The Calvinist God is defined by his strict adherence to justice. His creation of the universe and His relationship to it are quite different than a God whose essential property is mercy. Although my systematic theology professor—a man who I admire greatly for both his intellect and integrity—came very close to making the claim that these two conceptions of God are not presentations of the same divine person, but he always shied away from saying it outright. And with good reason, the claim opens up a Pandora’s box of sorts.

There are some very serious ramifications for this line of thought. It indicates that at least one of these two sects of Christianity is not worshipping the correct Person. They are worshipping an idol of a God. A twisted version of the “one true God.” Then again, these are not the only two “versions” of God within the Christian faith. Catholic theology, charismatic theology, orthodox theology… they all present their own spin on who God is. Despite the surface similarities between the deities of each of these schools of thought, to say that the God of the Southern Baptist is the same as the God of the Russian Orthodox is a bit of a stretch.

Even within these various schools of thought, are there any two persons who worship the same deity? Do any two Baptists have an identical understanding of who God is? When I was a devout Christian, I had serious differences of opinion with those to whom I was close in the church. Although some of them seemed innocent enough, some of them created within us a very, very different idea of who God was.

Granted, my perception of someone does not necessitate that they fit into that perception. The fact that four people all might have a very different understanding of who I am does not mean that any of their thoughts have an effect on my personhood.

But Christian faith is a little bit different than a casual friendship. For the Christian, faith should have affects on all aspects of life. Faith determines how one views the world, interacts with other people, and makes decisions. So a Christian’s understanding of their God is absolutely crucial to their so-called relationship with God—and by extension their relationship with the world.

The way I see it though, these slight (and great) differences of opinion on who God is not only cause Christians to interact with God and the world differently, but they create individual Gods that each of them serve and worship. The difference between a transcendent deity and a material being is that while our perceptions of other people are skewed by our own prejudices and experiences, there is a physically existing person to serve as a basis for our understanding. With a deity, we have nothing but ideas, outside influences, prejudices, circumstances, and experience to serve as a basis for understanding that deity.

In any church on a given Sunday, there might be a hundred people all singing a hymn or worship song, listening to a sermon, or partaking in a prayer. Each of those hundred people have slightly—and sometimes greatly—different views of who the object of those songs, sermons and prayers is. They are each worshipping their own god, a synthesis of their own tastes and the influences of external stimuli. None of them are objectively worshipping the same God.

The whole thing seems interesting to me in light of the fact that I often hear an “us vs. them” attitude among certain sects of Christians, but even amongst themselves, there really is no united idea of who the supposed core of their existence is.

I have a mild—and perhaps masochistic—addiction to conservative Christian talk radio. Weird, I know, but I can’t get enough of it. I listen as co-hosts take turns viciously attacking liberals, atheists, feminists, homosexuals, and everyone else with an agenda to bring down the demise of western civilization. I can’t help but smile when I think about the slight—and perhaps huge—differences in opinion between the hosts on who God is. If only they were able to understand the other’s idea of who God is, they would more than likely turn on each other.

- CarriedTheCross

Upon looking to my struggles through developing a proper hermeneutic of Scripture to find a moral system fair to the text, and the supposed author of the text, I cannot help but laugh.  Wading through the waters of religious dogma to discover an absolute morality seems so much easier than developing a moral system beyond a conception of a divine transcendent being which by necessity decrees certain actions “good” and certain actions “bad.”  When I left Christianity–in fact, in my preparation to leave Christianity, even–I recognized that I would somehow need to construct (or not construct, perhaps) a new moral system.

So where to begin? Well first I had to assess if in fact there was morality.  Without Christianity, is moral nihilism the path to go?  Or perhaps there is morality, but it is subjective.  Maybe there is still some sort of objective morality existing independent of humanity.  What a mess!  As I collected my thoughts and began to sift through the arguments and counter arguments, I found myself most convinced by the though of Spinoza (there is nothing that is inherently ‘good’ or ‘evil’), Hume (moral values simply correspond to our social engrained sentiments and passions) and more recently Bernard Williams (actions are described as “good” or “bad” not in a universal sense, but through individual passions and social construction).

In other words, no objective morality exists.  There is no ethical system that was created from the beginning of all time and by which mankind must operate or face some kind of posthumous torturous punishment.  Warning! Warning! No morality = promiscuous sex and murder of passion and selling drugs to children!

Wrong.

Yes, I would deny that there is (or at least there is any evidence for) an objective system of morality by which all humanity should conform its behavior, but that does not stop the development of morality.  At this point, equivocation becomes a problem.  There is no morality, but we can develop morality.  Isn’t that a paradox.  Allow me to clarify, unless otherwise specified, I intend “morality” to mean “a system of principles and actions which are considered by an individual or group to be good.” Again, by “good” I mean in a very simple sense to be “beneficial, of a positive consequence.”

Well why in the world would I want to construct a system  of principles and actions that are good.  If there exists no morality, I am indeed free to murder the guy that cut me off on the freeway, or take the purse full of money held by the well-to-do woman in the supermarket.  Enter the influence of Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jaques Rosseau (ironic perhaps, because they are moral objectivists).

