Criticism of the Ontological Argument for God's Existance

As one of the weakest arguments for the existence of God, I thought it would be a good place to start. As stated before, the ontological argument basically says that if we have a concept or definition of God, then God must exist. This is true, Anselm and Descartes would argue, because God's basic traits (the greatest thing imaginable and that thing that cannot deceive) demand that we acknowledge the fact that God exists.

A number of very solid thinkers have pointed out several rather obvious problems with the ontological argument, namely, we can have all sorts of images in our head that do not, nor have ever corresponded with reality. For example, the contemporary of Anselm, Gaunilo asks "Now could it not with equal justice be said that I have in my understanding all manner of unreal objects, having absolutely no existence in themselves, because I understand things if one speaks of them, whatever they may be?" He further accuse Anselm of confusing the mental formation of an object with actually discovering whether it even is real. Gaunilo asks us to image the greatest possible island and compare it with the concept of a being that which nothing greater can be imagined. (What properties of this island would make it the best island after all?) If, according to Gaunilo, this argument works for the existence of God it should work for the existence of the perfect island, which, on the face of it, seems silly. Just because we can image the greatest possible island, for example, does that mean it exists? Does Santa Claus exist because every December I am bombarded with mental constructs of the Jolly ol' Elf?

A more coherent and real critique of the ontological argument comes from Kant. Without going into too much detail (and the much dreaded re-reading of Critique of Pure Reason), Kant says that existence is not a property of objects. Existence is only a property of a concept. Whether the ideas that make up the concept of God (which may or may not manifest themselves in reality) is yet to be determined. Existence (being) is not something we can safely call an attribute. Existence is not a predicate. Consider the following attributes of God:

• God is good
• God is all powerful
• God is the creator of the universe

Each of these predicates (good, all-powerful, creator of the universe) is a real property of God. What Kant is saying, though, is that the ontological argument makes a fundamental mistake by neglecting to have a real predicate. In other words, the ontological argument simply states "God is" (simply because I can construct the concept of God in my imagination). This statement is actually contentless because existence is not a true property of God (or anything else for that matter). Therefore, the ontological argument fails. What Kant seems to be saying, and I think I agree, the ontological argument is really saying: God is, therefore God is. To which, Kant would ask: have you no other premises? (And, after showing that the ontological argument lacks the basic structure of a real agrument, God is what?)

I personally find Gaunilo and Kant persuasive, especially in the absence of other empirical or rational arguments for God's existence. There is just something wrong with the basic ontological argument; I feel like someone is playing some kind of word-game with me. But I cannot exactly pinpoint the problem any better than Hume, Aquinas, Gaunilo, or Kant. In essence, as a metaphysical realist myself, I reject the idea that if something can be imagined, conceptualized or defined then it must exist. All sorts of loony things go on my head that I thank God do not exist! Does this mean that God does not exist? That is yet to be determined (even if, obviously, I suspect He does). A purely a priori argument does not seem to be completely sound to me.

Ontological Arguments for God's Existance

Ontology is the study of the most basic or base metaphysical categories. The study of ontology seeks to place categories of reality into simple hierarchies. Therefore, ontological arguments for God's existence are derived from categories of pure logic and a priori reasoning. In this case, they seek to marry what we know with what is real.

There are a number of ways in which this argument for God's existence can be laid out, but I will focus on just a couple. St. Anselm of Canterbury's argument is probably the most famous. Essentially, Anselm's argument can be boiled down to the following:

1. God is a being that which nothing greater can be conceived.
2. Existence in reality is greater than existence solely in human imagination.
3. Therefore, God must exist in reality because if God did not, God would not be a being greater than anything that can be conceived.

Anselm observed that people have an idea of a perfect being, they can imagine a being that is so complete in its perfection that no other perfect thing can compare. How then did such a being come to inhabit human imagination if it did not exist in the first place? It got there because it actually exists. Something that does not exist is somehow lacking in perfection, thus that which nothing greater can be conceived actually exists. It seems to me, and here I agree with Karl Barth, that what Anselm is saying is that God isn't really proven by this argument, but rather that God cannot be denied once we know what He is: the most perfect being.

