2018-05-08T11:12:16-04:00

An atheist wrote on my blog: “I left the Catholic faith in stages. . . . [many atheist reasons given] Sell me on coming back to Mass, Dave. Give me the best you’ve got.”

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I don’t think someone like you can be persuaded with rational arguments. You have accepted all these ideas that I think rest on false premises and have built up an edifice which you think demonstrates that Catholicism is false. That can’t be deconstructed in a short time, and certainly not by arguments.

I could try to dismantle them one-by-one, but you wouldn’t likely be convinced. And if I knocked ’em all down (even in your eyes), you’d just find some other ones. That’s what skeptics and atheists do. I know; I’ve been interacting with them as a Christian apologist for now 36 years.

What you need is a miracle right in front of your face. There are plenty of documentations of miracles, such as the cures at Lourdes, but atheists always find some way to (inadequately) dismiss them.

Or you need a profound act of love that could warm up your frozen heart: like someone saving your life or leaving all their money to you: something that would start you wondering why they did this thing. It’s very difficult for me to do that as a writer, through the screen. But I can say that I care about you and your soul, just as I do about all people.

I want you and everyone to be as happy and fulfilled and joyful and at peace as I am with this Christianity that I have found (Catholicism in particular).

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Atheist and friend Jon Curry stated: “I’m starting to think that argumentation barely plays a role in persuading people. Maybe a little.”

That’s what I’ve thought for about 34 years. Welcome aboard!

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The first atheist also asked: “Have you ramped up your engagement with skeptical bloggers because perhaps you are wondering about your own faith commitment?”

Not at all. I’m as confident as ever, and each story I look at it confirms yet again and all the more that atheism doesn’t have a leg to stand on and that my beliefs are indeed true ones.

Why I did it at this time is quite simple. I follow my “muse” at any given time. I write about hundreds of topics within theology and apologetics. I just came back from a 24-day trip to Alaska, considered what I’d like to start writing about again, and thought first of analyzing “deconversion stories” (which I had already done in the past: John Loftus being one of my main critiques).

It could have been any number of topics, but that one came into my head, and so I followed the muse. It’s one of my secrets of self-motivation and of being so prolific in my writing.

I usually deal with atheists in cycles, anyway. I tire of it after a while, do something else, and then feel like it again after so many months or years.

Generally speaking, I think now is a time for Christians to do more apologetics about atheism and to have more dialogues with atheists, because your movement is growing, and the result, I believe, will be more miserable people, who (if they think about it fully and with complete consistency) will ultimately be in despair at a meaningless world and universe. So it’s a motive of love again. I don’t want to see anyone get to that place when there is so much more to life and existence.

If I’m all wrong in the end, then so be it. At least I did what I thought would help other people, and not what would hurt them. The motive was love, not malice. If all I have left when I die (if there is no afterlife or God) is a legacy to my children and those who knew me, of service and compassion for others, I’ll take that any day.

In either case, it’s worth doing. If there is a God and heaven, I have helped a few souls to believe in Him and to get there. If not, my motives have been pure (albeit misguided and based on falsehood, if that turns out to be the case). It’s certainly not the profit motive that leads me on!

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(originally 7-21-17)

Photo credit: photograph of badge created c. 1987, from 24 November 2011 [public domain / Wikimedia Commons]

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2017-11-17T11:04:07-04:00

JesusPassion3
(10-10-06)
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I reply to the comments of “drunken tune” (never was there a more apt nickname) on the Debunking Christianity blog:

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Here’s some short answers that most Christians will have trouble with. Us atheists need not answer them because they do not contradict with [sic] atheism, 

Well, you have plenty of your own to deal with, so I wouldn’t wish more upon you.

but they do with Christianity. 

According to you . . .

While atheism may be depressing for some, 

It should be for all, but people have a great capacity to make meaning where there should ultimately be none, given their presuppositions. One sees the dichotomy in your own comments.

it’s better than following a contradictory lie that makes you feel good.

I agree with the concept expressed here; but deny that it applies to Christianity rather than atheism.

[1] When earthquakes occur, or children are hacked to pieces, where is your god? 

Being hacked to pieces and slowly murdered on the cross.

If he’s absent, then he’s not omnipotent or all-good.

Obviously, He was willing to take on the suffering that many of us have to endure. He is there with any victim who calls out to Him (even if they don’t), but it doesn’t necessarily follow that He should prevent all suffering.

This is what I delved into, in my long paper on the problem of evil. The atheist casually assumes that God should intervene in every tragic situation and use the miraculous to do so, without stopping to consider what this would entail: what sort of weird world (in terms of the natural order) it would require.

I made the point that atheists are extremely reluctant to allow any divine intervention in matters of nature and will despise even theistic evolutionary attempts to do so in any way, shape, or form, yet if we switch over to this discussion on evil, all of a sudden, if God doesn’t do thousands of miracles per second, then He is either bad or not there at all.

I make the argument (too involved to briefly summarize) that there is, therefore, some necessity for the world being the way it is, and that God is bound to the laws of logic, insofar as natural disaster and natural evil occurs. It is unreasonable to assume that He must perform millions of miracles so we never suffer at all. Other evil is clearly a result of man’s inhumanity to man, and it is foolish to blame God for it. We have the capacity to eliminate much of that.

[2] Then is it free will? That must be why people act so horribly to each other. 

The presence of free will makes it possible that it will be abused, yes. We believe that God thought it better to allow free will and the evil that can result, rather than make robots who can do no other than what they do. God made it possible for you to be so free that He even allows you to believe foolish things like denying that He exists. That’s extremely tolerant, isn’t it? It would be like me saying, “hey, you can believe whatever you want, even that I don’t exist.” And He is the one Who created you; without Whom you wouldn’t be here at all.

Yet, how much choice does the baby born with Down’s Syndrome have? 

That is not explained by free will, but rather, by the nature of the natural world, which will (properly examined and thought through) entail such things (in this instance, because genetics is not an absolutely perfect system). C. S. Lewis wrote:

We can, perhaps, conceive of a world in which God corrected the results of this abuse of free will by His creatures at every moment: so that a wooden beam became soft as grass when it was used as a weapon, and the air refused to obey me if I attempted to set up in it the sound waves that carry lies or insults. But such a world would be one in which wrong actions were impossible, and in which, therefore, freedom of the will would be void . . . All matter in the neighbourhood of a wicked man would be liable to undergo unpredictable alterations. That God can and does, on occasions, modify the behaviour of matter and produce what we call miracles, is part of the Christian faith; but the very conception of a common, and therefore, stable, world, demands that these occasions should be extremely rare . . .

. . . fixed laws, consequences unfolding by causal necessity, the whole natural order, are at once the limits within which their common life is confined and also the sole condition under which any such life is possible. (The Problem of Pain, New York: Macmillan, 1962 [originally 1940], 33-34)

If we’re given free will by this being, and I believed in him, I’d pray every day that he’d take our free will away. Anything to stop the powerful from oppressing the weak.

He obviously thought differently, and He (being omniscient) knows better than we do, why the world is the way it is. This was essentially the perspective of the Book of Job. It makes a lot of sense, if one presupposes for the sake of argument, the theistic God. If He does exist and is all-knowing, then who are we to try to second-guess Him, no matter how perplexing we may think the world is?

[3] So then is it that we all ‘have a purpose’? 

Indeed.

When truly horrible things happen to people that do not deserve to suffer, is your god behind this? 

He allows the evil to happen for a higher purpose (often so high we cannot comprehend it). He was certainly behind the crucifixion. That had the utmost purpose, even though the thing itself was horrendous evil. God (the Father) took it and made it the means for the salvation of mankind. He used the intended evil for good.

If that’s so, stop revering a monster. If this guy’s all-powerful, then he’s nothing more than a little boy with a magnifying glass standing over his ant colony. 

But you still have to establish your assumed premise that God must necessarily intervene in every tragedy, or cease to be good or all-powerful. You seem to be unable to comprehend how a theistic world could contain suffering or that much suffering could be the result of 1) natural laws of nature, and 2) malicious human free will.

The truly amazing thing to explain is how heroism and goodness and human love, of a selfless character, and good qualities in cultures at large, continue to exist, in such a meaningless universe.

For example, there was a ton of suffering in World War II, yet it could have been prevented if Germany had not been allowed to build up its military and install a fascist regime (ditto for Japan). So that evil (itself caused by man’s stupidity and failure of foresight) caused tremendous suffering, yet at the same time there was opportunity for great, wonderful, selfless acts of love, in order to alleviate the suffering brought on by human idiocy and blindness.

And the fact remains that the bad guys were beaten. The world was not entirely meaningless and hopeless. The evil people were beaten and their plans thwarted. I could just as well say that God caused that to happen in His larger plan, rather than irrationally blame God for the origins of that tragic conflict, when it was man’s fault for not preventing it. You look at all the bad things and blame God without cause, but one can also look at how God used the evil to bring about good, in many specific instances and overall.

The child that gets run over by a speeding car had a purpose in being violently crushed to death under the wheel of a hummer? I think not.

In and of itself, it does appear meaningless, senseless, and outrageous, I admit. It certainly is in atheism, because this life is all there is. But when there is an eternal life ahead of us, tragic events like this are not the be-all and end-all. God can even use such horrors to bring about good. The parents can be a witness of hope, when all would be looking to them to be crushed under the weight of agony and sorrow. It’s not humanly possible to endure such suffering, but it is possible by God’s grace. And that can be a witness that can bring about the salvation of many, which would be a wonderful thing brought about by the bad, hence giving it meaning it would not have by itself.

In fact, my wife knows a couple who had a young child who was behind their car, then the father backed up and crushed him to death. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would have been like. I could not endure that on my own; I couldn’t even start. I would want to kill myself on the spot.

But this poor couple survived and gave the glory to God. They didn’t lose faith. They didn’t become atheists like so many of you, for far lesser reasons. And that is because we Christians believe there is a purpose and meaning to everything, no matter how incomprehensible to us, and there is another world coming, where all will be made right and just, and suffering will cease.

In any case, Christianity has just devalued life. 

Not at all; it is ultimately meaningless atheism which does that. Life has the highest meaning in the Christian worldview, which encompasses suffering and transcends it, even though it is very difficult for us to comprehend.

We’re either robots following a master plan, there’s a purpose to every horrible thing happening, 

It’s not an intrinsic purpose, but a purpose insofar as God can use tragedy brought on by evil or the natural world, to bring about a higher good. I gave two examples above. But the existence of free will of necessity entails suffering, because free beings really can rebel and cause untold misery.

or we’ve just blamed the baby for bad genes. 

Of course we don’t blame the baby.

If you believe in god, then anything is then permissible.

Quite the contrary; God is the only sensible ground for a system of absolute ethics; otherwise everything is arbitrary and relativistic. That’s why by far the greatest evils have been perpetrated by cultures that rejected Christianity and put man in the driver’s seat (Nazi Germany, Maoist China; Leninist and Stalinist Russia, etc.)

Now we slaughter children in their mother’s wombs (in America) at a 4000 a day rate. Is that God’s fault, too, or a result of human beings playing God? Yet for some reason I hear precious little protest about that in all these ghastly scenarios meant to “disprove” God. You mention a child being run over, but not having its brains sucked out upon emerging from the womb or being torn limb from limb. Is that God’s fault, or the “doctor’s” who does it, and the society which permits such monstrosities to be legalized and called “good”? Is that a result of Christianity or of secularism and the worship of unbridled sex without responsibility, which involves butchering children that inevitably result from unhindered, amoral sexuality?

John W. Loftus chimed in, with regard to the ubiquitous Hitler connection:

I have a whole section in my book devoted to the question, “What is Life Without God?” that if you really want a detailed answer to this question you should get. What I was arguing for is that if God exists then he did wrong for allowing Hitler to kill and kill and kill. 

Hitler is either “allowed” by necessity of human free will or else we have no free will. God obviously thought free will was preferable to being automatons. But in this instance, clearly, we could have prevented what happened.

In the natural world something must be killed so that some other carnivore can eat. This is the world your God set up. 

That is the animal world. If you want to directly compare that world with human beings, and make us merely an evolutionary development of it (i.e., in a completely naturalistic sense; I am not condemning theistic evolution), then you have huge problems of your own, since how can you argue that cannibalism is more wrong for human beings than for animals (especially in a eat-anything-to-survive environment, such as the famous Donner party)? Atheists will play games and make out that people are qualitatively different, but this is nonsensical within your paradigm, which has man evolving directly from this same animal kingdom, wherein survival of the fittest is the natural order of things.

Thus, e.g., eugenics was justified by the Nazis and folks like Margaret Sanger, founder of Planned Parenthood (who got a lot of her racist ideas from the Nazis) on evolutionary grounds. The real difficulties, then, lie on your side. You have to differentiate men from the animals, in order to have any rational system of ethics, but you have no basis to do so. Christianity, on the other hand, can easily make the distinction, based on the notion of a soul, which makes human beings quite different from the animals; also the fact that man is made in God’s image. The supernatural, non-material fact of a soul makes the qualitative difference

That makes him worse than Hitler by a long long shot.

Really? I don’t see how:

1) God allows free will.

2) Free will entails the possibility of rebellion and evil.

3) Hitler ushered in one such massive societal rebellion against civilization and evil campaign.

4) God is to blame for Hitler’s evil because He allowed free will.

5) Man isn’t to blame for Hitler’s evil, even though he had the capacity to prevent it altogether.

This is irrational. It makes no more sense to blame God for the evil choices of creatures He created free than it does to blame a good parent for sins of a child of his or her own volition, committed after the parent trusted the child to be responsible with its freedom. You can’t blame one being for the sins of another; at some point there is individual responsibility. That’s why it is ridiculous to blame God for Hitler.

But even if that made any sense, why do you atheists not give God any credit for all the good which comes from free will? If you want to hold Him accountable for all the bad things that men do to each other, or the natural events that can hardly be otherwise in a sensible, orderly universe, then how come you never give Him any credit for anything?

Hitler’s Germany was a Christian nation and all you can do is to ask about Hitler from my perspective? 

The people may have been, but the regime was not, by any stretch of the imagination. It was a grotesque mixture of corrupted romanticism, paganism, and occultism. The Final Solution was not justified on Christian grounds.

My conclusion (2) is that Hitler did wrong because he killed people, and I value people because I’m a person. 

Good for you. It ain’t rocket science.

I have sympathy for people who suffer like that under such a dictator. I would’ve stopped Hitler if I could, but your God did nothing. 

If He stopped Hitler by the miraculous and abrogation of his free will, then we would have a world where no one was free, and every bad, evil thing is immediately prevented: precisely the sort of world which is the utter opposite of what atheists argue must be the case in terms of naturalistic science. If you don’t allow the slightest intervention of God in the natural world (intelligent design, etc.) then why do you demand it when it comes to the problem of evil?

So in the realm of science, you argue that God can’t exist, period, simply because the natural world is what it is (i.e., assumed as a matter of unproven naturalistic dogma), and allows no supernatural, yet in order for God to be “allowed” to exist where suffering abounds, He must intervene constantly and never cease or else you will mock Him as nonexistent or a weakling or a monster, worse than Hitler, etc. And somehow these utterly contradictory scenarios coexist in one brain and one intellectual conglomeration. And we’re supposed to be impressed by such literal nonsense?

That makes my moral code better than your God’s moral code, because he let Hitler kill and kill and kill. 

