchange for a tooth.
The irony of this dodge is twofold. For one, the atheist begs off of having to provide justification for his or her atheism while simultaneously acting as if theirs is the position of reason and evidence. If the atheist is all about reason and evidence, then he or she shouldn’t be reticent to provide reason and evidence for his or her atheism.
Second, there is indeed reason and evidence for atheism. I’m happy to admit that! Now I obviously don’t think the case for atheism is, all things considered, persuasive. However, there are some objections to theism that I think have some punch and there are plenty of very intelligent atheists who think these justify their atheism. So why not just lay out the case for atheism and let’s have a dialogue?
A way forward
Even if you, the atheist, are not convinced, I think I have a way forward. Maybe you merely lack a belief in God. I don’t think so, but okay. What about the likelihood of there being a God? Do you think that it’s likely the case that God does not exists? Or do you just lack this belief too? It seems odd indeed for to say that one lacks a belief about the likelihood of there being a God.
I suspect that you do believe that God likely does not exist. If so, it seems we could then have a productive conversation. Let me lay out why I think there is good evidence to believe that God exists and you can lay out reasons and justification for why you believe this is likely false. Before you know it, we may just have a dialogue!
[for more info on this issue see Beliefmap’s post on this issue]
Not long ago, Richard Swinburne was asked whether he ever doubts the truthfulness of Christianity. Who is Richard Swinburne? Swinburne, by most accounts, is THE top philosopher of religion in the world and much of his work centers on defending Christian theism. Virtually all of his writing is scholarly, but his contribution to the discussion is inestimable and will be read for centuries to come. So when the top academic defender of Christianity is asked about his doubts, it is worth tuning in.
Probability of truth
The first point he makes is the case for Christianity is one of probability and not certainty. This is important. The case, if successful, makes Christianity likely true, but doesn’t guarantee or entail that it’s true. By being merely probable, he doesn’t mean that he only sort of believes it. I take it that he fully and confidently believes Christianity is true, but he thinks the evidence gives one good reason (i.e., makes one rational) to believe but falls short of an absolute guarantee. A claim can have a 99% percent chance of being right, but even this still falls short of certainty.
Falling short of absolute certainty is not unusual given that ALL our empirical beliefs are merely probable without an absolute guarantee. Swinburne uses the example of a rocket ship. As the statistics will bear out, the science behind launching projectiles and people into space always has a chance at being wrong. But so do our more mundane beliefs. We believe that our car is right now parked in the parking lot in the usual spot. This is typically a very rational belief in that we don’t often get it wrong. However, this is clearly a probability as the car could have been stolen, towed, picked up by your family member, spontaneously blown up or you just forgot you parked it at the street.
Looking for doubts
If the case for Christianity is a probability, then “inevitably one has doubts.” And, Swinburne says, “in fact, I look for them.”
[share-quote author=”Richard Swinburne” via=”travdickinson”] Certainly I have doubts, and I look for them. [/share-quote]
This is a good word. Swinburne seems to think this is a thing for professionals but I think we should all search out and explore our doubts. I’m lucky enough to do this for a living. But if one thinks Christianity is true, then this seems to be the exact right posture. We should look for our doubts and see how well our view holds up in light of the doubts. If it doesn’t hold up, then we should change our minds. Sound scary? If it is true, we’ve got nothing to worry about.
Just to clarify, I’m not saying that if we have some unanswered questions, we should reject the faith. I’m not saying if we have 99 good reasons to believe and 1 reason falls short, we should reject the faith. I’m simply saying that we honestly consider the evidence. This is normal for any belief we have. I myself found the evidence to be compelling. And so has the world’s preeminent philosopher of religion. That, it seems, should count for something.
Two days ago, an article was published declaring Eugene Peterson had come to affirm same-sex issues and marriage. Then there was the blow up. Eugene Peterson is an iconic luminary type of figure for many Christians and this affirmation was either a big problem or a reason for celebration depending, of course, where one stood on these issues. Then comes a retraction by Peterson who said he was put on the spot and, in his words, “I haven’t had a lot of experience with [navigating same-sex relationships issues].”