Later, Rene' Descartes expanded on this idea. He compares the knowledge of geometric shapes and the reality of God, writing,

But if the mere fact that I can produce from my thought the idea of something entails that everything which I clearly and distinctly perceive to belong to that thing really does belong to it, is not this a possible basis for another argument to prove the existence of God? Certainly, the idea of God, or a supremely perfect being, is one that I find within me just as surely as the idea of any shape or number. And my understanding that it belongs to his nature that he always exists is no less clear and distinct than is the case when I prove of any shape or number that some property belongs to its nature.

Clearly, as Descartes alludes, there are things that we know cannot exist--such as three sided squares--and there are things we know exist--three-sided shapes called triangles--without really giving it much thought. Because we have a clear understanding of what God is, according to Descartes, we know God exists. In other words, because the concept of God includes, by definition, the perfect goodness of God, God must exist. Because God, "a being subject to no defects whatever . . . [who] cannot be a deceiver, for it is manifest by the light of nature that all fraud and deception depend on some defect", cannot trick us into believing something that is not so and we can trust our perceptions about the world can be trusted--our perceptions of the world includes a perfect being--God must exist.

If this argument is sound, then it really does not tell us much about God in terms of our relationship with that Being. It only says that God is perfect in any conceivable way. God is all-powerful, all-knowing, eternal and entirely good.

Perhaps, that is all we can really say about God.

Problems with the Standard Definition of Knowledge

While I think that the so-called standard definition of truth (justifiable true belief) the best description of knowledge, it does have some serious problems. First, truth is presupposed in the defintion. If knowledge is supposed to be the way in which we determine if something is true and we have truth already in our defintion of knowledge, then how do we know that what we know is indeed true. We need truth in order to have knowledge, but we define knowledge as something that is already true.

Another point of confusion for me is the belief part of the definition. In the past, science (which is supposed to be our unimpeachable bastion of knowledge, not so?) has touted as true certian theories. Each of these universally-accepted theories were fully justified and believed to be true. Indeed, they were concidered knowledge. But, as time passes, we discover new justifications for new beliefs and they become knowledge. Now, certainly, we now know that the earth is not flat. It was never true that earth was flat, yet, in the past, scientisists possessed justified beliefs that the world was flat AND claimed that that fact was indeed knowledge.

How does the disruption of the Standard Defenition of Knowledge effect the way in which we "know" God exists? I think, for some people, the Standard Defenition will only help to explain why they think God exists. For me, though, it slightly clouds the issue.

Knowledge, a Definition

Epistemology is the study of how we know but it occurred to me that I may not even know what knowledge is. What does it mean to “know” something? How can I tell if I “know” that God exists?
According to Merriam-Webster (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/knowledge), the most useful definition of “knowledge” is:

2 a (1): the fact or condition of knowing something with familiarity gained through experience or association (2): acquaintance with or understanding of a science, art, or technique b (1): the fact or condition of being aware of something (2): the range of one's information or understanding c: the circumstance or condition of apprehending truth or fact through reasoning : COGNITION d: the fact or condition of having information or of being learned (a person of unusual knowledge>

In order to know that God exists then, it must be through personal experience, familiar acquaintance. I must be consciously aware of this knowledge and I must understand it.

As I've said before, epistemology is not my favorite subject. It always seemed to me that the major camps of epistemology are arrayed against each other like the old Nature v. Nurture camps. It's rather obvious to me that both play a major part in human development, and, thus epistemological subjectivism, rationalism, empiricism and faith all play a role in how we know anything. According to this definition, I may be required to use many different tools to know anything.

All of these tools have their weaknesses as well. Subjectivism fails because it cannot tell us anything about what exists outside of ourselves. Prepositional knowledge fails because it start from the general and makes assumptions about the specific and scientific knowledge fails because it starts from the specific and makes assumptions about the general. Faith fails because it attempts to know things that may have a variety of alternative and yet unknown explanations.

But all four have their own strengths. If we don't have a point of view (subjectivism) then we don't have any right to say that I know anything. If we don't think about why we know something (rationalism) or if there is nothing tangible (empiricism) to intuit, then there is no warrant to believe that we can know anything. Yet, there are things we cannot know for sure and we must make a leap of faith in order to accept. I wasn't at the Apollo moon landing in 1969 (I can barely remember 1969!) but it's reasonable to believe that it happened and I can actually touch some of the artifacts from the mission. That said, I cannot be 100% certain that it happened so some portion of my acceptance of the moon landing must be done on faith. All four theories seem to be necessary for a grounded view of knowledge.