No; men did that. They allowed it to start up in the first place. Then one can blame German people who refused to stand up against the evil when it came to their country, because it cost them something. We’ve far surpassed the German people in our sins of omission, because we sit idly by in America today while 4400 children a day are slaughtered. We call it “choice” or “sexual freedom” or “expedience” or “a career.”

But how is it any better for that to take place in our abortuaries than it was for Nazi atrocities to occur in concentration camps? Hitler killed six million Jews. Legal child-killing in America has now taken 44 million lives in the most hideous fashion. Again: is that God’s fault, or man’s, for allowing it to take place while doing nothing? Or is a tiny human life of less value than a grown Jewish person’s life? One unfortunate group was murdered because of ethnicity and religion; the other because of the sin of being small, helpless, and yet unborn.

I see no difference. But lots of people do. So spare me your sanctimonious tripe about Hitler and this supposedly having something to do with the morality of God, while most atheists (and some half of Christians also) wink at abortion and pretend it is not the abominable evil and outrage that it is.

You say my moral code is subjectively chosen? Well then, where does your God’s moral code come from?

It’s eternal. Therefore, it “comes from” nothing. It always existed in God. God is Love. Yours is certainly subjective because you can’t create an absolute larger than yourself and applicable to all, no matter how hard you try. That has to come from a Being Who transcends creation and mankind itself.

[ now back to drunken logic, er tune]:

Your god is behind the scenes, tapering with our genetic code, is he not? He’s in control of the whole . . . universe! Isn’t he there in every cancer cell and every quadriplegic’s broken spinal cord? Your god chooses what happens, and knows what will happen. Where is the free will when a baby is shot in the head, or your mother falls down the stairs?

. . . Now your god is allowing these atrocities to happen? How do you know he never intended to control everything? He’s all-powerful. He can’t just give up his power, otherwise he isn’t all-powerful, and is then only semi-powerful. He’s practically enabling these diabolical actions to take place. He is nothing more than a demon that allows horrible things to happen to innocent people, and deserves no submission from you or me.

Wow; you’re getting awfully angry at a nonexistent thing. I don’t spend my time getting into a lather about how unjust the man in the moon made of green cheese is or what a rascally scoundrel Darth Vader or Dracula is. Funny that you would do that with a mere fairy-tale known as “god.”

I always say that a radical feminist is someone who hates men yet tries her hardest to be exactly like them in almost all respects. You know: the identifying with the oppressor routine.

It is now clearly the time and place to define the irrationally angry atheist:

One who hates and gets all worked up against the “god” who doesn’t exist, and who desires to be the exact opposite of the imaginary being whose imaginary qualities he simultaneously vainly imagines and detests.

Man! Talk about an irrational and absurd complex . . .

There is an answer: Once upon a time we evolved, and through copulation and combination of our genes present in a sperm and an egg, we get small variations in the genes that are passed on. Sometimes an environmental factor such as a virus or germ may change the code, or a subdominant gene may be expressed through chance [about 1/4th of the time]. This repeats for a very, very, very long time. And that’s why we have genetic birth defects. The end.

Precisely! This is my argument. Lots of suffering comes from the natural world and what can result from it. It is unreasonable to absolutely demand that God must supersede all such instances in a supernatural way or else we all-wise human beings (not — unlike the imaginary “god” — known for our evil deeds at all) will reject Him and pretend He isn’t even there.

It makes much more sense to accept the natural world as it is and accept that things such as mutations and falling off of cliffs and drowning and fever epidemics will occur and that this casts no doubt on God’s goodness because there is a sense in which it cannot be otherwise. God made the natural world what it is. The laws of science and logic alike apply to it. Sometimes bad things will happen there. Lots of good stuff happens too.

But every good thing can be corrupted and become “evil.” If I get too close to that pretty orange-red-peach sunset sun, I’ll burn (I mean totally burn, not just get sunburn, but the latter is suffering, too). If I don’t watch where my head is, and how long, when I swim, I’ll drown. If I eat a poisonous mushroom, it’ll kill me. And sex (the same exact physical act) can be rape as well as the most beautiful expression of male-female interpersonal oneness and love. It’s all the natural world.

I used to love to play strikeout, where you throw a rubber ball against a brick wall with a strike zone chalked on it and have a one-on-one baseball dual (I still play with my sons, in fact, and I still hit and pitch very good at age 48). That’s pretty natural stuff too. Bats are kind of hard, and mafia hit men have used them to kill people. A guy (Ray Chapman) was killed in 1920 after being struck by a pitch in the major leagues. I had loads of fun playing that game. But the natural world being what it is, and kids being what they are (I was 10 or 11), one day I climbed up this place over a set of stairs, at the school where we played strikeout, to get a ball that someone hit up there.

I was about 20 feet off the ground, and had to go up to another level. So I put some little pieces of brick that were laying there, to step on, in order to climb up to the higher part. I was right on the edge, though, and the little pile collapsed, sending me to the concrete sidewalk below. So the same place that provided so much fun now became quite the opposite. Fortunately, I fainted on the way down and they say that is what saved me. I wound up with a concussion and a sprained wrist: not even a broken bone.

Was that God’s fault, or was it mine for sheer stupidity? Is God supposed to wipe out every child’s curiosity and adventurous spirit and devil-may-care attitude of invulnerabilty and carefree bliss because some will be killed by it? I don’t think so, because that is part of what it means to be a child. It’s easy to say “God should make every child never do stupid stuff so they won’t get hurt.” But think of a world like that:

You want to play baseball? Now you can’t because some kid may let a bat fly after he swings and hit another kid and crush his skull. Okay; better not play then, and God is evil or ain’t there at all because He allows such things. What can God do to make it better? Well, He can make bats mushy and soft. Alright, fine. But how can you hit a ball now? You can’t. So it becomes impossible because to eliminate all suffering, God must make stuff soft so no bad thing can ever happen.

So the atheist may say, “naw; God only has to turn the bat to mush if it is about to hit someone and hurt them.” Alright, so now if we grant that God must do that to be good and retain His omnipotence and existence and be given lip service by atheists, we have to allow the miraculous. Yet atheists fight tooth and nail against miracles as the most implausible, unprovable thing imaginable. Why, they violate the natural law, and this can never happen! And everyone knows that! But now they must happen all over the place so that God can be a good guy and exist after all?

The sheer absurdity of this ridiculous demand is its own refutation. Therefore I accept the contrary: for the natural world to sensibly exist, and for miracles to be rare rather than mundane and perpetually occurring, there must be the possibility of bad things happening in that same natural world. And when they do, it is not rational (let alone fair) to blame God for such tragedies. Based on the reductio ad absurdum above, I reject such a scenario on entirely logical grounds.

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Photo credit: Flagellation of Christ, by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640) [Wikimedia Commons /  Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license]

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2017-08-08T01:05:13-04:00

+ Circumstances and Factors Regarding my Evangelical Conversion in 1977 at Age 18 and Catholic Conversion at Age 32

Dave0477

Yours truly (center) in April 1977: right before my existential crisis, leading to my evangelical conversion, with my brother Gerry and sister-in-law, Judy (both, sadly, deceased). That’s about the longest I ever grew my hair, too!

*****

This is from a private correspondence with a very friendly and fair-minded atheist, who goes by the nickname, “Comrade Carrot-Blog Vegetarian.” He has agreed that it would be made public. Unlike the vast majority of atheists I have met online, he is actually curious about my spiritual journey, minus any hint of condescension or the usual atheist views of Christians (that we are ignorant, anti-science, given to following a myth-like God akin to leprechauns, irrational, pretentious and bigoted, etc.). Bottom line: it’s great discussion within a friendship that has constructive value. This is what it’s about: simply talking and listening to each other. It’s entirely possible: at least with the right kind of person on both sides. His words will be in blue.

*****

I don’t have any intention of opening up a debate on the topic of conversion/deconversion accounts generally, or about the extent to which any particular one is warranted. I mostly wanted to pick your brain a bit as to one or two of the experiences I imagine you would have had at certain points in your own journey.
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While I don’t have much of an interest in conversion and deconversion stories generally, I have become quite interested in forms of Christianity and pseudoChristianity that lie at (or just beyond) the margins of “mainstream Christian thought” (fully aware, by the way, just how loaded a phrase that is). Sometimes people come to rest at one of these views, but more often they hold them briefly in the transition to, or away from Christianity. A lot of these have been so extensively documented as to become trite (people often shuffle between worldviews that are well-established and widely held, for reasons which are obvious). But, the nominal Christian occult-dabbler is a new one for me.
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I would predict that there was a brief time in transition (if not an extended time) where you thought that occultism was compatible with Christianity, or maybe even that it was the proper application of Christianity. If I’m right about that (and perhaps even if I’m not) I’d be interested to hear your take on what a “Christianized occultism/’occultanized’ Christianity” looks like. What ostensibly incompatible concepts did you take to have reconciled at the time? Which ones did you hold in tension? What was the role of occultism in your understanding of fundamental Christian doctrines like sin, atonement, and divine revelation? What (if any) sources were you consulting at the time as you tried to piece together a coherent “hybrid” worldview?
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The move from backslidden occult-dabbler to Evangelical is a pretty sharp one, so I would imagine that was more of an epiphanic conversion with little to no transitional period. If not, however (which is to say, if there was an occultist Evangelicalism) that would be even more interesting to hear about!
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I’ll tune some of the dials on my questions if needed, but that’s the crux of what I’m curious about.
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I’m afraid I can’t help you much as regards an occultic / evangelical hybrid, because I never did that. I’m assuming you must have read one of my early accounts. The only implausible hybrid I tried to do was to blend very liberal views on sexuality with evangelicalism for about four years (ages 19-23). :-)

I was a profoundly ignorant, nominal Methodist, but became interested in the occult because I’ve always been an intellectually curious person (TV sparked it), and in retrospect, I was (specifically) spiritually curious, too (the “spirit world” and all that), due to being taught so little in Methodism. I would say that I was starved for spirituality, and since I didn’t receive it in Christianity for my first 18 years (because of not being taught), I filled that gap with occultic stuff and a strong Einstein-like nature mysticism (though never pantheist as his views were).

The “light show” portion of 2001: A Space Odyssey literally blew my mind. That was my religion in 1968, at age 10: “what was that all about?!” “How did the universe come to be?” Etc. In 1974, hearing Richard Wagner’s Ring music for the first time blew my mind again, in a somewhat similar way, and was a quasi-religious experience. How can mere music do that? I don’t know (it’s a bit like the imaginative power of poetry), but I highly suspect that it has to do with associations built up through the years in TV and movies. In any event, hearing Wagner was almost a mystical experience, in a way that no other music ever has been (Mahler, though, comes close).

But nothing ever came of that (I didn’t get into Norse mythology as a result, as, say, C. S. Lewis did). It just stood by itself in isolation. I would also say in retrospect that these experiences were manifestations of what is called the “argument from longing / desire.” C. S. Lewis writes a great deal about it: what he and others call sehnsucht. It’s fascinating. Atheists don’t think much of it, but they thumb their noses at all Christian arguments. What else is new? What I do know, however, is that I intensely felt these experiences at a very deep level (whatever the explanation). If they were “mythological” then (as Tolkien famously convinced Lewis) there was such a thing as a “true myth”: and that is Christianity.

But getting back to your question (I was having fun reminiscing!): I never sought to make any synthesis between occultism and Christianity because they didn’t overlap at all in my own odyssey. I was only interested in the occult when I was exceedingly ignorant about Christian theology (I didn’t even know that Christians believe Jesus to be God in the flesh). So the occult interest ran about 9-10 years (and I was quite serious: I tried to do telepathy and to astral project myself). Then I had an evangelical conversion which was quite the epiphany at the time.

Once that happened, I gave up the occult altogether, since my brother Gerry (who had converted six years earlier) had been warning me about it all along as dangerous and inconsistent with Christianity. I took his word, since I believed he had been right about the truthfulness of evangelicalism. In a few years, I would learn myself how inconsistent it was, as I studied the cults (groups like Jehovah’s Witnesses and also a bit about the New Age Movement) and started to seriously learn theology.

Next question?!

