"Adventures In Missing The Point" Ch.1 and Other Musings

Tony Campolo (http://www.tonycampolo.org/) and Brian McLaren (http://www.brianmclaren.net/) wrote a book together in 2003 called “Adventures in Missing the Point.” This is the first work by Campolo that I have read, but from what I can tell he seems fairly conservative in his Christian views (he believes in a literal, personal, and very active Satan, c.f. p.29). Brian McLaren is a leading representative of the Emerging Church (http://emergingchurch.info), and even more selectively within this camp, he is a member of Emergent Village (http://www.emergentvillage.com/), which as far as I can tell, is simply a group of people attempting to practice Christianity as they understand it (“in a postmodern context”).

But these associations really tell you little about McLaren. I have read only one of his other books, which I think is his best known, called “A Generous Orthodoxy,” in which he says a lot of things that make Evangelical Christians nervous. One example: Brian McLaren is not very clear on some points of his theology, if you ask him if he believes in Hell, he will probably respond with, “Why do you ask the question?” I think that McLaren’s point with not answering these questions directly is to point out that sometimes Evangelicals have their priorities off kilter. They tend to proceed by “checklist” Christianity wherein they ask you some questions and if you give the right answers then you’re “one of us.”

There is a problem that arises, however, and it’s that sometimes certain Christian authors, speakers, and scholars don’t quite grasp what McLaren is doing. This is probably to be expected, because McLaren has an M.A. in English (http://www.brianmclaren.net/archives/about-brian/) and realizes how interactions, scripts, languages, etc., can be used to make a point through much more indirect means than the way that a lot of theological debate is done in seminaries today (i.e. look at the way that Jesus answered questions with questions). Yet, I think it would help McLaren to just come out and actually give a straightforward answer every now and then. So there is room for improvement on both sides.

In any event, I liked the book and think a good presentation of its overall message is “chill out, yo” (if you can imagine a California surfer brushing wavy blonde hair out of his eyes as he says it).

So this other book, “Adventures in Missing The Point,” is apparently about where McLaren and Campolo think that many Christians in the U.S. have missed the point on various subjects. In the intro they claim to be all about seeing their own shortfalls, which is encouraging. And they also plan to proceed by means of a respectful and polite dialogue, without insulting each other, and I believe this could be incredibly instructive to many Christian authors, and even many scholars, who attack and accuse each other, bite and devour, and through doing so gain no nourishment of any kind.

The first chapter to the book is about Salvation (with a capital S indicating being saved from the consequences of sin by Jesus’ atoning sacrifice) – which is a very heralded word in the Christian community. It is written by McLaren, and I think it has many strong points, among which are particularly:

1. That Salvation is more than a point-in-time, moment of conversion (p.26-27 of AMTP). It may indeed include this (or something like it), and this may be a necessary part of Salvation (as Campolo would say), but please people, don’t stop there. Somehow, becoming conformed to the image of Christ is supposed to be thought of as part of one’s Salvation (c.f. Philippians 2:12-13 where Paul, in one of his rarer moment of clarity, says exactly this). Sometimes we use the word “Salvation” to denote “conversion” – or that moment-in-time thing where you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior. But Paul actually uses the word “salvation” (Grk. soteria) here. So whether we used the word “Salvation” to denote conversion, or to talk about both conversion and the subsequent becoming-like-Christ that happens, it seems as though we are supposed to think of them as two aspects of the same thing. I don’t know how exactly, but I think that’s the idea.

1.5 (Because this is really a specifying of point 1): That the something-else of Salvation beyond conversion is about fallen, broken, and corrupted and evil human being becoming God’s true humanity (p.25). This means human beings that have new hearts that love good and hate evil, that put Got first, and that appreciate his creation. There are so many different ways of saying this, actually, and one could go and write some nice poetry about it if they wanted, but that’s the basic idea.

1.7 That part of the reason for this Salvation is so that human beings live with the joy and absence of evil that God originally intended for them (p.20, I think this point can be seen where McLaren gives Paul’s answer to the question about going to heaven, because McLaren thinks that Paul primarily wanted people to experience the joys of salvation). The fact is that evil has destroyed the goodness and joy to be found in God’s created order, and the reason that God intends to set the world to rights is for the benefit of his people (and I would add for his own sake as well, and perhaps throw in some stuff about punishment and justice, but I am mainly focusing McLaren for now).

