Showing posts with label Christian god. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christian god. Show all posts

Friday, October 17, 2014

“Christian Epistemology”: The Blind Leading the Blind

Consider the following dialogue between Pastor Billy Bob and Lisa, a saved and sanctified church member troubled over basic questions about knowing.

Here are some study questions to keep in mind as you read this:

What is the source of Lisa's problem?

Why does Lisa have such a problem?

How would you answer Lisa’s questions?

What do you think is the proper solution to her persisting dilemmas?

How would Christians whom you know answer Lisa's questions?

If you are a Christian, how would you address Lisa's concerns? How do you address them in your own life?

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Petersen’s Failed Attempts to Refute Leonard Peikoff: Objection 3

This is the fourth entry in my series examining attempts by “Clarkian presuppositionalist” Jason Petersen to refute a series of statements by Objectivist philosopher Dr. Leonard Peikoff on the topic of the existence of a god.

The first entry in this series can be found here.

The second entry in this series (Objection 1) can be found here.

The third entry in this series (Objection 2) can be found here.

Dr. Peikoff’s statements in question can be found here.

Jason Petersen’s response to Peikoff can be found here.

In this entry I will examine Petersen’s attempts to refute Peikoff’s “Objection 3” against theism. In the present entry, we come to certain claims about “God’s nature” as Petersen would have us imagine it. Petersen raises a series of point-missing objections to one of Peikoff’s statements.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

How Bahnsen Gives Away the Farm in His Debate with Gordon Stein

Taking the points I make in my blog entry Presuppositionalist Pseudolosophy as a point of departure, we now turn to a poignant example in the annals of presuppositionalist debating history which shows how easily apologists succumb to the ignorance-riddled view of knowledge on which they base their sophistry.

Presuppositionalists make explicit appeals to products of human psychological activity, such as concepts, laws, propositions, etc., and make claims to the effect that they do not change and are not subject to space and time. Because of these attributes, theists associate such phenomena with the supernatural. They even go so far as to treat products of human psychological activity as though they were entities existing independent of human cognition, perhaps floating in the air or in some other dimension, and somehow they are pressed into our passive consciousnesses by means of supernatural force.

Often Christian apologists will interrogate non-Christians on whether they think everything that exists is “material” or physical. The underlying implication of such questions is that the theist has mind-independent phenomena in mind here. But then they quickly shift focus, perhaps for some apologetic expedience, to things which are mind-dependent. This becomes apparent when theists raise as examples things like truth, universals, mathematics, the laws of logic, etc.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

A Reply to Matthias on Objective Knowledge vs. the Subjectivism of Theism

This is the fourth installment of a series of replies I’ve been writing in response to a comment (yes, I know, just one comment) posted on my blog Confessions of a Vantillian Subjectivist by Matthias McMahon of the blog Choosing Hats. While I realize that four rather long posts in reply to a single comment left on one of my older blog entries may seem to some as a bit “over the top,” I caution readers not to think I’m finished with this yet. There will be more – at least one, maybe two... who knows! As I read Matthias’ comment and examined the surrounding issues, so many important points have come to mind, and what better than to develop them and share them with my readers here at my blog?

In the present entry I take up the portion of Matthias’ comment where he sought to explain the varying degrees of knowledge between different knowers in an attempt to defend the view that man’s knowledge is somehow “analogous” to the “knowledge” Christianity claims its god possesses. In my blog Confessions of a Vantillian Subjectivist, I argued essentially that, given the objectivity of man’s proper knowledge (acquired and validated by means of looking outward at reality) as opposed to the overt subjectivism which Christianity attributes to its god (whose objects of “knowledge” are products of its own “thinking” – instancing the looking inward model of “knowing”), there can be nothing either metaphysically or epistemologically analogous between the two.

This is because there can at root be nothing analogous between
(a) knowing by means of looking outward at objects which exist independent of one’s conscious activity, discovering them as objects which are not already pre-known, examining them by perceptual means, and identifying and integrating them by means of concepts (which condense a limitless categories of data into a single unit so that man can retain it, given the finite nature of his consciousness); and 
(b) “knowing” objects by means of looking inward at the contents of one’s own consciousness (which is already omniscient – i.e., already knows everything and thus cannot learn more), creating objects from that internal content by means of some type of conscious activity which we have never observed and can only imagine, retaining the ability to alter the identity of those objects at any time by a similar act of will, and lacking any need to condense entire categories of data into single units in order to retain it in consciousness, etc.
I hope to bring out some of the implications of this fundamental antithesis between how man knows and what could only be the case for the Christian god given Christianity’s descriptions of it, in the following interaction with Matthias’ comments.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Reply to Matthias on Imagination and Its Role in Theism

A visitor to my blog named Matthias recently posted several comments to various blogs of mine. Posting under the moniker McFormtist, this is apparently Matthias McMahon of the Choosing Hats blog. Since Chris Bolt’s departure from that blog and absence from the comments sections of my blog (and pretty much elsewhere so far as I can tell), it is nice to see one of CH’s crew over here at IP asking questions and participating in discussions. I welcome Matthias’s inquiry and find his friendly tone refreshing.

Matthias has posted comments inquiring on various aspects of my critique of theism on the following blog entries of mine:
The following is a reply to Matthias’s 15 Jan. comment to my blog A Proof that the Christian God Does Not Exist.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Rick Warden’s Ill-fated Effort to Refute the Argument from Metaphysical Primacy

Precisely one year ago today, on November 25, 2012, Rick Warden of the Templestream blog posted a blog entry titled A Refutation of Dawson Bethrick's Central Argument Against Theism. In this blog entry, Warden set out to achieve what the title suggests: he attempted to refute the argument from metaphysical primacy.

You see, Warden really wants his god to be real, and he wants his god-beliefs to be true. And like every good Christian, he wants everyone else to believe likewise and submit. Unfortunately, his zeal to vindicate his god-beliefs has clouded his critical faculties to a devastating degree.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Some Thoughts on Presuppositionalism and the Problem of Evil

Christian apologist Dan of Debunking Atheists agreeably affirms Greg Bahnsen’s solution to the problem of evil, which reads as follows:
God has a morally sufficient reason for the evil which exists. (Always Ready, p. 172)
Bahnsen offers this statement (for which he cites no biblical citation specifically supporting it) as an overlooked premise which satisfies the problem of evil:
1. God is all-good.
2. God is all-powerful.
3. Evil exists. (Ibid., p. 171)
Bahnsen adds to this formulation of the problem of evil the claim that his god “has a morally sufficient reason” for evil. Bahnsen does not tell us what that alleged reason is. He does not even suggest possible candidates for what it could or might be. Bahnsen’s concern is to claim that his god does have a reason for allowing and/or committing evil, and that reason is “morally sufficient.” In essence, Bahnsen is passing judgment on something he has not seen; he is pre-judging as “morally sufficient” something which he cannot even show actually exists, and whose identity is unknown. Bahnsen nowhere explains how we can morally evaluate something that is unknown, and yet attempts to solve the problem of evil by affirming a premise which does exactly this. Such prejudice is rash and baseless, and the opposite of morally responsible.

All this is to say that Bahnsen offers a defense against the problem of evil, but fails to validate a crucial component integral to that defense, namely the notion of a “morally sufficient reason” for evil. As we examine Bahnsen’s own statements around his proposed defense against the problem of evil, and Dan’s additional comments on the matter, consider what kind of mind is required to take the view that there is such a thing as a “morally sufficient reason” for evil. Bahnsen himself shows no indication that he winces at the idea; in fact, he seems gleeful in affirming it.

Bahnsen clues us in on the psychological process by which the Christian mind comes to the evaluation of reasons which are unknown, as “morally sufficient” when he states the following:
If the Christian presupposes that God is perfectly and completely good -- as Scripture requires us to do -- then he is committed to evaluating everything within his experience in the light of that presupposition. Accordingly, when the Christian observes evil events or things in the world, he can and should retain consistency with his presupposition about God's goodness by now inferring that God has a morally good reason for the evil that exists. God certainly must be all-powerful in order to be God; He is not to be thought of as overwhelmed or stymied by evil in the universe. And God is surely good, the Christian will profess -- so any evil we find must be compatible with God's goodness. This is just to say that God has planned evil events for reasons which are morally commendable and good. (Always Ready, pp. 171-172)
Observe Bahnsen’s procedure here, and notice how its entire weight is borne on faith-based assumptions:
Step 1: Assume on faith (i.e., on the basis of hope and desire) that there is a god.
Step 2: Assume in advance of anything else, that this god “is perfectly and completely good.”
Step 3: Commit yourself “to evaluating everything within [your] experience in light of [these assumptions]” – i.e., deliberately allow them to predetermine the outcome of any evaluation, inference, supposition, judgment, conclusion you may make about said god.
Step 4: When you observe evil in the world, “retain consistency with [these assumptions] about God’s goodness by now inferring that God has a morally good reason for the evil that exists.”
Step 5: Don’t worry about what specifically that reason might be; you might never know what it is (in fact, it’s preferable that you don’t know what it is). Bahnsen himself concedes that he has no idea what this “morally sufficient reason” could possibly be when he writes:
the Bible calls upon us to trust that God has a morally sufficient reason for the evil which can be found in this world, but it does not tell us what that sufficient reason is.
The apologist finds delight in such ignorance, pretending that it indicates some “higher knowledge” to which man has no access. The purpose here is not to establish the claim that the Christian god has a “morally sufficient reason” for evil. Rather, it is simply to assume, on the basis of prior assumptions accepted on faith, that whatever reason said god supposedly has is, sight unseen, a “morally good reason” for evil. Don’t even worry about knowing what such a reason could be; don’t try to hypothesize examples; don’t think critically about what you are expected to accept as knowledge. The important thing is not to evaluate specific instances, but to settle in your mind at any cost that whatever reason this god might have for allowing or committing evil, it’s a “morally good reason.”

Step 6: Rationalize Steps 4 and 5. For example, remind yourself that “God certainly must be all-powerful in order to be God; He is not to be thought of [i.e., imagined] as overwhelmed or stymied by evil in the universe. And God is surely good.” Given these assumptions which are affirmed in advance of contemplating anything that might be called evil in the world, pretend to have drawn the conclusion “[therefore] any evil we find must be compatible with God’s goodness.”

Step 7: Put out of your mind the fact that the very notion of evil being “compatible with God’s goodness” is indistinguishable from evil being compatible with the nature of an evil god. I.e., suppress genuine moral judgment in order to replace it with morally bankrupt prejudices resting on faith-based assumptions which are to be accepted in advance of any judgment for no good reason whatsoever (for to evaluate a reason as “good” would defy the very procedure under consideration).

Step 8: Having gone through Steps 1 through 7, pretend that you’ve established as a conclusion to prior reasoning that “God has planned evil events for reasons which are morally commendable and good.” Again, do not inquire as to what these reasons might be; what is important is that you presuppose that they are “morally commendable and good.”
If those reasons are in fact “morally commendable and good,” then, by deeming them as such, the apologist is essentially saying everyone should go and do likewise, for they are “morally commendable and good.” But what if everyone went around, like the Christian god, allowing and/or committing evil and claiming to have a “morally sufficient reason” for doing so? If this would not be a suitable formula for man’s choices and actions, then how can one call the Christian god’s supposed “reason” for allowing evil “morally commendable and good”?