So…definitely a different experience than what I expected, but fascinating in some ways I didn’t expect. I had assumed a thicker sense of “nominal Methodism”…something more like “a weak commitment to a clear Christian worldview” rather than “A Christian-themed (but ultimately unclear) worldview”. It appears you had more of a “tabula rasa” upbringing than I imagined. 
*
It was simply a matter of more or less total ignorance of the religious belief-system I was ostensibly part of. No Sunday school to speak of, no education at home. I never read the Bible. The sermons were boring (and probably were mostly about social issues anyway). Religion has to be made interesting somehow. Once I “caught” some interest in 1977 I never looked back. It did indeed speak to something deep inside of me that was lacking, and subsequent history proves that I merely had to have Christianity presented to me in an appealing (and intellectual) way. But from 1968-1977 I was a “practical atheist” (I lived as if there was no God; it made little difference in my life). My family stopped going to church in 1968 when I was ten, and I had hated it when we did go. I still remember waking up with dread on Sunday morning, with the nice clothes at the end of my bed, put there by my mom.
*
That’s a fair bit outside the range of my own experience. I don’t recall a time when I didn’t have an operable worldview of some kind. What was it about the (or your) Methodist church that inclined you to seek spiritual growth outside the church rather than in it?
*
I would say it was almost like a default choice. Occultism filled the vacuum because it sparked my curiosity. It was shows like One Step Beyond and Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits and experiences with Ouija Boards with friends and cousins that drew me in.
*
Did you believe Christianity to be ill-equipped for this? Did your church actively discourage this sort of thing? Did you genuinely not know which sorts of things were inside the church and which were outside it?
*
I didn’t think about it enough to even get to any of those points. I simply went where my curiosity led me. I instinctively felt that there was something more to existence than only material things. There was “spirit” in some sense, too. It was just “there.” Christians believe that God puts an innate sense of the supernatural and the spiritual within us: almost like a Platonic outlook, I think. In my opinion, human beings unlearn that as time goes on (unless religion is cultivated). And then we tell ourselves that it was just childhood fantasies and fairy tales. In fact, I say it is just the opposite: children are closer to spiritual truths and then move away from them into more fantasy as time goes on (if they become secularized or become agnostics and atheists). Those are the real fantasies, from where we sit.
*
I understand the dramatic, born-again experience quite well, so your conversion to Evangelicalism itself isn’t a mystery. It does strike me as a odd that you would have found contentment in Evangelicalism for as long as you did (clearly you ultimately didn’t).
*
Once I was a Christian, I really was one: a radical Christian with full commitment (minus, of course, the usual set of flaws and sins that we all struggle with). Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered to undergo the conversion, if I wasn’t serious. I was never totally discontented with evangelicalism. It was a very fruitful and happy time of my life. I look at it with great fondness and have warm memories. Becoming Catholic wasn’t so much a rejection of that, as it was moving into a greater fullness of Christianity. Catholics often refer to our view as the “fullness” of Christianity. I had added the Church, sacraments, Church history, the saints, the pope,and other Catholic distinctives to an already robust view.
*
Conversely, we look at Protestantism (good as it is in many many ways) as a “skeletal” or minimalistic version of Christianity. It removed things that had always been believed. It’s stripped-down Christianity: just the basics. It’s like eating bread and water rather than a huge feast. But I had spiritual experiences within evangelicalism. It wasn’t devoid of that at all.
*
The set of spiritual satisfactions on offer in the Evangelical tradition seems to me to be quite distinct from those you were seeking prior to your conversion.
*
Again, I wasn’t seeking so much as simply experiencing things that came my way: that surprised me. Both the profound impact of 2001 and the music of Wagner were both like that: a bolt out of the blue that bowled me over. The biggest thing I actually sought was nature mysticism. But it was very nebulous and undefined. I felt something very real and profound in nature. I wouldn’t have been able to explain or articulate it then; nor could I do so very well now. But it’s real. Whatever is going on there, it’s a real thing. No atheist will ever convince me that it was just fantasies in my own brain.
*
The rote, reductionist liturgy of the Evangelical tradition has become so engorged from the fruits of enculturation that it has crowded out the “contemplative” aspect of the mystikos.
*
Not within the charismatic, Jesus People tradition that I was part of! True, it wasn’t big on mysticism and contemplation, but I got enough of that through various writers. I was always trying to draw from different Christian traditions. Lewis was my bridge to “higher” Christian traditions, and Chesterton later on.
*
It seems as if a person genuinely longing for transcendence and for a “filling out” of their mystical experiences would be left utterly unsatisfied with Evangelicalism, and spiritually-alienated by Evangelical culture. You wanted to connect with the transcendent, not grow it out of the ground and decode its genome.
*
That wasn’t my experience. All of that fit (my Romanticism and nature mysticism) in with my evangelicalism. It wasn’t “ruled out.” I would put it that way. Catholicism seems to have a much deeper sense of it, though.
*
The suggestion in Lewis wasn’t merely that the desire for the satisfaction of an X points to an actual X, but that there was a deep (almost visceral) tension between the recollection of a prior experience of X…and X. When it not there, it’s clearly not there. No famished man, having feasted to satiety, wonders whether he’s still famished.
*
Well, I think it’s both. Sehnsucht (what he also called joy) was for him what you refer to, but he also develops the argument from longing (as an indication of God and spirituality) to some extent. You sound like you have some firsthand experience of some of this stuff.
*
Could you talk more about that? Am I completely off-base? Were you generally content as an Evangelical?
*
Yes, I was, because it is the most true worldview apart from Catholicism. It’s still Christianity, and it satisfied me till I found a fuller, more plausible and historical expression of the same religion. I wasn’t “unhappy” at all.
*
If so, were you content for the same reasons by which you were not content as an occultist/mystic?
*
I was content then, too, for the most part! I was just going along. Part of that is my happy-go-lucky even temperament, I suppose.
*
Did this factor into your eventual move to Catholicism?
*
That’s a whole different thing. I became a Catholic because of moral theology and a study of history (development of doctrine and the Protestant “Reformation”: so-called). My Catholic conversion was very intellectual in a way quite different from my evangelical conversion (which came in the middle of a deep depression and a sense of existential despair and ultimate meaninglessness). I was already an apologist as a Protestant (13 years later), and so I approached the comparison between the two very intellectually and “theologically.” But the issue of contraception was actually what sparked my interest, combined with meeting a Catholic (rarity of rarities!) who could actually articulate and explain his faith in an appealing way to a 31-year-old zealous evangelical apologist.
*
This is fun! Not sure where it will go, but it’s a great “ride” and so refreshing to not have to hear all the usual condescending analyses, so common among atheists in approaching Christians and Christianity (often amounting to all Christians being dishonest gullible idiots who follow the equivalent of tooth fairies and leprechauns). All I’ve ever wanted to do with atheists is just talk person-to-person, as equals and fellow human beings who think about life. I’m just as interested in your stories, too. Thanks!
*
So, you’ve covered everything that I was, initially, curious about…but now there’s a quite a bit of new stuff to get to! A coffee shop and some sort of translocation device would come in handy right about now :-)
*
Well, old-fashioned letter-writing is a lost art too! I enjoy it, as one would expect, since I write for a living. I was just working on the online version when your latest letter came in. I’ll answer for now, the portions where you are asking about my experience.
*
I’ll focus on a couple of the questions that stood out to be while I chew over the rest.
*
Sounds good.
*
You cited the phenomenological experience of music several times, with particular respect to Wagner. I’m a musician myself, and can absolutely relate.
*
What kind of musician? I am an avid collector of all kinds of music. Lately, I’ve been buying used classical vinyl, and managed to recently obtain the entire Ring in vinyl. Many consider the VPO/Solti set the greatest recording ever made. I agree. And it’s the best brass I’ve ever heard recorded. I used to play trombone in the symphony band and symphony orchestra at a nationally renowned public high school in Detroit: Cass Technical. I had to take lessons with the first chair in the Detroit Symphony Orchestra before I even got there, in order to be in the Symphony Band. That’s how high the standards were.
*
My favorite periods by far are Romantic (I like Romantic, not classical Beethoven) and Post-Romantic music (up to about 1920 or so).
*
Wagner has a habit of doling these experiences out by the truckload.
*
Yes he does! What an amazing composing talent. Not so amazing as a human being (as everyone knows). But artists are not particularly renowned a saints.
*
I’m curious if your conversion to Christianity changed your relationship with music in any way.
*
Not that I recall. Being a romantic and semi-mystic has remained pretty constant all my life, through all my changes of worldviews, so I think it feels the same, in terms of enjoyment of music. It’s fascinating to listen to that sort of music, to see what it makes one’s imagination conjure up. My wife Judy and I will sit and listen to a piece and she’ll say that she had all these dreamlike visions in her head. What fascinates me to no end is: how can music do that: especially if it has no “program note” connotations to it? On what basis do some musical notes beautifully blended together in orchestration create images in our minds? It could just be association (movie and TV scores, as I said before) but I think there is something deeper there. My favorite instrument to listen to is actually the French horn.
*
Do you think Christianity provides you with an better understanding of the foundation, or ontological character of that sort of experience?
*
I haven’t thought much about it. Perhaps God put love of music into us as a prelude for whatever music there will be in heaven. He created us to instinctively, naturally like it, as part of the enjoyment of the senses,  just as we enjoy looking at a sunset or beautiful mountain range (I just traveled to Alaska!), or eating fine gourmet food. I would say that it reflects the beauty of God’s creation and goes back to Him. But I can’t say that I have thought about it much.
*
I suspect this is something that you’ve thought about (and which doesn’t get a lot of serious treatment in Christian literature, insofar as I’ve read). I’m really interested to hear you expand a bit on that.
*
I should do more of it, but I haven’t thus far. I would find it very difficult to write about. It would take more of a poetic / fictional writing approach, which is not what I do at all (apart from yearly Christmas poems). What little I do have is collected on my Romantic & Imaginative Theology web page. I would highlight, from that material, C. S. Lewis and the Romantic Poets on Longing, Sehnsucht, and Joy (compiled in Nov. 2001), and The Relationship of Romanticism to Christianity and Catholicism in Particular (compiled in Dec. 2001). Allow time for the latter to upload from Internet Archive.
*
What books/authors in the mystical tradition were you reading during your time as an Evangelical?
*
Not too many. I started reading Thomas Merton shortly before I became a Catholic; Thomas a Kempis (The Imitation of Christ), Rudolf Otto (The Idea of the Holy), and A. W. Tozer, insofar as he has some mystical streaks in him. Then there was C. S. Lewis’ autobiography, Surprised by Joy, which really got me thinking about mysticism and the argument from desire.
*
Also, what beliefs and concerns were at the foundation of your experiences of meaninglessness and existential despair prior to your conversion? These feelings are often presented as the products of a lack of good reasons not to feel them (reasons presumably supported by a robust worldview).
*
It’s wrapped up in my deep depression, which I went through for six months in 1977, at age 18-19, so it’s difficult to separate psychological factors from worldview considerations. I was lonely, didn’t know what I was going to do in my life (didn’t have a clue about a career), had held in my emotions way too much (going back to difficulties with my father).
*
I majored in sociology and minored in psychology, so I recognize that those sorts of factors were central in the whole experience. But it went beyond that. I felt that the universe was meaningless. The vague occultism and nature mysticism had all of a sudden become “not enough” to get me by anymore. Nor was my naturally sunny, happy-go-lucky temperament. It all collapsed in a heap, and quite quickly. There was some kind of Christian spark still inside of me: small though it might be. I would go to my brother’s church occasionally and sit there and squirm, feeling that the pastor was right in what he was saying, and that eventually I needed to deal with that. But I’d forget as soon as I went out the door. God was after me, letting me know (through pain as well as “persuasion” through people), that I needed to accept Him and let Him into my life.
*
When I got very deeply into despair, I yielded. I realize that the atheist mind will simply dismiss that as infantilism and seeking a mythical God (or comforting authority figure or what-not) out of psychological or emotional necessity. I understand why they would think that, but we counter that by saying that psychology is not all there is, and that God can reach us in all kinds of circumstances. He’ll accept us even for the foolish reason that we have no other choices to come up with: the “default” acceptance of God, for lack of any better “solution.” That’s what I did. But the thing “caught” and my life was eventually transformed: especially three-four years after that, when I experienced various personal revivals.
*
From the accounts that I’ve read, I’ve found that there are actually several positive beliefs behind them: Assumptions about the way the world is supposed to work, views on the nature (usually the primacy) of the self, views on what meaning should be thought to entail…etc. What sort of things were going through your head at the time?
*
Not much more than the above. It was a fairly non-intellectual conversion and much more about how to overcome the felt meaningless of my life and the universe. I had lived ten years as if God didn’t exist, and now He was showing me that that game was up. In fact, I did need Him to provide a framework of meaning and purpose. And in my case, it became my career, too. I started doing apologetics in 1981, and became a campus missionary from 1985-1989. That collapsed (an additional , but much lesser existential crisis!), and I did unrelated delivery work from 1991-2001, then went back to full-time apologetics as a Catholic in December 2001, when I lost my delivery job. I had finished my first book (of Catholic apologetics) in May 1996. It took me seven years to get it “officially” published.
*
One interesting area of overlap is that moral theology featured heavily in my own experience (and, frankly, my continuing experience). Obviously the set of concerns which would arise from Evangelicalism and result in Catholicism won’t be identical to my own, but I’m extremely interested to hear you go into detail about what problems you were wrestling with, the extent to which you have or haven’t resolved them, and what their genealogy was. I take it they weren’t present from the beginning, and arose in response to some particular thing or set of background events?
*
That gets into detailed issues that I have written about elsewhere (in several versions of my Catholic conversion story: see that web page). But the immediate catalyst was the issue of contraception. I was very active in the pro-life movement, and started meeting some Catholics, and I challenged them on the matter of contraception. I was a typical Protestant and saw nothing wrong with it whatever, and was very curious why Catholics did. One day my friend told me that no Christian group ever accepted contraception as morally permissible until the Anglicans did in 1930, and even then, for “hard cases only.” That was a thunderbolt. And it was because I had a high respect for the history of the Christian Church (in a still-Protestant sense) and so it was very impressive to me to learn the history of that particular moral doctrine.
*
Beyond that, my concerns at the time had to do with what I saw as a slippery slope of Protestant moral theology, which has a strong tendency of “conforming to the world” (in theological terms), or becoming secularized over time (the sociological approach). And those were usually the sexual and life issues (abortion, euthanasia, premarital sex, divorce, homosexuality, etc.). Catholics have a saying that “all heresy begins below the belt.”
*
What I increasingly sought was a consistent moral theology that existed in an unbroken chain back to the apostles and Jesus, and after much study, I determined that only Catholicism fit that bill. Orthodoxy was next best, but I knew that it had compromised on contraception and also on divorce. I was always against the latter on biblical grounds, and now had come to see that the former was also wrong (i.e., unbiblical and unapostolic).
*
This tied into the authority of the Catholic Church. I concluded that it had the best moral theology. But I still had to work through the issue of infallibility (that I vigorously opposed, tooth and nail), and the nature of the so-called “Reformation”: which I started to study from the Catholic perspective (most treatments of it being Protestant or secular). I was led to Cardinal Newman’s book on the development of doctrine and that was the final straw that broke my “back” of resistance to Catholicism.
*
One thing that occurred to me to ask was how you would characterize, on a more personal level, the difference between converting primarily as a response to emotional considerations, and converting primarily in response to intellectual considerations? I don’t so much mean “what’s the difference between these forms of engagement with faith” — that part is clear — I’m more interested to know what the difference was, for you, on the ground. How did the fact that you were able to approach Catholicism having your emotional and existential needs largely satisfied already, change the experience of converting to Catholicism compared to the experience of converting to Evangelicalism? 
*
Great question. The difference was one of choosing God Himself and resolving to be a committed disciple of Jesus in 1977: a beginning of an entirely different approach to life and the Ultimate Questions, and moving from within the Christian paradigm to another alternate place. The first conversion wasn’t intellectual per se. It was more emotional and “mystical” (in the sense we have been discussing), and also had a strong moral component.
*
When I got to considering Catholicism in 1990, all of that was strongly in place. It wasn’t a question of “following Jesus” or not, but rather, of how to best follow Him, and how this thing called “the Church” tied into that: how does one worship God in community, rather than merely as an individual? (the “rugged individualist” American and low church Protestant thing). To me, it was a lot like choosing alternate theories of history / theology, and was very intellectual in that way (like a conversion of positions within the framework of philosophy or science or historiography: except mine had to do with systematic theology, ecclesiology, and Church history).
*
History and music were my “first loves” long before theology, so Church history was inevitably gonna come into focus at some point of my Christian journey. I was interested in examining Catholic historical claims that were being presented to me, to see if they could hold up, and of reading Catholic takes on the Protestant “Reformation.” I never imagined that they could or would, but lo and behold, they did,  when I read Newman on development. That was an intellectual / theological feast far beyond — exponentially beyond — anything I had ever read or heard of before.
*
His philosophical work (Grammar of Assent) is equally amazing and so deep one can drown in it (in a good way!). It anticipated Michael Polanyi’s “tacit knowledge” and Alvin Plantinga’s “properly basic belief” 75-100 years earlier, and Newman wasn’t even a philosopher. He wasn’t technically a theologian, either. He was originally an Anglican priest and Church historian. Personally, I think he’s the greatest Christian thinker since Aquinas, and far more wide-ranging and deep than St. Thomas, and he’s my “theological hero.” I’ve collected three books of his quotations: I think they are the best ones currently available. I even went through 33 volumes of his letters. If he’s ever declared a saint (as he should be), I’ll actually make some money from these books, too!
*
So, in a nutshell, the common thread of my Catholic conversion was a determination of which competing theory was the best, with regard to history of ideas / history of doctrine and moral teaching, within Christianity. I concluded that Catholicism was superior in all three areas that I examined: 1) development of doctrine in the early and medieval Church, 2) the more cogent position over against Protestant 16th century innovations, and 3) development of moral theology, going all the way back to Jesus and the apostles. I thought it had much more truth, and greater fullness of truth, minus the many internal contradictions that are present in Protestantism (even in its very rule of faith: sola Scriptura: which I have written two books about [one / two] ).
*
I’m also curious as to what insights psychology and sociology brought to bear on your engagement with faith questions, and (perhaps more interestingly) the other way around. My educational background overlaps those fields a bit, but I don’t have a lot of formal experience with either, especially with respect to how they, as disciplines, approach questions of faith. What was made different about your experience of faith and your study of psychology/sociology, by the fact that you were engaged in both?
*
They tied into my two conversions very little. Mostly, my college education taught me how the secular mind thinks, and I was basically of that mind myself until my senior year. That’s what I got out of it, in retrospect. I understand secularism and social science, and the psychological analysis of human beings. It has helped me, however, in categorizing groups (which is almost all that sociology does!). So, for example, in my early apologetic studies of non-Christian (non-trinitarian) cults, my knowledge of sociology tied in; also in referring to various aspects in comparative religion, and sub-groups within Catholicism. And I use it a lot in my societal / political analyses, such as causes of inner-city blight, poverty and broken homes as the leading indicators of a life of crime and misery, etc. Growing up in Detroit is a virtual case study in all of that as well. Analyses of the relentless secularization that has gone on for 150, 100, 70, or 50 years: depending on how one defines the influences, also tie into that.
*
I think a “sociological mind” gives one the ability to both be in a group and simultaneously be able to “step out of it” and analyze it more objectively. And one can recognize patterns of behavior. For example, John Loftus has this argument where he talks about how Christians only believe as they do because of the environment that they grew up in. I actually agree that this is the case for probably a majority of believers. They may develop more rationales later, but that’s usually the initial entrance. I think those Christians need to know apologetics (my field), so they can know why they believe what they do. It’s a quintessentially sociological argument. What I’ve done is to start to develop an argument of turning the tables back to the atheist: noting that most become atheists only after immersing themselves in atheist materials and people. Then, after a while, “they are what they eat”: just as Christians are. Theologically, it’s quite the opposite dynamic, but sociologically, it’s pretty much the same.
*
So I actually do utilize sociology and sometimes psychology in my analyses: especially of competing views. Atheists often use those kinds of arguments, and I turn it right back on them, because they are no more immune to illogic and shoddy arguments or few justifying arguments at all, than we Christians are. But atheists are far less used to Christians challenging them, because they usually feel themselves far superior intellectually (and in many cases, that’s true, because they are disproportionately academics and thinkers, which often leads to what I would critique as hyper-rationalism, scientism, etc.). So I apply my college education far more in this way than to my own faith. Philosophy and historiography would be more closely related in that way, rather than sociology and psychology.
*****