Two Weak Points:

1. That emphasizing the experiential-benefits of Salvation seems to detract from the responsibility or task-structured nature of Salvation. I think that Paul, in his letters, is very concerned to see his congregations living appropriately (c.f. all of 1 Corinthians, but some nice illustrations can also be found in approx. Phil. 2:1-4, 2:12-15, 4:3-9). Paul seems less concerned about people experiencing a joy that accompanies them following their responsibilities and gaining new hearts (c.f. Ephesians 4:17-32), than he is with these changes actually taking place. Also, I think that Jesus is very insistent that he is the issue – not people or their joy or happiness. It is what people do with Jesus that matters most, not anything else (c.f. Matthew Ch.10 for a lot of material along these lines). It is not that joy is unimportant, or not to be sought after, but I think that an independent notion of “Christian responsibilities” which comes with the very idea of being a “Christian” provides two additional things: 1) a motivation for acting and 2) a moral standard.

2. Not enough said about individual responsibility before God and Salvation from the consequences of sins. I am not accusing McLaren of not believing in these things, only that they are essential to an accurate understanding of Salvation, and that I did not find them in Ch.1. Perhaps, however, I am not the greatest sleuth when it comes to reading McLaren’s views, and it is all there in some rather subtle language. I am open to that possibility.

So I think that McLaren is much better on this issue than many Evangelicals would give him credit for, but that there were a few elements

This Alien Thing, This Stranger in Our Midst

I'm going to try to write briefly about love and what a strange thing it is.

Here is the NIV text of 1 Corinthians 13, the “love” chapter of New Testament:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I think these verses show that love is a very difficult thing, and a very strange thing.

It is obviously difficult to do all that is here: 1) To keep no record of wrongs; 2) To be slow to anger – especially at something unjust that happens to ourselves; 3) To be patient and kind; 4) To not rejoice at evil (especially evil directed at someone who has wronged us and therefore made us angry); 5) To protect, hope, persevere. The most difficult thing, though, is that love never fails in these things. If you act otherwise, then you are not acting in love. This, to me, is the hardest thing about love.

But love is such a strange thing as well. What kind of thing is love that I can give all my possessions to the poor, and surrender my body to the flames, and not have love? Am I not following Jesus by taking up my cross daily (Luke 9:23)? Or if I give all my possessions to the poor, what more could be asked of me (Matthew 19:21)? Such devotion, commitment, and courage – how is it possible without love?

What more is it that love asks? Self-sacrifice is not love. Devotion is not love. Trust in God is not the same as loving God. So what is love?

I can take up the cause of Christ, I can defend Christ, I can evangelize and speak with all wisdom, and yet lack love.

Insofar as I know anything about love – and I only claim to have a vague idea of what it is, and to only practice it on rare occasion – I think one of the chief things it requires is self-honesty and openness to others. How can I love someone if I will not listen to them, and see myself in light of how I affect them?

I may not know what sort of thing love is. But, based on 1 Corinthians 13, I still think I know what love does. I think that it is love which stays an indignant tongue when its words would be just but harmful. I think it is love that seeks to love others in the ways that they feel loved. I think it is love which puts others first, even when they don’t appreciate it. I think it is love that doesn’t require appreciation (even if it would – at the risk of being redundant – be appreciated). I think it is love that keeps anger from hurting others. Love is the heart that breaks for the pain of others. And I think that if I fail in these things, then I fail to love.

(And, for my brethren in the academic community, I think it is love that stops ink from spilling insults on the printed page that wound others in the body of Christ).

So I see now that though I may love someone, I will never act in perfect love. I can never fulfill all these things. Such is God’s domain alone.

In the end, I find that Love is strange, love is hard, love is compelling.

(re)Construction

I find that at times I can be a highly motivated individual. It also happens that at times I am completely exasperated and devoid of the will to accomplish anything. In talking about those moments, hours, days (perhaps even weeks) when my time is occupied with completely unfruitful activities (such as browsing the voluminous clutter and nonsense that the internet is filled with), I do not mean to imply that this happens because I am in need of a break from dealing with the stresses of life. I simply find that some days I lack any determination at all, and I do not necessarily think that this always stems from working too hard and needing some time off.