In attempting to turn the problem of evil into merely an emotional difficulty as opposed to an actual contradiction, Bahnsen openly admits that he does not know what reason his god might have for allowing or using evil to achieve its ends:
The problem which men have with God when they come face to face with evil in the world is not a logical or philosophical one, but more a psychological one. We can find it emotionally very hard to have faith in God and trust His goodness and power when we are not given the reason why bad things happen to us and others. We instinctively think to ourselves, "why did such a terrible thing occur?" Unbelievers internally cry out for an answer to such a question also. But God does not always (indeed, rarely) provide an explanation to human beings for the evil which they experience or observe. "The secret things belong to the Lord our God" (Deuteronomy 29:29). We might not be able to understand God's wise and mysterious ways, even if He told us (cf. Isaiah 55:9). Nevertheless, the fact remains that He has not told us why misery and suffering and injustice are part of His plan for history and for our individual lives. (Always Ready, p. 173)
I have already written on a broader problem in Christianity, what I call the problem of imperfection, in my blog Was Adam Created Perfect? Bahnsen avoids addressing, even acknowledging, that Christianity is unable to resolve the inherent contradiction in affirming the view that the universe was created by a perfect creator, while imperfections exist in that creation. The problem of evil is essentially a more isolated aspect, or manifestation, of this broader problem, which few apologists ever consider.

In trying to downplay the logical conundrum raised by the problem of evil, Bahnsen proposes a solution which affirms the notion that evil is justifiable if one has a “morally sufficient reason” for it, and, apparently pleased with himself, proceeds to call the persistence of the problem of evil a “psychological” problem rather than a philosophical problem. Bahnsen thus announces that he sees no philosophical problem in affirming the notion that evil is justifiable if one has a supposedly “morally sufficient reason” for it.

He says that the psychological problem of evil arises as a result of not knowing what that reason might be, for not having a suitable answer to the question, “why did such a terrible thing occur?” Bahnsen’s claim that whatever reason his god has for allowing or using evil to achieve its ends, it is a “morally sufficient reason,” is intended to calm the believer’s mind by appeasing the wrong end of the contradiction: by camouflaging evil with the guise of goodness to make it seem acceptable.

Bahnsen complains that “Unbelievers internally cry out for an answer to such a question also,” but “unbelievers” are not the ones whose worldview brews such a philosophical quandary in the first place, nor is it the “unbeliever’s” worldview which posits the notion of a “morally sufficient reason” for allowing or using evil as the solution to the problem of evil.

In spite of the raging nature of this question, given its mystical premises, Bahnsen reports that “God does not always (indeed, rarely) provide an explanation to human beings for the evil which they experience or observe,” that “He has not told us why misery and suffering and injustice are part of His plan for history and for our individual lives.” Bahnsen even suggests that believers “might not be able to understand God's wise and mysterious ways, even if He told us.” So Bahnsen acknowledges that he does not know what reason his god might have for using evil to achieve its purposes, and says that he probably wouldn’t understand it even if he were to learn of it, and yet he still calls it “morally sufficient.” For Bahnsen, the moral is not the understood, but the obeyed. Understanding plays no central role in the Christian conception of morality.

The bottom line for Bahnsen and his worldview, then, is that evil is morally justifiable so long as one does not disclose his reasons for adopting its use. Something does not need to be known or understood in order to call it “morally sufficient,” and Bahnsen was the type of individual who found this “solution” to the problem of evil satisfying.

Bahnsen does affirm that evil is a serious issue. He writes:
It is important for the Christian to realize –indeed, to insist upon – the reality and serious nature of evil. The subject of evil is not simply an intellectual parlor game, a cavalier matter, a whimsical or relativistic choice of looking a things a certain way. Evil is real. Evil is ugly. (Ibid., p. 164)
But if Bahnsen takes evil so seriously, why then does he offer as his solution to the problem of evil the claim that his god has a “morally sufficient reason” for evil? In giving this as his solution to the problem of evil, Bahnsen is essentially conceding that his god is ultimately responsible for the reality of evil in the world; we have already seen that Bahnsen thinks that “misery and suffering and injustice are part of His plan for history and for our individual lives” (p. 173). And, presumably, since this god is supposedly both omnipotent as well as free, it should be able to achieve its ends and create a universe without evil ever coming into the picture. So the conclusion that the existence of any evil anywhere is ultimately the responsibility of the omnipotent creator which is supposed to have created everything in the first place, seems unavoidable. Indeed, if Bahnsen didn’t think his god were responsible for the reality of evil, he wouldn’t need to claim that his god has a “morally sufficient reason” for evil. As I pointed out above, Bahnsen does not tell us what “morally sufficient reason” his god supposedly has for the evil that exists in the world; he doesn’t even give an example of a reason which he considers “morally sufficient” for allowing or committing evil. Indeed, to do so, Bahnsen would simply be giving us a glimpse into his own views, which he prefers to keep private for obvious reasons. So it comes as no surprise that Bahnsen does not elaborate on this point.

Dan writes:
This can't be a discussion as to "God is going to clear up the mess." He will, but that is not an adequately sufficient answer for the non-believers here. The question the Atheists here have is not whether God will 'take care of it' but, why did God allow it? Why is there a mess to begin with? Is God sadistic or impotent?
Actually, the question is more like:
How could a good god, which is characterized as a “loving father,” choose to allow it?
Or, consider the following:
How is a god which allows evil, and/or makes use of evil to achieve its goals, any different from a god that is evil?
If the Christian god is supposed to be “all-good,” then presumably any action it chooses to do must originate from good intentions, since all its intentions would supposedly be good. Also, bear in mind that this god is supposedly in control of everything. Presuppositionalists in particular are eager to affirm such a view. Observe:
God controls whatsoever comes to pass. (Cornelius Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 160)
God’s thoughts make the world what it is and determine what happens – which is why all facts are revelatory of God… (Greg Bahnsen, Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 243)
God controls all events and outcomes (even those that come about by human choice and activity) and is far more capable and powerful than modern machines. (Van Til's Apologetic, p. 489n.43)
So how does the Christian square events and outcomes which are not good in nature, with the view that the Christian god, which is supposed to be “all-good” and only “all-good,” is in control of everything? Bahnsen’s own proposal, that his god has “a morally sufficient reason for the evil which exists,” does not reconcile the matter. On the contrary, all it accomplishes is portraying the Christian god on cozy terms with evil. So the problem persists.

Predictably, Dan writes:
The Atheist are [is] in a real quandary when he tries to argue for the problem of evil, he has to first make a moral judgment that is objectively correct. Objective moral judgments can only be grounded in the transcendent God of Christianity.
Several points here:

First, Dan misses the internal nature of the critique launched by the problem of evil. The problem of evil points to a state of affairs which is inconsistent with what the Christian worldview would have us believe. Christianity affirms both horns of the conflict, namely that an all-good, omnipotent and omniscient creator created the entire universe and all its contents, even “control[ing] whatsoever comes to pass” within it, and that evil exists in the world. The conflict is thus confined within the Christian worldview.

Contrary to what presuppositionalists typically say, the conflict to which the problem of evil draws our attention is not the non-believer’s (alleged) failure to ground moral judgment without reference to the Christian god. On the contrary, since both sides of this conflict are affirmed by Christianity, so the problem obtains regardless of what the non-believer can or cannot do.

This conflict not only destroys the Christian worldview from within, it also has profoundly damning implications for the moral character of those who actively seek to defend it, especially in a manner like Greg Bahnsen. By definition and by virtue of its nature, an all-good being would not willfully use evil to achieve its ends: its all-good nature would preclude any willingness complicit with evil. Consequently, a being which does make use of evil to achieve its ends cannot rightly be called “all-good.” But this is what Christianity essentially teaches in this respect: that its god is all-good, but also that its creation contains evil, and the “all-good” god is ultimately responsible for the evil. The task of the apologist is to reconcile these teachings without contradiction. But the contradiction cannot be reconciled without compromising either side of the conflict, even if the believer wants to say that his god has a “morally sufficient reason” for the evil it uses to accomplish its ends. Indeed, the very notion of a “morally sufficient reason” to allow or make use of evil is a contradiction in terms: that which is morally sufficient abstains absolutely from evil. Is there such a reason as a “morally sufficient reason” to commit murder? Is there such a thing as a “morally sufficient reason” to rape children? Is there such a thing as a “morally sufficient reason” to burglarize a house? Is there such a thing as a “morally sufficient reason” to evade relevant facts in one’s reasoning? These are questions for the Christian who affirms the notion of a “morally sufficient reason” for allowing or committing evil to consider.

Second, Dan incorrectly assumes (most likely because he wants it to be the case) that “objective moral judgments can only be grounded in the transcendent God of Christianity.” He does not establish this claim; no apologist really does. Apologists love to repeat this kind of claim, but it is typically accepted by believers on faith: they want it to be true, and on the basis of this desire, they affirm it as if it were true. A dead give-away here is the use of the concept ‘objective’ in qualifying “moral judgments,” a concept that is anathema to the Christian worldview (see here).

We’ve already seen that the Christian worldview is opposed to moral judgment as such. Actions which are chosen by a volitional agent are always subject to moral evaluation. But Christians have imperatively insisted that no one has the right to judge their god’s chosen actions. Even this insistence, however, is at odds with what Christians like Greg Bahnsen urge us to swallow: they tell us that their god and all its actions are good, which is a moral evaluation. And yet we’ve been denied the right to make any moral evaluations. In fact, we’re told that we have no basis to make moral evaluations to begin with.

Now the apologist speaks of “objective moral judgments.” But does he understand what objectivity is? His claim that “objective moral judgments can only be grounded in the transcendent God of Christianity.” In other words, in the apologist’s view, objective moral judgments are not grounded in reason. The presuppositionalist literature in fact confirms this analysis. Bahnsen explains the presuppositionalist understanding of objectivity as follows:
For Van Til, objectivity in the Christian worldview is not a matter of having no presuppositions (and letting a pretended neutral reason find the pretended external truth, which is actually organized by the subjective mind of man), but a matter of having the right presuppositions – that is, having the divine point of view gained through revelation. (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 286)
So clearly, for the presuppositionalist, reason has nothing to do with objectivity. If it did, why wouldn’t Bahnsen make mention of this when he gives the Christian “understanding” of objectivity?

Moreover, the presuppositionalist conception of objectivity does not rule out the view that wishing makes it so. On the basis of the Christian worldview, wishing does make it so, especially if the wisher is the Christian god (see here). Think of it: a conception of objectivity which allows wishing to make it so!

This is how the Christian worldview divorces “objectivity” from reason: by underwriting its conception of objectivity with the primacy of consciousness, and doing away with reason in epistemology. It manifests itself by accepting an enormous sum of mystical premises as “truth” which are said to be “divinely revealed” and are consulted as the ultimate guide to understanding the world. It should be obvious that one can easily claim to “know” anything by an appeal to “revelation,” especially when it comes to “knowledge” of “the supernatural” and “duties” which men are supposed to adopt and follow. So the appeal to divine revelation offers absolutely zero safeguards for ensuring genuine objectivity in one’s identifications and conclusions.

Of course, apologist Dan does not anticipate this objection, for not only does he take it for granted that reason has nothing to do with moral judgment (he voices no concern over the absence of reason's mention in the presuppositionalist script), he expects his claim that moral judgments need the Christian god in order to be objective, to be accepted on faith (i.e., on the wish that it be true), essentially on his own say so. He gives no argument, so he does not even present this claim as a conclusion to prior reasoning. It’s a stipulation, not a conclusion, not a discovery one makes by applying reason to the world.

But perhaps I’m hasty in assuming that Dan means the same thing as Van Til does with the word “objective.” In that case, what could he possibly mean by “objective”? He uses this term as if its meaning were self-apparent. But going by what I understand by the concept ‘objective’, his claim that objective moral judgments need to be grounded in the Christian god is clearly false. This is because objectivity is essentially the methodical application of the primacy of existence to knowledge, while Christianity is fundamentally opposed to the primacy of existence (see here). Consequently, the apologist is using a concept (the concept ‘objectivity’) while ignoring its genetic roots (the primacy of existence) by underwriting it with a worldview which explicitly denies its roots (i.e., Christianity). In other words, we have here an instance of the fallacy of the stolen concept.

Dan writes:
The Atheist cannot logically generate the problem of evil.
What Dan means here is that, by virtue of his atheism, an atheist has no rational basis for moral concepts (like ‘good’ and ‘evil’) that is consistent with his non-belief in the Christian god. Of course this overlooks the internal nature of the problem of evil. As I pointed out above, the problem of evil is a problem within Christianity regardless of what any particular atheist can or cannot do.

