What does it mean to be an atheist?
If I am living in a predominantly Christian country, the statement "I am an atheist" seems to very likely equate to the statement "I do not believe in the Christian god", or perhaps, "I believe that the Christian god does not exist," largely because the only conception of god to which I may have been properly exposed (at least, to the level at which I feel comfortable rejecting it) is the Christian conception.
But, if I am living in a predominantly Hindu country, the same statement seems to equate to "I do not believe in the Hindu god(s)," or, "I believe that the Hindu god(s) do not exist," for much the same reason.
To generalize: for atheist thinker T exposed to a set of n religions R: {R1, R2, ..., Rn}, to the degree of being comfortable rejecting them, T's statement "I am an atheist" actually equates to proposition A1: "I believe that god, as defined in any member of R, does not exist" (the former reading, "I do not believe in..." is treated below).
If this reading is true, the atheist claim A1 is merely a specialized form of agnosticism, which identifies the negative aspects of (a possible-existing) god: it leaves open the possibility of belief in "god, as not defined in any member of R." In fact, A1 is a stronger claim about the nature and character of god (as Maimonides might point out) than an agnostic view wants to admit: in labelling (possibly-existing) god with negative characteristics (eg., "if god exists, he is nothing like such-and-such a religion's conception of god"), such an atheist runs the risk of ascribing characteristics (albeit negative) to god, and thus subconsciously accepting a certain definition of god (if he exists), opposed to the agnostic claim that god (who may or may not exist) is unknowable and indefinable in character and attributes (both positive and negative).
But my intuition on this may be off, and perhaps the claim "I am an atheist" is actually the claim A2: "Any god, conceivable or inconceivable to me, conceived or not conceived by me, does not exist." However, there are still problems with this statement: primarily, it seems unreasonably difficult to support a proposition regarding an entity that is explicitly inconceived by the speaker (because of limits either anthropological or epistemological in nature). Perhaps what is actually being claimed is A3: the denial of the possibility of knowledge of or belief in that entity described in A2. But in asserting A3, we find ourselves back at agnosticism, for this is not actually a claim regarding god, but rather a claim regarding the limits of our own knowledge. Moreover, it is a claim which seems unintuitive, and not actually the natural interpretation of the self-descriptive statement in question.
All three interpretations of the atheist statement seem problematic: A1 and A3 reduce atheism to a special (and even perhaps weakened) form of agnosticism. A2 differentiates itself from the agnostic claim, but does so by making a claim that seems both unsupported and irrationally accepted.
Boris responds:
"...[1] In short, you really should seek an analogy between the atheistic/God claims and Higgs boson/AIDS vaccine. Perhaps a better example is a "negative" or "nonexistence" claim, like the late 19th/early 20th century claim "the ether does not exist".
Or for another example, "God does not exist" should be similar to "a (living) jackalope does not exist on Earth".
[2] And, of course, if your argument is correct, what is wrong with atheism being a special sort of agnosticism?..."
I respond:
(1) I agree that the nonexistence claim A2 is the strongest reading of the statement but, at the same time, it's also the most difficult claim to stake. You're right that I should explore further the analogy between god and a Higgs boson, etc.
And one of the things that I find when exploring the analogy between "a god" and "the ether" is that, no, i'm actually uncomfortable in staking the claim that "the ether in no way exists: whether in a way conceivable or not, conceived or not," simply because I'm not that confident in the ability of the human mind to rule out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the existence of many things. I realize that this may cause problems with the positive assertions of theism (and thus I may be actually indirectly advocating agnosticism, through rendering both atheism and theism rationally undesirable), but I think that those problems (a) exist anyways, and so I am merely noting, not promoting, them, and (b) can be answered on the part of theism (in short: that theism is, in its best form, a "relation of the finite to the infinite" and thus defiant of rationality).