According to the “standard definition of knowledge”, knowledge must contain the following three elements. I tend to agree with Plato by saying that knowledge must be "justified true belief". I only really know something if it is true, I believe it's true and can justify my belief in the truth of the matter. I cannot know untrue things, but I am free to believe all sorts of things that may not be true. There may be some true things I will never believed, so I do not know them. I can also believe untrue things; again, this is not knowledge. Thus what is known must be true by necessity and I must believe it is true.

As I said, one is free to believe all sorts of things, but we all know that there are many people who believe some pretty strange and obviously false things. Thus, belief alone is insufficient to knowledge. On the other hand, we can believe in something that is true, yet this is still insufficient. The belief must be warranted or justified. If I happened to believe that I have $1.35 in change in my pocket and there just by mere chance happen to be 4 quarters, a dime, 4 nickels and 5 pennies in my pocket and by pure chance there actually was $1.35 in my pocket, would I know it? The answer, of course, is no. I only guessed correctly and so the final element of knowledge is justification. My belief must be warranted somehow. In this case, I can reach into my pocket and count the change. In other cases, I may need to construct an array of evidence both logical and evidentiary.

So, on this view, that in order to know something, it must be true (some form of empiricism), it must be justifiable (rationalism) and I must believe in it (some form of faith). If I rely on any one theory to come to a conclusion, especially about the existence of God, I’m afraid this project will be hopeless. I think that’s why a lot of people fail in their attempt to prove God’s existence. Faith in God seems the most likely candidate for starters, but faith alone doesn’t seem to be sufficient to produce real, sustainable knowledge. For myself, I’m sure faith will continue to play a part in my relationship with God, but it cannot be the only way to know God.

Epistemological Rationalism

The second major epistemological theory I would like to cover is Rationalism, the belief that we acquire knowledge by using our minds. Knowledge is only warranted if our intuition can fully apprehend the thing in question. Knowledge is a result of analytic truth (deduction) and, thus, can be reliably expressed in syllogism. In its simplest form, this takes the form of an argument. The modus ponens (or modus ponendo ponens, "mode that affirms by affirming") states that if X and Y are true, the Z must be true. For example:

1. If today is Sunday, I will be at church.
2. Today is Sunday.
3. Therefore, I will be at church.

This can also be used to prove a negative (a modus tollens):

1. If you are a human being then you are not a stone.
2. You are made of stone.
3. Therefore, you are not a human being.

Of course, there are examples that don't work because we can deny the antecedent. Take for example:

1. If God would show Himself to me personally, that would prove that God exists.
2. But God hasn't done so.
3. Therefore, religion is false.

Just because 1. and 2. are both true, doesn't necessitate 3. There may be other explanations. God may show Himself to us, but our senses may not fully grasp His presence or just because something is not “shown” does not mean it does not exist.

For a rationalist, the mind and argument (essentially) determine what we can know, as opposed to an empiricist who may claim that that the only way to know if God exists if we can somehow experience Him. Only because the world has an inherently logical structure, can we, as an rationalist would claim, know anything. In our case, it must be proven to be a logical necessity before a rationalist can accept God's existence. So, when I begin to tackle the arguments for God's existence, I will be venturing into the world of rationalism, but I have my doubts about this method.

Epistemological Subjectivism

One of the most recent epistemological points of view, one that is growing in popularity, is call subjectivism. As mentioned before, epistemological subjectivism is the claim that all knowledge is purely a matter of perspective. The subjectivist may allow that there are knowable basic dimensions (space and time), but we can only know them and the things in them from a vantage point of the intersecting, and completely unique, dimension of our (my?) point of view.

Clearly, everyone has a unique point of view. We come from different backgrounds. We all learn through different means. We can really only know what what we, ourselves, have either thought about (as, generally, per Rationalism), physically experienced (Empiricism), found useful (Pragmatism) or simply believed (Faith). In other words, even if any other theory is correct, we must start with what is knowable from our own unique vantage point. When I was in school, one of the "big" questions running around was whether it was possible to be an atheist in Medieval Europe. On this view, it would have not been, because atheism was not a knowable position for the Medieval subject; his or her upbringing, teaching, culture and worldview precluded atheistic knowledge.