But his retraction leaves many questions unanswered. In the original interview, when asked whether he would perform a same-sex wedding ceremony, he answered with a one word “yes.” He’s retracted this and said:
When put on the spot by this particular interviewer, I said yes in the moment. But on further reflection and prayer, I would like to retract that. That’s not something I would do out of respect to the congregation, the larger church body, and the historic biblical Christian view and teaching on marriage. That said, I would still love such a couple as their pastor. They’d be welcome at my table, along with everybody else.
But why did he say “yes” in the first place? It’s a bit hard to believe that, as thoughtful a guy as Eugene Peterson is, he doesn’t have worked out views on this. Again, he’s a hero of pastoral ministry and the issue of whether pastors should perform same-sex weddings has been a central issue in pastoral ministry for at least a decade or more. Has he not had young pastors who have come to him for wisdom and insight on this question?
He was also very positive about the fact that the church he pastored was accepting of a music minister who was gay and said, seemingly referring to being gay, “it’s not a right or wrong thing as far as I’m concerned.” So far as I know, Peterson has not addressed or clarified these things in his retraction.
So there are a lot of questions here. And what he has said publically is, at least, a bit confusing. And I’m of course going to let Peterson speak for himself.
This does, however, highlight a difficulty of message. My sense reading less than 1000 words of Eugene Peterson’s thoughts about same-sex issues is that he is clearly affirming of the person with same-sex attraction. Peterson says “they’d be welcome at my table, along with everyone else.” And, as he’s now made clear, he affirms biblical teaching on marriage and sexual ethics.[1]
I imagine this is where a lot of us are at. We have friends and family members who are same-sex attracted and we think, as people, they should be able to pursue Jesus too. And yet we hold to biblical views about these things and think the practice of homosexual relationships is morally wrong.
But it is VERY difficult to articulate this without either sounding affirming of homosexual practice or coming across as rejecting the person who is same-sex attracted. It doesn’t help that both sides seem ready to pounce depending on which side we lean. My sense is that Peterson was trying to emphasize that he accepts and would love a person who is same-sex attracted (even to the extent of momentarily being willing to perform a same-sex wedding), but it came across as he was affirming of same-sex marriage and sexual ethics.
This, it seems, is especially difficult for a church in their messaging. As a church, we want to say that everyone is accepted. “Come as you are” is a familiar refrain. But does that make a church an LGBT accepting church? If a church is “LGBT accepting” does that mean they accept same-sex attracted people who can pursue Jesus and biblical holiness (I hope so) or does that mean that the homosexual practice is morally acceptable (I hope not)?
It is difficult to message but I think it’s not impossible. I think we can and have to maintain both the acceptance and love of the person who is same-sex attracted and our convictions about biblical teaching on homosexual practice.
We need to make clear that all people, no matter what they have done or what sorts of things they deal with, are accepted as people. All people should be welcome at your table (and your church) too. We can be friends and remain family members with people whose lifestyles are contrary to biblical teaching. It may limit the relationship some, but it shouldn’t, in principle, disqualify it. Many of us can and do have friends and family members who sleep around, or who, from time to time, take recreational drugs, or who don’t parent well, or who engage in legal but immoral business practices. Just to be clear, I’m not referring to womanizers, drug addicts, child abusers, or the mob. I’m just saying there are likely people who have “attractions” to practices that are out of step with Scripture and those are not typically grounds to disassociate. And these things are certainly not attractions that put them out of the reach of the gospel. Same goes with same-sex attraction issues.