Additionally, notice that Dan nowhere establishes this claim by means of proof. He simply asserts it, apparently expecting everyone to accept it on faith. After all, that’s how he accepted it. Accepting a claim on faith essentially means supposing it is true because you want it to be true. Dan wants this claim to be true, so he pretends that it is true. In this very sense, faith is a pretense.

Dan write:
Its not a problem for the believer
What Dan is really saying (without the courage to come out and say it plainly), is that the believer doesn’t have a problem with evil. He’s already conceded that, according to Christianity, his god has a cozy relationship with evil since it uses evil to achieve its purposes. Dan does not explain how this can be morally good, and apparently doesn’t see any need to. Indeed, he doesn’t see any need to explain this because he ultimately doesn’t care.

Like any believer, Dan’s concern is to be an obedient worshiper who disallows himself the freedom to judge his god as anything other than a “good” god. But by doing so, he destroys the meaning of the very concept ‘good’. Since his god is on friendly terms with evil, it is a god which deliberately chooses not to take an uncompromising stance against evil. So just by worshiping such a god and calling it “good,” the believer concedes by his own actions that he has no problem with evil. Just as the god he worships, the believer is ultimately indifferent to evil, because he’s ultimately indifferent to values, and this is because he is ultimately indifferent to life on earth. So logically, while the believer has no problem with evil, he has an insurmountable problem with good.

What should be noted here, however, is that even the believer himself is not consistent with the logical implications of his worldview’s stated position on its god and evil in the world. On the contrary, the believer routinely acts as if his own values were important. In other words, his own actions defy the moral ambivalence inherent in his theism.

Dan writes:
but it is, ironically, the problem for the unbeliever.
Not the Christian problem of evil. The atheist does not posit an “all-good,” “all-knowing” and “all-powerful” god which uses evil to achieve its own ends. That’s the problem of evil. This is a problem for the Christian worldview. As we have seen, the Christian’s “solution” to this is essentially to wipe out all rational meaning from the concept ‘good’ in order to justify his belief in a god which deliberately uses evil to achieve its ends. Notice that even when Dan repeats Bahnsen’s claim that the Christian god “has a morally sufficient reason” for evil, he does not (just as Bahnsen did not) identify what this supposedly “morally sufficient reason” might be. This only indicates that the apologist is not looking for a way to resolve the logical conflict highlighted by the problem of evil, but rather to prop up a psychological means of rationalizing belief in such a thing. He’s essentially trying to have his cake, and eat it, too. Most non-Christians should see right through this farcical distortion of morality.

Dan writes:
The Atheist need to make good on the statement that its evil first.
Again Dan ignores the internal nature of the problem of evil. It is Christianity which affirms the existence of evil in the world, regardless of what specifically the atheist’s worldview might happen to teach. Presuppositionalists guarantee us that they will continue in their failure to address the problem of evil so long as they ignore the internal nature of its critique of Christianity.

But presuppositionalists do have an incentive to ignore the internal nature of the problem of evil, namely the fact that it cannot be defeated. Christianity says that the world was created by an all-good, all-knowing, all-controlling and omnipotent god, and it also says that evil exists in the world. As an example of evil in the world, Dan himself cited the torture of children (he quoted Dostoyevsky’s Brothers Karamazov at length to give an example of this). If one accepts the premise that an all-knowing, all-controlling and omnipotent god created the world, he cannot logically escape the implication that any evil that exists in the world is ultimately there because that god put it there. Essentially, the apologist needs to explain how evil finds its source in something that is supposedly “all-good.” Bahnsen fails at this task. So does apologist Dan.

by Dawson Bethrick

Thursday, August 13, 2009

RazorsKiss on the Christian God as the Basis of Knowledge - Part 1: Overview of RK's Epistemology

Recently there was a debate between presuppositional apologist “RazorsKiss” and non-Christian Mitch LeBlanc on the topic “Is the Triune God of the Scriptures the Basis for Knowledge?” A transcript of the debate is available here.

Mitch LeBlanc himself brought his debate with RazorsKiss to my attention, and he and I have carried on a lengthy discussion of the debate, particularly RazorsKiss’ statements, via electronic correspondence.

While I do not know what RazorsKiss’ real name is, I do know that he is part of the team over at the Choosing Hats blog. Choosing Hats, as some of you may recall, is the home of Chris Bolt, with whom I have on several occasions, with limited success, attempted to have a dialogue (see for instance here and here). RazorsKiss also has his own blog, and has posted a transcript of his debate with LeBlanc here. This version of the transcript also includes a question and answer section following the debate, which is interesting to read.

Interestingly, on RazorsKiss’ own blog, there is a list of links to non-Christian internet sites, including my blog. The section including these links is labeled with a “content warning,” which advises readers to “read at your own risk.” I’m not sure whether to be amused or flattered, but I admit I’m a bit of both.


RazorsKiss’ Opening Concerns

Presumably because RazorsKiss (“RK” hereafter) is a Christian and believes that the Christian god has something to do with the foundations of knowledge, he chose to defend the affirmative position in response to the question on the floor, “Is the Triune God of the Scriptures the Basis for Knowledge?” Mitch LeBlanc took up the negative.

In reviewing RK’s opening statement, I was reminded of Greg Bahnsen’s opening statement in his celebrated debate with Gordon Stein, in that, like Bahnsen, RK seems to present no argument at all for his position. Rather, like Bahnsen, RK prefers simply to repeat what his position affirms without providing any rationale for supposing any of it is true. In this way RK presents in his opening statement little more than a lengthy description of what his position advocates, with no case defending the claim that what he describes is true.

RK divides his opening statement into four subtitled sections:
1) Introduction
2) Epistemology
3) Proper Epistemology
4) The Impossibility of the Contrary
In the beginning of his opening statement, RK expresses concerns about issues which do not seem at all germane to a defense of an intellectual position, such as his compulsion as a Christian to be humble, to avoid pride and to resist looking down on others, accusations of arrogance from others, etc. In the same breath, he expresses an attitude which is hard to distinguish from “I’m right and everyone else is wrong” when he states:

if I am correct, there is a fundamental problem with the way the entire world thinks about the basis for their own knowledge… I claim to have a basis for my knowledge which is utterly higher, and transcendentally greater than I, or any other human being can ever hope to be.

So RK’s expectations to be accused of arrogance are understandable.

RK also announces that, on his view, everyone is “owned” by his god. Note how RK segues into this from his expressed worries about being charged with arrogance:

It is conceivable I suppose, to call a perfect Being arrogant for claiming to be your Creator; to own you and the dust of the earth man was formed from It is another thing to assert that His claim to ownership is unwarranted. If what I say is true - God owns you. He owns me. He owns every particle of matter, every joule of energy; established every law we think in accordance with, and ordained every law which governs the world we exist in, at His good pleasure.

So not only is every human being a piece of property belonging to RK’s invisible magic being, everything else is too, and whatever happens in the world originates from its “good pleasure.” Apparently RK’s god finds “good pleasure” in destructive earthquakes, tsunamis which level entire cities, babies being miscarried or aborted, the rise of dictators and the path of blood they carve into human communities, cancer, traffic accidents, etc. Since it owns all of us, RK’s god can do whatever it wants with us. And since it couldn’t possibly need us, it finds “good pleasure” in sending threats against our values.

RK has elected to defend the view that human knowledge finds its proper basis in such a being.


What RazorsKiss Hoped to Accomplish

In his opening statement, RK emphasizes the exclusivity of Christianity. For instance, he claims that

every possible foundation for every way of thinking not in accordance with [the Christian god’s] perfect ordinance is utter, absolute folly

It is easy to make such assertions. As they say, “talk is cheap.” But fortunately RK gives us an indication of what he hopes to accomplish in his debate with LeBlanc:

My intent Is to demonstrate that there is no other epistemological basis that can possibly compare to that possessed by a Christian holding the self-revelation of the Triune God. My goal is to show that my that any worldview attempting to argue from other than the Christian foundation is, in fact, borrowing from that foundation to do so. That any worldview asserting some sort of “objective” basis for the laws of logic specifically, but for nature and morality as well – is pure subjectivism wrapped up in an objective shell consisting of concepts stolen from their Creator.

By “concepts stolen from their Creator,” RK indicates what he means:

Concepts like universals. Universals which are abstract, binding, have inherent meaning, and apply to every person – whether they like them to, or WANT them to or not. They apply nonetheless.

Note here that RazorsKiss is not only drawing attention to the topic of concepts – in which case I would expect to find in his defense of the claim that the Christian god is the proper basis of knowledge, some indication of what his theory of concepts may be – but also what is clearly an expression of the primacy of existence – that something is the case independent of what anyone likes or wants. All of this is most interesting to me, especially coming from a Christian, since Christianity has no theory of concepts (see here), and its metaphysical foundations are entirely incompatible with the primacy of existence (see here). If anyone were to dispute this last point, let us ask: Would RK affirm that universals apply to a person if his god did not want them to? I very much doubt it.


Telltale Statements

A number of statements which RK makes throughout the course of his opening statement can be classed into three distinct categories. For instance, RK makes several universally negative statements about non-Christians without any argumentative back-up to support them, such as:

- “[non-Christians] do not have a justification for their beliefs”

- “An unbelieving man has no justification for his predication.”

- “He has no basis for his use of logical laws.”

- “There is no area in which [a non-Christian’s] thoughts, ideas or concepts can be said to be properly grounded.”

RK clearly has a low opinion of non-Christians, especially in regard to their understanding of things pertaining to knowledge. Again, RK takes the attitude that he is right and everyone else is wrong. If RK could support this position by validating the kinds of claims he makes in a credible manner, this might be forgivable. Unfortunately, what we find is that these statements are affirmed as if by fiat, in the manner of someone who expects reality to conform to his pronouncements.

Next, RK makes several autobiographical statements which tellingly expose his own ignorance on certain key matters. For instance:

- “I have yet to see an epistemological basis which accounts for universals in any
satisfying manner.”

- “The fundamental disconnect I see in secular epistemology (and Christians who use that same epistemology) is the universal lack of a solution from unbelieving philosophy for problems like that of induction, the one and the many, whether the will is free, and the like.”

- “If the unbeliever thinks he is the ultimate, not simply the immediate basis for epistemology - I see no possible way for that assertion to be justified.”

Statements like these tell us what RK does not know, and/or where he’s not been looking. Specifically, they indicate a lack of familiarity with his subject matter, which includes the content of non-Christian teachings on epistemology. Is RK suggesting that, since he has “yet to see an epistemological basis which accounts for universals in any satisfying manner,” that there isn’t one? Of course, this does not follow. What does he mean by “satisfying manner”? He does not explain this. But what he does imply by such statements is that Christianity does provide “an epistemological basis which accounts for universals in [a] satisfying manner.” Again, this tells us about RK, not about the quality of such “accounts.” For all we know, "satisfying manner" for RK may be any treatment on the issue in question which plays to his confessional investment in the Christian god-belief program. Thus any treatment which does not do this would automatically be dismissed as "unsatisfying." So long as the "account" ultimately says "God did it," it has a chance of meeting the grade. Without this, it dies on the vine.

As for the claim that there exists in secular epistemology a “universal lack of a solution from unbelieving [i.e., non-Christian] philosophy for problems like that of induction, the one and the many, whether the will is free, and the like,” again RK simply announces his own ignorance. Where is RK’s refutation of David Kelley’s solution to the problem of induction, or Ayn Rand’s theories of concepts and volition? Indeed, I have seen no evidence that he has any familiarity with these to begin with, let alone that he may be prepared to enumerate their presupposed deficiencies.