I find a fundamental difference between a jackalope (living or dead) and god (existing or not) being that the actual existence of the jackalope compels absolutely no reaction on my part, whereas the actual existence of a god may very possibly necessitate some sort of reaction on my part. To be more specific: The existence of jackalopes, Higgs bosons, or AIDS vaccines, are propositions of actual existence (PE with general form "entity X actually exists/has existed/will exist in the real world," and its negation). (This is undeniably loose categorization, and it would be good for me to rigorously categorize PE, because actually there are several propositional types that fall under PE, differentiated according to temporal and metaphysical status: "Jackalopes have never existed," "Higgs bosons cannot exist," "An AIDS vaccine will never exist").
There is strong evidence to believe, however, that the existence of god entails not only claims of the sort that fall under PE, but also metaphysical and moral propositions. I think that the analogy is at least as properly drawn between "God exists" and "Murder is morally wrong," as between "God exists" and "The United Kingdom exists," and possibly even more properly.
(2) I don't think there's anything wrong, per se, in atheism being agnosticism: but that doesn't make it a meaningless statement. Rather, what makes it an interesting claim, is that people are identifying themselves, or others, as believing in atheism, and that has certain ramifications. Rather than this, I'd prefer we "call them like we see them".
Just because "Judaism actually turns out to be equivalent to Zoroastrianism" isn't necessarily bad for Judaism or for Zoroastrianism doesn't mean it's meaningless to state and support that claim: it may affect those claiming to be Jews, when they understand the reality of their assertions. Someone may be completely comfortable with Judaism, as he conceives of it, but strongly averse to Zoroastrianism (and rightly so): the realization that asserting the tenets of Judaism entails some degree of acceptance of Zoroastrianism may lead him away from Judaism. Likewise, if someone is thinking to herself "I am an atheist!", and thinks that she can, as a result of this, prima facie rule out any notion or concept of God as obtaining, the realization that the proposition she asserts by claiming "I am an atheist" does not actually grant her the right to claim "and therefore the existence of God is false," might lead theoretically to a shift in her metaphysics and, pragmatically, make her receptive (and here's where I put on my normative-Christian-belief hat) to her experiencing God in a way that defies both explanation and doubt (but might be rejected under the assumptions of her atheism).
Monday, April 14, 2008
[Xanga] Re: Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
Submitted to the Wilmington, Delaware News Journal November 24, 2006.
I write regarding Jim and Sheila Batty's November 19th letter opposing Catholic indictments of homosexuality, specifically attacking their characterization of the stance against homosexuality as a "disorder."
The diction of the Battys' letter reveals two systematic errors: that condemning homosexuality damns their son "just for being who he is, and that the Church's charge is "bring[ing] people back to the faith."
The Battys implicitly view their son as homosexual, not as a person with homosexual desires. The church does not indict him: Scriptural condemnation is of sin, not of persons. The Battys forget that "loving the sinner" does not imply "loving the sin."
The Church condemns homosexuality not to save the unbeliever, but to present Biblical doctrine (e.g., Romans 1:26). The goal of such proclamations is not disenfranchisement, but dissemination of Scripture. As Augustine of Hippo wrote, the church is "[charged] to feed [God's] sheep."
Saying "the church hierarchy is making judgments" implies that judgments fall outside clerical oversight. But what is the church other than a caretaker of statutes drawn from Scripture? To strip the indwelling Holy Spirit of its "judg[ing] the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12) enfeebles its work of creating "approved workmen" (2Tim. 2:15).
-Jason G.L. Chu; New Haven, CT.
Original letter reproduced below:
"Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
We are writing regarding the latest indictment of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community by the U.S. Conference Of Catholic Bishops and the Catholic Church. As Catholic parents of a gay son, it is difficult for us to believe that our church would turn our son away just for being who he is.
We do not consider our son to be disordered because of his sexual orientation. We find him to be a fine gentleman with a terrific job, a loving and kind individual. Apparently only heterosexual individuals are allowed to participate fully in their faith.