Hobbes speaks of a ’state of nature’ in which each human is involved in a ‘war against all’ because they exist in perfect ‘autonomy.’ In this state of nature, I am perfectly free to murder tha man who cut me off or to take the purse of the rich woman.  It is my right, because my liberties are not restrained by a moral code.  It won’t take me long to realize that those individuals are also perfectly free to murder me or steal my property.  Cue the war against all.  Solution? My conscious decision to surrender my right to murder or steal in exchange for their decision to do the same. Wow, we just created the beginning of civil society.

Now there are distinct differenes between Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau, but for my purpose here, they each put forth a common theme: social contract theory.  I deny the existence of any moral absolute, I am perfectly free to do as I wish.  For a purely egoistic motive, I surrender some of those rights to secure my own protection.  Thus, the development of a system of “morality,” I not submit myself to a system of principles and actions intended to promote a form of common benefit.

For me, the story doesn’t end there.  This seems to be incomplete.  A description of morality develops rather than a prescription of what morality should be.  What constitutes the common good? How do we get there? What criteria should I follow to make decisions?

Enter here the influence of John Stuart Mill and other Millian utilitarians.  Though I find Aristotelian virtue ethics and Kantian deontic ethics to be tempting, they are far from satisfying (though for the sake of time and energy, I won’t get into why just now).  The influence of Mill on me is twofold: first the idea of liberty (quanitly enough, from his work On Liberty) and the idea of utilitarianism (you guessed it, from the book Utilitarianism).

In chapter five of On Liberty, Mill puts forth the idea that there are two maxims by which we should be governed.  He says, “The maxims are, first, that the individual is not accountable to society for his actions, in so far as these concern the interests of no person but himself… Secondly, that for such actions as are prejudicial to the interests of others, the individual is accountable, and may be subjected either to social or legal punishment.”  Clever guy.  That is, an action that has no affect–positive or negative–on those around me, has no place in the sphere of social regulation (though arguably, every action has infinite effects… but thats off topic).  So *gasp* interracial couples or homosexual couples can marry.  At the same time, when my action begins to have consequences outside of myself, then I am fair game for moral judgment from my society.  So selling drugs on the playground is wrong.

Also through the thought of Mill, and commentators on Mill down to the present day, I draw upon the idea of utilitarianism.  By itself, utilitarianism seems to be an incomplete ethical theory (most good for the most people, but what defines “good?” and just how exactly are you going to calculate the amount of good an action does?).  However, when one bases a moral system on the idea of secular social contract (there is no inherent “good” and “evil,” but as a society we agree to certain standards of “good” action and “bad” action), it becomes quite possibly to use utilitarianism as the structure through which an ethical decision is made.

So persons X, Y and Z decide to end their war for resources R and territory T (social contract). How then do they determine that action B is better than action C for the community? Say action B provides a high degree of happiness (philosophically speaking, satisfaction) to person X but an extremely low degree of happiness to persons Y and Z. Action C, on the other hand, provides a moderate degree of happiness for persons X and Y and a high degree of happiness for person Z.  Well, action C seems to be the reasonable choice. Person X, then, agrees to forgo his potential for a higher degree of hapiness for the sake of the community.  At the same time, person X can rest assured that perhaps later action D will be more beneficial to him, etc.

 Now much of this may be rambling nonsense, but this is how my quest for developing an ethical system is progressing so far.  The capstone course for philosophy majors is the production of a philosophical research paper during their final semester.  I intend this to be the rough idea driving my paper: that social contractiarianism is the best explanation for moral systems and qualitiative, egalitarian utilitarianism is the best structure for that moral system.

Perhaps working through this mess of thoughts is harder than discovering the correct hermeneuetic through which to read the Bible, but it has been, and hope will continue to be, much more satisfying.

“What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.”  Friedrich Nietzche, Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 153

- CarriedTheCross

So why did I remain a Christian for so long? What is it about the Christian metaphysic, which I now find so distasteful, that hooked me? This is a question I have been pondering for a while now, and though my list is more than likely not exhaustive, I’d like to record some of the prominent reasons I remained faithful for as long as I did.

Intellectual Humility. I am not an exceptionally smart person. I believe that I have a good, solid, objective understanding of my intellectual limits and abilities. I am of an average intelligence, perhaps on a good day slightly above average. But I am no genius. When I became a philosophy major and began to devote myself to the study of Descartes, Foucault, Aristotle, Weber, Aquinas, Hobbes, etc. it became only more clear just how limited my abilities are. I have said more than once that I am a student of philosophy but I am by no means a philosopher.

Why do I bring this up? Though I prided myself on being honest about my intellectual capacities, I allowed my limits to become an excuse for complacency. This doesn’t make sense, but it’s just because I’m not smart enough. There is an answer, but I just haven’t read it yet. There are men and women much better equipped than I am to answer these questions. These types of phrases became common thoughts as I studied particularly in the realm of philosophy of religion. I accepted that I just wasn’t on par with philosophers like Craig or astrophysicists like Ross or theologians like Barth. I would remind myself that each of us had been given spiritual gifts, and neither wisdom nor knowledge had been given to me. A convenient excuse, eh?