As for the final statement about the “unbeliever” thinking himself as “the ultimate…. basis for epistemology,” it’s not even clear what this is supposed to mean (similar statements in the presuppositionalist literature tend to be just as vague), or what exactly RK thinks is wrong with such suppositions (unless it’s just that he “see[s] no possible way for that assertion to be justified,” which again only tells us about RK). Presumably RK would say that his god is justified in thinking itself as "the ultimate... basis for epistemology," though this strikes me as utterly incoherent since said god is supposed to be omniscient and infallible, thus having no need for epistemology in the first place. (I'll develop on this point further below.) This would mean that, in principle, RK could have no beef with a person supposing itself as the "ultimate... basis for epistemology," he just wants to be able to say which persons are justified in this, and which persons are not. Of course, there is nothing to stop someone from imagining a god and claiming that it is "the ultimate... basis for epistemology" (however this is taken to mean) and consequently denying this role to any human being.

Lastly, RK makes a series of worldview claims which his readers are apparently expected to accept as truth on his say so (since they are presented without any support whatsoever):

- ”God owns you. He owns me. He owns every particle of matter, every joule of energy; established every law we think in accordance with, and ordained every law which governs the world we exist in, at His good pleasure.”

- “I have a Guarantor which is self-existent, self-sufficient, able to communicate, omnipotent, omniscient, immutable, and sovereign.”

- “I can say, with perfect certainty, that the Triune God of Scripture is not only the proper grounds for all knowledge – but the only possible grounds for all knowledge!”

- “there are no brute facts. Facts are not neutral entities, and they cannot be interpreted in a neutral fashion. This is because facts can only exist in relation to other facts;”

- “There is self-existence, which then guarantees all contingent existence.”

- “ There is omnipotence, which can guarantee the absolute authority of God over all His creation, including willing and thinking creatures.”

- “ There is the omniscience and self-knowledge of God, which guarantees that what His creatures can know is intelligible - that creatures can, in fact, derivatively know the facts about His creation, and those facts that He reveals about Himself.”

- “ There is the internal ‘sense’, that Calvin calls the ‘sensus divinitatus’, which all men possess, as image-bearers of their Creator - and which allow them to recognize the God that they even sometimes deny.”

- “Can someone without the axioms that Christians hold ‘know’ anything? As defined, no. They can’t.”

- “What the Christian position alone can guarantee is any contribution to knowledge whatsoever.”

- “What my claim really entails is that an unbeliever, trying to start from a position of epistemic autonomy, is like a child who sits on his father’s lap - and uses that position for the purpose of slapping his father in the face.”

- “Christianity has an answer for [the problems of induction, universals, free will, etc.] - provided the Christian answers them from Scriptural revelation, and does not adopt the same principles that unbelieving philosophy does.”

- “Since it is impossible to have knowledge on any other basis, save that of God’s intrinsic nature and self-communication of the properties of that nature - it is impossible for any human system of reasoning to have justification at all.”

- “Christianity’s epistemology is the only epistemology possible - because it’s impossible to have any other coherent, true, and justified basis for thought, perception, knowledge, or understanding of ourselves, or the creation in which we dwell.”

I read all of RK’s statement several times and pored over it looking specifically for how he might support any of these claims, but I found nothing which does support them. Of course, in regard to this last batch of statements, RK does make an effort in his opening statement to preempt the assessment that we are expected to accept these claims on his own say so. Specifically, in his Introduction RK states:

I have heard the claim to “arrogance” before. If I ever state something on my own behalf, I will grant that such an accusation is justified. Should I comport myself rudely, as if I am superior, or as if I think myself to be who I am because I am somehow higher - I request that you point this out. However, as a creature - I claim to have a basis for my knowledge which is utterly higher, and transcendently greater than I, or any other human being can ever hope to be… Since my claim is not based on myself, but upon a self-revelation from the Triune God described in Scripture - the claim in this case is on the behalf of another.

But given his worldview’s appeal to an invisible magic being which is accessible to the human mind exclusively by means of imagination, RK is on safe ground here. For he will always be able to say that whatever he affirms is not on his own behalf, but on behalf of an invisible magic being which is evidently unable to appear before all who are present and speak on its own behalf. If ever there were a formula for evading responsibility for the things one says, RK has cornered the market. In the question and answer section following his debate with LeBlanc, RK states, “God is who works in me, and through me.” Of course, anyone imagining that an invisible magic being operates behind the scenes of the things we perceive in reality, would be able to make claims such as this. RK gives us no reason to suppose that what he is talking about when he points to his god is anything other than imaginary.


What RK Does Not Address

Since RK seeks to defend the claim that the Christian god is the proper basis for knowledge, I was hoping to find some discussion in his defense of this thesis regarding the means by which knowledge is acquired and validated, that is, the how of epistemology. Since presuppositionalists in general make it no secret that they think their god is the source of all knowledge, that the content of “revelation” is the what of epistemology, what they should focus their attention is on how man acquires knowledge, and how their proposed method of acquiring knowledge (if there is one) coheres with their god-belief claims. Unfortunately, I found that RK’s discussion of epistemology was limited to his concern for what he considers the proper basis of knowledge as well as the exclusivity of Christianity’s approach to knowledge, with no mention of anything substantive in regard to the means or method by which one acquires knowledge. So far as epistemology is concerned, this is a glaring oversight. He does speak of “justification” of knowledge, but even here he does not outline any process by which his epistemology recommends that we go about justifying what we believe to be knowledge, so he provides nothing to be evaluated on this matter as well. Besides, one cannot undertake the task of justifying knowledge without understanding how that knowledge is acquired in the first place. The how of epistemology seems not to concern RK at all.

Then again, presuppositional apologist John Frame makes a most telling admission on this very point when he writes:

How is it that people come to believe a Word from God which contradicts all their other normal means of knowledge? How did Abraham come to know that the voice calling him to sacrifice his son (Gen. 22:1-18; cf. Heb. 11:17-19; James 2:21-24) was the voice of God? What the voice told him to do was contrary to fatherly instincts, normal ethical considerations, and even, apparently, contrary to other Words of God (Gen. 9:6). But he obeyed the voice and was blessed. Closer to our own experience: how is it that people come to believe in Jesus even though they have not, like Thomas, seen Jesus’ signs and wonders (John 20:29)? …I cannot explain the psychology here to the satisfaction of very many. In this case as in others (for we walk by faith, not by sight!) we may have to accept the fact even without an explanation of the fact. Somehow, God manages to get his Word across to us, despite the logical and psychological barriers. Without explaining how it works, Scripture describes in various ways a “supernatural factor” in divine-human communication. (a) It speaks of the power of the Word. The Word created all things (Gen. 1:3, etc.; Ps. 33:3-6; John 1:3) and directs the course of nature and history (Pss. 46:6; 148:5-8). What God says will surely come to pass (Isa. 55:11; Gen. 18:149; Deut. 18:21ff.). The gospel is “the power of God unto salvation” (Rom. 1:16; cf. Isa. 6:9-10; Luke 7:7ff.; Heb. 4:12). (b) Scripture also speaks of the personal power of the Holy Spirit operating with the Word (John 3:5; 1 Cor. 2:4,12ff.; 2 Cor. 3:15-18; 1 Thess. 1:5). Mysterious though the process may be, somehow God illumines the human mind to discern the divine source of the Word. We know without knowing how we know. (Presuppositional Apologetics: An Introduction, Part 1)

So for Frame, the process of epistemology (at least so far as it concerns the believer’s “knowledge” of the divine) is “mysterious.” I’m not sure how well this bodes well with RK, who in his opening statement specifically expressed disagreement with the “tendency to make [things like epistemology] mysterious – to make it something only the initiated can truly understand.” Why, then, does Frame, when addressing the question of how one has knowledge of a supernatural being which Christians call “God,” throws his hands up and confesses, “We know without knowing how we know”? While it is hard to square RK’s concern to keep epistemological matters comprehensible, that he may privately agree with Frame’s position on this matter would explain why the how of epistemology garners no mention from him in his defense of the view that the Christian god is the proper basis of knowledge.


A Fundamental Disconnect

In the second section of his opening statement, subtitled “Epistemology,” RK acknowledges that epistemology is the branch of philosophy which addresses questions such as

Why do we know what we know? How do we know? How is this knowledge acquired? What is this knowledge? On what basis do we know it? By what standard? On what (or whose) authority? Those questions are the realm of our discussion.

And RK is correct: it is these kinds of questions which epistemology is supposed to address, specifically what knowledge is, and how is it acquired and validated. Unfortunately, as mentioned above, when RK gets to a point where he starts talking about his theistic epistemology, he seems preoccupied with aligning knowledge as such with his god-belief as its proper ground and authoritative basis, and says essentially nothing about the method by which knowledge is acquired and validated. Since he acknowledges that “those questions are the realm of our discussion,” I found this oversight rather disappointing. If the Christian god is considered to be the proper ground and standard of knowledge, by what means does one acquire and validate knowledge? Since, as we will see, RK claims that knowledge is based specifically on axioms which clearly assume the existence of the Christian god, his knowledge of his god must somehow be immediate, such as when the rest of us (in the real world) see a tree or speeding car. But how? That’s what I want to know.

This question has vital importance, for just in considering it we should be aware of a fundamental disconnect on the part of the Christian position which RK seeks to defend. Claiming that the Christian god is the ground and standard of knowledge suggests that the Christian god’s own cognition in one way or another serves as the model for human cognition, that there is an analogous relationship between man’s knowledge and the knowledge allegedly possessed by the Christian god. As Bahnsen puts it,

man’s thinking must follow after or replicate God’s thinking on the level of a creature, thus being ‘analogical’ and recognizing two levels of knowing (original and derivative, absolute and subordinate). (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 100n.31)

Elsewhere Bahnsen states that

man knows anything he knows (whether the world or God Himself) by thinking ‘analogously’ to God’s thinking” (Ibid., p. 169n.40).

These and similar assumptions are the basis behind Van Til’s infamous dictum that “man thinks God’s thoughts after him” (Van Til, “Nature and Scripture,” p. 278; quoted in Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 225). As Van Til explains:

Since the human mind is created by God and is therefore in itself naturally revelational of God, the mind may be sure that its system is true and corresponds on a finite scale to the system of God. That is what we mean by saying that it is analogical to God’s system. (Introduction to Systematic Theology, p. 181)

Given the fundamental disparity between the nature of man’s mind and that attributed to the Christian god by the Christian worldview, I find this thesis utterly incredible. Man is neither omniscient nor infallible, and must develop his knowledge of reality through his own fallible efforts by applying a method to the data he gathers through his senses (i.e., an operation of his sense organs, which is a biological activity). It is through his senses that man has awareness of objects distinct from himself, and it is of these objects that he seeks to develop his knowledge. His knowledge is thus not automatic, nor is there any guarantee that he will discover any particular fact. On the other hand, however, the Christian god is said to be both omniscient and infallible, possessing all knowledge for all eternity, without error, gap or need of correction, as an inherent part of its alleged existence, not as a product of some procedure it elects to undertake. Its knowledge is not the result of a methodological process which it performs on data it discovers independent of itself through a biological process. Contrary to man’s knowledge, the Christian god’s knowledge would be automatic. It “just knows.” Naturally, anyone could imagine a being which “just knows” everything, and it is no secret that this is what Christians are doing when they claim that their epistemology has such a standard. But in so doing they ignore crucial distinctions which have direct bearing on the nature, method and basis of man’s knowledge. The Christian god’s “knowledge” would be automatic, inalterable and infallible, while man’s knowledge is procedural, developing and open to correction. Given these facts, how can the former at all serve as any kind of standard for the latter? What possible relevance could it have, since regardless of what some invisible magic being may know, man still needs to go through the motions he needs to go through in order to acquire and validate his knowledge? RK certainly does not anticipate this question, even though it is wholly relevant to the position he advocates.