But we also have to make clear that Scripture teaches a particular way of living one’s life. There are some things (a lot of things, in fact!) that are generally accepted, but are morally prohibited by Scripture. There’s of course room for lots of discussion. It’s not always obvious how to apply the claims of Scripture with the thorny issues of politics, economics, business, and morality. By and large, it seems to me that Scripture is clear on sexual ethics. Jesus and the writers of the New Testament epistles seemed to see how crucially important it was to live sexually pure lives and in God intended ways. It’s, by definition, an intimate issue and one that can have effect on the rest of our lives. In a word, the biblical view is that sex is intended for marriage and marriage is in its very essence is a man/woman union.
There are many things in the Christian way of life that is difficult. I have an exceedingly difficult time loving and serving my wife as Jesus loved and served the church (Eph. 5:25). I also rarely succeed as loving my neighbor as myself (Matt. 22:39). Likewise, the sexual ethic is not easy. I imagine those who take themselves to be polyamorous (non-monogamous) will find it burdensome. It is difficult for almost everyone in the post-adolescent years. And it is going to be a hard word for those who are same-sex attracted. Virtue is not easy and we shouldn’t expect it to be. But I remain convinced living a life according to biblical teaching is the way of human flourishing.
So I don’t know what Peterson has in mind on these issues. I have a very deep respect for the man. He’s a really thoughtful guy and suspect what comes next will be good and we’ll be led to love others better in light of the way of Jesus. Perhaps the author of The Message will lead us towards how to message loving acceptance with biblical conviction.
Related post:
Bono and Eugene: Learning to Cuss without Cussing
[1] I won’t argue for this here, but a wide majority of Bible scholars see the Bible as clearly prohibiting any same-sex sexual relationship, which precludes affirmation of same-sex marriage.
Many unbelievers have claimed that the gospel, as an idea, is ridiculous. And I kind of agree.
It’s a REALLY big idea. In fact, it’s the biggest idea I know.
The Christian version of mere theism alone is a big idea. The idea is there is a transcendent God who is the greatest conceivable being who has all perfections. This God stands outside of the universe, having created the universe, but also literally holds all contingent reality into being at all moments of their existence.
That’s a big idea! We all have to stare at that for a little as it’s both a mouthful and it is at the edge of what we can comprehend. And we don’t really comprehend it, at least not in any full way. We can sort of kind of get our minds around grasping the words, but we don’t fully know what they mean in a worked out doctrine.
This is the only notion of God in which I’m interested. I’m not interested in a notion of God that is not consonant with the greatest conceivable being. If there is a god or gods who suffers any imperfection, then I’m not interested. It is only the greatest conceivable being who is worthy of worship and devotion.
This is a God to be feared with a biblical notion of fear. This is a God who is holy and just and can be justified in commanding death, or even causing death in a worldwide flood. In fact, he has the right to take my life. I realize how incredibly controversial all that is, but this is, on my view, the Christian God. This is part of the bigness and I accept the full package.
This is also a God who is personal. This is a God of love, faithfulness and steadfastness.
This is big, but the idea of the gospel is more outlandish than all that. This God who is the greatest conceivable being was born in a manger. This God, who stands outside of the universe and is the creator and sustainer of all, experienced hunger and thirst and acne (I’m guessing) and excitement and disappointment (he wept, after all). He lived a perfect life filled with love for others, but was never soft on sin.
This God held into being the very cross upon which he was crucified, the very humans who would do him harm, to die for those sins and every sin.
It’s ridiculous. It’s preposterous. As a professor of philosophy, I have familiarity with the great ideas in human history. I know of no bigger idea than this.
But I also happen to think it is true.
It’s what C.S. Lewis would call a true myth. By “myth”, Lewis did not mean it was fictional. Rather he saw the bigness of the gospel claims and the cosmic meaning and purpose the gospel provides. But it is not a pure or typical myth, for Lewis, since the Gospels involve historical claims of real people at real times. Pure myth is simply not the genre of the Gospels. He says:
I was by now too experienced in literary criticism to regard the Gospels as myths. They had not the mythical taste. And yet the very matter which they set down in their artless, historical fashion — those narrow, unattractive Jews, too blind to the mystical wealth of the Pagan world around them — was precisely the matter of great myths. If ever a myth had become a fact, had been incarnated, it would be just like this. And nothing else in all literature was just like this. Myths were like it in one way. Histories were like it in another, but nothing was simply alike. And no person was like the Person it depicted; as real, as recognizable, through all that depth of time… yet also so luminous, lit by a light from beyond the world, a god. But if a god — we are no longer polytheists — then not a god, but God. Here and here only in all time the myth must have become fact; the Word, flesh; God, Man. This is not “a religion,” nor “a philosophy.” It is the summing up and actuality of them all (Surprised by Joy).