Personal Duty. I wasn’t raised by Christians. I had a slow process of conversion, which culminated in high school with my affiliation with the local Church of the Nazarene. By my sophomore year in high school, I was leading Fellowship of Christian Athletes, I was a small group leader in my youth group and I was an outspoken Christian at work and school. In college I began preaching at area churches and spent a year as a small group leader on campus. I have never been one to enjoy the limelight, but I often found myself in positions of influence or authority. In my time I have worked at two summer camps. At one, a non-Christian camp for high school students, I was able to form post-camp friendships with many of the students because of our age proximity. More than one became Christians after our interactions (if not as a direct result of my ‘witnessing,’ I believe it is fair to say that I had an impact).

As I began to more seriously doubt the existence of God, it seemed daunting because my entire life was built around the notion that God exists. My friendships, education, career ambitions all revolved around Christianity. If I gave that up, what would my friends say? What effect would I have on those who to whom I had witnessed, preached or taught? That sense of duty to the very God whose existence I seriously doubted and to his people kept me from exploring too far into the possibility that it was all just a myth that I had been duped into.

Pascal’s Wager. It’s a terrible piece of philosophy. The argument is skewed and incomplete. At the same time, there is a reason for its longevity: it is effective. I consider myself to be a rather reasonable person. At the same time, the fear of the unknown is incredibly potent. As I would flirt with the idea of forsaking my religious affiliation, I often considered, What if I am wrong? What if they are right about Hell? And worse, What if I am wrong and that contributes to others going to Hell?! I considered carefully, as I’m sure others have done about me since my de-conversion, the ramifications on my ‘eternal soul.’ This is the one that seems to be most ridiculous to me now.

Warnings Against Intellectualism. The Bible is not very friendly to questioning and skepticism. Colossians 2:8 warns, “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.” I feel almost like I need not explicate this point (but I will anyway). Time and again I would read this verse and convince myself that I was just a doubting Thomas, that some sort of personal sin had kept me from accepting the ‘Truth’ of Christianity. I reminded myself that there were, of course, areas of my life that would be different were I not a Christian. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to live a normal college life of hedonism. Perhaps I had been taken in by heathen writers, philosophers and scientists who did not have Christ as their foundation. To the credit of the founders of Christianity, I must say that this little verse is genius. It truly does keep the masses in line. It is much easier to dismiss the evidence of atheists if your Scripture holds within it a disclaimer: “All non-Christian evidence is flawed. Don’t listen to it! Don’t be deceived!”

I cannot help but think about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave.. As I began to grow and question the foundations of my faith, it was as if someone jerked me around and forced me to look to the mouth of the cave and see reality as it truly was. Instead of embracing that reality, for a long time I desired nothing more than to turn back around and blissfully live via the shadows of reality.

This is just a cursory overview of some of those rationalizations, fears and excuses that kept me from more seriously and persistently questioning my faith. I am curious what experiences other de-converts or skeptical Christians have had in this area?

- carriedthecross

My road to de-conversion was a long one. I spent several years as an anxious theology major, and later as an anxious philosophy major trying to sort through the veracity of Christian truth claims. During the process of coming to reject Christianity, I remained quite agreeable to Christianity. When I made the leap and walked away from Christianity, a combination to the flood of responses (both positive and negative) and my own naiveté led to a most vicious lashing out against institutions of faith.

In due time, my anger subsided and I was left with the question, “What next?”

There is a great tension in my life regarding this question. On the one hand, I believe Christianity is just another mythology, if a bit more complex. On the other hand, my time as a Christians contributed a great deal to my formative years as a person. On the other, other hand, I see great amounts of harm come from those who subscribe to what I perceive to be false religious belief. On the other, other, other hand, I see people do great amounts of good as a result of their committed Christian faith.

So what to do?

For a while I was attracted to such groups as the Rational Response Squad. Far be it for me to criticize my fellow atheists, but I cannot bring myself to stomach some of their tactics. Perhaps it is because we have different goals, all atheists are not the same, after all. As a Christian, I watched the Blasphemy Challenge videos with disdain. They seemed to me to be nothing more than a slap in the face to Christians. As an atheist, I still see the Blasphemy Challenge as a slap in the face against Christians. The goal of the project is to allow atheists to proudly dissent from popular culture, and ultimately, I assume, to promote atheism as an alternative to theism. The consequence that I see is to marginalize atheists more by making us look reactionary and angry. I doubt not the RRS’ motives, only their methods.

Likewise, I watch and read Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris and am encouraged by the articulate, intelligent and charismatic way that they are able to promote the cause of atheism. At the same time, I am concerned by their blanket statements. Dawkins proposes that religion is the root of all evil. Harris claims that moderate theists are just as responsible for violence and suffering as extremists. Respectfully, I must disagree with both of them. Religion is not the root of all evil, it is simply a vehicle that is convenient for evil. Similarly, I have a hard time blaming the Methodists for Muslim jihadists.

