Time Immortal

Count Roland writes in with a comment on…this article, I think. It is, as he himself notes, mostly tongue in cheek.

But, O Writer, are you not a patriarchal Christian who follows the misogynist St. Paul’s God given ordinance to demand your wife be your servant as if you were the Lord?* It says it plain as day right there in Ephesians 5:23. Oh, I remember too that the righteous man Lot offered his daughters for rape instead of his male guests. And isn’t this husband, by listening to and helping his wife contravening Paul’s admonition that women are to be silent and listen to their husbands instruction? As a Catholic, how do you work with these texts and the matriarchal reprisals of secular culture? I can’t seem to think of a third way, can you?

One observes in the case of Lot that the angels of God — probably in response to Lot’s unjust action — quickly intervened to ensure that the whole family escaped unscathed. God corrects for when men — even righteous men — go astray, as all men do.

One piece of Scripture that I’ve seen a couple Catholic bloggers mention in response to this article is Proverbs 31:

An excellent wife who can find?

She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life.

She seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands. She is like the ships of the merchant; she brings her food from afar. She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household and portions for her maidens. She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard. She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong. She perceives that her merchandise is profitable. Her lamp does not go out at night.

She puts her hands to the distaff, and her hands hold the spindle. She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet.

She makes bed coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple. Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant.

Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.

And indeed, my own thoughts in response to Ephesians is to admonish the person citing just 5:23 for being a narrow-minded fool with no ability to quote Scripture in its proper context. For indeed, if one reads past Ephesians 5:23, one quickly encounters St. Paul’s instructions for men. And indeed, if one considers the cultural context in which Paul was writing, the instructions to men are the more radical. It is not exactly new or novel to suggest to wives in a patriarchal society (such as the society of the Ephesians to whom Paul was writing) that women should be obedient to their husbands. It’s a very novel — indeed, radical — thing to suggest to men in that same society that they must love, in the most absolute and powerful sense, their wives.

And of course, if one reads a little further, Paul gives away the game by admitting that he is merely drawing on the cultural context of the Ephesians in an attempt to give an example of the relationship between Christ and the Church. Although he does end thusly: “however, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.”

How remarkably sexist!

(Actually, in the spirit of keeping one’s tongue firmly in one’s cheek, it would probably be taken as an intensely sexist suggestion if one were to say to the husband-bashing MSNBC columnist that she should respect the husband she has just finished trashing in print.)

As to whether there’s a “third way” about it, I do not know. Mind you, I suppose the question has to be asked: has the Christian way ever really been tried, honestly and in full alignment with the teachings of Christ and His apostles? Methinks the answer may be a resounding “no!”

But why does society seem so binary? science or Religion. Matriarchy or Patriarchy. Conservative or Liberal. Orthodox or Heretic (wait, there are some true binaries…)

Other than the obvious ease of such thinking. I think it is because we have lost the ‘and more’ that faith brings to the union of faith and reason. Reason is ultimately based in logic which, in general, has two truth conditions: T and F. There are logics with more than two truth conditions, but they are out of the experience of all but logicians. positivism reduces reality to the observable and the unobservable, but it tends not to remember that there are things which can be observed which just not have yet been observed and, more importantly, forgotten that the five senses, even with aids, are not necessarily the only modes of touching reality. Hubris, you have called something like this before.

Quite. And indeed, it is hubris.

A binary worldview has its uses, of course — Roland points to the distinction between orthodoxy and heresy, which is certainly binary. Equally, the distinction between right and wrong is, if we are honest, usually “cut and dried.” That does not mean that it is always easy to sort out the heretical from the orthodox, or the wrong from the right…but just because the way is difficult does not mean that there is really only one destination we should end up at if we strive to follow Christ.

*Of course I am facetious in this paragrapch and slightly in the next, but this seems to be a ‘teachable moment’ in which the proper use of Scripture as well as the beauty of recent Papal teaching on the subject of marriage can be explored.

Roland adds this to his email. I hope, to the good Reader, that the disclaimer on his part was not necessary.

Nicholas writes in with a response to…well, to what I assume is this article.

It is an interesting discourse, to be sure.

I agree with you that atheism is a philosophical position that cannot be proved beyond all possible doubt. But it can be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that all the gods so far postulated do not measure up to any reasonable standard of what a god should offer. Almost all of humankind has accordingly rejected Thor and Zeus and Baal and countless others.

If people honestly read the Torah, they are bound to conclude that YHWH is a depressingly human fantasy of a depressingly human god, if anything a nastier tyrant than Stalin. And if they actually read the gospels, they will note that Jesus’s recorded remarks do not contain anything that marks him out as decisively superior to other prophets, or to previous philosophers. (For example, in the Crito dialogue, Plato attributes to Socrates the stance that we should not return evil for evil.)