But the fundamental distinctions do not stop there. There is also the issue of the orientation between the respective subjects of knowledge and the objects of knowledge which needs to be taken into account. In the case of man, the orientation between subject and object is known as the objective orientation. This means that the objects of man’s consciousness exist and are what they are independent of his conscious activity. For instance, the flower that a man sees is the kind of flower it is, has the number of petals it has, and is located where it is, regardless of whether he perceives it, identifies it as a flower or as a motor vehicle, likes it, wishes it were someplace else, etc. His conscious activity has no causal bearing on the flower’s identity qua flower. This is the primacy of existence principle, the very basis of the concept of objectivity. It is on the basis of this principle that we can affirm such truths as wishing doesn’t make it so and believing a claim will not make it true.

But this is not the orientation between subject and object which the Christian god, as described by the Christian worldview, is thought to have with respect to the objects of its alleged knowledge. The orientation between subject and object which the Christian god is supposed to enjoy is the subjective orientation. Unlike the relationship between man’s consciousness and its objects, the relationship between the Christian god’s consciousness and its objects is characterized by the primacy of consciousness. In this case, the subject holds metaphysical primacy over its objects. That is, the objects of the Christian god’s consciousness are what the Christian god chooses them to be. Their existence, nature and capacity for action are dependent on the Christian god’s conscious activity. Christian apologist Mike Warren made this crystal clear when he wrote the following:

In knowing a flower, for example, God knows everything about the flower. Humans can have that flower as an object of their knowledge as well, so there is a similarity in the knowledge; but a difference is that humans cannot know the flower exhaustively. Not only is there a quantitative difference between divine and human knowledge of the flower, but there are qualitative differences. God knows the flower originally. Everything about the flower originates from His own consciousness. Indeed, God's thinking about the flower makes it so. In contrast, humans know the flower as something originating external to them. Their thinking about the flower does not make it so. Human knowledge claims about the flower can be incorrect, unlike God's perfect knowledge. (Post to the Van Til List dated February 26, 2004, quoted in Confessions of a Vantillian Subjectivist; italics added)

The orientation assumed here between subject and object in the case of the Christian god’s consciousness is precisely the opposite of that belonging to man. While the objective orientation identifies the proper relationship between the subject of man’s consciousness and any object of his awareness, theism is inherently characterized by a fundamental subjectivism. The influence of theism’s inherent subjectivism has a direct bearing on epistemology, as Bahnsen unwittingly acknowledges:

In God’s thinking, there are no facts that are newly discovered or contingent (or, as Van Til sometimes put it earlier in his career, God’s knowledge is exclusively analytical, not synthetical). This is because God is the Creator of all facts, and the facts are what they are in terms of God’s sovereign plan; thus, to know anything “outside” Himself, God need only “analyze” or consult his own mind. (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 165n.33)

For the Christian god, wishing does make it so. And unlike man, who must discover facts which exist independent of his conscious activity and conform his knowledge of them to their nature by applying an objective method, the Christian god creates facts out of the exercise of its own will. To put it succinctly, for man (i.e., in reality) facts are objective (since they are what they are independent of man’s conscious activity), but for the Christian god (i.e., in the believer’s imagination) facts are subjective, (since they are what the Christian god wants them to be). Consequently, to claim that man’s knowledge finds its basis in the Christian god is to affirm that objectivity is grounded in subjectivism. But this is absurd.

So to go back to Van Til’s claim above, let us ask:

What “correspondence” could a mind geared with the objective orientation between itself as a subject and any objects it perceives or considers, have to a mind which enjoys precisely the opposite orientation between itself and anything distinct from it?

Of course, Van Til does not consider the issue from the perspective of the proper orientation between a subject and its objects, and from what I have seen, neither do any of his followers. Thus, given the implications which I have brought out here, it is not surprising that RK considers none of these distinctions in his comments about epistemology, even though it is undeniable that such distinctions would bear on those questions which he himself has raised.


The "Sensus Divinitatus"

Unfortunately for RK, however, since his worldview affirms a subjective basis for all knowledge (both in the case of his god’s knowledge as well as man’s), he cuts off from himself any objective means by which he can reliably distinguish between what is real and what he may merely be imagining. This failure to make such a critical distinction in human cognition, a distinction which is wholly germane to the matter at hand, brings into question all of RK’s god-belief claims. This includes RK's appeal to the so-called “sensus divinitatus,” to which he refers as an “internal ‘sense’” through which his god presumably guides and communicates to him. The "sensus divinitatus" is associated in Christianity with "the indwelling of the Holy Spirit," and appeals to the "sensus divinitatus" tend to call to mind the notion of "the Force" in the Star Wars epic. It is an imperceptible phenomenon possessing great power with which the believer considers himself positively aligned and which, he claims, guides his thinking, choices and actions. In the post-debate question and answer session, RK describes the workings of this alleged faculty in the following manner:

it’s the equivalent of having the author of the book standing over your shoulder, and correcting your faulty understandings, and continually adjusting your noetic “issues” as He also works to sanctify you in obedience to that revealed Word… It’s not me, it’s God in me… God is who works in me, and through me.

Since RK offers no argument to support his claim that he (and everybody else!) possesses such a faculty, we are presumably supposed to accept his claim that he benefits from such privy guidance courtesy of the supernatural on his say so. But his claim that every human being possesses this “internal ‘sense’” indicates that, if each of us turns the focus of our attention inwards, into the internal workings of our psyche, we should find evidence of the faculty he’s talking about. Curiously, however, if I introspect when reading a book and suppose that its author is standing over my shoulder and guiding my understanding of what I’m reading, I am certainly honest enough to acknowledge that all I am really doing is imagining at this point. If the “sensus divinitatus” has the same look and feel of imagination, RK’s Christianity is in big trouble.

But I expect that Christians like RK would resist this identification. In so doing, of course, they would be implying that they have better knowledge of what’s going on in my psyche than I do (and yet RK wants us to warn him when he’s verging on arrogance). So I have some questions for RK.

Suppose RK thinks he has received input from his god through this faculty he calls “sensus divinitatus.” How does he know it’s not his imagination? What distinguishes the input coming to him through the “sensus divinitatus” from the products of his own imagination? Both are “internal,” and if the “sensus divinitatus” can be referred to as an “internal ‘sense’,” I don’t know why the imagination cannot also. What about deceiving spirits, such as those dispatched by the Christian devil? How would RK distinguish communications he claims to have received from his god through the “sensus divinitatus” from those originating from this nefarious personality? Here’s another question: What kind of content is communicated to the believer by the “sensus divinitatus”? Its source is said to be omniscient, infallible and omnipotent. RK claims "It's not me, it's God in me." Thus he claims that he acquires his knowledge from an omniscient and infallible mind "who works in me, and through me." So presumably it could tell RK what I had for breakfast this morning, or who my boss was in June 1995. Surely his god knows these things. Why would it withhold this information from believers? Wouldn’t the display of such knowledge be an impressive witnessing tool? Or is there some reason why the believer will never have access to this kind of information in spite of having direct lines to an omniscient mind?

We should also ask if the “sensus divinitatus” redundant in any way. Does it only provide knowledge to the believer which he can acquire through other means, such as by reading what Jesus said in Matthew chapter 5, or consulting an Almanac to learn how many people live in Tokyo? Does the “sensus divinitatus” deliver knowledge which could not possibly be accounted for in some other way, whether by imagination, consulting public records, using one’s sense organs, or simply inferring conclusions from data gathered in a mundane manner?

Or does RK expect us just to accept his claim that he and everyone else possesses such a faculty on his own say so and forego such inquiries such that we never learn about how it functions and what is capacities are? RK does understand how it works, does he not? If so, he should be able to explain it. If not, then how can he claim that what he “knows” as a deliverance through such a faculty is at all reliable and sourced in the divine? Unless he can explain how one can reliably distinguish between what he calls the “sensus divinitatus” and what he may merely be imagining, why should we believe it’s the former and not the latter? RK does acknowledge that he has the ability to imagine, does he not?

If I cannot distinguish the “sensus divinitatus” which RK says I have within me, from my own imagination, how does RK distinguish it from his own imagination? Of course it would do him no good to appeal to the “sensus divinitatus” itself to address this question, since if “sensus divinitatus” is in fact his own imagination, he would be appealing to his imagination instead of to a divinely inspired portal of communication from the supernatural. So this would get him nowhere. Besides, it would only perpetuate the mysteriousness of RK’s epistemology insofar as its recommended method of acquiring and validating knowledge is concerned (which is of central importance to epistemology). So again, since RK is capable of imagining things, and people are generally capable of confusing what they imagine with reality, RK needs to address this matter, and he needs to address it seriously, with a detailed explanation of just how one (anyone, since he claims we all possess this elusive faculty) can reliably distinguish it from what may really only be one’s own imagination. Failing this, his case for knowledge finding its basis in the Christian god, since it makes appeal to the "sensus divinitatus," will never get off the ground.

by Dawson Bethrick

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Does Logic Presuppose the Christian God? Part II: Reasons Why Logic Cannot Presuppose the Christian God, #4: The Trinity

Christianity holds that “God exists as a tri-personality” (Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 12). This is known as the doctrine of the Trinity. Consequently, when presuppositionalists claim that logic presupposes the Christian god, they are claiming that logic presupposes this thing which they call “Trinity.” The presuppositionalist claim that logic could not exist without the Christian god, is logically equivalent to the claim that logic could not exist without the Trinity.

Now, the notion of the Trinity is perplexing enough by itself. Christian theologians throughout the centuries have tried their best to make sense of the doctrine of the Trinity, but at the end of the day they all seem to finish by throwing up their hands in resignation, only to announce that it's a big “mystery.”

To then turn around and claim on top of this that there could be no logic without the existence of the Trinity, stretches credibility to new heights of absurdity.

The question I’ve always had for the doctrine of the Trinity, and one which I’ve not seen the literature address explicitly, is: how many consciousnesses are we talking about? Is the Trinity one consciousness, or three consciousnesses? How could one discover this? Or could it be discovered? Christians tend to claim that they can only know what their god has “revealed” to them about itself, suggesting that one could not discover these things without such spoon-fed information. I have not found any text which directly speaks to this, but it seems a most basic question. Often we see statements to the effect that the Christian god is

three unique persons, each one with individual personality traits… Trinity does not mean three gods exist who together make up God. That would be tritheism. God is one…. There is only one God, but within that unity are three eternal and co-equal Persons – all sharing the same essence and substance, but each having a distinct existence… There’s no question that the Trinity is one of the great mysteries of God and the Bible. Yet that should not keep us from trying to understand it and what it means for us. (Bruce Bickel and Stan Jantz, Knowing God 101: A Guide to Theology in Plain Language, p. 57)

If “three unique persons” entails three distinct consciousnesses (and why wouldn’t it? Doesn’t a unique “Person” have its own consciousness?), it seems that we are in fact dealing with polytheism. But Christians will vehemently deny this interpretation. As the statement above asserts: “Trinity does not mean three gods exist who together make up God.” But since “God” as such supposedly includes these “three unique persons,” this doctrine suggests that “God” is more than any of its “three unique persons” considered individually. After all, for example, what would the Son be without the Father and the Spirit? But this view is also apparently rejected, for we are told that “each person in the Godhead is both equal to and the same as the others” (Ibid., p. 58). What’s more, “each Person in the Trinity is equal to God,” such that:

God the Father is God
Jesus the Son is God
The Holy Spirit is God (Ibid., pp. 58-59)

Given that the members of the Trinity are “unique persons,” and each of these members is equated with “God,” I count three distinct gods there. How about you?

But no, Christians insist that the Christian god is only one god: “Hear, O Israel; the Lord our God, the Lord is One” (Deut. 6:4).

Are you with me so far?