Religious people are not the enemy. War, violence, hatred, paranoia, unchecked self-interest… these things are the enemy to progress. And yes, I believe that Christians, because of their false beliefs, can cause a great amount of harm in the world. But, atheists can cause an equal amount of harm.

Christians (and Muslims, Hindus, etc.), I disagree with you. I think you have poor epistemic justification for your religious belief. I think that you Christian faith clouds your judgment and restrains your intellect. I’m sure you have similar sentiments about my lack of religious belief. But I don’t hate you. I don’t despise you. I hope that my philosophy will one day triumph over yours, but through dialogue and debate, not through coercion or legislation.

Atheists, I implore you not to become reactionaries or radicals. Let us not alienate the 2+ billion Christians in the world, the 1.5+ Muslims in the world, the <1 billion Hindus in the world, the 14 million Jews, the 23 million Sikhs or even the 500 thousand Scientologists. Let us use persuasion and discussion, not angry reaction. Atheism is not a comprehensive worldview. Atheism is the beginning of future progress, not the end.

So on the one end of spectrum, I hope that I can avoid reactionary zeal. At the same time, I don’t want to go to the other end of the spectrum and embrace appeasement. In the name of political correctness, I do not want to hesitate to disagree publicly with the religious majority. Ken Ham stands in the way of scientific progress. Mike Huckabee has dangerous plans for the United States Constitution.

So what is the answer? For me, qualified tolerance. Like most people, I spent a portion of my life as a theist. I understand the psychological drive to believe in something transcendent. I recognize that many of the Christians I know are driven by their faith to be compassionate and socially responsible. Churches run soup kitchens and homeless shelters. And while I can come side by side with my religious friends in these regards, I am not going to back down from challenging the justification for their tightly held beliefs.

- carriedthecross

Now, I know that the Christian university I attend is no Wheaton or Calvin College; but, I think my school is fairly representative of evangelical colleges in America. I spent more than two years here as a religion major, studying for pastoral ministry. And I can attest to the fact that the religion majors here are in no way too educated. From my experience with seminarians in typical Christian graduate programs, I feel fairly certain in saying those students are more often than not too educated as well. Perhaps there is some period of academic revival that takes place post-formal education in the lives of some pastors, but it has not been my experience.

I think I understand the heart of what my friend was saying. He feels that pastors are too distant from their flock, that instead of meeting the immediate needs of their followers, they are busy parsing Greek verbs and throwing out obscure quotes by Anselm. Maybe this is (partially) true, in some cases. But, in the several churches that I have attended, if pastors are too distant, it is independent of their education.

But he brought to mind one of my biggest pet peeves. The Christian ministry does not attract the cream of the crop. The best and brightest do not seek to be pastors. Don’t get me wrong, some pastors are high quality. They are intelligent, compassionate and articulate. But they seem to me to be in the minority.

One of my favorite classes in college was my Systematic Theology I course. It was taught by an outstanding professor who knows his stuff. Obviously, I’ve come to disagree with him, but he is still a quality professor. And he makes his students learn. He requires his students to outline all required texts (and there are a lot of them), his exams are noted to be incredibly thorough, detailed and yet comprehensive. But do students take this dedication to learning and decide to commit themselves to learning the material? Often, no. They complain that the Council of Constantinople is not relevant to their ministry today. They deride Marcion as a heresy of the past that has no implications for how they will run their church. They are uninterested in the way in which current astronomy and physics enlightens their faith. Of course there were students who would do well, but the majority of the class groaned, complained, and found ways around doing the reading. And they were proud of it.

As an outsider to the church, I would advise the church to find better leadership. The reason church membership seems to be floundering in many denominations is not that pastors are too aloof because of their education, but because pastors have nothing of depth to offer their flock. It is almost upsetting to me to sit in chapel and feel like I understand a biblical text better than the chaplain preaching.

Maybe my small-town, Midwestern conception of pastors is skewed and not representative of the church as a whole. But from my experience, I would love to see pastors who understood church history, the evolution of church doctrine, Christian beliefs, early church fathers, the evolution of biblical translations, the study of hermeneutics, etc. just a little better. As a non-Christian, I would love to be able to dialogue with educated leadership rather than fire-and-brimstone folk-preachers.

If there is any merit to the truth-claims of Christianity, all Christians, and especially pastors, should be able to engage culture at-large. Pastors should have a working knowledge of the classics, they should be schooled in psychology and sociology. Their ability to preach should be surpassed by their ability to read philosophy and science. Their love of Scripture should be illuminated by their love of humanities and the sciences. But this is not my experience.

Thoughts?