If there is any disorder, it is the stance of the Catholic Church. Discrimination should not be considered a Catholic family value. The Lord was inclusive, not exclusive.
By making these statements, the church hierarchy is making judgments. In the Catholic Church's efforts to bring people back to the faith, they are turning more away.
Jim and Sheila Batty, Wilmington"
Originally printed November 19, 2006, in the Wilminton, Delaware News Journal, online archive available.
I think there are other theological misunderstandings regarding condemnation, the nature of the church, and the nature of justice, that were contained in the original letter, but due to length constraints (200 words), I was unable to address them above.
I write regarding Jim and Sheila Batty's November 19th letter opposing Catholic indictments of homosexuality, specifically attacking their characterization of the stance against homosexuality as a "disorder."
The diction of the Battys' letter reveals two systematic errors: that condemning homosexuality damns their son "just for being who he is, and that the Church's charge is "bring[ing] people back to the faith."
The Battys implicitly view their son as homosexual, not as a person with homosexual desires. The church does not indict him: Scriptural condemnation is of sin, not of persons. The Battys forget that "loving the sinner" does not imply "loving the sin."
The Church condemns homosexuality not to save the unbeliever, but to present Biblical doctrine (e.g., Romans 1:26). The goal of such proclamations is not disenfranchisement, but dissemination of Scripture. As Augustine of Hippo wrote, the church is "[charged] to feed [God's] sheep."
Saying "the church hierarchy is making judgments" implies that judgments fall outside clerical oversight. But what is the church other than a caretaker of statutes drawn from Scripture? To strip the indwelling Holy Spirit of its "judg[ing] the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12) enfeebles its work of creating "approved workmen" (2Tim. 2:15).
-Jason G.L. Chu; New Haven, CT.
Original letter reproduced below:
"Catholic Church turns away fine people who are gay
We are writing regarding the latest indictment of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community by the U.S. Conference Of Catholic Bishops and the Catholic Church. As Catholic parents of a gay son, it is difficult for us to believe that our church would turn our son away just for being who he is.
We do not consider our son to be disordered because of his sexual orientation. We find him to be a fine gentleman with a terrific job, a loving and kind individual. Apparently only heterosexual individuals are allowed to participate fully in their faith.
If there is any disorder, it is the stance of the Catholic Church. Discrimination should not be considered a Catholic family value. The Lord was inclusive, not exclusive.
By making these statements, the church hierarchy is making judgments. In the Catholic Church's efforts to bring people back to the faith, they are turning more away.
Jim and Sheila Batty, Wilmington"
Originally printed November 19, 2006, in the Wilminton, Delaware News Journal, online archive available.
I think there are other theological misunderstandings regarding condemnation, the nature of the church, and the nature of justice, that were contained in the original letter, but due to length constraints (200 words), I was unable to address them above.
[Xanga] A true fast
I was just reading through Isaiah 58, and some interesting points about fasting, and sacrifice in general, really seemed to indict me.
This whole chapter is centred about God rebuking the people of Israel for not fasting with the right heart of repentance. The people of Israel "day after day" seek for God and "seem eager for God to come near them."
The Israelites seem to think that these observances and this heart of worship is what God desires; but, apparently, God doesn't think so. Verse 3 is Israel's lament to the Lord, saying that they have fasted - "we humbled ourselves... on the day of your fasting" - but yet God "do[es] as you please and exploit[s] all your workers".
In Verse 4, God responds that they have fundamentally misunderstood what it is to fast; he elucidates their mistaken conception in verse 5: they have been approaching a day of fasting as "only a day for a man to humble himself... only for bowing one's head... for lying on sackcloth".
This stands in stark contrast with verses 6 and 7, where God defines the sort of fasting he has chosen: "loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free... share your food with the hungry... when you see the naked, clothe him."