See the next installment: Dialogue with a Friendly Atheist #2: Music, Longing, & Mysticism [8-7-17]

***

2017-07-25T12:12:41-04:00

DemonsSwine

The Swine Driven into the Sea, by James Tissot (1836-1902) [public domain / Wikimedia Commons]

*****

Prominent online atheist Jonathan MS Pearce (A Tippling Philosopher) loves to write about alleged biblical contradictions. He produced the post, “On Harmonising Biblical Contradictions” (7-23-17) and was kind enough to mention my name in the beginning:

This is a post I once made for John Loftus at Debunking Christianity [my italics] and contradictions came up in a recent conversation with Dave Armstrong, so here it is. Contradictions, as Dave stated, can be harmonised, or found not to be contradictions, or are so insignificant as to not be of bother to the Christian. However, what is really interesting is how the Christian mind deals with them.

He continues:

As mentioned, many [contradictions] are fairly irrelevant in the scheme of things and don’t really invalidate the core claims of the Bible, only the claims of inerrancy. What it does show, however, is the rationalisation process of the average Christian. Not only is the process hilarious to watch, but the answers given vary so widely amongst defenders of inerrancy (and even amongst liberal defenders who instinctively try to protect the Bible’s accuracy) that it seems fairly obvious as to the ad hoc nature of the defences.

One such example is the use of Gadarenes and Gerasenes that I will look into in more depth in this post and show how bad such attempted harmonisations can be.

Mark 5:1-2
They came to the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gerasenes. 2 When He got out of the boat, immediately a man from the tombs with an unclean spirit met Him,

Matt 8:28
When He came to the other side into the country of the Gadarenes, two men who were demon-possessed met Him as they were coming out of the tombs. They were so extremely violent that no one could pass by that way.

Luke 8:26-7
Then they sailed to the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 27 And when He came out onto the land, He was met by a man from the city who was possessed with demons;

We have two problems here:

Problem 1 – the Gospels contradict each other on where this took place – the country of Gadara or the country of Geresa
Problem 2 – one or two demons

Most skeptics claim that there is clear contradiction in both of these. The accounts are clearly referring to one single event, so there can’t be two events in nearby places.

It’s ridiculous to claim with any confident certainty as to whether these instances are even contradictions. The “one or two” [men / demons] supposed “contradiction” is clearly not one at all, by the rules of logic. This is one of the most common atheist / skeptical errors: in their rush to show how absurd the Bible and Christians are, to believe all this stuff that they despise so much. Mentioning one is as easily explained as saying that one writer drew from a (non-infallible) oral tradition in which one was mentioned, and the second from a tradition that mentioned two. Even those weren’t necessarily contradictory. In order to be, one account would have to say “only one” and the other “two.” That would be a logical contradiction. But they don’t and so it is a non sequitur (like innumerable atheist “exegetical” arguments are).

Jonathan, oblivious to the rules of logic,  nevertheless asserts that “most skeptics” believe there is a “clear contradiction” here. So much for the cogency and logical coherence of their thinking. It’s embarrassing, but there it is. All we need do (as St. John Chrysostom and St. Augustine did) is posit that one person was more remarkable or prominent than the other. Mark and Luke mention one, Matthew two. Likewise, in Matthew 20:30, two blind men are mentioned (with again one mentioned in Mark and Luke).

The number of demons are multiple in all accounts (Mk 5:9-12; Mt 8:31; Lk 8:30-33), so that is a non-issue as well. Why, then, does Jonathan wonder about “one or two demons”? It’s neither. It is “many.”

Now onto the place names. Gerasa is (as we know) some 30-35 miles southeast of the Sea of Galilee (but may have also been the name of the larger region). Wikipedia states about it: “In the second half of the 1st century AD, the city of Jerash achieved great prosperity”. Gadara is about six miles from the sea. Its ruins include two amphitheaters, a basilica, temple, a hippodrome, aqueducts, and colonnades: showing its importance and stature. “Gergesenes” is also in some manuscripts (Khersa or Gersa was a town actually on the shore of the sea). I visited it myself in Israel in October 2014. It has a huge cliff going down to the sea (the coast, however, being a bit further away, since the earthquake in Galilee in 749). Commentator R. C. H. Lenski states:

The distance of these cities from the lake is immaterial for the narrative since this deals with the region that is near the lake and not with the vicinity of either of the cities to the lake.

Jonathan concedes the existence of both cities: Gerasa (“at least 20-30 miles from Gadara”) and “Gadara, quite an important place, whose region must then have surely spread to the lake shore. This is why ‘the country of the Gadarenes’ makes some sense.”

Personally, I think that the most plausible explanation is that the seemingly “contradictory” accounts are simply using alternate names for the same area. As we all know, this is very common today. Jonathan is from England. Or is he from Great Britain? Or the United Kingdom? All are valid names for the same country. I’m from America; also known as the United States. Ancient Persia is now Iran. Ancient Babylonia is Iraq. France is also Gaul.

I myself am a midwesterner, a Michigander (indeed, from the “land of the Great Lakes”), and Detroiter (also known as Motown and the Motor City and the Automobile Capital of the World). I’m an Anglo-Saxon, Scottish-American, and Canadian-American (northern European, ethnically). We regularly visit friends near Pittsburgh, and can say “we visited the Pittsburgh area.” We could also say, “we visited Pennsylvania” or “Pennsylvania Dutch country.” Jesus was from Nazareth; hence is called “Jesus of Nazareth” or “Nazarene” (Mt 2:23; Mk 14:67) [actual town of origin] or “Jesus the Galilean” [larger region]. The Sea of Galilee itself is also called Lake of Gennesaret and Sea of Tiberius. Here are the actual descriptions (RSV):

Mark 5:1 . . . the country of the Ger’asenes.

Luke 8:26 . . . the country of the Ger’asenes . . . 

Matthew 8:28 . . . the country of the Gadarenes . . . 

Note that the texts don’t say Gerasa or Gadara, so they aren’t necessarily referring just to one of the cities. They all say “country of . . .” (in the sense of region, not “nation”). “Gerasenes” could have had a sense of reference to the entire region (as well as to a city: just as “New Yorker” can refer to the state or city), and “Gadarenes” likely was a reference to the most prominent city of the region at the time. Smith’s Bible Dictionary provides what I find to be a quite plausible explanation (not “special pleading” at all), and analogous to how we still use place names today:

These three names are used indiscriminately to designate the place where Jesus healed two demoniacs. The first two are in the Authorized Version. (Matthew 8:28; Mark 5:1; Luke 8:26) In Gerasenes in place of Gadarenes. The miracle referred to took place, without doubt, near the town of Gergesa, the modern Kersa, close by the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee, and hence in the country of Gergesenes. But as Gergesa was a small village, and little known, the evangelists, who wrote for more distant readers, spoke of the event as taking place in the country of the Gadarenes, so named from its largest city, Gadara; and this country included the country of the Gergesenes as a state includes a county. The Gerasenes were the people of the district of which Gerasa was the capital. This city was better known than Gadara or Gergesa; indeed in the Roman age no city of Palestine was better known. “It became one of the proudest cities of Syria.” It was situated some 30 miles southeast of Gadara, on the borders of Peraea and a little north of the river Jabbok. It is now called Jerash and is a deserted ruin. The district of the Gerasenes probably included that of the Gadarenes; so that the demoniac of Gergesa belonged to the country of the Gadarenes and also to that of the Gerasenes, as the same person may, with equal truth, be said to live in the city or the state, or in the United States. For those near by the local name would be used; but in writing to a distant people, as the Greeks and Romans, the more comprehensive and general name would be given.

The Biblical Training site (“Gerasenes”) elaborates:

The fact that Matthew places the healing of “Legion” in the “country of the Gadarenes” whereas Mark and Luke place it in the “country of the Gerasenes” may be harmonized on the historical grounds that geographical boundaries overlapped, and on the exegetical consideration that “country” embraced a wide area around the cities.

It’s simply alternate names for the same area: thus not contradictory at all. I think the coup de grâce is to look up the Greek word for “country” in these passages, to see what latitude of meaning it has. In all three instances the word is chōra (Strong’s word #5561). Thayer’s Greek Lexicon defines it as “the space lying between two places or limits . . . region or country.” The Sea of Galilee was clearly one of the limits.

In Luke 2:8 it is applied to the city of Bethlehem; in Acts 18:23 to Galatia and Phrygia. In Mark 1:5 it is used of “the land of Judaea” (KJV) and in Acts 10:39,to “land of the Jews” (KJV). In Acts 8:1 we have the “regions of Judaea and Samaria” (KJV), and in Acts 16:6, Galatia alone. Thus it is not always used of one specific country (nation), but rather, usually to regions or areas of either small (Bethlehem) or large (Judaea and Samaria) size, including regions surrounding large cities.

All of this sure seems perfectly consistent with calling the same area the “country” (chōra) of either the Gerasenes or the Gadarenes, after the two major cities. Why is this even an issue, I wonder? Well, it is because atheists, in their zealous rush to make fun of Christians, Christianity, and the Bible, start to lose their logical rigor and rationality, leading them to contend for implausible things: as presently.

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Image by “Pexels” [Pixabay / CC0 public domain]

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Introduction: “Deconversion” stories are accounts of an atheist or agnostic’s odyssey from some form of Christianity to atheism or agnosticism. Since these are public (else I wouldn’t know about them in the first place), it’s reasonable to assume that they are more than merely subjective / personal matters, that have no bearing on anyone else. No; it is assumed (it seems to me) that these stories are thought to offer rationales of various sorts for others to also become atheists or to be more confirmed in their own atheism. This being the case, since they are public critiques of Christianity (hence, fair game for public criticism), as a Christian (Catholic) apologist, I have a few thoughts in counter-reply.

I am not questioning the sincerity of these persons or the truthfulness of their self-reports, or any anguish that they went through. I accept their words at face value. I’m not arguing that they are terrible, evil people (that’s a child’s game). My sole interest is in showing if and where certain portions of these deconversion stories contain fallacious or non-factual elements: where they fail to make a point against Christianity (what Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga calls “defeating the defeaters”), or misrepresent (usually unwittingly) Christianity as a whole, or the Bible, etc.

As always, feedback on my blog (especially from the persons critiqued) is highly encouraged, and I will contact, out of basic courtesy, everyone whose story I have critiqued. All atheists are treated with courtesy and respect on my blog. If someone doesn’t do so, I reprimand them, and ban them if they persist in their insults.

When I cite the stories themselves, the words will be in blue.

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Today, I am responding to “Real Deconversion Story #14 – Anthony Toohey” (12-5-16), hosted on Jonathan MS Pearce’s A Tippling Philosopher web page at Patheos (where my blog is also hosted).

With . . .  Duane’s promise that all of the confusing stuff I’d heard about salvation and redemption in my Catholic upbringing was wrong, that it all came down to Believe and Be Saved… Well that was enough for me. I did, and as far as I knew, I was.

Anthony stated that he went to “after-school catechism. This created a fascination in me for the bible and for the mystical/spiritual aspects of Christianity.” But we don’t know how much he actually knew about Catholicism . . . seemingly not all that much, if he could forsake it  merely because of a Bible trivia game and the usual ignorant “Chick Tract”-like anti-Catholic sermonizing. Hence, he appears to have been like many millions of insufficiently catechized Catholics: almost to a person unfamiliar with apologetics, or the reasons why Catholics believe as they do. This is a common theme running through deconversion stories: either relative or profound ignorance of one’s own Christian affiliations. If we don’t know why we believe whatever — have no reasons for it — , then obviously we are easy targets of those who would dissuade us from our shallow, non-rational beliefs.

He talks about how the Santa Cruz Christian Church (I tried to find it on Google and was unsuccessful) gave him and his fiancee advice, causing him to call off their engagement. But this is hardly grounds to blame Christianity, because one church practiced what he rightly describes as “spiritual abuse.” As so often in these stories, one extreme sect is universalized to all of Christianity, as if it is representative of that whole. Atheists reading such gory details sit there lamenting, “see what rascals and morons those damned Christians are! So glad I came to my senses and left it. Best thing I ever did . . .” They never seem to realize that one extreme and twisted version of Christianity is not the whole ball of wax. Basic category errors and logical fallacies, in other words . . . These things usually aren’t stated outright, but I would contend that they are the underlying strongly implied assumption.

Former Christian atheists often refer back to the years of “abuse” (real or alleged) that they went through. Hence, Anthony writes: “It was not until after I left the faith and went back to examine my Christian life in light of my new viewpoint, that the gravity of what I had allowed to be done to us hit me.” In this case, it was real abuse, but only from an extremist fringe sector of Christianity, which is no disproof of Christianity per se.

I bought the first pieces of my spiritual library. He and Theresa had already bought me a study bible. That day I bought a comprehensive concordance, a bible dictionary, an exhaustive cross-reference, a bible atlas, and, finally, Gleason Archer’s Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties.

What?

I took Duane at his word, but inside, the title of that book put a cold shaft of fear inside me. How could God’s word have “difficulties?” What on earth was difficult about God’s revelation to mankind. I mean, he’s God, right? And we have the spirit of God.