Instead, what seems to be the case is that I find myself motivated to do things because of an inherent competitiveness and desire to be driven. Note that I have carefully stated the latter in terms of a desire and not its consistent fulfillment, because it is not always the case that I am in sync with my motivations – or that I even possess a set of motivations, for that matter.

The difficulty that I have run into lately is in finding that these tendencies do not fit automatically into the life of an academician. I am not currently an actual academician or professor of any kind, but I am a graduate student, and so basically I am being trained and tested in order to see (for myself) if I can handle such a vocation. That having been said, it seems at this point that I have been relying upon (perhaps not in an entirely cognizant manner) a natural competitive/driven attitude, and a desire to achieve a significant accomplishment, to propel me through the thick forests of academic literature that is the natural dwelling place of the graduate student. It certainly is a jungle out there, as they say.

Now, before moving on, it would be important to take a step back and put these likely nonsensical ramblings into a more coherent context. I think that in my better moments my reasons for going to graduate school were rooted in a mostly genuine desire to contribute as best I am able to the work that God is constantly doing on this planet. I do not think it would be inaccurate to say that God loves his creation enough to be intimately and painfully involved at the points where it is in pain, is hurt, and needs to be healed. What this naturally means for him is that he must deal with human beings who tend to be so occupied with themselves and their lives that they are naturally inclined to turn against God and rarely take the time to force themselves to do whatever is necessary so that their hearts turn towards what is good and become concerned about the things that God is concerned about. I, for my part, am guilty to be counted among such as these.

But in an effort to change, I have given some fairly serious thought to my motivations. I know that in the past I have had times in my life where my motivations were fairly clear and drove me to achieve, but I am not sure now that – give the person I am today – I can live with those same motivations, or even that they were altogether healthy for me at the time. What I have, in fact, decided, is not that I know what my motivations are, but that I have some guidelines about what my motivations should be. I understand that any direction I choose to go with my degree will, hopefully, take me to a place where it will not be appropriate to be motivated simply by competitiveness and a desire to be “the best” at something – or better than other people, which I suppose is what this amounts to for me. Insofar as my understanding goes, the entire body of Christians who are risking to trust their lives to God with the belief that he knows and understands their needs and genuinely cares about them, every person is in this body is called to ministry, and mere competitiveness is not the right motivation to have for doing ministry.

Now, this leaves me (and perhaps others like me) at an odd disjunction. I compete, I like to compete, and I find that I do my best work when what is at stake is clear, and when I know what I have to do to win. Yet, given what I know to be the task of the Christian church, I am not sure how this mindset fits into the lifestyle I have chosen, or how it can be sustained as such. In any event, I think that this competitiveness is something that need not be squashed, but that there needs to be a way to understand it in light of what else I know to be true of the Christian’s calling.

Ephesians 4: 7 But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of the gift of Christ. 4:8 Therefore it says, “When he ascended on high he captured captives; he gave gifts to men.” 4:9 Now what is the meaning of “he ascended,” except that he also descended to the lower regions, namely, the earth? 4:10 He, the very one who descended, is also the one who ascended above all the heavens, in order to fill all things. 4:11 It was he who gave some as apostles, some as prophets, some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, 4:12 to equip the saints for the work of ministry, that is, to build up the body of Christ, 4:13 until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God—a mature person, attaining to the measure of Christ’s full stature. 4:14 So we are no longer to be children, tossed back and forth by waves and carried about by every wind of teaching by the trickery of people who craftily carry out their deceitful schemes. 4:15 But practicing the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into Christ, who is the head. 4:16 From him the whole body grows, fitted and held together through every supporting ligament. As each one does its part, the body grows in love.

On Considering the Ravens...

I recently bought Dustin Kensrue’s solo debut album “Please Come Home.” Overall the album is somewhat Bob Dylan-esque and mainly features Kensrue’s gritty vocals alongside an acoustic guitar. The general impression that I get is an intentional rough-around-the-edges style of production, which is fine with me considering Kensrue’s lyrical credentials. It is something of a change, however, for this lead singer of the “Christian” metal band “Thrice.”