All of this brings to mind Hosea 6:6, where the prophet says "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." The sacrifice of our lives which we offer up to God is not sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice, but sacrifice for the sake of demonstrating Christ's mercy to us ("in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us"). Offering up our lives is a fundamental part of sacrifice, but it is not, in itself, Sacrifice: for us to wholly lay down our lives, we must not only lay them down, but pick them up again and do the work of the Lord with what he has given us. Paul does not just say that "I no longer live"; no, rather, "Christ lives within me," and it is this that transforms him into a "living, holy and pleasing sacrifice" (Rom. 12:1). Anything less is a waste, falling far short of "a day acceptable to the LORD" (Is. 58:5).
Am I truly sacrificing my life, or merely squandering it in false humility and half-hearted repentance?
This whole chapter is centred about God rebuking the people of Israel for not fasting with the right heart of repentance. The people of Israel "day after day" seek for God and "seem eager for God to come near them."
The Israelites seem to think that these observances and this heart of worship is what God desires; but, apparently, God doesn't think so. Verse 3 is Israel's lament to the Lord, saying that they have fasted - "we humbled ourselves... on the day of your fasting" - but yet God "do[es] as you please and exploit[s] all your workers".
In Verse 4, God responds that they have fundamentally misunderstood what it is to fast; he elucidates their mistaken conception in verse 5: they have been approaching a day of fasting as "only a day for a man to humble himself... only for bowing one's head... for lying on sackcloth".
This stands in stark contrast with verses 6 and 7, where God defines the sort of fasting he has chosen: "loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free... share your food with the hungry... when you see the naked, clothe him."
All of this brings to mind Hosea 6:6, where the prophet says "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." The sacrifice of our lives which we offer up to God is not sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice, but sacrifice for the sake of demonstrating Christ's mercy to us ("in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us"). Offering up our lives is a fundamental part of sacrifice, but it is not, in itself, Sacrifice: for us to wholly lay down our lives, we must not only lay them down, but pick them up again and do the work of the Lord with what he has given us. Paul does not just say that "I no longer live"; no, rather, "Christ lives within me," and it is this that transforms him into a "living, holy and pleasing sacrifice" (Rom. 12:1). Anything less is a waste, falling far short of "a day acceptable to the LORD" (Is. 58:5).
Am I truly sacrificing my life, or merely squandering it in false humility and half-hearted repentance?
[Xanga] the best 8 bars ever
I feel as though these eight lines from In Christ Alone are perhaps the eight lines that best describe the fullness of seemingly contradictory emotion that I see in the loving, just, and perfect God of Christianity:
This entire hymn, written in 2002 by two English songwriters, is one of great (and rare) theological and emotional depth, but, most importantly, it is fully centred on and supporting of the titular phrase. Often when we sing this song in church - or I'm contemplating it alone, silently or otherwise - I'm actually moved to tears by the idea of Christianity - of the Gospel itself - not being a revelation of literary or religious doctrine, but being a person.
What amazes me when contemplating these lines is that "This gift of love and righteousness" is not a state of mind or a way of being, but rather a sacrificial atonement of God by God for God. This fantastic non sequitur (by which I mean, the idea of God himself being our gift is unprecedented and seemingly unwarranted from previous religious tradition) is so unbelievable - that God would not only be the agent for redemption of sins, but moreover be himself the vehicle of this atonement.
These eight lines seem to me to encapsulate the whole of the emotional story of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, who was with God, and who was God." " though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form". He was "the way, the truth, and the life," but "he was despised, and we took no account of Him." Until, on the cross, he was able to say, "It is finished," so that "the wrath of God was poured out on him; and by his stripes we were saved."
I think it might have been William James, the 19th-century philosopher and psychologist, who wrote that the mystical experience might be something strongly akin to a musical euphoria, a transcendent feeling of the Other. If that is the case - and I feel strongly that the statement may be true, at least in part - then I'd offer up this song as a great example of such a case.