Let’s see if some other statements can help clarify the matter. Regarding the so-called “Trinitarian” nature of the Christian god, John Frame explains:

the Christian God is a three in one. He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. There is only one God… But the Father is God…, the Son is God…, and the Spirit is God… Somehow they are three, and somehow they are one. The Nicene Creed says that they are one “being” but three “substances,” or, differently translated, one “substance” and three “persons.” I prefer simply to say “one God, three persons.” The technical terms should not be understood in any precise, descriptive sense. The fact is that we do not know precisely how the three are one and the one is three. We do know that since the three are God, they are equal; for there is no superiority or inferiority within God. To be God is to be superior to everything. All three have all the divine attributes. (Apologetics to the Glory of God, p. 46; emphasis added)

So far as I can tell, we’re still faced with the same muddle here. Note that both sources so far consulted confess in one way or another that this doctrine poses stumblingblocks to sense-making. Above we were told that “there’s no question that the Trinity is one of the great mysteries of God and the Bible,” and here Frame admits that Christians “do not know precisely how the three are one and the one is three.” When Frame announces that “somehow they are three, and somehow they are one,” he’s essentially telling us that he doesn’t know how they can be both one and three at the same time. But then we’re expected to accept this as knowledge. By suggesting that the difficulty lies in his inability to find the “precise” terms by which this quizzical relationship can be best described, Frame is trying to trivialize the problem: the difficulty is not in describing it with terminological precision, but in reconciling the elements which are said to enjoy a relationship which can only be described in a manner which points to contradiction. One should not be in the habit of accepting contradictions only to say that the contradiction results merely from the inability to find the right terms to describe it. Christians have had 2,000 years to find the right terms, but the problem still persists. Doesn’t that tell us something? Then again, for the religious mind, which opens itself up to accepting absurd notions, this may be seen as unproblematic. But insofar as identifying the proper basis of logic is concerned, the doctrine of the Trinity is a haunting spectre which decisively disqualifies the presuppositionalist claim that the laws of logic "reflect" the Christian god's "nature." The laws of logic definitely do not reflect the nature of something so monstrously irrational as Christianity's doctrine of the Trinity.

Recalling the teaching of his professor, Cornelius Van Til, on the quagmire haunting the doctrine of the Trinity, Frame writes:

With regard to the doctrine of the Trinity, Van Til denies that the paradox of the three and one can be resolved by the formula "one in essence and three in person." Rather, "We do assert that God, that is, the whole Godhead, is one person." Van Til's doctrine, then, can be expressed "One person, three persons" -- an apparent contradiction. This is a very bold theological move. Theologians are generally most reluctant to express the paradoxicality of this doctrine so blatantly. (Van Til: The Theologian, p. 14)

With expressions like “One person, three persons,” which are meant to refer to the same entity, how could the believer not be affirming a contradiction? Presuppositionalists want to call it merely “an apparent contradiction,” which suggests that what we’re seeing is not truly a contradiction, and that the problem lies with us as onlookers in the matter. I suppose one could swaddle any contradiction he can’t let go of with such disclaimers. If I affirmed that the sun is both a sun but also three planets, one could be forgiven for supposing that I have contradicted myself. But what would stop me from qualifying my statement by saying it’s merely “an apparent contradiction”? Contradictions are to be taken seriously in philosophical matters, and where there’s smoke, they’re often something smoldering if not raging on fire.

In trying to sort all this out, Frame writes elsewhere:

How, then, do we relate the “one person” to the “three persons”? Van Til asserts that “this is a mystery that is beyond our comprehension.” Indeed! But he does not say that the two assertions are contradictory. Are they in fact contradictory? That may seem obvious, but in fact it is not necessarily the case. Anybody who has studied logic knows that something can be both A and not-A if the two A’s have different senses. In this case, God can clearly be both one person and not-one person, if the meaning of “person” changes somewhat between the two uses… How is the word person used in different senses or respects? Obviously, there is some difference between the sense of “person” applied to the oneness of God and the sense applied to the three members of the Trinity. Van Til would agree, for example, with the creedal statements that the Father is the begetter, the Son is begotten, and the Spirit is the one who proceeds; the whole Godhead is neither begetter, begotten, nor proceeder. But neither Van Til nor I would claim to be able to state, precisely and exhaustively, the difference between God’s essence and the individual persons of the Godhead. (Cornelius Van Til: An Analysis of His Thought, pp. 68-69; quoting Van Til, Introduction to Systematic Theology, p. 230)

None of this bolsters any confidence that what we’re dealing with here is anything other than a contradiction, that is, of course, unless one is confessionally invested in the view that it simply cannot be a contradiction as a matter of religious faith. We’re told that “something can be both A and not-A if the two A’s have different senses.” But in logic, the fundamental law of identity denotes an identical relationship of an object to itself, such that A is A. Otherwise we’re faced with an equivocation. At any rate, Frame’s suggestion that the terms here have different senses does him little good. He says “obviously, there is some difference between the sense of ‘person’ applied to the oneness of God and the sense applied to the three members of the Trinity.” But is this really “obviously” the case? I don’t think the term “person” implies that it is being used in different senses here. Rather, it is the dogmatic insistence that there is no contradiction in the doctrine of the Trinity which compels Frame to suppose that there are two different senses here. But even here Frame effectually admits that this difference cannot be identified. That “the creedal tradition, too, fails to give a ‘precise’ account of the relations between God’s ‘essence’ and his ‘persons’” (Ibid., p. 69), does not excuse the matter, nor does this undo a contradiction in the doctrine of the Trinity. Adding to the problem is that “we do not have precise definitions of ‘person’ or ‘essence’ or ‘substance’ (Ibid., p. 70), the very concepts used in describing the Trinity and its members. Even in spite of not having “precise definitions” of these terms, Frame does not offer the definitions which he supposedly does have. Definition is the final step in concept-formation. If Frame does not have suitable definitions for his doctrinal assertions, could it be that this is a result of not having a good theory of concepts (as I pointed out here)?

Perhaps Frame would redirect at this point, indicating that no theory of concepts which man is capable of understanding would be sufficient to overcome the difficulty here. Indeed, Frame himself admits the assault which the doctrine of the Trinity poses on reason: “there is a point at which our reason must admit its weakness and simply bow before God’s majesty” (Ibid.). So now the problem is not with the doctrine, but with reason. But the method of reason is logic, the art of non-contradictory identification. So if the weakness is with reason, then this weakness must also infect logic. But the Trinity, since it is the nature of the Christian god, would have to lie at logic’s foundations if it were in fact the case that logic presupposes the Christian god. How can a system built upon a foundation suddenly fail when it comes to understanding that foundation?

John Frame concludes:

On the basis of Scripture, we can say that God’s nature and revelation are noncontradictory. That is a “good and necessary consequence” drawn from the truth and faithfulness of God. But Scripture does not promise that we will always be able to demonstrate the consistency of biblical teaching, apart from the general consideration of God’s truth and faithfulness. We may not always be able to show how two concepts can logically coexist. There may well be times when our inability to specify exhaustively the precise senses of terms we use will result in unresolved apparent contradictions. But why not? We walk by faith, not by sight. (Cornelius Van Til: An Analysis of His Thought, pp. 70-71)

Frame’s first statement here – that it is “on the basis of Scripture” that the doctrine of the Trinity can be affirmed as non-contradictory – is misleading. It is not “on the basis of Scripture,” but on the basis of the assumption that “Scripture” is infallibly true that believers make such affirmations. When it comes to determining whether or not the doctrine of the Trinity conforms to the law of identity, we are given excuses, equivocations, vague definitions (if even that), a tendency to treat key terms interchangeably, etc. Sadly, however, in spite of the Christian’s protest against the charge of contradiction in the case of the Trinity, there actually is a contradiction here. On the one hand, we are told that each of the three members of the Trinity is a unique, distinct person. But then we’re told that each of these persons is “equal to God” (where earlier “God” consisted of thee distinct persons) and is “the same as the others” (so they really aren’t unique or distinct from one another).

In fact, what we have in the doctrine of the Trinity, as it has been described in the foregoing sources, is a three-fold contradiction. Expressed in terms of the law of identity, the doctrine of the Trinity reduces to the following formulation:

A is both A (itself) and non-A (more than itself)

This formulation of course is self-contradictory.

When applied to the different members of the Trinity, we then have the following:

A) God is both (i) God the Father (itself) and (ii) the Godhead (more than itself)
B) God is both (i) God the Son (itself) and (ii) the Godhead (more than itself)
C) ) God is both (i) God the Holy Spirit (itself) and (ii) the Godhead (more than itself)

Why?

Because:

God the father is both God the father and more than God the father – i.e., also God the son and God the Holy Ghost. In other words, God the father is both itself and more than itself at the same time. It is both A and more than A.

The same is the case for the other two persons of the trinity.

In conclusion, the doctrine of the Trinity is hopelessly contradictory.

So the presuppositionalist claim that the Christian god is the basis of logic, or that logic reflects the character of the Christian god, apparently rests on ignoring what Christian theology teaches about its own god. For it would have us believe that logic is based on three distinct instances of something being both itself and more than itself at the same time (i.e., for all eternity, since the trinity is supposed to be eternal).

Van Til tells us that “God must always remain mysterious to man” (The Defense of the Faith, p. 14). If this same god is supposed to be the foundation of logic, this would mean that the foundation of logic “must always be mysterious to man.” But why should one accept this? We understand what logic is, what its purpose is, why man needs it, etc. Logic itself is not mysterious in any way. Why should we think its foundation “must always remain mysterious to man”?

I submit, then, that the presuppositionalist claim that logic presupposes the existence of the Christian god, cannot be true and in fact should be rejected completely.

by Dawson Bethrick

Monday, June 29, 2009

Does Logic Presuppose the Christian God? Part I: Examining the Presuppositionalist Viewpoint

Anyone who is at all familiar with presuppositionalist apologetics has heard it before: no one can “account for” the laws of logic without “presupposing” the existence of the Christian god. For instance, in his debate with the atheist Dr. Gordon Stein, Christian apologist Greg Bahnsen exclaims:

The atheist world view is irrational and cannot consistently provide the preconditions of intelligible experience, science, logic, or morality. The atheist world view cannot allow for laws of logic, the uniformity of nature, the ability for the mind to understand the world, and moral absolutes.

If we look beyond Bahnsen’s tendentious habit of referring to something he calls “the atheist worldview” (as if there were a single worldview to which all atheists ascribe, which is simply not true), we see that the gist of Bahnsen’s point here is consistent with his claim that “logic, the laws of nature, and the laws of morality make no sense unless God is presupposed” (John Frame, Bahnsen at the Stein Debate). While it is noteworthy how much power such a position grants to mere human conscious activity (e.g., simply presupposing - a conscious action – the existence of the Christian god is sufficient to “make sense” of “logic, the laws of nature, and the laws of morality”; one presumably only needs to assume the existence of god, not study logic, nature and morality, to understand these), much ink has been spilled by Christian apologists repeating such claims. But simply repeating these claims is not the same as proving their assumed truth, and an examination of presuppositional treatments of the case for logic presupposing the Christian god and various statements made in the literature, may reveal why uncritical repetition of such claims is preferred to full-blown analysis of the relevant issues.

In the present paper I will examine statements made by presuppositionalists on behalf of their claim that logic somehow presupposes the existence of the Christian god, and in a follow-up entry (Part II) I will provide several key reasons why logic does not and cannot presuppose any gods (Christian or otherwise) or have any fundamental association with the mystical teachings of any religion (including Christianity).