This is shallow, unreflective thinking. I can think of a number of sound, logical reasons why such a book would exist:

 

1. The Bible is a very lengthy, multi-faceted book by many authors, from long ago, with many literary genres, and cultural assumptions that are foreign to us.

2. The Bible purports to be revelation from an infinitely intelligent God. Thus (even though God simplifies it as much as possible), for us to think that it is an easy thing to immediately grasp and figure out, and would not have any number of “difficulties” for mere human beings to work through, is naive. The Bible itself teaches that authoritative teachers are necessary to properly understand it.

3. All grand “theories” have components (“anomalies” / “difficulties”) that need to be worked out and explained. For example, scientific theories do not purport to perfectly explain everything. They often have large “mysterious” areas that have to be resolved. Think of, for example, the “missing links” in evolution. That didn’t stop people from believing in it. Folks believed in gradual Darwinian evolution even though prominent paleontologist and philosopher of science Stephen Jay Gould famously noted that “gradualism was never read from the rocks.” Even Einstein’s theories weren’t totally confirmed by scientific experiment at first (later they were). That a book like the Bible would have “difficulties” to work through is perfectly obvious and unsurprising to me.

4. Most of the rationale of explaining “Bible difficulties” is not from a perspective that they are real difficulties, but rather, to show that purported difficulties really aren’t such. They are usually based on illogical thinking or unfamiliarity with biblical genre, etc. Many alleged biblical “contradictions” simply aren’t so, by the rules of logic.

5. The Foreword of the book by Kenneth S. Kantzer explains its rationale: “[T]he faith of some troubled souls is hindered by misunderstanding the Scripture. They are confused by what seems to them to be false statements or self-contradiction. We need, therefore, to clear away such false obstacles to faith.” (p. 8)

 

For these reasons, as an apologist and avid Bible student, I’ve done quite a bit of writing on alleged “Bible difficulties” myself: found in the final section of my Bible & Tradition web page, and have analyzed relentlessly shoddy, illogical, fact-challenged atheist attempts to run down the Bible, in a section of my Atheism & Agnosticism page.

When I got home, I looked through some of the topics. I’ll confess that, even then, it seemed very equivocating – sort of a wordy hand-waving.

What is plausible and what isn’t, is a very complicated matter itself. In any event, Anthony has simply talked about the book, and has not given any concrete examples that readers can judge for themselves. As such, this is simply no argument against Archer’s book, or against Christianity. All we know is that Anthony found it unconvincing. So what? Granted, accounts like this (or Christian conversion stories) can’t argue every jot and tittle. But still, it’s good to point out what is actually an argument or evidence, and what isn’t, lest anyone become confused over the nature of evidence pro or con.

Not being comforted by what I read, I usually ignored this book. Instead, I started reading about all the wrong religions.

“We are what we eat.” It looks like Anthony didn’t even read Archer’s book all the way through. He seems to have quickly judged it, and moved on. But why should anyone think that his negative judgment and dismissal is infallible?

Anthony then talks about his struggles in the Christian life. All of this is perfectly understood and familiar to Christians. St. Paul himself talks about it in Romans 7, and then gives the solution in Romans 8. But that we all fall short and fail many times, in many ways, is not some big bombshell. Nor is it any argument against Christianity, because the latter teaches us to expect this. Faith is a lifelong struggle.

I’m going to focus on the building string of doubts that led me to examine, and ultimately abandon, my faith.

Great. Let’s see if they are compelling for any reader to think likewise.

. . . my wife was determined to complete her education. After getting eligible to transfer, she decided to attend San Jose State to get an accounting degree. While she was there, she took a class in the Religious History, and possibly one more focused on Western religion. The professor was also a pastor who was, to me, very liberal. He taught about the history of the development of the doctrine of hell. He taught how the prophets were used to enable rulers to motivate their soldiers to commit atrocities they would otherwise not ever consider. He taught the very human side of religion.

. . . It brought her faith deeply into question.

And so this is the oft-heard story. Christians go to college, get confronted with skeptical or atheist professors, in a very lopsided scenario, and lose their faith, if they are insufficiently equipped (i.e., lacking in apologetics knowledge: my field) to take on skeptical challenges to it. Again, “we are what we eat.” If she sat there and took in all this rotgut from the professor, and never read a Christian refutation of it, then why should anyone be surprised that she goes the route of the professor? One must read the best proponents of both sides of major disputes: not one side only or the best proponents of one side vs. the worst on the other (which is the usual atheist game: they love to wrangle with ignorant, uninformed Christians). This is why I love to have dialogues on my blog. I present the other person’s words for my readers to see: and if not all of them, I always provide a link and urge them to read the whole article, and then see my response.

We attended a bible study. By our second or third time, she was asking more questions. I don’t remember the last question she asked, but it froze the room. You could have heard a pin drop. She got a soft-shoed answer and the pastor rushed past it as quickly as he could.

Unfortunately, many pastors and priests are as undereducated in apologetics as the laypeople.

She never went to church again. She announced she was agnostic and didn’t believe what I believed.

All we know about her story is that she heard some skeptical stuff, started asking “hard” questions that were unanswered. We don’t know whether she actually took the time to read good Christian apologetics or philosophy. Consequently, there is nothing there that should persuade any other Christian to cease being so.

It is a fact that people, to an overwhelming degree, adopt the religious tradition of their culture. To them it is accepted fact.

Sociologically, that is very true. The problem with making it an exclusively anti-Christianity argument, however, is that atheists act in largely the same way. That’s why kids lose their Christian faith in college. They’re surrounded by liberal, skeptical or atheist professors who undermine their faith and don’t give both sides of the story (i.e., they are immersed in a different “culture”, and so — unsurprisingly — adopt it). The “smart people” seem to be against Christianity in that environment, and the few informed Christians are too scared to speak out (and today are even shut up and shouted down). No one wants to be seen as the oddball or outsider, so they lose their faith: not usually because of objective intellectual inquiry and reading the best of both worldviews, but because of sheer peer pressure and being subjected to one view (propaganda) over and over. They become politically liberal for the same reason.

Atheists like to think that they arrive at their view solely through reason, while Christians soak in theirs from their mother’s milk. But atheists are just as subject to peer pressure and environmental influence as anyone else. Most worldviews (whether Christian or atheist) are arrived at far more for social (and emotional) reasons than intellectual. I can’t emphasize it enough: “we are what we eat.”

Because of this cultural indoctrination, the only way to objectively examine your faith is to take the position of an outsider from a different culture and examine your faith with the same level of skepticism you treat other religions.

Conversely, the only way to objectively examine one’s atheism is to interact with an outsider from Christianity (someone like me, willing and able to do it) and examine your axioms and premises with the same level of skepticism that one treats Christianity. I am offering Anthony and any other atheist the opportunity to do that in this very paper.

There was a point during my cycle of failure and repentance that I wondered why on earth I would rush to the writings of Paul (specifically Romans 5-8) to restore my spirit rather than to Jesus. One was an apostle, but one was actually God, as I understood it. The modern salvation transaction as we’re taught it was never all that clear in Paul’s writings, and not at all in the words attributed to Jesus.

That is, the fundamentalist Protestant version of salvation, which is out of touch with even historic Protestantism, let alone Catholicism and Orthodoxy . . . I agree that this warped version is never taught by either Jesus or St. Paul.

So I began to spend more time with the words of Jesus, thinking that if I can’t find what I need from the words of my god walking upon the earth, the words of an apostle would not help me. To shorten the story, reading the words attributed to Jesus turned me into a social liberal. The Jesus in the bible is compassionate to the poor, destitute, and irredeemable, in stark contrast to the modern Christian, who, if they follow the culture, would sooner tell the poor to get a job and wave the flag of meritocratic individualism.

Pitting Paul against Jesus is plain silly. There is no essential difference in what they taught (which is perhaps why Anthony never provides any example of such alleged divergence). They simply taught in different ways. Jesus was the storyteller: more like a pastor (therefore, much better understood by the common man), whereas Paul was systematic and more abstract: like a theologian or academic: more like philosophy. But making false dichotomies is very typical of the sort of Protestant milieu that Anthony was part of.

The next issue I faced was the issue of evolution. I was a Young Earther, but the more I read, the more I realized that the science wasn’t a conspiracy, but rather an accurate representation of the way the world actually worked. But it didn’t lead to my faith deserting me. All truth is God’s truth. I figured, therefore, that Genesis was an allegory. My theory was that as long as Christ rose from the dead, then Christianity was true. It wouldn’t matter if Genesis was an allegory or literal. Jesus = salvation. The rest is interpretation.

In the same vein, I decided the flood of Noah was also allegory, as it was scientifically impossible. Australia itself stands as a testament to the unreality of it.

This is very typical of many deconversion stories, where the person came out of fundamentalism. Anthony was a young-earther. I never was that, nor was I ever a fundamentalist or anti-science in my evangelical days (1977-1990).  But the solution to these errors is not to ditch any literalism in the Bible and go to an all-allegorical position. The solution is to recognize that the Bible contains many genres of literature, and to determine which is occurring in a particular place. That’s how normal language and literature work. The problem is that fundamentalists and skeptics alike start treating the Bible as if it isn’t subject to the normal rules of interpretation of literature. And so Anthony was knee-jerk and simplistic regarding the Bible. He went from one extreme error to another on the opposite side of the spectrum.

There are, of course, many old-earth evolutionist Christians. They simply believe that God had some hand in the process of evolution. The choice isn’t “godless, materialistic atheism vs. young-earth creationism. I denied the universality of Noah’s flood over 30 years ago, as a result of reading a Christian book about science (by Baptist scholar Bernard Ramm). Why should that cause anyone to lose their Christian faith, pray tell?

So being in this strange place, with only the resurrection of Jesus Christ to keep me in the fold, I came to a full on crisis of faith. I won’t go heavily into it now, . . . 

He can, of course, divulge whatever he wants, but the fact remains that we are given no solid, compelling, cogent reasons why he should have forsaken Christianity, or why anyone else should do so. Because he was a fundamentalist extremist, those who never were that (like myself) should also leave Christianity: even the forms of it vastly — essentially —  different from Anthony’s anti-intellectual fundamentalism?

I searched for the best apologetics book I could find, settling on Norman Geisler’s I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be an Atheist. 

I commend him for at least reading one book from the Christian perspective, against atheism. Of course, different authors have different emphases, styles, and particular philosophies. So it may have simply been a case where Geisler (a fine apologist) wasn’t a good “fit” for him.

I gave God first shot at me and read Geisler. I expected to be strengthened – steeled for my encounter with the atheist, able to find a way to keep my faith and work on my anger. Instead I took 30 pages (steno pad) of notes. I could easily formulate my wife’s answers to his arguments without even trying. I was disappointed and borderline devastated. I read Loftus’s book. Another 20 pages of notes later I set down his book and realized that 1) I didn’t know what I did believe, and 2) I was sure it wasn’t the god of the bible.

So John Loftus did the trick.

I was unmoored. I tried another apologist, thinking that maybe Geisler wasn’t the best to read. Loftus had referenced William Lane Craig, so I started reading one of his books. About 40% of the way through, I gave up. It was over. I sat at my desk and said to myself, “I’m an atheist.” And here I am today.

Craig is also a fine Christian thinker and debater. But it also depends what particular place we are at in our thinking: how much we will be influenced.

I do wonder why — if John Loftus’ atheist polemics are so compelling –, he is so extremely hyper-sensitive (and I do not exaggerate at all, believe me) to any critique of them? I have examined his “outsider test of faith” argument (ten years ago), some of his irrational criticisms of the Bible, and his story, and he went ballistic. This hardly suggests a confident atheism, willing to take on all critiques:

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Loftus is very much like the preacher that is often maligned in atheist deconversion accounts: the guy who loves to hear himself talk, unopposed, who wilts at the first counter-challenge. That has always been what John Loftus does, in my experience. And he has a colorful set of epithets and insults, too, that he sent my way for having the audacity to challenge him in his infallible wisdom. If his atheist apologetic is so unvanquishable, let him stand up and defend it like a man and honest thinker. But (at least with me) he has never done so. Thus, I am utterly unimpressed by his thinking (and demeanor). I have atheist friends who are embarrassed by him, because he conducts himself like such a rude and pompous ass. He’s not exactly a good representative or figurehead for atheism.
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In conclusion, I don’t see anything here in this deconversion story that would compel anyone else to forsake Christianity. At best it is an account that raises serious questions about extreme fundamentalist Christianity, which I fully agree with. But since that is merely one fringe element of Christianity, it is irrelevant as to the truthfulness of larger Christianity, let alone atheism as a supposedly superior and more rational and cogent alternative worldview.
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Photograph by “||read||” (5-28-09) [Flickr / CC BY 2.0 license]

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(9-20-07)

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“DagoodS” is a friendly atheist with whom I have had many enjoyable dialogues in the past (usually about alleged biblical contradictions) [later we met in person several times]. Recently on his blog I asked him if he could write out his “deconversion” story for me to critique, and he has commenced doing so. His words will be in blue:

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Where is your deconversion story? May I critique it, or would you be likely to get all angry and throw a hissy-fit like John Loftus did when I critiqued his? :-)

I highly suspect you would not, based on my pleasant past experience in discussions with you, but it never hurts to ask. I didn’t think he would get angry, either, based on his sublime, lofty rhetoric on good discourse, posted on his blog.

. . . There is something to be said for good old-fashioned flat-out disagreements talked about amiably. That’s about as rare as ice on the sun anymore, sadly . . . but it’s something that all open-minded thinkers of any stripe hold in common. Thus I can feel that affinity with you (as I would with, e.g., the ancient Greeks), despite disagreements on theism, etc.

I have never written out, nuts-to-bolts, my deconversion story. Partly because it is not that interesting, partly because I am far more interested in the arguments themselves, not necessarily the background of the person (hence my own background fades in importance), and partly because it seems sowellnarcissist, perhaps? Does the world really care as to the mechanics of yet another deconvert?

I am uncertain what there is to critique. I am on fairly safe ground to presume you think I did something wrong, because I ended up a non-theist, and you are a theist. Where is the surprise in that?

But if you are truly THAT interested, I can put together something. It would help to know what you are looking to critique. Do you want me to start with being born in a log cabin I built with my own hands? Do you only want the point from There is something rotten in Denmark or where?

Thanks.

Yep, I’m highly interested indeed. Since I consider you one of the best, most reasonable atheist dialogue partners I have encountered, I’m very curious as to the actual process that led to your forsaking of Christianity. And of course I want to critique that (as you would expect, me being an apologist and all) and try to show that the reasons were inadequate.

. . . what I am interested in the most in your deconversion story [is] the validity or invalidity of the arguments that brought about your change.

Thanks for being willing to put something together for my sake.

I’d like to see exactly what you believed — broadly speaking — as a Christian (what tradition), and then see exactly what caused you to lose confidence in that worldview and how that process worked.

I think it would be good for you to sort out your own thoughts and opinions and give them a form that you can present to others. I know that always helps me when I am trying to clearly express something or other in my writing. You get it down on paper and then it is good for future reference and for “taking stock” of where you have been and where you are now.

[The first installment of his deconversion — dealing only with his childhood — was then posted on his blog; please read before continuing, or my replies will be considerably more difficult to follow]

Certainly this couldn’t be the level of sophistication and complexity that you had of what Christian theology teaches about God as you got older . . .

God as a ticked-off babysitter of errant adolescents trying to get one more ride on the Demon Drop?