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
il on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
il on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
This entire hymn, written in 2002 by two English songwriters, is one of great (and rare) theological and emotional depth, but, most importantly, it is fully centred on and supporting of the titular phrase. Often when we sing this song in church - or I'm contemplating it alone, silently or otherwise - I'm actually moved to tears by the idea of Christianity - of the Gospel itself - not being a revelation of literary or religious doctrine, but being a person.
What amazes me when contemplating these lines is that "This gift of love and righteousness" is not a state of mind or a way of being, but rather a sacrificial atonement of God by God for God. This fantastic non sequitur (by which I mean, the idea of God himself being our gift is unprecedented and seemingly unwarranted from previous religious tradition) is so unbelievable - that God would not only be the agent for redemption of sins, but moreover be himself the vehicle of this atonement.
These eight lines seem to me to encapsulate the whole of the emotional story of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, who was with God, and who was God." " though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form". He was "the way, the truth, and the life," but "he was despised, and we took no account of Him." Until, on the cross, he was able to say, "It is finished," so that "the wrath of God was poured out on him; and by his stripes we were saved."
I think it might have been William James, the 19th-century philosopher and psychologist, who wrote that the mystical experience might be something strongly akin to a musical euphoria, a transcendent feeling of the Other. If that is the case - and I feel strongly that the statement may be true, at least in part - then I'd offer up this song as a great example of such a case.
[Xanga] thoughts
Abstract: My intent here is to argue apologetically that the charge of
Christianity being an intolerant religion, even if true (which I gladly
admit to being plausible, if not even perhaps probable, under a
specific definition of ''intolerant'' not to be here strictly
discussed), fails to raise a strong objection to the Christian religion
in itself. The reason for this is that it fails to take into account
both (a) differing definitions of of intolerance and (b) differing
foundational metaphysical beliefs.
Christianity being an intolerant religion, even if true (which I gladly
admit to being plausible, if not even perhaps probable, under a
specific definition of ''intolerant'' not to be here strictly
discussed), fails to raise a strong objection to the Christian religion
in itself. The reason for this is that it fails to take into account
both (a) differing definitions of of intolerance and (b) differing
foundational metaphysical beliefs.
This is going to be vague. I apologize in advance.
I don't understand why people seem to have an issue with certain ramifications of holding a Christian worldview; specifically, the charge that it is an "intolerant" religion. Well, that's not true. I think I understand why. But I disagree that it's a strongly justified objection to the orthodox Christian religion.
The arguments against intolerance (and for pluralism or inclusivism) seem, on the whole, to be drawn at heart from a moral valuation of actions and choices derived from a particular belief set. As such, they take certain tenets of a relativist worldview, most comonly that a choice implies the soundness of its outcomes; that fairness is equivalent to
equality and, moreover, to be desired very (if not most) highly; that an individual's identity is the sum of their life choices; and that morality is socially defined. To wit: I will admit that Christianity is intolerant, inasmuch as I believe in a God who will not tolerate sin. I just think that the logical intermediary between "Christianity is intolerant" and "Christianity is not a valid theology" fails to compel assent.
Questions like "How can God damn men to hell for making a choice [to sin] that he presented them with in the first place?" (the same question is also phrased as "So, just because I made choice X, God is going to send me to hell?") seem to take as a noninferential premise that we are to be treated equally (not to mention, some particular misunderstandings of Christian doctrine). That is, if God was really good or loving or fair, he would grant unqualified mercy to unlimited people. At the very least, this question takes as noninferential premises properly basic beliefs that support this premise, beliefs which, I would argue, are not, in their totality, in the set of foundational beliefs which I, and a majority of other Christians, do not subscribe to. [I'm not too happy about this example of an polemically atheological question. I just can't think of a better one right now.]