Often, we hear people say they "feel" God's presence or God has "spoken" to them. Of course, this is completely unverifiable. For the subject alone, this is proof of God's existence. In many cases, I imagine, this may be saying that God exists but God's existence can only be knowable through subjective experience. As much as modern Christianity claims to believe in objective truth, this, to me, is an interesting side-track to the debate. Is this what people really mean when they speak of the Holy Spirit as that "quiet voice" we hear in our heart (our subjective self)? Does "Jesus is real to me, because I have Him right here in my heart" mean the same thing?

The problem that these perfectly valid expressions pose is that it reduces God to an inner mood, removing Him from His essential quality of Other. Without denigrating these experiences, for I am convinced that many may be perfectly true and I would not wish to limit God's methods, it reduces Him to the role of Jiminy Cricket (which I suppose was originally a polite way to to take the Lord's name in vain).

Basics of Epistemology

In order to come to any conclusion about whether God exists, we have to examine how we might know that He (she or it) exists. Are we certain of God's existence? Or is there just a probability? How can our finite minds apprehend the concept of the infinite? How do we justify our claims to know anything?

These are the problems of epistemology. The defining questions of epistemology include the following:

1. What is the nature of propositional knowledge, knowledge that a particular proposition about the world is true? Knowing a particular proposition requires both that we believe it and that it be true, but it also clearly requires something more, something that distinguishes knowledge from a lucky guess. Let's call this additional element ‘warrant’. A good deal of philosophical work has been invested in trying to determine the nature of this additional element.
2. How can we gain knowledge? We can form true beliefs just by making some lucky guesses. How we can gain warranted beliefs is unclear. Moreover, to know the world, we must think about it, and it is not clear how we gain the concepts we use in thought or what assurance, if any, we have that the ways in which we divide up the world using our concepts correspond to divisions that actually exist.
3. What are the limits of our knowledge? Some aspects of the world may be within the limits of our thought but beyond the limits of our knowledge; faced with competing descriptions of them, we cannot know which description is true. Some aspects of the world may even be beyond the limits of our thought, so that we cannot form intelligible descriptions of them, let alone know that a particular description is true.

The third item, I imagine, will be particularly important while discussing the reality of God.

Out of these questions, five major camps have evolved: Subjectivism, Rationalism, Empiricism, Pragmatism, Faith.

Subjectivism says that there is only one thing anyone can know exists: our mind (rather, and more to the point, my mind, because I have no real basis for knowing you exist). Sometimes called epistemological idealism, this position holds that we can only understand the world through our own unique perspective and that other perspectives may or may not actually exist. Knowledge, therefore, deeply personal and entirely a matter of opinion.

Rationalism is theory that we acquire knowledge through thinking, using our minds. Rationalism relies on necessary, self-evident and universal truths, as well as syllogism (analytic truth and deductive reasoning). In other words, the real world is only knowable because it has a logical structure that can be analyzed and grasped through reason.

Usually opposing Rationalism is Empiricism, the view that we acquire knowledge by testing things out and using our sensory experience. It relies on synthetic truth, direct observation, induction (indirect empirical knowledge, generalization). A theories about the world must be tested against observations of the natural world, as per the scientific method.

Pragmatism is the view that knowledge is not, strictly speaking, out there waiting to be discovered. Rather, it is mutable and must be considered in relation to the consequences of its acceptance or rejection. There must be some conceptual agreement, practically speaking, about a given term. Essentially, if the theory, belief, or "fact" works, then it is true.

Finally, there is Faith (sometimes called Authority or Fideism). Epistemological faith is the belief that we quire knowledge through inspiration and revelation. There are some things we simply cannot know through our own personal perspectives, reason, experimentation or conventions. Reason is fallible and our sense can deceive. So, we must make leaps of faith toward any kind of knowledge. At the very least, we must suspend our skepticism and accept knowledge even though we cannot achieve certainty. Justification may be necessary for knowledge of this sort, but it is entirely insufficient to determine if something is actually true.

In the end, epistemology is as much about levels of certainty as it is about the way we know. Usually this is arranged from most certain or apodictic, to psychological certainty (does it feel certain?), to conventional ("all bachelors are unmarried men"), to pragmatic (is is helpful to be certain?), finally down to probabilities. For example, people can point to mathematical truths that can, supposedly, be proved indubitably. But is "1 + 1 = 2" a mere stipulative tautology? Is there any probability that this kind of knowledge is simply an useful convention? So, the quest becomes one of using whichever theory and then attempting to justify or examine our certainty.