No; I refuse to believe that this will be the sort of thing that ultimately made you become an atheist. I look forward to your future installments, whereby you show me that you have / had a decent adult understanding of Christian theology and the Christian worldview.

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Dave Armstrong, I had hoped that one could see a bit more depth than a childhood tale of Cedar Point. (Liked the reference to the Demon Drop.) . . .

Do you see what I did as a child? I created a God in my own image. I (generally) liked the rules with an occasional infraction. My God liked the rules with an occasional infraction. I tended to be rebellious, and lo and behold, what does my God like? A child with a bit of rebellion in him.

Is that not what most humans do? If they believe by faithby golly their God likes faith. If they are an intellectby golly their God is proven by logic and reason. Hate gays; so does their God. Love gays; so does their god. If their God makes them lose their job; it is a punishment, or a testing or an opportunity. Because that is what they would do as a God.

While this may be a very simplistic childish depiction of God, coming out of a simple childish human, it is only the greater sophistication of adulthood, and greater ability to rationalize that creates a greater god. The god may change, but the method stays the same.

I fear my presentation of subtlety is not going to get any better. Hey YOU are the one that started me on this jag; are you complaining already? grin

This is one of the standard, garden variety atheist arguments: religion is simply infantile projection and thinking. Adults grow out of that and get smart and become atheists, but alas, Christians and other theists stay infantile.

If that is where you are going with this, then I am not impressed. I never am with the “psychological” argument against Christianity as a crutch or mere projection, etc.

I want to see if you had (as an adult), an intelligent, self-consistent apologetic and theological understanding. And why you rejected that; not simply psychological analysis.

The god may change, but the method stays the same.

Of course I dispute this. Many people may well indeed think like this (I don’t deny it; lotsa folks think all kinds of goofy things) but that is irrelevant to the truth claims of Christianity. It only reveals truths about these peoples’ method or interior disposition, not about Christianity itself. And hence it is irrelevant.

Unless you deny that Christianity makes truth claims that can be objectively weighed and then accepted or rejected, we can’t talk about it at all. What do I care about the psychological states of other people in relation to God (i.e., as a totality of why they believe or disbelieve in God, wholly apart from theological considerations and propositions)? How does that resolve whether there is a God or not, to the slightest degree?

Besides, if you want to play the game like that, the tables can be turned, and we can argue that many atheists become that because they had no father or a lousy relationship with their fathers, and projected this onto God, and hence rejected Him. Psychiatrist Paul Vitz has made this very argument:

The Defective Father Psychological Theory of Atheism / Christian Emotionalism and Fideism

I wrote in the above paper, near the end:

Paul Vitz’s argument is a completely justifiable rhetorical, turning-the-tables tactic along the lines of “you wish to argue that Christians are psychologically warped and in need of infantile crutches?; very well then, I submit the same sort of speculations a, b, and c with regard to atheism.” Such an argument, it should be noted, does not necessarily mean that the one making it agrees with all (or even any) of the content.

. . . It is always easier, it seems, to dish out a particular criticism (the psychological arguments as to why Christians hold their beliefs) than it is to see its possible relevance to one’s own view. I readily admit that some Christians do indeed need psychological crutches (but so what, I say; who cares about the poorest representatives of any view?). But I have seen precious little of atheists admitting similar types of shortcomings to any extent amongst atheists. I maintain that the percentage of psychological abnormality is likely to be the same in both groups.

 

* * * * *

Micah Cowan is another former evangelical Protestant, now atheist (see his views on religion). His words will be in green:

If DagoodS had concluded that his theological understanding had been intelligent and self-consistent, he would not have rejected it; that’s kind of the whole point.

That doesn’t follow. Consistency is only one test of truth. The truth or falsity of premises is equally important (and how one arrives at them, etc., and what axioms one accepts and why). If the premises are rejected, then the consistent system built upon them is also rejected.

What I was driving at was whether DagoodS even had a decently consistent, cogent worldview as a Christian. I want to know how much he thought through things then, while he still had his Christian presuppositions.

Did he only really start seriously thinking in a skeptical direction? If so, then to compare his later view to his incomplete and insufficient earlier view would be unfair. One would have to compare it with a theistic view that had been appropriately and sufficiently thought through: the best of one school against the best of the other.

It tells us nothing of the truth or falsity of Christianity or of theism for DagoodS to simply tell us that he gave up one inadequate, fallacious, inconsistent worldview for another. I will be examining what he used to believe very closely. So far we have gotten psychology, which proves nothing whatever by means of ontology and metaphysics.

Christians, especially those who had primarily “happy and rewarding” experiences with Christianity, generally become Ex-Christians only through the conviction that all Christian theological and apologetic understanding is fundamentally inconsistent.

But presuming that they didn’t believe their own Christian views (when they held them) were absurd and incoherent, this is where they changed their mind: from believing that they had a consistent system, then reversing that opinion. But why did they do it? Something objective has to be present to cause them to reject one system for another (if we can talk at all about it).

So the answer to your question, by definition, is “no”, he did not have an intelligent and self-consistent apologetic and theological understanding,

That doesn’t follow, because it makes no sense. Obviously, if he was a thinker at all, he must have thought that his old belief-system had coherence and was plausible while he held it. Then he rejected it for whatever reasons he shall reveal to us in due course. He either held that sort of belief and rejected it, or did not have anywhere near a self-consistent, respectable Christian belief-system.

My job is to show that the reasons he gives for rejecting Christianity fail. I’ve done that with his first observation: the psychological stuff. It not only fails; it is no argument at all to become a Christian or atheist or cross-eyed vegetarian homosexual Rastafarian.

From reading your past several comments, two things are becoming apparent to me: one is that you do not seem to be remotely open to the possibility that he could actually have a sound and reasonable conclusion that has lead to his deconversion;

It would be quite difficult for a Christian to hold such a view. But I’m looking to see what his reasons are precisely because I respect his thinking abilities. Likewise, any atheist worth his or her salt cannot admit, by definition, that a Christian has sufficient reason to adopt that view. That’s just the nature of competing propositions. It has nothing necessarily to do with arrogance or intolerance or anything of the sort (though it could in certain hands).

your very request for a deconversion story made it clear that your aim was to discredit, and not to evaluate for reason, rationality or truth.

If DagoodS succeeds in showing us why we all ought to reject Christianity and proves his case, then I will be more than happy to join him in the atheist fold.

In other words, you already have the truth, so anyone who holds an opposing view could not possibly be right.

I believe what I hold to be true, just as an atheist does. No difference. One always holds open the possibility that another view could be more correct. I’ve yet to see an atheist argument that persuaded me; atheists haven’t seen a persuasive Christian argument. No difference again. So why stress such a moot point that applies to everyone? Everyone believes something.

For this reason, I was mildly surprised that DagoodS actually responded with a deconversion story (though he has not yet completed doing so ;) ). There is little to be gained in presenting arguments to someone who has already indicated an unwillingness to listen.

If DagoodS thinks that of me, I shall leave his blog and never comment here again, nor interact with him. But that is up to him to decide, not you or anyone else. He hasn’t been persuaded by Christian arguments, either. I fail to see the essential difference. Because he hasn’t yet, therefore he must be closed-minded and has already made up his mind, etc.? It doesn’t follow. One can be open-minded, but simply not persuaded of something else.

I’ve changed my mind about many major things. I used to believe in the occult and pro-choice and was virtually a secularist, then an evangelical, then a Catholic. I was far more politically and sexually liberal in the past. So I don’t need the smarmy lectures about being closed-minded until you learn more about my own past history of being persuaded of different viewpoints.

If I know anything from what I’ve seen of DagoodS’ refreshingly modest style of writing, then I can confidently state that he, on the other hand, is willing to be proved wrong.

So am I, as I just proved from my own past history. You can’t demonstrate that he is any more open than I am to changing his mind. You really think it is likely he will become a Christian again? It’s not very likely. Nor is it that I will become an atheist. Doesn’t mean people can’t talk.

He is willing to honestly evaluate arguments and points being made to him, but has found them so far to be wanting.

Exactly the same in my case, and you can’t prove any differently. You act as if Christian arguments and apologetics MUST be closed-minded and couldn’t be otherwise. But that is sheer emotional bias.

But by now he is also battle-wizened, and I doubt he will spend much effort towards attempting to convince the obviously inconvincible.

Again, that is up to him, not you. I enjoy my dialogues with him. If he finds me wearisome and invincibly ignorant and intellectually obstinate, then he can say so, instead of a third party speculating about such things.

The other thing that is apparent to me is that you are expecting people to come up with convincing arguments against God, where in fact Ex-Christians never have those (it is logically impossible to disprove God).

I never stated such a thing. I’m interested in why DagoodS rejected Christianity: on what basis? Many things appear to be “apparent” to you about me that simply aren’t true, or don’t follow.

Instead, they are people who have become convinced that there are no substantial arguments for God, and realize that a rational person must not presume that something exists until a reasonable case can be made that it does.

I will read on with great interest. Thanks for the lecture. How, alas, could I have lasted another day (or live with myself) without it?

* * * * *

Thank you, micah cowan for your outstanding and encouraging post.

Well, I suppose it would be if someone says you are the greatest open-minded thinker since Socrates and runs your opponent down as intolerably dogmatic. I shall wait and see if you accept his jaded speculations in his “outstanding post” about my interior states of mind as well. If so, then our days of discussion are numbered.

Dave Armstrong wanted my story, as it were. Yes, I could write, My Christian Doctrine Held X and here are all the arguments for and the arguments against. I was persuaded by the arguments against. Next, my Christian Doctrine Held Instead I decided to dive headlong into self-absorbed narcissism and write my story in such a way that it would be of interest to people who already knew me AND would not quite be the same boring historical account.

Then it may not be for me, since I was interested in what you claimed to be centered upon: “I am far more interested in the arguments themselves.”

Simply put I am unabashedly writing my own story in my own idiom. Because it is my story, there will be bits that are not persuasive, bits that seem silly, and bits that may not conform to internet debate. I would dearly love to write how I read Eusebius entire works by age 8, read both Koine Greek and Hebrew by age 9, and was translating Coptic Manuscripts by age 11.

Good for you. A thirst for knowledge . . .

No, Dave Armstrong, I was not saying that all Christianity is infantile projection or thinking. (Some Christians do. But, as you correctly point out, this is a mark of humanity, not Christianity. Some atheists, agnostics, skeptics, deists, Jews and any other theistic demarcation do as well.)

Good. One remark near the end sounded to me like this was going to be the central thesis of the deconversion. I’m happy to see that is not the case.

Unless you deny that Christianity makes truth claims that can be objectively weighed and then accepted or rejected, we can’t talk about it at all.

Ah and there we return to the perpetual question between you and I, eh? Weighed by whom? Accepted or Rejected by whom?

You and I. Unless we agree upon some objective standards at the presuppositional and axiomatic levels, then we can’t talk in terms of competing and disputing opposing ideas.

I agree that Christianity makes truth claims. I agree that those claims can be weighed objectively by neutral parties. And those claims can be accepted or rejected by neutral parties.

There are no neutral parties. But admitting that does not mean that therefore no objective discussion is possible. If that is your position, then all discussion is futile. You’re just preaching to the choir, in which case, it would be perfectly ridiculous for me to offer my respectful dissent as a Christian outsider to your worldview.

But you used to hold something akin to my worldview, and that is what interests me. If you’re out there saying that Christianity fails because of a, b, c, and d, and no one in your former circles could ever answer your hard questions, etc., then I should think you would be happy that I am here to fill that role that you longed for someone to fill and never found. And my interest is in showing Christians that your arguments against Christianity fail, just as you think there are no compelling arguments in favor of Christianity.

But you claim (if I recall. And I do) that there ARE no such thing as neutral parties.

Yes! I did it again right now! Good memory.

If we have no neutral parties, how can Christianity’s claims be objectively weighed?

To the best of our abilities, fairly, and with as much rational objectivity as non-neutral parties can muster up. That’s how it is in any field of study. It’s just how it is. There ain’t no clean slates.

Which one of us denies Christianity makes truth claims that can be objectively weighed?

You, if you believe that because no one is perfectly objective, therefore objective propositions cannot be discussed with a modicum of attempted objectivity. I am not nearly that epistemologically skeptical. I simply admit the truism that we all have biases and axioms, and all have unproven and unprovable assumptions. That actually is a commonality between atheists and theists, but oftentimes the atheist will pretend that he has no such axioms, which is absurd.

***

I had set about critiquing the deconversion story of atheist DagoodS. He actually started writing it at my request. Alas, now that he has barely started to get to some actual reasons why he or anyone else should reject Christianity, he is expressing such trepidation, and predicting that I won’t agree with his reasoning (wow, what a revelation there!) that I have no choice but to back out altogether.

I have less than no desire to find myself embroiled in another tremendous controversy (a la the sad fiasco with John Loftus) over daring to disagree with an atheist’s reasoning (i.e., insofar as it is at all) for why he is an atheist. I’m tired of (usually needless) controversy, period. I’ve had enough of that with the anti-Catholics and was seeking some good discussion. But if there is ill feeling and uneasiness it just isn’t worth it for me. I’m sick to death of it.

DagoodS even incorporated the recent controversy over my referring to an anti-Catholic as an “ass” (thoroughly deserved and justified, and on biblical grounds) as supposedly evidence that my reasoning was no better than the goofy legalist fundamentalism that he forsook in due course. Clever, original, and nice try (one can’t help but admire the eccentricity  of it), but no cigar there. Here is the latest exchange on his blog (his words in blue):

Using Pharisees as a justification for calling another person names? Those legalistic fundamentalists are nodding and slapping themselves on the back with approval of this tactic.

Come on! This is hardly even original. [ link ] (Although I ask a good question in that blog. Just because you have a right to do it, do you have to do it?)

Dave Armstrong, I am telegraphing that I believe you will be disappointed in our discussion. I have considered, off and on, writing my deconversion story. Your offer to critique it was obviously just the spur I needed to do so. Thank you.

But Part of my job entails predicting outcomes. The smart money is predicting that you will find that I had the wrong sort of Christianity. That is not terribly interesting to me. Whether I was, in your estimation, 99% correct or 99% incorrect, it is my past. Absent a time machine, there is nothing I can do about it.

If that is the conclusion, as I strongly suspect it will be, I can only shrug. (Remember, I think ALL Christianity is theologically incorrect, so telling me [again] my former belief was wrong is not exactly a news flash.)

I can only move forward; not backward. So where do I go from here? I would think the best route would be to inspect what you claim is the most correct Christianity; presumably yours.

And as I look at yours, I am not convinced. Calling someone an ass is not prone to generate peace. It is not edifying. Rom. 14:19. It is not loving another. It is not loving your enemy. It is not helpful for building up others. Eph. 4:29.

But I guess none of that means much to you. You think you are justified to do so, and will hold your ground in that regard, no matter what. (Again, the legalistic fundamentalists nod their heads in approval.)

I see this eventually ending with you telling me that my Christianity is wrong. I shrug. You then inform me your Christianity is correct. I look at it, and likewise shrug. If that is correct Christianity, I was unconvinced by it when I believed in a god. I am sure to be even less convinced now that I do not.

Hi DagoodS,

Very well, then. I’ll stop critiquing now and stop reading further installments. It’s obviously too sensitive to you and I’d like to discuss other things, so I will desist.