Obviously presuppositionalists think that logic has some important relationship to the Christian god. But getting a clear understanding of just what this relationship is supposed to be, is not very easy. First of all, it is noteworthy to point out that, while Christians claim that everything which exists other than their god was created by their god, presuppositionalists typically resist saying that their god created logic. This is probably because such a position would be too overtly subjective for PR purposes, and too problematic to defend. But in spite of such reservations, they are anxious to associate logic fundamentally with their god, as if logic could not exist unless their god also exists. Consider the following statement, again from Greg Bahnsen:

We are not saying God created the laws of logic by His volitional self-determination. Were this so, then He could alter or discard them as well... Rather, we are saying that the laws of logic reflect His nature, the way He is in Himself. They are, therefore, eternal expressions of the unchanging character of God (Numb. 23:19; Mal. 3:6; James 1:17). God’s unchanging character is just that, unchanging. Therefore the laws of logic (which reflect that character) are unchanging and unchangeable, in that God “cannot deny Himself” (2 Tim. 2:13). (Pushing the Antithesis: The Apologetic Methodology of Greg L. Bahnsen, p. 210)

Bahnsen’s chief concern here in regard to the nature of the laws of logic itself, is that they are “unchanging and unchangeable.” The law of identity, for instance, is not something one can bend out of shape to suit illegitimate purposes, and begging the question will always be a fallacy, here and everywhere. This “unchanging and unchangeable” nature of the laws of logic presumably requires something behind them which is also “unchanging and unchangeable,” and for Bahnsen that could only be the Christian god: the Christian god is supposed to be unchanging – Bahnsen cites Mal. 3:6 (“For I, the LORD, do not change”) as support – and (in some way whose mechanics do not seem to be explained) “the laws of logic reflect” the unchanging nature of this deity. Indeed, for Bahnsen, the laws of logic are “eternal expressions of the unchanging character of God.”

Now it seems to me that anyone can imagine an invisible magic being, claim that its nature does not change, and insist that the laws of logic “reflect” its unchanging nature. I could, for example, fantasize that the laws of logic reflect the nature of Blarko the Wonderbeing, whose nature is "unchanging and unchangeable." Of course, this would be mere fantasy at this point, completely baseless, and utterly at odds with reality. And while it seems that presuppositionalists provide essentially nothing better than this, they insist that their god is not imaginary and that logic in fact requires (“demands” as one apologist puts it) the existence of an “immaterial” being which could only be the Christian god. Unfortunately, however, the apologists have given no substantial reason to suppose that their god is something other than a fantasy. Instead of TAG – i.e., the “transcendental argument for the existence of God” – apologists have in fact served up a rendition of FAG - i.e., the fantastical assertion of the existence of God. For in the final analysis, it is fundamental to Christianity that the distinction between reality and imagination be blurred, and if you scratch the chest-pounding surface of presuppositionalism, you’ll find that there is ultimately no argument here to begin with.

But make no mistake about it, presuppositionalists want us to take their claim that the laws of logic reflect their god’s nature seriously, and to accept it as truth. Yet it remains unclear what exactly this claim is supposed to mean, let alone why anyone should believe it. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find this claim in the bible itself, which according to Christianity is supposed to be the Christian god’s own self-revelation to man. If one does not learn that the laws of logic reflect the Christian god’s nature from the bible, how would one discover this? Or is it something one discovers in the first place, or is it something that apologists have stipulated as a core element in their debating strategy (such as FAG)? After examining the matter, it seems to me that the apologists have attempted to shoplift logic expressly for apologetic purposes, in spite of the fact that their god is really only imaginary and the actual basis of logic points unmistakably to non-Christian fundamentals (as I will show in my follow-up entry).

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s take a closer look at what presuppositionalists say about the relationship between logic and their god.

Bahnsen tells us that

One’s use of and account of logic is [sic] not something religiously neutral, but indicates [sic] something about one’s fundamental view of reality. (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 236.)

Of course, I would agree with this. I don’t think a thinker’s understanding and application of logic are “religiously neutral” in any way. Rather, I think that these point to a fundamental truth which is in fact incompatible with the religious view of the world (including Bahnsen’s Christianity). Again, I will elaborate on this point for my follow-up paper. For our present purposes, we are concerned to get a fuller understanding of how presuppositionalism characterizes the relationship between logic and the Christian god. It is because logic allegedly implies the Christian god, that presuppositionalists would hold that any human being’s “use and account of logic is [sic] not something religiously neutral.” Bahnsen is essentially trying to say that, since logic presupposes the reality of the Christian god (an assertion in bad need of both explanation and support), the non-Christian’s use of logic proves the absurdity of his non-Christian beliefs and confirms the truth of Christianity. This is, in essence, what the presuppositional strategy seems to amount to.

But with each iteration of this position, it seems to twist out of shape, making it all the more difficult to pin down exactly what this intimate relationship the Christian god allegedly has with logic.

For instance, consider the following statement which Bahnsen quotes from Van Til:

the Christian views logic as a reflection of God’s own thinking, rather than as laws or principles that are “higher” than God or that exist “in independence of God and man.” (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 236; quoting Introduction to Systematic Theology, p. 11.)

Where earlier we were told that the laws of logic “reflect” the Christian god’s nature, now we’re told that logic is “a reflection of God’s own thinking.” While these do not appear to be equivalent statements (a person’s nature is a precondition of its ability to think and anything it actually does think), what is clear is that both views characterize logic as something dependent upon the Christian god in some way. How it is supposedly dependent upon the Christian god, again remains unclear.

In the present case, however, by characterizing logic as a “reflection” of someone’s actual thinking, presuppositionalism seems to reverse the proper relationship between logic and thought. Generally speaking, thinking is considered to require a standard to guide its path of identifications and inferences. When someone says that an individual’s thinking is logical on a given matter, he is essentially saying that it conforms to certain criteria which obtain independent of that thinking. Christians themselves imply agreement with this understanding of what it is to be logical, when they apply the concept ‘logical’ to any particular individual human being’s thinking. If a certain apologist’s argument is said by his peers to be logical, they essentially mean that the thinking behind it complies with logical norms.

Of course, an individual human being’s thinking is not what presuppositionalists have in mind when they intimate that logic reflects the actual thinking of a particular personality. While the reversal here remains unexplained, the thinking which they have in mind belongs to a being which their religion describes as omniscient and infallible. But this only complicates things further: an omniscient and infallible being wouldn’t need to make any inferences. Since it would presumably already know everything in the first place, how could it make sense to say it thinks? The task of thinking is to integrate facts and details one learns from reality in order to make specific identifications, assessments, evaluations, judgments, etc. Such a task seems to presuppose that its products are something which yet need to be achieved. Indeed, why would an omniscient and infallible being think, and what would it think about? For what purpose would it think? Such questions seem not to be considered by presuppositionalists who want to defend the view that logic presupposes the Christian god.

Returning to the claim that logic “reflects” the Christian god’s nature, this suggests that logic would be co-eternal with said god, since its nature is said to be eternally unchanging, and the laws of logic “are, therefore, eternal expressions of the unchanging character of God.” What, then, are we to make of the following statement by James J. Tyne, a student with Bahnsen Theological Seminary and contributor to The Standard Bearer: A Festschrift for Greg L. Bahnsen, Tyne writes emphatically:

There is nothing co-eternal with God or bigger than God; there are no over-arching realities, such as creaturely concepts of time, space, existence, logic, or possibility, alongside or supporting God or against which He could be measured. He transcends everything other than Himself.( “Putting Contexts in Their Place: God’s Transcendence in Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book One,” The Standard Bearer, ed. S. M. Schlissel, p. 371)

This statement seems to completely contradict what Bahnsen himself has affirmed when he tells us that the laws of logic are “eternal expressions of the unchanging character of God.” Tyne insists that “there is nothing co-eternal with God” – so that means that logic is not “co-eternal with God,” that “there are no over-arching realities” – among them Tyne specifically mentions logic – and nothing “against which He could be measured” – which would render the claim that “God’s thinking is logical” impossible (since its thinking would hereby be measured according to the norms of logic).

So a controversy seems to be gnawing away within presuppositionalism here: is logic an “eternal expression” of the Christian god’s nature, or is it the case that “there is nothing co-eternal with God”? Both positions seem to cancel each other out.

One thing that all presuppositionalists seem to agree on, is that the Christian god is somehow “above” logic. For instance, in a paper titled Logic Proves the Existence of God: Part II, apologist Peter Pike insists that something “must be viewed in a hierarchical sense as being above logic” because “logic demands this in order for it to be valid,” and since “logic itself demands the existence of” this something that is “above logic,” this something “can only be described as ‘God’." Apparently what is being affirmed here is not only that the Christian god’s existence is required for logic to be valid, but also that the Christian god itself is not bound to logical norms in its own choices and actions. This latter point seems to be what results from the view that the Christian god is “above logic.” Pike himself seems to resist this implication. For instance, he insists that whatever it is which

logic demands… in order for it to be valid… [it] will behave in a manner that is logical, because we have seen how rigid and steadfast logic is. Whatever causes logic must be rigid and steadfast likewise, or else it would not cause logic to behave in that manner.

Pike seems to equate “rigid and steadfast” with the nature of logic, but logic is surely much more than this. The qualities of “rigid and steadfast” do not in and of themselves imply a consciousness which thinks (and to which, consequently, the norms of logic could apply). If something that is “rigid and steadfast” is all that is needed to provide logic with an unchanging and therefore reliable metaphysical basis, I see no reason why this requirement can only be fulfilled by the Christian god.

Moreover, my interpretation that being “above logic” suggests that the Christian god is not bound to logical norms in its own choices and actions is supported by a statement by Van Til, who writes that:

there is ‘no impersonal law of logic’ that dictates to God what He can or cannot say: the logical constraints of God’s thinking are the constraints of His own personal nature, which man is to emulate. Man’s logical reasoning, then, must always be pursued as a servant, subordinating his thoughts to the thinking of his Lord. (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 236; quoting The Defense of the Faith, 1st ed., p. 247.)

But even here we have mixed messages being thrown at us. It is clear that, on the one hand, the apologist wants to say that what his god “can or cannot say” is not dictated by logical laws which are “impersonal” – i.e., which obtain independent of its consciousness. This would mean that any laws of logic which may be said to guide what it “can or cannot say” would be “personal.” Since this does not seem to mean that the laws of logic are themselves conscious beings, by characterizing the laws of logic as “personal” the apologist apparently means that they are in some way dependent upon a personal being – i.e., on a conscious being, and since the conscious being in question is thought to be absolutely sovereign and also the “cause” of logic (per Pike above), the laws of logic in question must somehow conform to its intentions (as Van Til says, they are “a reflection of God’s own thinking”), and consequently the implication that logic somehow depends on the desires of said god seems unavoidable. On the other hand, however, by saying that “the logical constraints of God’s thinking are the constraints of his own personal nature,” Van Til apparently wants to give the impression that his god’s thinking conforms to a logical standard (since they are subject to “logical constraints”), implying that this logical standard obtains independent of its desires, that it somehow results from its “nature,” which presumably it did not choose for itself. In such a way, the apologist is here trying to argue two horns of a contradiction: one horn characterizes logic as something dependent on an absolutely sovereign personal being, and in so doing it subjugates logic to its volitional determinations, while the other horn insinuates that its thinking conforms to logical norms which implicitly obtain independent of its choices and actions. In fact, that the more we analyze the presuppositionalist’s view of logic and the relationship he claims it has with his god, the more it seems that the apologist cannot decide whether the nature of logic is objective or subjective, for both positions are implied in his statements.

Furthermore, the very notion that “the logical constraints of God’s thinking are the constraints of His own personal nature” seems rather baffling, if not completely vacuous. Since the “constraints” in question here are said to be the Christian god’s nature, those constraints would be metaphysical constraints which obtain independently of the Christian god’s choices, actions and thinking. In fact, if the Christian god is said to be able to choose, act and think, its nature would be a precondition of these performances, and therefore could not be a result or product of any of them. So to call the constraints of its nature “logical” is inappropriate, for it commits the fallacy of the stolen concept. Since one’s nature is not the result of his own conscious intentions, to call it “logical” fails to recognize that the genetic roots of the concept ‘logical’ have no part in what is being called “logical.” The problems seem to just get worse the more we probe presuppositionalism’s view of logic. But we’re not through yet.