To prove that God exists--to be certain in the way that many Christians appear to be--seems like a very difficult thing to do. But, throughout the history of the Church, subjectivists, empiricists, rationalists, pragmatists and fideists have, with various degrees of certainty, all taken their turns. Each one has used the tools of epistemology to make their case for (or against) the existence of God.

Battleground God

Here's a fun little game called Battleground God. I'm not entirely sure how this is scored but I received a "Metal of Honor". Here is the analysis of my score:

The fact that you progressed through this activity neither being hit nor biting a bullet suggests that your beliefs about God are internally consistent and very well thought out.

A direct hit would have occurred had you answered in a way that implied a logical contradiction. You would have bitten bullets had you responded in ways that required that you held views that most people would have found strange, incredible or unpalatable. However, you avoided both these fates - and in doing so qualify for our highest award. A fine achievement!

Apparently, I am part of the 7.66% of the people who have completed this activity who emerged unscathed with the TPM Medal of Honour.

Kant and Religion Resources

After finishing up Kant and the New Philosophy of Kant the other day, I decided to poke around the Internet to see what's out there concerning Kant. Here's a short list of some of the better sites I've found on Kant's religious philosophy.

• Kant's Philosophy of Religion
• Kant's Critical Religion, by Stephen Palmquist
• Religion Within the Boundaries of Mere Reason
• Philosophy of Immanuel Kant, Catholic Encyclopedia
• Commentary on Religion with the Boundaries of Mere Reason
• Kant's Reason and Religion
• Kant's Moral Philosophy

Maybe I'll add to this . . .

Kant and the New Philosophy of Religion

Recent scholarship has tried to paint Immanuel Kant's religion in an agnostic and, in at least one case, atheistic light. The religion Kant has, traditionally, been seen as one built entirely on reason, with clear metaphysical boundaries around those few phenomenal things we can actually say about God. Kant makes it clear that we can not speak with any certainty about the noumenal world and the irreducible essence of things (die Ding an sich). In fact, we cannot even begin to prove that God exists at all, nor can we even be sure that our religious language corresponds to any real object. Additionally, Kant's religion has also been seen as a reduction of the "spiritual" dimensions to pure ethics, where obedience to the categorical imperative overshadows obedience to “God”.

Fortunately, Kant and the New Philosophy of Kant, edited by Chris L. Firestone and Stephen R. Palmquist, rightfully combats these old stereotypes and places Kant's discussion of religion in a greater context of his life and other writings.

Kant and the New Philosophy of Kant, is a wonderful collection of dozen fine essays. It would be fair to say that all of the essays interpret Kant in a theistic light. Indeed, the entire book makes the claim that an actual theology can be constructed from Kant's work. In part I, the various authors attempt to create a foundation for Kantian theology. In part II, this theology is practically applied and finally, in part III, religious institutions are explored in light of this theology. I particularly enjoyed "The Tree of Melancholy: Kant on Philosophy and Enthusiasm", "Kant on the Rational Instability of Atheism", "Making Sense out of Tradition: Theology and Conflict in Kant's Philosophy of Religion", and "A Kantian Model for Religious Deliverance". For those who know Kierkegaard, you might find the "Imaginary Dialogue" between Kant and the Danish philosopher particularly enjoyable.

This book, in my opinion, corrects a great deal of injustice to Kant's philosophy of religion. While it is true that (along with myself) Kant possesses a deep suspicion of any so-called proof of God’s existence and religious “enthusiasm” (Schwärmerei), Kant does not deny the concept of God or its value in producing a moral society. We simply lack the means of apprehending God. Or as Kant explains:

The transcendental idea of a necessary all-sufficient original being is so overwhelmingly great, so sublimely high above everything empirical, which is at all times conditioned, that . . . one can never produce enough material in experience to fill such a concept.

If there is a God, though, obedience to the moral law comes first for Kant, because if we obey God first we are apt to corrupt religion and God. (On top of that, I would say that when we are obeying God, we are really subjecting ourselves to Kant's moral imperitive because God Himself is perfectly subject to these laws.) “Religion,” Kant says, “is the recognition of all duties as [if they were] commands of God.” Even so, God is not proven in morality rather God and immortality are implied in moral action. “Morality in no way needs religion,” Kant says, but “morality inevitably leads to religion." We don’t need God to understand morality, but when we are moral we can hope that God will universally complete the promise of our obedience to duty.