You haven’t dealt with my reasoning. You simply restated your opinion, but it is no better now than it was the first time. If Jesus can describe someone as a “viper” when they richly deserve it, then I can call someone a donkey when they richly deserve it. Sin can be rebuked. That is quite biblical.

If I sinned in doing so, then so did Jesus. If Jesus didn’t, then there are times one can do this and I didn’t sin, either, since I have more than abundant reason to call this person an ass.

Not only can it be rebuked, but we are commanded again and again to avoid divisive people who engage in worthless conversation:

2 Timothy 3:2-5 For men will be lovers of self, . . . proud, arrogant, abusive, . . . implacable, slanderers, . . . swollen with conceit . . . Avoid such people . . .

1 Timothy 1:4, 6 . . . nor to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies which promote speculations rather than the divine training that is in faith . . . vain discussion . . .

2 Timothy 2:14 . . . avoid disputing about words which does no good, but only ruins the hearers.

Titus 3:9-11 But avoid stupid controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels over the law, for they are unprofitable and futile. As for a man who is factious, after admonishing him once or twice, have nothing more to do with him, knowing that such a person is perverted and sinful; he is self-condemned.

Romans 16:17 Mark them which cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine ye have learned; and avoid them.

2 Timothy 2:23 Have nothing to do with stupid, senseless controversies; you know that they breed quarrels.

1 Timothy 6:3-5 If anyone teaches otherwise and does not agree with the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching which accords with godliness, he is puffed up with conceit, he knows nothing; he has a morbid craving for controversy and for disputes about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, base suspicions, and wrangling among men who are depraved in mind and bereft of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain.

There are tons of passages with biblical rebukes. According to your mentality, you would have to say that all of them are sinful and improper and unethical. For example:

Philippians 3:17-19 Brethren, join in imitating me, and mark those who so live as you have an example in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is the belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.

I am telegraphing that I believe you will be disappointed in our discussion.

And that is why it’s doomed and I’ve already gotten out of it. Your choice.

2017-03-31T17:43:30-04:00

AngryMan13

Photograph by Jessica Flavin (2-6-08) [Wikimedia CommonsCreative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license]

*****

I ran across a typical [former Catholic] “angry atheist” sub-type on my blog (note that I’m not saying that all atheists are angry and anti-theist, but there is a large group that is). I immediately banned him when I saw his comment (which — needless to say — made not the slightest attempt to interact with my article) because it broke my discussion rules and the standard I set on my sites: it was uncivil, uncharitable, insulting, bigoted, and plain stupid, along with lacking any substance that we could actually constructively discuss. Here it is, from “Simon”: on 3-7-17, complete with his photograph:

Hi all – proud atheist here (deconverted from Christianity/Catholicism).

No human with a sound-reasoning brain will ever be able to justify the existence of an all-loving benevolent creator. You seriously have to be bat-sh*t crazy and delusional. Acceptance of reality is quite a liberating experience, I assure you… because when you finally DO accept reality, photos like this suddenly make perfect sense.

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I replied:

Nice try. This is so ridiculous, it’s difficult to believe that you actually sincerely think something so ludicrous. I won’t reciprocate the insult of delusional and being outside of reality (stock anti-theist boilerplate), but it is certainly beyond absurd and a substitute for solid reasoning minus the potshots and slanders.

The irony is that on this site, you did encounter a Christian who is more than able to interact with atheists and to provide for you the reasons you falsely think I can’t give, or that anyone can give. You’ve stumbled upon a professional Catholic apologist, who has written 49 books and over 2000 online articles, including hundreds about atheism or subjects connected with that in some way.

But because of your condescending demeanor I don’t have the slightest interest in continuing with you. My papers remain available for you to read if you lower yourself to reading Christian materials explaining why we Christians believe what we do. I suffer fools very badly, I’m afraid.

And of course you have to be banned, for massive violation of my policy for civil discussion and mutual respect on a personal level. But your comment will remain up as an absolutely classic display of the stereotypical and very common “angry atheist.”

Thanks for stopping by, and may the random collisions of atoms bless you henceforth.

Simon then replied on his site, citing my words in rebuke when I banned him. He is sure that he has proven that I’m the typical hypocritical Christian, as he sees it. Well, you be the judge of that. There is a time for a rebuke. It’s a perfectly biblical thing, but I wouldn’t expect this person to know that in the first place.

Anyway, he put up his reply, entitled, “Dave Armstrong, Catholic Apologist is Delusional” (3-16-17). You get the picture already from the title. But it’s even more sad and informative to read his entire piece. I cite all of it below, minus his citation of me (my words above). Then I reply at the end (which was posted on his page). I spare my readers the photos and videos that he also included.

*****

I’ll admit that I didn’t exactly kick things off in a civil manner, but let’s face it – sometimes you need a little shock value to get your point across.  Civil discussion gets you nowhere when it comes to making a point about how absolutely ridiculous religious belief really is…  and I also wanted to push some buttons to see how those almighty religious folk would react.  (Spoiler alert – they didn’t act very Christ-like)

So, now that I’ve admitted to being a smartass…

What happens when you tell a “believer” that he is bat shit crazy for believing that there is a flying spaghetti monster in the sky arbitrarily blessing some while leaving others to be fed upon by vultures?

*
He doesn’t behave in any way like a Christian (What would Jesus do???).  He doesn’t offer any prayers for your soul.  He doesn’t have patience, temperance, or compassion for your seemingly confused, misguided ways.  What Dave Armstrong does is the same thing most chimpanzees do when you roll up onto their turf and start throwing rocks:  he throws rocks right on back.  I’m not surprised. This is typical primate behavior.  Here I was thinking these religious folks were supposed to behave in a Christ-like way.  Nope.

He, like every other sufferer of cognitive dissonance, resorts to name calling and behavior that would otherwise get his ass knocked out if tried to pull it off face to face in public (I triple dog dare ya, Davey).  He arrogantly points out how he’s the PROFESSIONAL Catholic apologist who has written 49 books and over 2000 online articles – like that’s supposed to mean something to me???  
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By the way folks – Dave’s blog – the one from which I have been delightfully banned (like I give a shit) has apparently won AWARDS!!!  You hear that?  AWARDS!!
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All hail Catholic apologist, Dave.
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I’m laughing Dave.  At you.
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I can just imagine what it would be like if Jesus had a blog and acted like you:
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“The irony is that on this site you encountered THE SON OF GOD — you hear me??  THE SON OF GOD.  I am Jesus Christ!  This is the Son of God’s blog!  No angry, absurd atheists allowed!  There is an entire testament in the Bible written all about ME!!!  You know – the Bible?? That book that is the inerrant word of my dad???  How dare you, you typical, angry atheist!!! You violated my policy of not being nice and not believing in me, so I’m banning you from my blog (and Heaven) FOREVER!!!!”
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Oh man, Dave.  I was right – you ARE bat shit crazy.
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You think I’m an angry atheist, but I’m actually a very, very well educated gentleman who was raised Roman Catholic and at one time considered the priesthood myself.  I’m at peace – finally – for the first time in my life.  I used to attend mass every day before school – Catholic school – attended from grade school all the way through high school.  I’ve studied every world religion, culture, and philosophy.  It took me 35 years of life and a dedicated pursuit of knowledge and scientific/historic inquiry to finally resolve the massive conflict in my big beautiful brain – a conflict caused by a belief system that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
*
The fact that I am:
 
  1. Ambitious and passionate enough to read – HUNDREDS – of history, science, anthropology, psychology, and philosophy books in my pursuit of the truth
  2. Intelligent enough to digest, process, and UNDERSTAND all of the information contained in all of those books
  3. Reasonable enough to update my worldview based on the (PhD-level) amount of information that I have absorbed over the years
  4. Still living a beautiful, honorable, moral life in light of my deep understanding of existence
Well, I think that makes me the poster child for human evolution and advancement.
That is all.

*****

Nice try. You’re clearly very impressed with yourself. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. But I’m sure you act very differently with your atheist friends than with us troglodyte Christians, so I don’t get the full picture. Maybe one day you can get past your prejudice and I can interact normally with that person.

I wish all the best to you, and all of God’s blessings. That’s what Christians say. I only put “atoms” last time at the end, out of a humorous impulse: knowing you didn’t believe in God and would likely mock that, since you think I’m “crazy” and “delusional” etc. This time I say it “straight”: knowing that you will likely mock whatever I say.

I’ll share this response of yours on my blog as another classic of the angry anti-theist schtick. Pathetic . . . Thanks for that (i.e., for the educational value). You’re pretty lousy PR for your position, but it’s your life . . .

If this is the sort of image atheists (of your sort) wish to project, I’m very confident that atheism will continue to be a backwater, out-of-the-mainstream, cultural phenomenon, as it has always been, unless forced on the unwilling public (Stalinist Russia, Mao’s China, etc.). For who could possibly find such a presentation appealing? Even you freely admit that you “didn’t exactly kick things off in a civil manner.” BINGO!

*****

Related Reading:

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2017-02-25T12:34:41-04:00

Further Adventures at an Atheist “Bible Study” Group

Dialogue6

Image by “josemiguels” [Pixabay / CC0 public domain]

***

(11-24-10)

*****

Last night I attended for the third time an “atheist Bible study” group in metro Detroit led by Jon, a former evangelical and friendly fellow, with whom I have debated the Galileo issue. He has a blog called Prove Me Wrong. The first time I went there, several months back, I was invited as a guest speaker. It was simply a Q and A, “grill the apologist” session (due to my dislike of lecturing as my own method of communication), mostly devoted to the usual garden-variety questions about Catholicism. Jon later described the night as follows:

I run a bible study. It’s for those interested in understanding the Bible from a secular perspective. We’re mostly atheists but we do have some Christian participation. A couple of times instead of studying the Bible I’ve simply brought in a religious person. So once Roman Catholic apologist Dave Armstrong came. A lot of atheists regard Christian belief as extremely easy to debunk and I thought it would be fun to bring in someone that has thought through common objections and is able to turn it back on atheists. Make them exercise their brains a bit. We had a great time with Dave.

That time, there were eleven atheists and myself. It was the most enjoyable and challenging evening I have ever spent as an apologist in almost 30 years of apologetics. Several of the people said that I had won their respect, by simply showing up and being cordial and willing to answer their questions and do some back-and-forth. For their part (save for just one person who was later kicked out of their group) they were very cordial and friendly.

This is not the stereotypical “angry atheist” group (example: John Loftus’ Debunking Christianity blog), with (irrational, self-contradictory) anger against God and Christianity upfront and dominating everything, complete with ubiquitous personal insults towards Christians. No; Jon, to his great credit, is trying to do something different, and to actually seek to better understand Christianity and Christian arguments and to have some real dialogue.

I went a second time and enjoyed some great discussion around a campfire (mostly with the guy who had given me the hardest time in the first meeting: insinuating that I was dishonest or ignorant or both). Then I invited Jon to my house to do a presentation on the nonexistence of Jesus (a position he holds tentatively). That went well, too, and Jon gave the following description of his experience:

I had the opportunity last Friday to sit down with some Catholics and just spend an evening discussing some of our disagreements. It was me along with another atheist (who I met for the first time) and a few Catholics. It was put together by Dave Armstrong. I really appreciate Dave. He’s one of those people that is able to sit down and disagree with me strongly, but do it in a way that makes for productive and friendly dialogue. Not all Christians can do this, nor can all skeptics.

Apparently, Jon has a somewhat more favorable view towards my reasoning abilities these days, compared to 26 March 2010, when he wrote (I tease him about this):

As far as apologists go I kind of like Roman Catholics. Dave Armstrong may be extremely irrational. But he’s always been fairly charitable.

Last night, the person doing the presentation was a guy who goes by “DagoodS”: another former Christian who runs a blog called Thoughts From a Sandwich. He is an attorney; a very animated, thoughtful, academic type (the sort of person I particularly love talking to and learning from). He talked about how Christians defend the resurrection of Jesus; playing “Christian” most of the time. It was historiographically dense (with many “footnote” references to “what scholars today think”), interesting enough, and entertaining on its own level, but ultimately not to my own taste because it was a professorial-type lecture (complete with the white board and markers). It was like being in a graduate-level history class (or maybe a Unitarian Bible study). I want to dialogue (as is well-known to my readers by now), and that never occurred. We all have our preferences.

One of the few critiques I was able to get in at all had to do with the relentless, dogmatic presuppositional skepticism of atheists. DagoodS asked the group (17 including myself) how many believed that miracles occur. I was the only one to raise my hand. Then he asked how many believed that miracles might possibly occur. Jon raised his hand, and possibly one other. Only one or two even allowed the bare possibility. This exactly illustrated the point I was to make.

DagoodS was saying that it is more difficult to believe an extraordinary miracle or event than to believe in one that is more commonplace. True enough as far as it goes. But I said (paraphrasing), “you don’t believe that any miracles are possible, not even this book raising itself an inch off the table, so it is pointless for you to say that it is hard to believe in a great miracle, when in fact you don’t believe in any miracles whatsoever.” No response. I always try to get at the person’s presuppositions. That is my socratic method.

This being the case, for an atheist (ostensibly with an “open mind”) to examine evidence for the Resurrection of Jesus, is almost a farcical enterprise from the start (at least from a Christian perspective) because they commence the analysis with the extremely hostile presuppositions of:

1) No miracles can occur in the nature of things.

2) #1 logically follows because, of course, under fundamental atheist presuppositions, there is no God to perform any miracle.

3) The New Testament documents are fundamentally untrustworthy and historically suspect, having been written by gullible, partisan Christians; particularly because, for most facts presented therein, there is not (leaving aside archaeological evidences) written secular corroborating evidence.

Some atheists (like Jon) even claim (or suspect) that Jesus didn’t exist at all (making such a topic even more absurd and ludicrous (given that premise) than it already is in atheist eyes. Yet they think that such an examination of the Resurrection is an objective endeavor on their part, as if they will come to any other conclusion than the foregone one that they have already decided long since, upon the adoption of their atheism? And we are the ones who are constantly excoriated for being so “inflexible” and “dogmatic” and “closed-minded” to any other truths besides Christian ones?

The lecture went on for two hours in the library room where the group met, and then we went to a restaurant. Over there, I wasn’t seated next to either Jon or DagoodS (there were about 13 people present), so further discussion with them wasn’t possible. Instead I talked a lot about the problem of evil and God’s supposed serious deficiencies, with a third person, with the person on the other side of me asking me intermittently about purgatory and limbo and indulgences.

I was able to get in at least one important point with Jon at the restaurant. He was making fun of the popes taking many centuries to decide the dogmatic question of the Immaculate Conception of Mary [1854]. So I noted (with some vigor) that people (not just atheists but also Protestants) are always criticizing popes (and the Church as a whole) for supposedly declaring things by fiat and with raw power, apart from rational deliberation and intellectual reflection (which is a myth), yet on the other hand, if they take centuries to let the Church reflect and ponder important issues (this example, Mary’s Assumption [1950], papal infallibility [1870]), by not yet declaring something at the highest levels of authority, then they get blasted for being indecisive and wishy-washy and lacking authority.