I’m going to interject at this point, simply because what follows is a shift of topic. Formulating a coherent response is not something I’ll struggle with either way, but it occurs to me that it will be easier for the good Reader if I respond to each charge at the moment it is made, rather than in a large final summation.

First, I observe that with what could be called depressing truth to form, Nicholas assertion that “all the gods so far postulated do not measure up to any reasonable standard of what a god should offer” is not followed up with arguments from evidence or reason in support of it. It may well be that no deity postulated until this point in history satisfies even a reasonable standard of what a god should offer, but Nicholas in no way details any examples of any supposed inadequecies of any particular deity.

Of course, the whole issue of a “reasonable standard” seems laughable to me — precisely what would constitute a reasonable standard for a deity to uphold? Who defines what that standard should be? Indeed, where in the human-deity hierarchy does humanity fall relative to God? Are we even in a position to demand that God conform his actions to what our definition of a “resonable standard” is? It smacks of hubris, and one cannot help but conjure in mind the image of a loinclothed man armed only with a spear criticizing as “destructively inadequate” the quantum torpedos of the USS Enterprise (NCC 1701-E).

It only follows that humanity is in any position to hold God to a “reasonable standard” if, in fact, humanity is “above” or “equal to” God. Of course, if humanity is “above” or “equal to” God, then humanity likewise has no need of God, but that’s beside the point. If, in fact, God is “above” humanity, however, then humanity is in no position to demand God behave according to any human standard since, by definition, the human standard is the inadequate one, and the ways of God superior to it. That’s not to say that we can’t complain, but if we do complain it must be understood that we will be doing so with all the reason and rationalism of a six-year old denied the right to begin watching a fourth hour of television by its parents.

Fundamentally, when I read Nicholas‘ statements above, I am left with the impression that Nicholas is bitter and/or upset with religion in general — his statement equating the Judeo-Christian God with Stalin certainly points to this. Likewise, his dismissal of Jesus’ teachings as nothing new illustrates, I think, a conscious desire to reject something about Christianity. Not that this comes as a surprise, of course. Atheism tends, as a rule, to adopt as its own the prevailing morality of the culture in which the atheist(s) in question reside, minus whatever proscribed activity the atheist(s) desire(s) to engage in (which usually is something to do with sex). I’ve heard all manner of arguments in this direction, from the sort that bemoan the fact that 25-year-old virgins still exist (Hans Machel) to those which argue that marital fidelity is a biological inclination that we need to rise above (Richard Dawkins).

Yes, others may have articulated similar sentiments to those that Christ spoke of, and perhaps that should be clue for us that some truths are universal. But equally, just because truths were articulated by other philosophers independently of Jesus does not mean that the teachings themselves were fully understood (if at all understood) apart from Christ.

Regarding the explicit statement that Plato attributed something akin to the Golden Rule to Socrates well in advance of Jesus’ life and death, I and others have observed that “[t]his is another sample of Thomas’ second objection at work. It boils down to saying the natural law is knowable to all, so we don’t need to believe that the natural law comes from God. The sleight of hand comes in when “God” is confused with “Religion“. So the atheist routinely speaks as though Christians believe that nobody had ever heard that murder or theft or adulter were bad until Moses “revealed” this and imagines it a great coup to announce that, in fact, people have always known such things are wrong. Apparently, the people who say these things have never read the story of Cain and Abel. If they had, they would know that this was no news flash to ancient Israel. Nor was it a news flash to Paul, whose entire arraignment of the pagans in Romans 1 makes it clear that the natural law is knowable by everybody and that the failure of the pagans (who never heard of the Ten Commandments) to obey the natural law was blameworthy. In fact, no educated believer says the Ten Commandments revealed the natural law. Rather, the point of the Ten Commandments is that they make clear to Israel who is the author of the natural law which humanity has known for time immemorial. It makes clear that the natural law is not a mere artifact of wind and weather which can be ignored when it inconveniences us, but an iron fact of our being put there by the author of our being.

Being ignorant of this elementary fact makes the author ignorant of another elementary fact, that Jesus’s Golden Rule was, in fact, often *not* understood in even the most rudimentary of societies long before it was enunciated by Jesus. That’s because the Golden Rule requires grace in order to be understood, much less lived. Judaism articulated the basic norm that all pagan societies, at their best, could attain: love your neighbor, hate your enemy. It’s the norm we still basically live by today. Jesus’ Golden rule implied love for enemies because it included enemies in the term “neighbor”. It remains, apart from grace, an impossible and (for the worldly) ridiculous standard. The notion that anybody — especially an atheist — would aspire to it is a classic example of the way in which atheists live off Christian capital.”

I agree with you also, Ken, that we all believe many things that we cannot prove. For example, I believe that I have free will to make choices, and even to act on a whim. But I cannot disprove the assertion that an entity with a complete understanding of human psychology could forecast my every choice, including what I thought was a whim.