We wish to live in a moral world. We wish for a perfect object as a guide, a measuring stick, a complete being willing to commune with us. The object of that desire is God. We long for God, love and morality, but we cannot possess them.

If the presence of a desire can be seen as an absence in the being of the desirer, an absence that can be filled only by something outside of the desirer, then one can understand all desiring beings internally divided and alienated from themselves; what makes a desiring being whole is the object of its desire, which lies outside of it.

In the end, Kant’s religion can be seen, not moral reductionism or refuge of hardened agnosticism but rather, as one of radical fideism.

Kant believed that his work was not to constrain Biblical religion by reason alone, but to illuminate everything in the Bible "that can also be recognized by mere reason." Indeed, God could provide "an empirical revelation [Offenbarung] of theological truths". According to Kant, phenomenal experiences may just be the extension of the noumenal. Therefore, while God cannot be objectified (John 1:18), He may extend Himself into the experiential world. Kant does not come out and say it, but it is certainly an implied explanation of the deity of Christ (John 1:14).

For someone who has always been on the lookout for reasons to believe, Kant has (almost) always been a comfort to me. When I first read Kant for myself, years ago, I felt that I had found a fellow sojourner. Yet, the humanistic commentary seemed to drown out what I felt was valuable in Kant’s religion. This book brings Kant back from the blind precipice of dogmatic agnosticism.

Philosophy & the Christian Faith

After finishing Philosophy & The Christian Faith, by Colin Brown, I was surprised to see that the book is almost forty years old. Covering the history of the relationship between Christianity and philosophy from the Middle Ages to the mid-60's, this book touched on many issues we, today, struggle with. The tension between faith and philosophy has never been so well-focused for me before.

Starting with Medieval philosophy, Brown illuminates a tale of the endless quest for a philosophic harmony with sacred scripture. From Anslem's ontological argument (God was that which no greater can be thought), and Aquinas' cosmological and teleological arguments (God is the cause of the cosmos and the ultimate designer) we move through to Martin Luther, Pascal, Kant, Hegel, Kierkegaard, Feuerbach, until we reach Tillich, Buber and Schaeffer. Brown covers the 20th Century (until the time of the writing of the book) in fine detail.

For those of us who have a fair understanding of the history of philosophy, the final chapter (Postscript: The Christian and Philosophy) is the most illuminating and useful. While the Bible does not attempt to explain everything, nor does it tell us everything there is to know about God, it does raise innumerable philosophical questions. What does a Christian do with over a thousand years of thinking? How does that effect (or not effect) our lives today? For each of us, we have certain philosophical assumptions in our Christianity. We may even tenaciously defend our faith on philosophical grounds, despite the obvious observation that philosophical systems always turn out to be incomplete. The danger comes when we too closely ally our Christianity to these philosophies.

Sometimes when a philosophy is too closely wedded to Christianity, and that philosophy goes out of fashion or become inadequate, it is easy to fall into the mistake of believing that Christianity itself has been disposed of (p. 36).

In the end, this is what makes philosophy so interesting. Philosophy claims to posses the tools for explaining everything in a rational manner, to prove or disprove anything. But our faith, it seems to me, is beyond our ability to understand philosophically. Philosophy can only serve as an underpinning, not a substitution for our faith in God.

For someone who is interested in knowing where our current philosophic arugments for Christianity come from, this book would be an amazing read. It makes no pretense at going into any depth on any one subject, movement or philosopher, but instead it gives the reader a quick glance at the philosophic currents and cycles through the ages. It can be a bit dry (what philosophy book isn't?!?), but you might be surprised at how much you find familiar without even knowing its source.

Philosophy and Christ

See that no one makes a prey of you by philosophy and empty deciet, according to human tradition, accordint to the elemental spiritis of the universe, and not according to Christ. Col. 2:8

The Bible makes it clear that a, at a minimum, a healthy suscipicion of philosophical, "worldly" thinking should be maintained by all Christians. Paul tells us that the wisdom of the world is not used by God, rather it is Christ who should be our wisdom (I Cor. 1:21-30).

This, to me, is the greatest struggle I have with my faith. While there is no philosophy as such in the entire Bible, the words of Christ and Paul in partuclar raise countless philosophical questions. Am I to believe the God of the Bible has no interest in whether or not I seriously think about Him, His creation, existence, substance or ethics? Is "blind faith" more important than rational theology?