The fact that the crucial distinction lies in two disjoint sets of properly basic (and therefore either irrefutable or very difficult to refute) beliefs implies that, while the Christian (or, generally, theistic) interlocutor may not provide satisfying answers to the polemicist, this is not due to her theology lacking empirical or rational completeness. Rather, it proceeds from an intuitive disagreement; and while intuition is obviously widely-held (outside of skeptical circles) to be a good guide towards tracking the truth, it is certainly not reliable all, or even most, of the time. As such, it bears strong consideration that, when questions are raised akin to those presented in form and specifics above, the issue is likely not one which may be argued out rationally, but instead one which proceeds from prima facie beliefs. The discussion must then turn to the warranted apprehension and dismissal of such first premises. One thing is clear: using logical (as opposed to pragmatic or empirical, and not as opposed to illogical) arguments, once this point of contention has been reached, is at best frustrating.
Or am I raising up a straw man? Does the atheologian have a more compelling argument for holding his properly basic beliefs than I do?
Addendum I: The argument for intolerance.
Abstract: Not only does the charge that Christianity is intolerant fail
to compel disbelief in the propositions of the Christian religion, but
I go on to argue that every coherent belief set requires intolerance (a
definition of which I lay out, but fail to justify beyond its intuitive
reasonability) as a foundational belief. Therefore, I claim, any
attempt to malign a belief set because of its supposed intolerance is
actually a fatal misconception of both intolerance as well as one's own
belief set.
to compel disbelief in the propositions of the Christian religion, but
I go on to argue that every coherent belief set requires intolerance (a
definition of which I lay out, but fail to justify beyond its intuitive
reasonability) as a foundational belief. Therefore, I claim, any
attempt to malign a belief set because of its supposed intolerance is
actually a fatal misconception of both intolerance as well as one's own
belief set.
Above and beyond what I argue above, I would moreover like to sketch out a defense of the following:
Every set of beliefs is intolerant.
The outline of the argument is as follows:
(1) Every set of beliefs contains propositions which are subscribed to as true.
(2) An intolerant belief set may be defined as "not accepting as internally tenable non-empty belief set [x]"
(3) It is incoherent for a belief set to accept as true a proposition which is the negation of a proposition contained within the belief set.
(C) Therefore, every set of beliefs [b] is intolerant to a second belief set [btwo], [btwo] being the set of beliefs [~b1, ~b2,...,~bn].
(Note that this is an overly rigorous (C). It is sufficient to prove that [b] is intolerant to any belief ~bm, m < n+1).
(1) Every set of beliefs contains propositions which are subscribed to as true.
(2) An intolerant belief set may be defined as "not accepting as internally tenable non-empty belief set [x]"
(3) It is incoherent for a belief set to accept as true a proposition which is the negation of a proposition contained within the belief set.
(C) Therefore, every set of beliefs [b] is intolerant to a second belief set [btwo], [btwo] being the set of beliefs [~b1, ~b2,...,~bn].
(Note that this is an overly rigorous (C). It is sufficient to prove that [b] is intolerant to any belief ~bm, m < n+1).
The strongest objection to this argument lies in the belief that there may exist propositions of a class who admit their negation; phrased in another way, the natural line of argument in opposition to mine is that there exist belief sets [c] who admit belief in contradictory propositions (an example of this is some construals of Buddhism, wherein seeming
opposites are embraced as koans or paths toward Enlightenment).
Such a vaguely-held belief set would accept the plausibility of [b1] and [~b1], but merely withhold judgment as to which obtains, or claim somehow that the inconsistency between [b1] and [~b1] is due to our ignorance. Such belief sets of vaguely-held beliefs (formulations of religious pluralism among them) are, however, intolerant towards at least one proposition: [~c1], belief in [b1] and belief in [~b1] is not compossible ([c1] being, of course, the foundational set belief that belief in both [b1] and [~b1] is possible).