Gods with all of the attributes frequently claimed for gods, cannot exist. For example, if I am right that I have free will, there cannot be any omniscient god. If on the other hand I am wrong, there cannot be any just god, if it punishes my predictable mistakes.

This is a curious thing for Nicholas to believe, given his atheistic stance. For really, it is only by first invoking a sense of telos that humanity can postulate that it has a will, especially one that is free. Fundamentally, and from a purely empirical standpoint, a human being is just a fleshy outer shell wrapped around a bundle of opportunistic chemical reactions that are partly random and partly a response to outside stimuli. There is no free will in that — these words that I am typing right now are a testament to nothing more than a churning electrochemical reaction taking place within my brain, and series of signals being transmitted through my nervous system. Indeed, my very theism is nothing more than either an expression of something within my genes (and therefore meaningless, and certainly no indicator that I am possessed of a will of any sort) or the result of a response to either a chemical/hormonal reaction within my body or an external stimuli (and therefore, again, meaningless).

Another problem with atheists, I find, is that they tend to be more fundamentalist in their conception of who God must be than even the most rigid, fanatical fundamentalist theists are. Note the sudden transition to strict either/or thinking in Nicholas‘ writing, O Reader — this was a predictable shift on his part. Now, to be fair, historical theology has given him some ammunition to work with, in postulating on the omnipotence of God. But as others have pointed out, “omnipotence” is not the best word to describe the nature and scope of God’s knowledge and power. Better terms would be “volipotence” and “voliscience“.

“The concept of voliscience describes a Creator who knows whatever He wants, whenever He wants, to the extent that the concept of time is even relevant to such a being. Not only does this concept not limit God, but it has the additional benefit of being far more Biblically accurate than the traditional concept of an omniscient God. In fact, if one thinks about the matter for more than five seconds, one quickly realizes that the concept of voliscience is far less limiting than the use of the concept of omniscience has historically proven to be. One might also consider the concept of volipotence to be of some benefit in better conceiving a rationally sound and Scripturally precise nature of the Biblical God, but it’s probably less necessary since the key stumbling point for most Christians and atheists alike here is not related directly to omnipotence per se, but rather their inability to distinguish between the capacity of omnipotence and the action of omniderigence.

The fact that there is no possible logical conflict between voliscience and volipotence only adds to the rational appeal of the concept in my opinion, although I regard the nominal theodictic conflict between omnipotence and omniscience to reflect thinking so shallow as to border on stupidity anyhow.”

Famously, the life cycle of the Ichneumonidae, and much else, such as the facts that almost all life forms on this planet produce more (often hugely more) offspring than survive to maturity, and the doomed young often die in terror and pain, prove that there is no benign and omnipotent god.

Given that the Bible — especially the New Testament — is full of examples of ways in which suffering and death are shaped into pathways by which God’s glory is revealed, and given that some of Jesus’ teachings even go so far as to point out the role that death and dying play in God’s plan for His creation, the charge that any incidences of suffering and/or death in nature somehow disprove the idea of a benign god is specious and inconsequential…as has been discussed on this site a goodly number of times. Nicholas in particular would do well to remember that he’s been “thwumped” on this issue before on this very site.

These facts are consistent with the existence of any number of cruel gods, including C S Lewis’s “cosmic sadist”. They are also consistent with gods who have only limited powers and bungle important things. I am not atheist about such gods, but I choose (I think!) not to believe they exist, because there is no positive evidence for their existence.

I have long maintained, O Reader, that most strains of atheism are, at their core, built up around some manner of positivism, and certainly that has always been the case with Nicholas‘ atheism (as evidenced here). What is interesting is that he is willing to consider his personal opinions about the relative “cruelty” of the function of the natural world as evidence against the existence of the supernatural, and yet is unwilling to consider things like unexplained healings following in lockstep with prayers of intercession to the saints (Padre Pio in particular!) and other attested miracles as evidence in favour of the existence of the supernatural.

It’s not exactly a rational way of looking at the world, discarding the evidence one doesn’t like and improperly using as evidence that which is, on closer examination, not really evidence in support of one’s point at all. That things like predation, diseases, and often-lethal environmental pressures exist in the world tells us nothing about the intentions of any hypothetical creator; they merely tell us that within creation there are several extant hierarchies and concrete realities. Bigger animals and smaller animals exist, and some bigger animals eat some of the smaller ones. Different environmental forms exist, and sometimes environmental changes or events can have devastating results because — let’s be honest — any time there’s any sort of dynamism on a scale as large as the crust of a planet, there is bound to be the potential for a dramatic release of energy.

And to it all, we can honestly say: so what? Nature is designed by something way beyond human comprehension to begin with; should it be any kind of surprise, then, that we do not always understand the ways and means with which it operates?