It’s history and we thereby have evidence for these crazy claims. I find the evidence compelling, but I’ll be the first to say that it isn’t coercive. The evidence can be and is rejected.
However, there is a way in which the evidence coupled with the bigness and the beauty of the offer of the gospel becomes so very attractive, I’ve given my life to its truth.
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Christianity was never meant to be lived in isolation. Though there are ways in which Christianity concerns the individual (e.g., each of us must choose this day whom we will serve), the call has always been a call to community.
The need for community is especially pronounced when it comes to grappling with the deep and difficult questions of the faith. We need community. We need people in our lives with whom we share and think about our ideas on a deep level.
But not all community is equally good. A community full of folks exactly alike is not going to sufficiently challenge one to think carefully. Of course a community that is extremely hostile can also make it difficult since everything is under attack.
The best situation is to have community that is diverse.
I think everyone needs a community of likeminded folks where we can together explore the implications of our view and think about it rationally. For the Christian, this is often a church community. When I go to church on a Sunday morning, I expect to be challenged in how to live my life in light of the gospel and the claims of the Bible (its implications). I don’t expect a defense of the Bible every single Sunday before my pastor preaches from the Bible. He doesn’t need to. Most everyone there already believes that the Bible is source of divine authority. It is typically appropriate for him to simply preach assuming its truth. But we should also, as Christians, think carefully about Christianity, including what evidence there is for believing it is true. It is okay for this to be a community of likeminded individuals with shared assumptions working together in this intellectual pursuit.
We should also have a variety of people with whom we disagree but are friends. It is ideal when these are genuine friends. In other words, it is a great blessing to have people in our lives who really do care about us, but take a very different view on matters. This way, discussions don’t reduce to mere spitting matches of who can best the other with wit and well placed zingers. There is trust and the discussion is charitable.
Disagreement in community is a very good thing. But of these two types of community, this is typically the sort we lack. Christians may know some unbelievers, for example, but the relationship is often hostile (that is, there isn’t that mutual trust and charity). Or we are only “friends” with that person insofar as there is openness to be evangelized. But once this option is foreclosed on, so goes the friendship. I think this is at our own detriment. We of course need to have people with whom we agree, but we also desperately need those with whom we disagree in order to grapple with the deep and difficult issues of the faith.
This sort of community of diversity has at least two payoffs.
First, having a diverse community helps us to not go off the deep end intellectually. It is much more difficult, though not impossible, to have crazy beliefs while in this sort of community. The reason why this is so is that those who come at the things very differently will almost certainly push on the weakest and wildest parts of our views. So if we’ve got something crazy and we are in genuine dialogue with those who believe differently, they will likely push us to have good rational reasons for those beliefs or drop them because they are, well, crazy.
Second, having a diverse community will help us not give up our core beliefs too quickly. What I mean is that some bit of intellectual tenacity is a good thing. This tenacity comes when we know that we have friends who share our beliefs and (hopefully) have good reasons for them. It’s almost a certainty that at some point we will get into a discussion and realize that we really don’t have a good reason for some belief. We may find we need to drop the belief. However, being able to pose the challenge to our likeminded friends, we may find there is plenty of good evidence for the belief. If we had dropped it simply because we failed to muster much in terms of evidence on the spot, this would have been much too soon.
In short, don’t go at it alone. Embed yourself with likeminded folks as well as folks with whom you disagree.
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