The choice between a "tolerant" and "intolerant" belief set is thus fatally misconstrued by those arguing against Christianity, theism, or even, in general, "intolerant" belief sets. They would claim that their belief sets apprehend some intuitively praiseworthy concept of tolerance, whereas my belief set is fundamentally flawed because it
lacks this tolerance. What they fail to comprehend is that they are equally intolerant (in the sense of failing to admit belief in x) as I, merely towards a different class of proposition. Instead of being intolerant towards moral propositions or formulations of moral (or metaphysical) fact, they are intolerant towards propositions regarding the tenability of certain belief sets.
Now, it is very possible that my sort of intolerance has some intrinsically discrediting flaw, whereas their sort is either praiseworthy or neutral. Regardless, saying that "am tolerant; you are intolerant" is a radically different claim than "we are both intolerant, but my form of intolerance is better than yours.
In the words of Shawn Carter, "just my thoughts, ladies and gentlemen/ Just what I'm feelin at the time, you know what I mean?"[Xanga] Irresistible Grace
Regarding the concept of so-called Irresistible Grace:
"this act of drawing is an act of power, yet not of force; God in drawing of unwilling, makes willing in the day of his power: he enlightens the understanding, bends the will, gives an heart of flesh, sweetly allures by the power of his grace, and engages the soul to come to Christ, and give up itself to him; he draws with the bands of love. Drawing, though it supposes power and influence, yet not always coaction and force: music draws the ear, love the heart, and pleasure the mind. [emphases my own]"
-Gill's Exposition of the Bible, John 6:44
"this act of drawing is an act of power, yet not of force; God in drawing of unwilling, makes willing in the day of his power: he enlightens the understanding, bends the will, gives an heart of flesh, sweetly allures by the power of his grace, and engages the soul to come to Christ, and give up itself to him; he draws with the bands of love. Drawing, though it supposes power and influence, yet not always coaction and force: music draws the ear, love the heart, and pleasure the mind. [emphases my own]"
-Gill's Exposition of the Bible, John 6:44
[Xanga] the validity of postmodern influences on the interpretation of the Bible?
Postmodernism is a movement that is at once, depending on the individual with whom you're discussing it, ill-defined, vitally crucial to intellectual endeavours, a complete crock of nonsense, or the most revolutionary (and true, whatever that means) paradigm to come along in the history of human knowledge (again, whatever that means). Regardless of one's stance on the postmodern worldview, however, one is hard-pressed to not at least admit that it has strongly influenced post-Enlightenment readings and conceptions of truth.
My question is whether the postmodern hypothesis, construed by me to in general be such: "the meaning of any text is solely a matter of cultural and social interpretation," (and I readily admit that this may be a straw man, and that postmodernism in its true form would hold to something other than this tenet; though I would defend this statement as one which is strongly characteristic of a postmodern worldview) has any bearing (or what bearing it has, if any) on the interpretation of the Bible by a Christian; the latter designation I take to mean "one who believes in the existence of God as a trinitarian entity, and moreover in the doctrines of divine creation, incarnation, atonement, intercession of the Holy Spirit, and special as well as general (including Biblical) revelation." (generally, one who accepts in full the Nicene Creed, though I find it plausible, if improbable, that one would reject in part the Nicene Creed but still fall under the ability to receive the intercession of the Paraclete [Holy Spirit, or Holy Ghost] in the revelation of Scripture)
As a caveat preceding the following, I note that my line of thought follows the presumptions that I stated above under the designation of a Christian. The validity of these assumptions (both in their use to define Christian as well as their truth value) may be called into question, but for now I beg the use of these.