- carriedthecross

A derivative of a common example used is that of an elderly woman on her deathbed. Perhaps she has been a non-believer her entire life, but she finds that as her life comes to a close she is fearful of its end. She decides to suspend her skepticism about religion and posit belief in some God. Wouldn’t it be wrong to convince her otherwise? “No Grandma, there is no God, when you die your mind will cease to function and your body will rot!” I’m no counselor, but this doesn’t seem to be comforting.

What about the social function churches (and other religious institutions) serve in our culture? Churches can provide a sense of belonging, a safety net, and very basically friendship shared over common interest. Furthermore, an exorbitant number of homeless shelters, food pantries, soup kitchens, free medical clinics, rehab programs, etc. are operated by religious institutions around the world.

Religious organizations can also provide a moral foundation. Though I do not subscribe to any sort of ultimate morality, in a very Machiavellian sense religion does act to provide a basis for social contract in society. While I personally would argue that this kind of social contract is constantly in flux and needs to be modified yet, there is an equal and opposite point that religion, for better or worse, does present a starting point for morality and legality.

So religion does have positive affects. On the other hand, I am sure that few who read this essay can deny the existence of negative effects caused by religious belief.

Religious belief can cause emotional distress. Many Christians, for instance, feel pressure to feel and act according to certain behavioral prescriptions. When they fail to meet these standards, which are often times unreasonable, the result is self-loathing. In addition there are systematic theologies that present a very negative view of the individual. For example, hyper-Calvinism postulates a God who has pre-ordained those who will be saved and those who are reprobate. Imagine an individual indoctrinated with this belief. When their prayers are not answered, it is not far-fetched to assume that God has chosen them for damnation and does not care for their petitions.

Religious belief can cause social tension. Apologists are quick to point out that it was evangelical Christians in the north led the abolition movement. Christians have been at the forefront of many social reforms. At the same time; however, they seem to gloss over the fact that southerners used the same Jesus to support their pro-slavery positions. Post-Reconstruction whites used the bible to justify slavery. So lets just go for broke and call it even, yes? I’m not so sure. It is safe to say that an overwhelming majority of non-believers think that to theist-led “protection of traditional marriage” is ridiculous. It is also safe to say that that Christians support Israel primarily for religious reasons, and do not approach Middle East peace objectively. These are only two examples of a countless array of positions held by theists that seem to be in direct contradiction to reasonable courses of action. Thus, religious belief can be detrimental to others. I would use the example of cigarettes. Cigarettes cause damage to the lungs of the individual smoking them, but cause even more damage through second-hand smoke. I think that Christianity (and other religions… I am an equality-loving liberal, after all) cause damage to the individual psyche, but also to those around them.

Religious belief can oppose progress. I consider myself to be an intellectually fair person. I try to objectively read what the opposition publishes and produces. Thus, I was, much to my distaste, reading Ken Ham last year. A friend saw I was reading Ken Ham and excitedly expressed to me, “I think it’s so exciting that God created the stars to look like they are millions of years old, but really they’re only 6,000 years old.” Scary. I recently watched the movie Inherit the Wind about the Scopes Monkey Trial. And while the movie took many dramatic liberties to vilify fundamentalist Christianity, I think the moral stands true that religion does stand in the way of intellectual progress. All religions are an attempt to make metaphysical claims about the universe. Scientific discoveries sometimes overlap these claims, but often challenge them. Thus the religion is forced to either reject science or give up a conservatively held belief. More often than not, I fear, the former happens.

These are just a few ways in which I think religious belief can be unhealthy, both for the individual and for the community at-large. What comes to mind is an analogue of belief in Santa and belief in God. It is perfectly acceptable to belief in Santa Claus during ones years as a child. As one transitions into youth it is natural and healthy to shed belief in Santa. If by adulthood one still believes in Santa, it is most likely a symptom of psychological disorder. In the same way, religious belief served a purpose for humanity thousands of years ago. During the Enlightenment society began to shed some religiously held beliefs. As we enter the next phase of humanity, to not give up the obsolete belief in God seems dangerous. Look no further than 9/11.

- carriedthecross

Despite my de-conversion, Dr. Matthews is easily my favorite professor. During my de-conversion process, I studied systematic theology and Christian beliefs under him, and he was the primary reason that I remained a Christian as long as I did.

Because of how much respect I still maintain for the man even during my post-Christian days, I was excited to find that he would be speaking in chapel last week. He gave a half-sermon, half-lecture about “Which God?” During his talk, he discussed criteria for determining which ‘god package’ students should chose and briefly outlined some reasons for his turn from skepticism to Christianity.

I am thoroughly convinced that Dr. Matthews is a man of brilliance, charisma, and sincere concern for his students. He could surpass Josh McDowell, Ravi Zacharias or Lee Strobel easily. For that reasons, I feel it is relevant to share some of his thoughts and some of my reflections. You can find his actual sermon by clicking here and finding the podcast for January 10, 2008.

The basic premise of Dr. Matthews’ talk is that there are many potential “god packages” in existence that people can choose from. He defines “god package” as the set of beliefs, holy book(s), founders, doctrines, etc (read: world view). His assertion is that individuals should closely examine the entire “god package” of the various religions before choosing one, and the heavy implication is that upon examining the various “god packages,” one cannot help but arrive at the conclusion that Christianity is true.