Since Van Til invokes the “constraints” of the Christian god’s “nature,” let us ask: What exactly are those “constraints”? How do they vouchsafe the claim that its thinking is logical? A critical examination of the bible does not suggest that the god(s) it describes is (are) at all logical. But this should not surprise us, since logic has a teleological aspect to it, in that its application is always goal-oriented: one thinks or acts logically in the interest of achieving some end. But what goals could the Christian god logically be said to pursue? Could the “constraints” of the Christian god’s nature incline its choices and actions to comply with logical norms? It seems not. The Christian god is supposed to be eternal, immortal, impervious to harm, completely invincible. It does not face the fundamental alternative which biological organisms (of which man is a species) face. Given these points, the Christian god would have no objective basis for pursuing any goals or striving to achieve any aim. So what “constraints” of the Christian god’s nature compel us to suppose its thinking is at all logical? Blank out.

Moreover, isn’t man supposed according to Christianity to have been created in the image of this god? Would the Christian then say that “the logical constraints of [man’s] thinking are the constraints of [man’s] own personal nature”? I somehow doubt it. We’re always being told by Christians how depraved man is, how prone he is to deceiving and being deceived, how at odds he is with “the Truth.” This malady is, according to Christianity, not simply a result of an individual’s incidental choices and actions, but an inherent part of the nature with which he was born. According to this view, man is (apparently in spite of being created by an allegedly morally perfect creator in its own image) “inherently depraved”. And in spite of allegedly having been created by a perfect creator, it is because of this flaw with which he was created that man’s thinking is not automatically logical, as his creator’s thinking allegedly is. Man possesses a mere finite nature, a nature which is constrained to certain specifics with which he was, according to the Christian view, originally created. But apparently even this is not enough to constrain his thinking to logical norms. How much more would the thinking of a being whose nature is said to be infinite and unencumbered with creative limits, be “constrained” to some set of criteria (such as logic) which man (being inherently depraved) can comprehend? Questions such as these, which arise given Christianity’s stipulation that man is finite, inherently depraved and yet “created in the image” of the Christian god, apparently couldn’t be further from the presuppositionalist’s considerations.

Now in regard to what Van Til does affirm in the above quote, he seems to miss an important point. The question is not whether or not logic “dictates” or compels a thinker to think logically. Thinking itself is a volitional activity, and any given thinker chooses whether or not to adhere to logic as a norm. So the question for the Christian in this respect is whether or not he thinks his god chooses to think logically, or if logic is said to mirror its thinking regardless of what may think. Van Til’s statement suggests that logic is not a norm to which the Christian god volitionally conforms its thinking, as man should his own thinking. To do so would presume that logic is a norm independent of the Christian god’s actual thinking, just as it is in the case of man’s thinking. And this would not bode well for the relationship which presuppositionalists want to claim between their god and the nature of logic.

Quizzically, Van Til essentially says that “God’s thinking” conforms to “His own personal nature,” but this is not at all the same thing as saying that its thinking is logical, especially if the Christian god’s nature is supposed to be “infinite,” which would make its nature very broad indeed. If it is the case that man’s thinking can be both illogical and still be compatible with his nature as a finite being (and thus reflect the finitude of his nature), then presuppositionalists need to offer a better reason to suppose their god’s actual thinking is logical. In fact, what presuppositionalists offer in this regard seems to be a rather empty statement. A man’s thoughts could be said to conform to “his own personal nature,” regardless of whether or not they are logical. That one’s thoughts are in line with “the constraints of his own personal nature” in no way informs us whether or not those thoughts conform to the standards of logic. Since conformity to one’s own nature does not guarantee logical thinking in the case of finite beings, why suppose that conformity to one’s own nature in the case of an infinite being would guarantee logical thinking? Again, we have another blank-out here.

It would be helpful if the presuppositionalist could clarify whether or not his god has a choice in the matter of its thinking being logical. As I pointed out above, a human thinker must choose to govern his thinking according to logical norms; his thinking is not automatically logical, he has a choice in the matter. But statements by presuppositionalists imply that their god’s thinking is automatically logical, which could only suggest that it has no choice in the matter. Such a position could only trivialize the Christian god’s relationship to logic, making it the inevitable outcome of an impersonal set of causes. But this is precisely what presuppositionalists have been at pains to claim is not the case, and yet certain stipulations of theirs seem to require this assessment.

Van Til also makes the curious statement that “man is to emulate” this “personal nature” which he attributes to his god. The New Testament makes a similar injunction in Matthew 5:48: “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” Did Van Til think that he successfully did this? His god is described as being omniscient, omnipotent, infallible, infinite, able to manipulate facts (cf. Van Til, who claims: “God may at any time take one fact and set it into a new relation to created law” [The Defense of the Faith, 3rd ed., p. 27]), able to forgive sins at will, etc. But Christians are constantly reminding us of the profound fundamental differences between man’s nature (he is finite, fallible, non-omniscient, “totally depraved,” etc.) and the nature they ascribe to their god. All this suggests that Christianity holds man to an unrealistic standard which fundamentally contradicts his nature (since, as we are repeatedly told, man is “not God”). Why not simply recognize that we are human beings, and govern our worldview according to this fact? And why not simply recognize that the purpose of logic is to guide the thinking process of specifically non-omniscient, fallible minds? Should man deny the finitude, fallibility and non-omniscience of his mind, and in its place pretend that he thinks the thoughts of an invisible magic being rather than own thoughts? How far would that get anyone?

Part of the problem with the presuppositional account of logic thus far, is its tendency to logic to a descriptive artifice rather than a normative set of cognitive guidelines. On a rational understanding, logic is normative in that it identifies the proper conceptual hierarchy among one’s identifications and integrations as a standard to which one should strive to conform his thinking (if in fact he wants his thinking to have logical integrity). Presuppositionalist John Frame seems to understand this to some degree, but considers this quality of logic itself as an indicator of the Christian god’s reality. Frame writes:

…the power of logic is normative and ethical. It tells us what we ought to confess as a conclusion, granting our confession of premises. And if it is ethical, it is covenantal; like moral values, it rests on the dependable word of a trustworthy person, a Lord, our absolute divine personality. Thus, when unbelievers use logic to raise objections against Christianity, they are using something which, manipulate it how they may, points in the opposite direction. (Apologetics to the Glory of God, p. 104)

Now of course, it is not at all clear how Frame concludes that something ethical is therefore also “covenantal,” unless of course this premise is built into his notion of ethics. Nor is it clear how moral values “rest on the dependable word of a trustworthy person” or “absolute divine personality.” I have pointed out before that, according to the objective theory of values (a theory which one will not learn from reading the bible), values not only find their metaphysical basis in the biological conditionality of man’s nature as a living organism, but also that an immortal and eternally indestructible being would have no need for values to being with, and that supposing moral values point to such a being involves a profound misunderstanding of what moral values are and why man needs them. (See for instance here, here and here.) Indeed, what would “the dependable word of a trustworthy person” have to do with man’s need for values and the types of values he needs? Similarly with logic, what would “the dependable word of a trustworthy person” have to do with logic’s normative nature? Is the assumption here that a “person” is required to command logic into some normative capacity for it to be useful to man? That would make logic both subjective and arbitrary. If not, why suppose that a “divine person” has anything to do with the nature and applicability of logic in the cognitive activity of non-omniscient, fallible minds?

Moreover, if the Christian god has no choice in the matter of whether or not its thinking is logical (as Van Til’s statement above suggests), then the ethical parameters which Frame grants to logic all the more miss the point. For ethical norms are only possible where there is choice in a given matter. If one has no choice in certain context, then there’s no use for a code of values whose purpose is to guide choices.

Presuppositionalism does seek to overcome its tendency to treat logic as simply descriptively by stating that man should “think God’s thoughts after Him,” which is a most baffling notion. An honest thinker thinks his own thoughts, not someone else’s. An honest man recognizes that he cannot, for instance, substitute someone else’s inferences and judgments in place of his own, and still call any mental operation he performs “thinking.” It would be fantasy instead of thinking at that point. Consider: how would someone know what a god thinks about anything? Of course, he could pretend, and I suspect that this is what believers making such preposterous claims are really doing. But of course they will not admit this. They really want to prop up the pretense that they truly are thinking their god’s thoughts after it. But to do this, they would have to know what those thoughts are, and in order to know what those thoughts are, he would have to be equipped with some cognitive ability by which he could access the thoughts of his god. What is this apparatus by which he claims to do this, how does it work, and how does he ensure (without thinking his own thoughts!) that it’s really working properly? Why not simply recognize that each of us thinks his own thoughts, and be willing to learn when mistakes are discovered? One would need an entire epistemology just to gain awareness of what his “God” thinks, but that would be self-defeating, given the ideal that is being endorsed here, since epistemology guides how one governs his own thinking.

Now apologists might say, in response to my points above, that there is in fact an argument which seals the case on behalf of the presuppositionalist’s claim that logic presupposes the existence of the Christian god. For instance, he might point to Michael Butler’s clarification of how “transcendental arguments” work on behalf of such claims:

Transcendental arguments attempt to discover the preconditions of human experience. They do so by taking some aspect of human experience and investigating what must be true in order for that experience to be possible. Transcendental arguments typically have the following form. For x (some aspect of human experience) to be the case, y must also be the case since y is the precondition of x. Since x is the case, y is the case. ( “The Transcendental Argument for God’s Existence,” The Standard Bearer, p. 79)

Butler does provide an example of how this argument scheme would work in the case of proving that causality presupposes the existence of the Christian god. He writes:

For causality to be possible, God has to exist since the existence of God is the precondition of causality. Since there is causality, God exists. A corollary of this is that whenever non-believers employ the concept of causation, they are borrowing from the Christian worldview since only on a Christian worldview does causation make sense. (Ibid.)

So presumably, according to the argumentative scheme which Butler proposes, the presuppositionalist argument for logic presupposing the existence of the Christian god might go as follows:

Premise 1: For logic to be the case, the Christian god must also be the case for the Christian god is the precondition of logic.
Premise 2: Logic is the case.
Conclusion: Therefore, the Christian god is the case.

Of course, there is in fact such a thing as logic, so it is an “aspect of human experience” which most people should agree on. But as for the argument we have here, it’s hard to see how it avoids the frivolity of presuppositionalism’s fondness for arbitrary stipulation cast in the form of a syllogism. The argument simply pulls the premise that “the Christian god is the precondition of logic” out of thin air, which is what the argument is supposedly supposed to defend in the first place. Contrary to what Butler tells us, there is no evidence here of an “attempt to discover the preconditions” of what is in question (whether it be causality or logic), or any sign of “investigating what must be true for [the phenomenon in question] to be possible.” There’s simply no research here to speak of. It’s not even clear how one could soberly make the inference which such arguments are supposedly displaying. Rather, what we seem to have here is another case of mere assertion pressed into the guise of argument, which we can rightly call “argument falsely so-called.”

And notice how easily Butler’s proposed scheme lends itself to “establishing” positions which no one takes seriously:

Premise 1: For logic to be the case, Blarko the Wonderbeing must also be the case for Blarko the Wonderbeing is the precondition of logic.
Premise 2: Logic is the case.
Conclusion: Therefore, Blarko the Wonderbeing is the case.

I strongly doubt that presuppositionalists would be persuaded by arguments such as this. But if this argument scheme works on behalf of proving the existence of the Christian god, why can it not work on behalf of proving the existence of Blarko the Wonderbeing? There must be other reasons for why presuppositionalists would suppose that logic might presuppose the existence of the Christian god, and these might vary from apologist to apologist. What is clear is that the argumentative scheme which Butler proposes is simply not up to the task it is touted to meet. It is also clear from statements examined above that presuppositionalism seems lost in its own muddle when it comes to explaining the relationship which the Christian god supposedly enjoys with logic’s foundations.

So in spite of all this mess, could there still be reasons why logic might presuppose the existence of the Christian god? In Part II, I will lay out some important reasons why logic could not presuppose the Christian god, and in so doing I will raise several objections to the presuppositional thesis which the apologetic literature unfortunately does not anticipate, let alone address.

by Dawson Bethrick