In any event, I am not writing a review of the album but I do want to recommend it. Kensrue is a Christian and the promo track “Please Come Home” is based on Jesus’ parable of “The Prodigal Son” (more accurately titled “The Compassionate Father,” found in Luke 15), and there are various not-so-subtle Christian themes woven throughout.

What I want to do instead of a review is reflect on some lyrics from the song “Consider The Ravens,” which I have been thinking about for a little while now. I am not entirely sure what drove me to think about these particular words in the way that I have, nor why the notions that I arrived at have seemed something new to me. But that is what happened. Here, then, are the lyrics:

“Between the river and the ravens I’m fed,

Between oblivion and blazes I’m led,

So Father give me faith, providence and grace.”

This constitutes the half of the chorus that I want to focus on, and it is set against the backdrop of a song that seems to speak in general about the difficulty of following a path for one’s life that seems true to God’s will. The main idea seems to be a struggle with how to bear up under hard times, and what to ask of God during those times. What I like about these lyrics is that I think they can take on a broader dimension of meaning when looked at from that perspective – at least broader than I would normally give them. So here is my own – admittedly questionable – extrapolation on what I would want to mean if I were in the situation that the song depicts.

“So father give me faith…” Please God, give me the faith that James speaks about, the kind that is evidenced by my works. The kind of faith that means more than a conviction or belief, but the faith that means continuing to struggle for the sake of your Kingdom during hard times. I am on this path for your Kingdom, please give me the faith to follow it. I need you to give me this faith God, because I’m sure that I don’t have it of myself.

…providence…” God, I need to know that you are being providential in my life during this time. I need to know that what I have chosen for my life is in accordance with your will, and that if I have somehow failed at this, that you will still give me some providence, that you will still help me to make the best of my time for your Kingdom. I need to know that my time will be worthwhile. I understand that I have salvation and that this is your providence as well, yet I ask – if you are willing – that what I am doing with be worthwhile for the sake of your Kingdom.

“…and grace.” Oh God, I know that I have forgiveness through your son. I know that I have already received more grace than I could ever understand because of what he has done, and because I have trusted in him. But Lord, yet daily will I sin and turn against you – and the same sins I have committed so many times before! I asked you for providence and faith, yet I will fail you in living out both of these as you set them before me. So Father, please, I ask for your grace. I ask for you to give me grace for those times that I fail you, to still allow me to be a useful servant to you. I am going to fail you, and I am going to need your grace during those times.

Anyway, that’s what I was thinking. Take it for what it’s worth.

Michael Martin's Argument from Evil

In the book The Problem of Evil, edited by Micheal L. Peterson (1992), there is an argument presented against the existence of God by philosopher Michael Martin. Here I will present Martin’s argument and a few responses.

Martin begins by saying that he will show how evil can be used as evidence against the existence of God, specifically in response to another philosopher who alleged that such had yet to be accomplished by the various atheistic arguments from evil (Pargetter in Mind, 1976),

The first concern that Martin has is to define the way in which evil conflicts with the existence of God. He says that we might think of evil as providing prima facie evidence of God. The definition of prima facie that he advances involves three variables: H = a given hypothesis, E = evidence, and A = relevant assumptions made. Thus, he says that, “E is prima facie evidence against H if E and H do not entail a contradiction and A and A do not entail a contradiction and E and H and A do entail a contradiction,” (136, emphasis added).

In his argument, then, Martin considers evil to be the evidence E, H to be the proposition “God exists,” and then he explores the relevant considerations that will constitute A, which are the relevant assumptions that one chooses to take into account.

The assumptions that Martin himself makes are given little defense, as he already assumes them to be proven. He states that if we consider the proposition, “The existence of evil in great abundance is not logically necessary and there is no sufficient reason for God to allow evil in great abundance,” (Ibid.) we will see that this is a relevant assumption which conflicts with our evidence and hypothesis (E and H). Therefore, we must consider that evil provides prima facie evidence against the existence of God. This is furthermore reinforced by the fact that the proposition “evil exists in great abundance” (E) does not contradict the proposition “God exists” (H), and that (E) does not contradict the assumption that evil is not logically necessary and that God has no sufficient reason for allowing it (A), yet when all these three are taken together (E, H, and A), a contradiction ensues. Thus the conditions for evil being prima facie evidence against the existence of God are satisfied.