Dr. Matthews encourages the students in the audience that an inability to articulate your faith does not necessitate that your faith is unjustifiable. To an extent, I agree with him. The truth value of any form of claim, in this instance a metaphysical explanation, is independent of our philosophical justification of such a claim. However, I fear that the way in which this kind of thought can go is that one can take the position that it simply doesn’t matter whether or not you have justification for a given belief. Because the truth value is independent of our reasoning does not excuse coming to any form of conclusion without following a rational process. As WK Clifford once said, “It is wrong always, everywhere, and for any one, to believe anything upon insufficient evidence.”

Dr. Matthews continued to set out a series of criteria he believes should be used to examine the veracity of a given “god package.” Correspondence, Consitency & Coherence, Comprehensiveness, and Existential & Moral Relevance are the four areas he sets forth.

The first criterion is the idea of correspondence, “Does the god-belief correspond to reality?”

To illustrate what he means, Dr. Matthews shows this video in which an ice fisherman is suddenly eaten by a killer whale, the point being that although we watch the whale attack and devour the killer whale, this does not correspond to what we know of reality, namely that killer whales don’t generally attack people. So then, does Christianity correspond to reality? Dr. Matthews would argue that it does. Naturally, I disagree. Christianity is ultimately one of thousands of metaphysical attempts at explaining reality. However, many of its claims do not correspond to what we experience in reality. For example, Christians often claim that a so-called ‘personal relationship with Jesus’ is the only way to find true happiness, yet there are a proportional number of unhappy Christians as non-Christians. The bible claims that whatever you ask for in prayer, and believe for it, will be given to you, yet a very small number of prayers are actually answered.

The second criterion is consistency and coherence: “Do the ideas of the ‘God package’ hang together? The various affirmations of a “god package” must hang together and avoid contradicting one another. Again, the implication here is that Christianity, over other religious faiths is more consistent and coherent. I’m not so sure. There are countless contradictions in the Bible. The Old and New Testaments do not seem to be cohesive to me. The character of God is distinct in each testament. Old Testament writings largely ignore any idea of an afterlife while the New Testament seems to forsake world gain in favor of an eternal life (Greek thought, anybody?). The Gospels contradict each other. Throughout the ages, Christians have been largely unable to agree on even basic foundational truths of Christianity. In my estimation, Christianity is neither consistent nor coherent.

Next, comprehensiveness, “Do the ideas of the ‘god package’ explain everything well, not just one thing?” Dr. Matthews brings up Mormonism, a popular target of attack for evangelical Christians. Mormonism has a strong emphasis on family, morality and missions. These are three areas in which mainstream evangelicalism can find common ground with Mormons. However, Mormons fail to provide an adequate account of Christology, Soteriology, Eschatology, etc. To further show his point he uses this YouTube video:

In the video, the woman gets two things right: there is a counter, and she should be quiet in the library. But she fails to comprehensively grasp her situation.

So does the Judeo-Christian ‘god package’ do the best job of explaining all of the data? Dr. Matthews would point to science and the ever unfolding understanding of the Big Bang. He points out that Christianity is unique in its affirmation of a universe created ex nihilo, and that until recently scientists almost unanimously affirmed an eternal universe. With Einstein’s theory of relativity, with an understanding of the expansion of the universe, entropy of the universe, etc. it seems more and more likely that the universe as we know it had a distinct beginning. Dr. Matthews attacks the veracity of the Big Bang/Big Crunch model and thus puts forward the Christian metaphysic as superior to all others.

Of the many amateur and professional apologists turned atheists that I have talked to, most were drawn more to some formation of the Argument from Design. Perhaps it is an indicator of my own simplicity, but of the popular arguments for the existence of God, the one that held my attention the longest was the Cosmological/First Cause-type. Still yet, I am often hard pressed to grasp a universe without a beginning, or harder yet, to grasp a universe with a beginning and without a transcendent being. But invariably the cosmological argument leads to the ‘next step,’ “Who caused God?” A particular interpretation of the Genesis may allow Christianity to correlate to a Big Bang model of the universe; however, such a model in no way necessitates a transcendent cause. To postulate such a cause is nothing more than standard “God of the gaps” reasoning.

Finally, Dr. Matthews puts forth existential and moral relevance. “Does the God package bring illumination to my existential experience? To what I am experiencing? To the realities of my life?” This is the portion of the talk where I found myself in the staunchest disagreement to my former professor. He poses the rather pointed question, “Does atheism bring illumination to morality or does it undermine it?” He is quick to qualify this question by stating that you can have good individual atheists, but that the atheistic system undermines morality. In addition he indicates that a Christian worldview brings meaning to life. “The bodily resurrection, I like it!” Dr. Matthews contrasts the Christian “god package” to some eastern philosophies in this way: “they describe what happens when you die in terms of a drop of ink going back into the ocean of nothingness.” The Christian “god package” allows one to look forward to reunion with loved ones and a new physical body in which individuals will not be spirits playing harps on clouds for all of eternity. Dr. Matthews speaks of “the Eschaton” in terms of writers producing great pieces of literature and of explorers finding new and exciting places. In essence, he claims that the Christian worldview provides for existential relevance.