I'm not sure.

In the end, I don't think Col. 2:8 is saying that we shouldn't philosophize, but rather to, for me at least, rationally challenge false philosophies, to expose falicies and work toward a more concrete understanding of our own faith.

Mel Gibson's Passion and Philosophy

In preparation for Holy Week I have pulled out a couple of books. The first book on my pile is Mel Gibson's Passion and Philosophy: The Cross, the Questions, the Controversy edited by Jorge J. E. Gracia. The book is divided into five main sections, with three to six wonderful essays each. Each section centers on a major question (Did Christ have to suffer violently? Is The Passion anti-Semitic? What is Truth? Why was Christ killed? Who is morally responsible?). All of the essays are designed to bring you to some final questions specific to the topic at hand (which may end up being nice little blog ideas!). The tone and depth was sufficient to the task, neither burying the reader in jargon or belaboring concepts to the point of obfuscation.

Don't expect to have this book resolve the issues for you though. In a fairly balanced and open presentation, this book merely explores the surface of the issues. Most of the authors point out biblical inconsistencies and attempt to show why Gibson made some of the choices he made.

For some people, the movie was nothing more than pornographic. It perpetuated stereotypes, gloried in violence and showed an easy way toward atonement (by having Christ work at being the scapegoat and allowing us to behave any way we want because "Jesus died for me"). Others felt that is was a moving experience that changed lives; witness the restored marriages, confession of crimes, forgiveness chronicled by Jody Eldred. I found myself sort of on the fence concerning the movie, so this book allowed me more time to reflect and think about certain issues.

Obviously, the "pornographic" depictions of violence played a part in my understanding of the film, as did the occasional extra-biblical scenes and lines in the movie. Frankly, I was concerned about possible anti-Semitic reactions from the film (I honestly thought Gibson could have done better at getting inside the heads of the Jewish leaders). But all in all the movie was very moving for me.

For my part, Mel Gibson's Passion and Philosophy did help to clarify some perspectives on the meaning of Christ's death (not so much the meaning of the movie). Most importantly, I re-evaluated the meaning of Christ's death. What exactly was accomplished by His death and how does that effect me, personally, some 2000 years later? Why did have to be such a gruesome death? With most of next week "off" from work, I suppose I'll have more time to write about these things.

The Bible and Dublethink

Eat thou not the bread of him that hath an evil eye, neither desire thou his dainty meats: For as he thinkth in his heart, so is he: Eat and drink, saith he to thee; but his heart is not with thee. (Proverbs 23: 6,7)

Some explanation may be in order to reconcile my metaphysical outlook (I am an anti-anti-realist!) with my view of faith and it's effects on the real world.

Jesus said:

A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things. (Matthew 12:35)

What we set our mind to becomes the circumstances of our lives. Our state of mind can influence how we act and what is attracted to us, not what realty is. In other words, as Frank Outlaw puts it:

Watch your thoughts; they become your words. Watch your words; they become your actions. Watch your actions; they become your habits. Watch your habits; they become your character. Watch your character for it will become your destiny.

The Bible tells us that when we do a thing, it has consequences (the principle of reaping and sewing, Galatians 6: 7- 10). This is often more of a psychological phenomenon than the way the world works, but the reality of our health, our finances, friendships, the state of our physical surroundings do change because of how we think. What IS reality is different than how we can change reality.

What of faith? Does faith change reality? If mustard seed faith can "move mountains" (Matthew 18:12) then reality is truly mutable, right? In a metaphysical sense, that is not a necessary conclusion. First of all, I doubt Jesus meant that, if I so chose, I could just think really hard about moving Mt. Hood to, say, Seaside, and it would suddenly appear on the Oregon coast. Faith, if it exists as I understand it, is a power, a real power not in our heads but one which flows through us. It does change reality, but in much the same way that a T.V. remote changes channels. The idea here is that our faith seems to be a tool to change circumstances, our attitudes and our relationship with God, not how reality itself works. I would, probably, still need to get a pretty big dumptruck to start hauling Mt. Hood to the beach. My faith though could still play a pretty big part in the process, by attracting helpers, financiers, equipment and the dogged determination to get this monumental task done.