Now the few important assumptions that Martin makes at this point are really the crux of the matter. First, he says that the existence of evil can only be justified if (a) evil is logically necessary or (b) there is some reason God has that justifies him in allowing the existence of evil. Second, he says that neither (a) nor (b) have been supplied by “Apologists” over the many years in which they have been attempting to do so.

Both of these assumptions are precisely the points of contention that theists and atheists have been arguing over for a very long time, so it is difficult to see what Martin accomplishes by putting his argument into this form. This is because all philosophers on either side of the issue (i.e. in favor of, or against, the argument from evil) acknowledge that the POE is, in fact, a problem when certain assumptions are granted, and it is precisely these assumptions that Martin gives himself! Therefore all he seems to actually accomplish is a restatement of the argument when the atheist is granted the premises that he wants. This is not a particularly poignant matter of contention as theists are willing to recognize what follows in this situation, and it is precisely for this reason that they take so strongly to opposing the argument from evil.

Hence on the grounds that Martin assumes rather than demonstrates the critical points of his argument it can be seen to fail. He gives us no reason to think that God is without sufficient reasons for allowing evil to exist in great abundance other than to rely upon his assessment of the results that centuries of argumentation have yielded. I would like to add, however, that even if I were to grant Martin this particular point (which I do not except for the sake of argument), he still can be said to have not made many hidden assumptions explicit, and that when he is challenged on these grounds then further possibilities for consider will need to be argued against before his case can be advanced.

The particular assumption of Martin’s that I have in mind is where he makes a statement along the lines of:
(A) For God to allow evil to exist it must be the case that either (1) evil is logically necessary or (2) God has a sufficient (moral) reason for allowing evil to exist.

Regarding this assumption, he says that possibilities (1) and (2) are exhaustive and that no other options exist that would allow God to permit the existence of evil. For the sake of argument I will grant Martin that (1) and (2) do not obtain (as this is what he grants himself), but it I want to argue that this fact does not entail the entire statement of (A). That is, (A) taken as a whole says that we must either deny God’s existence or evil’s existence, and most people would choose God over evil, at least if they wish to accept (A) and remain rational. In other words, I will disagree with Martin that (1) and (2) constitute the entire list of responses that Apologists can offer as explaining the existence of coexistence of evil and God. This will be done in an attempt to show that even the very biased nature of Martin’s argument does not yield the conclusion that he desires.

In response, then, I will challenge whether or not Martin’s list is exhaustive. To do this, I will propose the following possibility:
(B) There is no way of providing sufficient epistemic warrant for the claims that (3) God must balance evil with good, or (4) the amount evil in the world is not already balanced by good.

What (B) serves to do is provide an alternative that Martin has not considered on his list of possible explanations for the existence of evil given that God also exists. This possibility is that God does not need to have a good that outweighs the evil that exists in the world. (B4) basically renders irrelevant the claim that God must have a sufficient reason for allowing evil to exist by saying that there is no way of providing sufficient epistemic warrant for demonstrating such a claim. Thus, (B3) serves to expand Martin’s list and provide options that he has not considered, and (B4) serves to undermine the claim that the assumptions I gave Martin can be granted at all.

While I have not necessarily argued for either proposition (B3) or (B4), I think that taken together they are sufficient to suggest that even if all that Martin desires is granted him then he still has more work to do before his case can be fully made.

A Critique of BonJour's A Priori Justification of Induction

In this paper I respond to epistemologist Laurence BonJour's a priori justification of induction. There should be enough info for those unfamiliar with both the problem of induction and BonJour's particular response to understand the interchange of ideas that is going on. Some familiarity with philosophical concepts is required, however, so go here if you need some terminology explained: http://www.philosophypages.com/dy/index.htm

On a side-note, BonJour teaches at the University of Washington, which is where I attend school.

Here is the paper, it's about 6 1/2 pages long: http://students.washington.edu/mainwt/BonJourPaper.htm