This to me seems to be incredibly weak. I don’t have the patience to yet again delve into the idea of morality without God, which seems like a horse that has been beaten to death (at least in my experience). But the idea that Christianity is existentially relevant seems to me to point to nothing more than a sugar pill. “Christianity is better than Buddhism because if I believe in Christianity I can look forward to an afterlife.” What? What does that have to do with the truth-claims? This seems nothing more than spiritual hedonism.

Finally, Dr. Matthews cautions against two extremes: blind faith and what he calls “reasonalotry.” Much to his credit, he is critical of Christians who tell others to “just have faith.” It takes blind faith to follow Hitler or Stalin, to find meaning in cocaine, to remain with an abusive partner or to wait for a spaceship in the tail of a comet. Instead, he points to a true understanding of faith as radical trust in response an intellectual affirmation of Christianity. Kudos!

On the other hand, he is quick to criticize what he calls “reasonalotry.” He speaks of his days as a skeptical student at Wheaton College. At one point it got back to him that someone said, “Doug Matthews worships his own reason.” He asserts that his skepticism had less to do with mind and more to do with heart/will. Further, he claims that many people who don’t believe in God do so because of poor relationships with their parents. I find that claim to be absurd. This seems to completely invalidate conclusions of thoughtful people in regards to their de-conversion. I think it fair to say that my relationship with my parents had little to do with my conversion to Christianity or away from Christianity.

In my three and a half years as a student at my university I have attended many, many chapel services. I can count the number of services that seemed to be genuinely challenging and/or stimulating on one hand. I am encouraged that the school would put forth a man like Dr. Matthews to at least admonish the students to ask questions. Unfortunately, I recognize that most all of the students are so impressed by his verbosity and knowledge that they will blindly follow in his footsteps because they assume him to be infallible.

- CarriedTheCross

Considering that I attend a Wesleyan-holiness Christian college, it is a safe assumption that the faculty and students of this institution should be an adequate case study in what it means to be “set apart.”

First, let’s establish the foundation of what Wesleyan theology claims of holiness. It references such passages as Hebrews 6:1, Philippians 3:15 and 1 Corinthians 2:6 which all call Christians to be “perfect.” There is a particular fondness for 1 Thessalonians 5:23, “May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless.” Now, I have to give Wesleyan theologians credit where it is due. I am glad that they at least take their own Scriptures seriously. Instead of rationalizing “be holy as I am holy,” they embrace the notion.

The danger, of course, is that some holiness-theology Christians can become arrogant and believe themselves to be above others. However, most thinking Wesleyans are more responsible in their understanding of the implications of these verses on their lives. They strive for holiness, for perfect love, for “Christian perfection.” The Nazarene denomination, in particular, believes that Christians can experience a ‘second work of grace’ called Entire Sanctification, in which the believer can, for lack of better words, ‘rise above sin.’

So then, lets examine these Christians by their own standards. Are they set apart? A cursory review of the students at my on campus reveals little difference than my friends at secular schools. Of course, drinking is outlawed and sex is taboo, but I would wager to say that a good 75% of students partake in one or both of these activities regularly. But these kinds of behaviors aside, what difference is there really?

There is proportionally the same amount of Christian kids who go tanning and waste time and money on an effort to become more attractive according to an arbitrary social construct. Not that this action is necessarily bad, but why would a Christian, holy, perfected and sanctified from worldly desires partake in such an action? John Wesley taught his followers to “gain all you can, save all you can, give all you can.” He encouraged them to abstain from frivolous expenses and give back to those in need. But the Christians here purchase the same clothes as non-Christians at secular clothes. I would argue that a statistically identical number of students here purchase unnecessarily expensive clothes for social reasons.

Of course, I do not believe these kinds of behaviors are bad. But then, what makes the students here “set apart?” I see no city on a hill. I see no light of the world. Nothing that would make an outsider want to join in. Going deeper than those superficial issues, the Christians here are equally as prideful and gossipy as their secular counterparts.

There is no real difference. Now there are certain behaviors that are adjusted to live in this community. Most students go to church. Most abstain from excessive cursing. They are more than willing to proclaim Jesus’ name and disparage postmodernism, liberalism, feminism, etc.

Among all the Christians I have known in my life, some are nice and some are not. Some are generous and some are not. Some are humble and some are proud. Some truly care about others and some are egocentric. This call to “be holy” seems to be either unheard or untrue. What is interesting is that the Christian Bible, if read objectively, does not say that Christians might be holy, but rather that the Holy Spirit will effect a holy character in Christian believers.