You can call this sort of atheism a religion if you like, but it’s rather an eccentric use of the word. In the usual use, I think, religions always include elements of the supernatural, and of ritual. Even a stripped-down version of Buddhism includes mystical elements such as the denial of the self. And, as far as I know, all forms of modern Buddhism as actually practised include rituals. Tibetan lamaism includes all manner of weird spirits and deities.

This is mostly true, although it serves to note that many atheists — Sam Harris being perhaps one of the more prominent — draw upon Buddhism as an example of an “atheist” religion (Harris himself practices some “rituals” — including, but not limited to, meditation — of the Buddhist religion). And at any rate, certain forms of Taoism are almost completely free of supernatural concepts, unless one counts the concept of “peace” as supernatural.

As to whether the “denial of the self” can be counted as “mystical,” I leave up to the reader. Self-denial in various forms infuses many aspects of secular culture (dieting, for an easy example) without seeming to stray into the realm of mysticism, after all.

In contrast, I don’t admit to worshipping anything. I accept modus ponens because it works. I accept the evidence of randomised double-blind trials of drugs, because they have given us drugs which work. But I don’t sing hymns to modus ponens or the smallpox vaccine, or make them burnt offerings.

Employing a touch of Nicholas‘ logic in reverse, I observe that many drugs can and do produce all manner of rather horrifying side effects, including (in some cases) death. Clearly we can posit, then, non-benign (if not outright cruel) intent on the part of pharmaceutical researchers?

Yes, I’m being facetious.

Nicholas is correct in that he does not admit to worshipping anything, and indeed he probably does not ritualize even those things which he does worship. But my contention is that we all worship something — even sex or money — and this contention stands. When I posed a set of questions in the article I linked to at the beginning of this posting, Nicholas responded thusly:

1. What do I feel entitled to? The rights set out in the European Convention of Human Rights.
2. Why? Because this convention is largely common sense, and has been incorporated into the law of the country I live in.
3. Why am I so angry/sad/bitter? What makes you think I am any of these?
4. If I had to, how would I define happiness? Aristotelian eudaimonia, laced with Epicurean pleasure in hugs, snow, and music.

I observe a sense that the law, and in particular human rights legislation, is sacrosanct. After all, the first question asked what Nicholas felt entitled to, and the fact that he answered it as he did is instructive.

If we honestly think about it, we as human beings are entitled to nothing, whether God exists or not. This is especially true if we assume God does not exist, because at that point all we can claim to be entitled to is what we can hold on to until someone stronger, faster, or otherwise “bigger” comes to take it away from us. Appeals to common sense hold little sway in face of the “cruel” laws by which nature operates…and equally, not everyone recognizes things held to be commonly sensible.

But Nicholas feels entitled to these human rights all the same. At the same time, he has in the past argued that an entire category of human beings — the unborn — do not necessarily deserve the same comprehensive protection of their human rights. But for Nicholas, his being protected by those and other legal conventions is sacrosanct. It is his entitlement.

So I leave it here to the Reader: what, exactly, does Nicholas worship, even if not in a way that involves formal ritual?

From Sam Harris’ own pen, by way of Jonah Goldberg at The Corner:

Harris tells us, for example, that “we must find our way to a time when faith, without evidence, disgraces anyone who would claim it. Given the present state of the world, there appears to be no other future worth wanting.” I am glad that I am old enough that I shall not see the future of reason as laid down by Harris; but I am puzzled by the status of the compulsion in the first sentence that I have quoted. Is Harris writing of a historical inevitability? Of a categorical imperative? Or is he merely making a legislative proposal? This is who-will-rid-me-of-this-troublesome-priest language, ambiguous no doubt, but not open to a generous interpretation.

It becomes even more sinister when considered in conjunction with the following sentences, quite possibly the most disgraceful that I have read in a book by a man posing as a rationalist: “The link between belief and behavior raises the stakes considerably. Some propositions are so dangerous that it may be ethical to kill people for believing them. This may seem an extraordinary claim, but it merely enunciates an ordinary fact about the world in which we live.”

Every regime in history which has made atheism an explicit policy of the state has shown an unusual, almost casual, willingness to engage in widespread bouts of murder and torture of those who do not conform to the enlightened vision of the ruling classes. Which makes sense — power is, after all, the logical outcome of atheism applied on a wide scale, and power must necessarily be maintained with demonstrations thereof.

Harris spells it out rather plainly, first by longing for a time when “faith, without evidence, disgraces anyone who would claim it” (did you note the latent positivism, O Reader?) and then suggesting a short while later that some propositions (including, perhaps, faith claims not grounded in evidence?) are sufficiently threatening to the enterprises of an atheistic state that it may even be moral to kill those engaging in such propositions.

Such thinking — very obviously a logical outcome of atheistic thought — leads us once again to the gulag, just as it has in the past.

(In Soviet Russia, hat tips you: Mark Shea)