The basic question at hand is to what degree I may lend credence to the version of the Bible that I own, that now sits on my desktop. I see two general categories into which a Christian, in good faith, may place his or her belief regarding the veracity of that Bible: first, that it is in whole and in part the work of God, from the first writing divinely inspired and subsequently divinely translated, with every word yet extant and meaning what it did when it first "proceeded from the mouth of God". Second, that it is a human translation of a divine text, whose original language was and yet is divinely ordained, but the translations of which contain human error and bias; the latter which may yet be of value, but require great thought in order to "rightly divide the word of truth" and thereby arrive at the original meaning of the text from a corruption, as applying a Photoshop filter to sharpen a blurry or corrupted image file (On a side note, I take this second stance to be that of many Muslims, who find it necessary to study Arabic in order that their examinations of the Qu'ran be examinations of the direct words of Allah, not born of any intermediary). (Note that I ask here not whether or not the Bible is the extent of God's revelation to man, but where the extent of the Bible's authority falls: divine revelation or human translation. This question limits its scope to the Bible; another, equally [if not more] crucial issue, is whether or not the scope of divine literary revelation is likewise limited, an issue of great importance to Muslims, Mormons, and certain other religions. Regardless of the Bible's current translation as either a human or divine work, one may hold that it is or is not the whole extent of literary revelation, though I tend to believe that the most reasonable reading of the Bible in my native tongue is a claim to exclusivity among literature.)
These overly bold statement - that one's belief may only fall into one of these two categories - immediately begs the question, as to whether or not one may hold another. Is there a middle ground, or a third point of view?
(work in progress)
My question is whether the postmodern hypothesis, construed by me to in general be such: "the meaning of any text is solely a matter of cultural and social interpretation," (and I readily admit that this may be a straw man, and that postmodernism in its true form would hold to something other than this tenet; though I would defend this statement as one which is strongly characteristic of a postmodern worldview) has any bearing (or what bearing it has, if any) on the interpretation of the Bible by a Christian; the latter designation I take to mean "one who believes in the existence of God as a trinitarian entity, and moreover in the doctrines of divine creation, incarnation, atonement, intercession of the Holy Spirit, and special as well as general (including Biblical) revelation." (generally, one who accepts in full the Nicene Creed, though I find it plausible, if improbable, that one would reject in part the Nicene Creed but still fall under the ability to receive the intercession of the Paraclete [Holy Spirit, or Holy Ghost] in the revelation of Scripture)
As a caveat preceding the following, I note that my line of thought follows the presumptions that I stated above under the designation of a Christian. The validity of these assumptions (both in their use to define Christian as well as their truth value) may be called into question, but for now I beg the use of these.
The basic question at hand is to what degree I may lend credence to the version of the Bible that I own, that now sits on my desktop. I see two general categories into which a Christian, in good faith, may place his or her belief regarding the veracity of that Bible: first, that it is in whole and in part the work of God, from the first writing divinely inspired and subsequently divinely translated, with every word yet extant and meaning what it did when it first "proceeded from the mouth of God". Second, that it is a human translation of a divine text, whose original language was and yet is divinely ordained, but the translations of which contain human error and bias; the latter which may yet be of value, but require great thought in order to "rightly divide the word of truth" and thereby arrive at the original meaning of the text from a corruption, as applying a Photoshop filter to sharpen a blurry or corrupted image file (On a side note, I take this second stance to be that of many Muslims, who find it necessary to study Arabic in order that their examinations of the Qu'ran be examinations of the direct words of Allah, not born of any intermediary). (Note that I ask here not whether or not the Bible is the extent of God's revelation to man, but where the extent of the Bible's authority falls: divine revelation or human translation. This question limits its scope to the Bible; another, equally [if not more] crucial issue, is whether or not the scope of divine literary revelation is likewise limited, an issue of great importance to Muslims, Mormons, and certain other religions. Regardless of the Bible's current translation as either a human or divine work, one may hold that it is or is not the whole extent of literary revelation, though I tend to believe that the most reasonable reading of the Bible in my native tongue is a claim to exclusivity among literature.)
These overly bold statement - that one's belief may only fall into one of these two categories - immediately begs the question, as to whether or not one may hold another. Is there a middle ground, or a third point of view?
(work in progress)
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