We can make the following observation:
- If the Christian bible valid is true, then all Christians will become holy
- And all Christians do not become holy
- Therefore, the Christian bible is not valid and true

Conclusion? There is no more transformative power in Christianity than there is in any other socially constructed system. The changes in behavior of students here are formed by community rather than a transcendent Spirit that empowers its believers. In the same way that different cultures, regions, families and political traditions form certain beliefs, thoughts and behaviors, Christianity has the same effect.

- carriedthecross

Everyone who has ever attended a Sunday School class knows John 3:16, “For God so loved the world…” 1 Timothy 2 states that God wills for “everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” That is a nice thought, but does God’s track record as recorded by his own followers in the Bible match up to that idea?

The story of Israel is one that is at first glance very beautiful. God chose an unworthy people to be his. In the midst of their suffering, their sin and their imperfections, God chose them. God protected them. He led them out of bondage and into the Promised Land. In the eyes of a contemporary reader, it can be a profound analogue to their own lives: in spite of the readers infirmities and so-called rebellion against God, he chose them and knows their name.

But there is something about the narrative that has always bothered me. The writings of the Old Testament seem to glory in the unworthiness of the Israelites. Upon God choosing them, there doesn’t seem to be any qualifying criteria, they are in no way morally superior to any other people group. In fact, even after God works to save and protect them, they continue to rebel and God continues to reinforce them. That’s great, really, that God is so devoted to the Israelites. But what about the other people groups of the world?

Why would an all-powerful, all-loving God choose only one nation to love? Why did the God who chose the morally defect Israelites choose to reject the morally defect Canaanites? Why is it that the God who revealed himself to Moses chose not to reveal himself to all the nations? Israel was “blessed to be a blessing.” Nice thought. But why did God not simply reveal himself to all the nations? Was he unable? If so, he is impotent. Was he unwilling? If so, then he is cruel.

You see, these are not just abstract groups of people from thousands of years ago. In the Christian conception, those were individuals who had value endowed by their Creator, they were souls made to be in relationship with their God. And yet, seemingly arbitrarily God rejected them. God did not stop at embracing Israel. His love for Israel was not passive in relation to the other nations. God did not simply protect Israel from outside attack. When God embraced Israel, he actively rejected the surrounding nations. Yahweh did not protect Israel from Amalekite aggression, he commanded Israel to commit genocide against the Amalekite people.

So what explanation is there for this duality in God’s treatment of nations in the ancient world? I have heard it argued that the nations commanded destroyed by God were not innocent; that they were decadent cultures that God commanded destroyed for the protection of the world. But surely, the all-powerful, all-loving Yahweh, who radically transformed the Israelites could do the same for the Canaanites? Did he not want to encroach on their ‘free will’? He did with Israel. By divinely intervening in the affairs of Israel while in ‘bondage’ in Egypt, God radically altered their future. So why not do the same with the various nations that God eventually has his beloved people destroy?

If God is in the business of bringing men and women into right relationship with him, with the renewal of his creation, it seems bad strategy to do so through a rebellious, morally defect people. It seems to me that God is either a poor administrator or an arbitrary despot.

The narrative continues in much the same way. Even in times that Israel is punished through exile, God wields nations like the Babylonians as a weapon, using them for his will. In effect, God causes the Babylonians to cause harm to the Israelites, only to blame them for it later and to have them punished by the Israelites. Yahweh’s love for Israel seems to be the blinding affection of an adolescent crush. He will use and hurt anyone in his path to do what he wants for Israel.

Today, evangelical Christians are quick to criticize Mormons. Though there are many areas of Mormon theology that Christians find disconcerting, I would like to focus on the Mormon idea that after Jesus resurrected, he appeared to men and women in the Americas to reveal himself here. Christians scoff at this (obviously, Jesus didn’t appear to people in America, that’s absurd! But he did, of course, rise from the grave and appear as a resurrected ghost to his own followers in Israel, that’s reasonable). But why would Jesus not do so? If a Christian is to be fair to the text, without a “born again” experience, an individual will end up in hell upon their death. If so, why would God reveal the Good News to a small, obscure group of people in a small corner of the world and wait patiently for that Good News to be spread thousands of years later, meanwhile allowing countless individuals to wind up in hell?

It seems to me that if Jesus were truly concerned about the souls of mankind he would have appeared to the Native Americans, to the Chinese, to the Africans, to the Irish, etc. Yet he did not. Instead, God twiddled his thumbs for two thousand years, waiting for his followers to get around to settling the new world and bringing his Gospel through the sword to subdue Native Americans. In some places of the world, God is still waiting for his followers to stop entire cultures from ending up in their hellish destiny.

Yet this God loves all. The God who has the power to appear to the most decadent cultures in a burning bush, the God who once walked side by side with Adam but chooses not to do so with Muslims in Iran, seems incredibly content to allow the narrative of his love to spread incredibly slowly, and by default to condemn millions of souls to eternal damnation.

God’s love, my friends, is presented by his own holy text, as being incredibly arbitrary. If the Christian religion is true, I am deeply concerned by the nature of this God.

- CarriedTheCross