On Bullshit

One of the most salient features of our culture is that there is so much bullshit. Everyone knows this. Each of us contributes his share. But we tend to take the situation for granted.

Thus opens the small--but very important--book by Harry G. Franfurt, On Bullshit.

Philosophy is about exploring the mundane in complex and disciplined ways. It is the science of apprehending truth behind space and time, love and good, meaning and meaninglessness. It is also about definition. What do we mean when we use the word "bullshit"? Why is there so much of it and what function does it serve? These are the main questions this book attempts to answer.

First of all, the book is ridiculously short. It really amounts to a short essay forced between hard covers. It can easily be read in an hour, but, with most philosophy, one reading won't be enough to thoroughly make sense of the argument. Don't be fooled, though, this IS philosophy at its best. Frankfurt is not a Hegel, Heidegger or Kant, but tackles his subject with a keen mind, philosophical methods and refreshing brevity. It is not meant to be funny (even though some of Frankfurt's observations and examples are), so if you're looking for a joke-book, I'd pass on this one.

So, what exactly is bullshit? Frankfurt enlists the help of Max Black, Ludwig Wittgenstein and, even, St. Augustine (in an interesting treatment of his eight categories of lying) to define and explain the phenomenon in question. What Frankfurt comes up with is no big surprise: Bullshit is speech that is not exactly lying. It is "hot air", empty, substanceless speech designed to enhanced the image of the speaker rather than advance the cause of truth.

It is impossible for someone to lie unless he thinks he knows the truth. Producing bullshit requires no such conviction. A person who lies is thereby responding to the truth, and he is to that extent respectful of it. When an honest man speaks, he says only what he believes to be true; and for the liar, it is correspondingly indispensable that he considers his statements to be false. For the bullshitter, however, all bets are off: he is neither on the side of the true nor on the side of the false . . . . He does not care whether the things he says describe reality correctly. He just picks them out, or makes them up, to suit his purposes.

This is why, according to Augustine, bullshit is more dangerous than a lie, because the liar does not reject the authority of the truth. A liar unwillingly lies to achieve some goal or avoid consequences, while a bullshitter is indifferent to how things really are.

So, if it is so bad, why does there seem to be so much of it. Frankfurt believes that the world we live in makes bullshit almost unavoidable. Because we are so often required to speak about things we know little or nothing about (maybe we know "just enough to be dangerous"), especially in political and technical (don't I know it!) arenas, we can't help but sling a little. We're not lying and maybe we even care about the truth of a matter, but the image we want to project becomes more important than reality. This is especially true in our fast-paced democracy where there is immense pressure to have an opinion on everything.

There may be deeper reasons for the rise of bullshit in our society. The deeply held and popular metaphysical anti-realist assumptions concerning the seat of reality informs a highly mutable epistemology. That is, the modern belief that so much of reality exists in our heads as subjective experience ("brains in a vat") leads to heightened skepticism concerning what we can really know. People substitute the pursuit of correctness (reality) with a pursuit of sincerity, as Frankfurt puts it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book. All in all, this is an important book that fills in a gap between informal logic and every-day common sense.

Video interviews of the author

The Age of Consent

I just finished reading The Age of Consent: The Rise of Relativism and the Corruption of Popular Culture by Robert H. Knight. As a long-time anti-relativist, I have to say this is a great place to begin if you are interested in the subject.

Knight does a great job of chronicling the history of relativism in popular culture, from Wagner to "Married with Children", especially focusing on the decline since the early 1970's. While often the pace is a bit brisk, Knight is able to hit the high (and low) points of the decline. The book tends to dwell on the symptoms of the decay: the propaganda of television, movies, music, the sexual revolution and art in general. Knight argues that the main agents of relativism are homosexual, feminist and New Age activists, who work to promote a "value-free" society. While Knight makes no specific suggestions on how to combat the problem, his final chapter is a laundry list of positive steps that have been made against relativism in popular culture.

On the negative side, I would have enjoyed a deeper explanation of what Knight though relativism really was. He makes a pretty good go of it, giving the reader (just?) enough insight into the relativists mindset to tell his story. I would have enjoyed a deeper explanation of the title. How exactly does "consent" play out in the corruption of popular culture? In all fairness, Knight is not trying to write a philosophical rebuttal to relativism, rather he assumes the reader already agrees that relativism is a corruptive force and then proceeds to highlight its common manifestations in a historical context.