It was a classic case of the Catholic Church always having to be criticized, even if there are simultaneous contradictory criticisms taking place. It’s the amusing, ironic spectacle of people illogically falsely accusing us of being illogical. If we do one thing we are wrong and stupid and illogical because of thus-and-so. If we do the exact opposite and contrary of that, we are still wrong and stupid and illogical for reasons that utterly contradict those of the prior criticism. And so on and on it goes. The only thing that critics of Catholicism “know” is that the Catholic Church is always wrong. That is the bottom line. We seem to be everyone’s favorite target and “whipping boy.”

DagoodS’ specialty (like that of many atheists of a certain sort; especially former Christians) is relentlessly trying to poke holes in the Bible and dredging up any conceivable so-called “contradiction” that he can find. It’s the hyper-rationalistic, “can’t see the forest for the trees” game. As I’ve often said, such a person approaches the Bible like a butcher approaches a hog. Their mind is already made up. If they go looking for errors and “contradictions” they will assuredly always “find” them.

And if a Christian spends the great deal of laborious, tedious time required to debunk and refute these in order to show how they are not, in fact, contradictions (as I and many others have done), they simply ignore that as of no consequence and go their merry way seeking out more of the same. It never ends. It’s like a boat with a hundred holes in the bottom. The Christian painstakingly patches up the last one while the atheist on the other side of the boat merrily drills another one to patch. I’ll play the game for a while and every now and then but it is never to be taken too seriously because it is, quite literally, just a game in the end.

I have actually debated DagoodS several times in the past on the Internet, and have critiqued his deconversion story (atheists invariably despise the unmitigated gall of a Christian daring to do that!).

Now that I have met the man, and had no chance to interact with him last night for more than 90 seconds, I may try to set aside some time in my busy schedule to debunk more of his skeptical excursions undertaken for the purpose of undermining the trustworthiness and inspiration of the Holy Bible. In all likelihood, judging from his past responses, any such replies will have no effect on him, but they can help Christians see the bankruptcy of atheist anti-biblical arguments, and those on the fence to avoid falling into the same errors of logic and fallacious worldviews built upon such errors.

And that is the whole goal of apologetics, and particularly the dialogical apologetics that I specialize in: to help people (by God’s grace) avoid theological and philosophical errors and to be more confident in their Christian and Catholic beliefs, by understanding solid intellectual rationales for same. We remove obstacles and roadblocks. What the person will do with that information is a function of their minds and free wills and God’s grace, and that is out of the apologist’s hands.

Related Post

Dave Armstrong vs. the Atheists (Protestant apologist Cory Tucholski, 10 Dec. 2010, from Internet Archive)

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Meta Description: Description of a fun, friendly meeting with 16 atheists & agnostics & Catholic apologist Dave Armstrong.
Meta Keywords: atheism, agnosticism, atheists, agnostics, atheist-Christian dialogue, agnostic-Christian dialogue, miracles
2017-06-03T12:41:51-04:00

OsamaBinLaden2

Osama Bin Laden (1957-2011), from c. 1997-1998. Photograph by Hamid Mir [Wikimedia CommonsCreative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license]

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These are old Blogspot papers of mine (except for the asterisked papers). Be sure to allow a minute or two for them to load, and select archived versions from July 2015 or earlier.

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Dialogue with an Atheist on the “Problem of Good” & the Nature of Meaningfulness in Atheism (Flip Side of the Problem of Evil Argument Against Christianity) [6-5-01]*

Christian Replies to the Argument From Evil (Free Will Defense): Is God Malevolent, Weak, or Non-Existent Because of the Existence of Evil and Suffering? [2002]*

Serious Christian Treatments of the Problem of Evil and Irrational Atheist Dismissals of Them (vs. John W. Loftus) [10-9-06]

Some Christian Replies to the Problem of Evil as Set Forth by Atheists [10-10-06]

Dialogue #2 with an Atheist on the Problem of Evil (vs. “drunken tune”) [10-11-06]

Dialogue #3 with an Atheist on the Problem of Evil (vs. John W. Loftus) [10-11-06]

Alvin Plantinga’s Decisive Refutation of the Atheist Use of the Problem of Evil as a Disproof of God’s Existence, Goodness, or Omnipotence [10-12-06]*

Critique of Agnostic Ed Babinski’s Post on the “Emotional” Argument From Evil [10-23-06]

Is the “Strong” Logical Argument From Evil Largely Discredited If Not Dead, Or Alive & Well? (Atheist Confusion) [11-26-06]

The World’s Shortest Free Will Defense (FWD) Argument Against the Problem of Evil [3-24-08]

Thoughts on the Devil’s Antics in Opposing Christians, and Suffering in the Christian Life [7-18-09]

*****

Meta Description: Debates (mostly with atheists) about the thorniest problem in Christian apologetics: why a good, omnipotent God would allow evil.

Meta Keywords: evil and God, evil and God’s benevolence, evil and God’s omnipotence, fall of man, free will, free will defense, Philosophy of Religion, Problem of evil, Suffering, theodicy

2018-09-16T18:17:47-04:00

Atheist “Proof Texts” Examined (vs. Ed Babinski)

FlatEarth

A “flat-Earth” map drawn by Orlando Ferguson in 1893 [public domain / Wikimedia Commons]

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(9-17-06)
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This is a continuation of a preliminary reply to atheist Matthew Green. In the discussion thread for that post, Matthew’s friend John Loftus suggested his own paper on the topic, and two by Ed Babinski, an agnostic who is particularly interested in Bible-and-science discussions. Matthew then referred to yet another paper by Robert M. Price (one that, indeed, was important to him in his “deconversion” from Christianity).

* * * * *

Now, as usual with these sorts of generally “scattershot” treatments by atheists and agnostics, an effort is made to hit the Christian with dozens or even hundreds of separate “evidences,” the desired cumulative effect of which is supposed to be tremendously debilitating and demoralizing to the Christian. To refute such massively polemical endeavors (even if answers are easily obtainable) is always a hugely tedious affair, requiring starting from ground zero.

Then, of course, if a Christian recognizes this and doesn’t feel like replying to the mountain of alleged “counter-evidence” at any given time, he is accused of cowardice or inability to refute it, or both. Added to those dynamics are my present life situation, in which I feel a bit overwhelmed, with too many things going on, and an excessive amount of stress. In such a circumstance, the last thing one wants to do is undertake a massive research project, requiring hours of excruciating “hard research”.

That said, I do, however, desire to make some response, because the topic (like anything having to do with the Bible) is interesting, and because I think it is an opportunity to illustrate the (inevitable) severe flaws and fallacies of “atheist exegesis.” So I thought I could deal with a few selected arguments on this overall topic, and demonstrate how erroneous and wrongheaded they are. Readers can then see representative examples of the type of “reasoning” being employed against the Bible and Christian apologists who defend it, and see that – once again – it is not a case of “rational, logical, open-minded skeptic vs. gullible, anti-intellectual, closed-minded Christian.”

First of all, it is necessary to give a brief overview of the proper understanding of biblical cosmology. To do so, I shall cite a classic work on the subject, The Christian View of Science and Scripture, by the Baptist Bernard Ramm (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans, 1954, 96-102). In his section on “Biblical Cosmology” he offers a very helpful overview of many significant presupposition-level considerations (italics his own throughout) [his words will be in green]:

[T]he references of the writers of the Bible to natural things are popular, non-postulational, and in terms of the culture in which the writers wrote. This principle applies directly to Biblical cosmology. . . . Biblical cosmology is in the language of antiquity and not of modern science, nor is it filled with anticipations which the future microscope and telescope will reveal. We do not agree with over-zealous Fundamentalists who try to find Einsteinian and modern astrophysical concepts buried in Hebrew words and expressions. We also disagree with the religious liberals who object to Biblical cosmology because it is not scientific.

. . . The cosmology of the Bible is not systematized and is not postulational. It is neither for nor against any of the current and ancient theories of the universe except where they might be polytheistic or in conflict with basic Christian metaphysics. But the Bible does not support Aristotle or Ptolemy or Copernicus or Descartes or Newton or Einstein or Milne . . . it gives us no positive cosmology.

We must consider the efforts of radical critics to impose a cosmology on the Bible as an artificial, stilted, and abortive effort.

. . . [William Fairfield] Warren claims that their approach to the cosmology of the Bible is so wooden, artificial, and literal that the Bible writers would not recognize such a cosmology if it were handed them all written out on a piece of paper. If, he continues, you follow this wooden and artificial approach to the Bible you would have the Bible writers believing in a heaven made of wax or silk or goatshair! [The Earliest Cosmologies, 1909, pp. 24-32]

. . . Orr writes:

The error is to be avoided of forcing the language of popular, often metaphorical and poetic description, into the hard-and-fast forms of a cosmogony which it is by no means intended by the writers to yield.

[“World, Cosmological,” International Standard Bible Encyclopedia {“ISBE”}, V, 3106]

. . . Gaenssle, a Semitic scholar, takes the radical critics to task likewise for imposing on the Bible a stilted, artificial cosmology that is nowhere clearly and systematically taught in Scripture [“A Look at Current Biblical Cosmologies,” Concordia Theological Monthly, 23:738-749]. He singles out two basic ideas of this reconstruction of the radical critics to show that their contentions are baseless. (i) He examines the word raqia (firmament) which critics have taken to mean a solid something and indicates that its basic idea is that of thinness or tenuity. Citing Isaiah 40:22, Psalm 104:2 and Isaiah 34:4, he asks:

Can anyone with these texts before him seriously and honestly believe that the writers of these words entertained the crude inept notion of a metallic canopy above their heads?

[Footnote 38: Ibid., p. 743 . . . the greatest Hebrew scholar of the fifteenth century, Paginus, writing well before modern science translates raqia by expansionem]

The best meaning of raqia is expanse or atmosphere. (ii) He also attacks the notion that the world floats on a vast subterranean ocean . . . As for the word under in the phrase “under the earth” the Hebrew word tachath means not only under but lower. In our own day we speak of lowlands . . . :

Consequently, when the earth is said to be founded on the seas and spread out upon the waters, there is no reason to assume that the Psalmist is singing of an invisible ocean on which the earth rests or is spread out, but only of earthly waters on which the earth touches and over which it is elevated.

. . . The upper, terrestrial ocean satisfies all requirements and it lies below or beneath in the same sense as the Dead Sea lies under Mount Pisgah and the land of Moab. [Ibid., p. 747, 749]

Maunder believes that such verses as Job 22:14, Isaiah 40:22 [“It is he who sits above the circle of the earth . . .”] Proverbs 8:27 and Job 26:7 [“He stretches out the north over the void, and hangs the earth upon nothing”] amply prove that the Hebrews thought of the earth as round and suspended in nothing. The unaided eye itself sees the horizon as circular, especially the horizon of the sea. The sphericity of the sun and the moon and the roundness of the stars wold suggest to an astronomically alert people the sphericity of the earth. [E.W. Maunder, “Astronomy,” ISBE, I, 314 ff.]

. . . The pillars of the earth (Job 9:6) are the rocks that bear up the surface of the earth.

. . . It is improper to construct a so-called modern or scientific cosmology from the Biblical evidence; and it is also improper to try to model one after Babylonian concepts. In that there is no systematic exposition of a cosmology in the Bible, and in that the Bible abounds with either popular expressions or poetic expressions, it is not capable of a systematic construction with reference to a cosmology. The best we can do is to (i) indicate the freedom of the Bible from mythological polytheistic or grotesque cosmologies; (ii) note the general hostility of the Bible to cosmologies which are antitheistic; and (iii) clearly present the theocentric view of the Bible towards Nature.

It is typical of radical critics to play up the similarity of anything Biblical with the Babylonian, and to omit the profound differences or gloss over them. When the Biblical account is set side by side with any other cosmology its purity, its chasteness, its uniqueness, its theocentricity are immediately apparent.

Earlier in his book (pp. 66-67, 69-70), Ramm made an even more basic summary of biblical language in relation to science:

A. The language of the Bible with reference to natural matters is popular, not scientific. . . .

B. The language of the Bible is phenomenal. By phenomenal we mean “pertaining to appearances.” . . .

C. . . . the language of the Bible is non-postulational with reference to natural things. By this we mean that the Bible does not theorize as to the actual nature of things . . . . there is no theory of matter in the Bible. . . .

D. The language of the Bible employs the culture of the times in which it was written as the medium of revelation.

E. W. Maunder, in his article, “Astronomy,” in the ISBE (I, 314-315), notes:

The same word (hugh) used in the OT to express the roundness of the heavens (Job 22:14) is also used when the circle of the earth is spoken of (Isaiah 40:22) and it is likewise applied to the deep (Proverbs 8:27). Now it is obvious that the heavens are spherical in appearance, and to an attentive observer it is clear that the surface of the sea is also rounded. There is therefore no sufficient warrant for the assumption that the Hebrews must have regarded the earth as flat.

(1) The earth a sphere. – Certain astronomical relations were recognized very early. The stars appear as if attached to a globe rotating around the earth once in 24 hours, and this appearance was clearly familiar to the author of the Book of Job, and indeed long before the time of Abraham, since the formation of the constellations could not have been effected without such recognition. But the spherical form of the heavens almost involves a similar form for the earth, and their apparent diurnal rotation certainly means that they are not rigidly connected with the earth, but surround it on all sides at some distance from it. The earth therefore must be freely suspended in space, and so the Book of Job describes it . . . Job 26:7.

James Orr, in his article, “World” in the same work (V, 3106-3108), shows how ridiculous it is to think that the Babylonian accounts of creation have much at all to do with the sublime Genesis account. He gives the view of Berosus, a priest of Babylon in the 3rd century B.C. – later confirmed by the discovery of a tablet from the Assyrian king Assurbanipal (7th century B.C.). These show similarity also to the Greek Hesiod’s Theogony (9th cent. B.C.). All postdate the period of David and Solomon by centuries):

[F]rom Chaos came forth Earth, Tartarus (Hell), Eros (Love) and Erebus (Night). Erebus gives birth to Aether (Day). Earth produces the Heaven and the Sea. Earth and Heaven, in turn, become the parents of the elder gods and the Titans. Cronus, one of these gods, begets Zeus. Zeus makes war on his father Cronus, overthrows him, and thus becomes king of the Olympian gods. The descent of these is then traced.

The Egyptian cosmology is even more absurd and fanciful. I won’t bore readers with that account.

With this background, let’s examine some of the glaring errors and whoppers in atheist / agnostic treatment of the alleged biblical cosmology:

Edward T. Babinski, in his article, Did the Authors of the Bible Assume the Earth was Flat?, amply demonstrates the sort of “wooden” interpretation that Ramm mentioned. He writes (his words will henceforth be in blue):

“The devil took him [Jesus] up into an exceedingly high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them.” – Matthew 4:8

Shown “all the kingdoms of the world” from an “exceedingly high mountain?”
I suppose so, if the mountain was “exceedingly high” and the earth was flat.

That’s the entire argument from this passage. Note the quick and easy assumption of hyper-literalism. This can easily be refuted even from an “appearance”-based, phenomenological perspective (which was quite possible for ancient Hebrews). Thus, Christian apologist J. P. Holding, in his excellent article on the subject, writes:

Note that even on a flat earth, a high mountain would be a very poor place to observe the kingdoms of the world “in their glory.” Furthermore, if Matthew was implying that a mountain existed from which all the world was visible, then obviously, the mountain would be visible from all parts of the world, and Matthew’s reader’s would roll over laughing and throw his book in the garbage! It is ludicrous to suggest that Matthew believed such a mountain existed.

The parallel verse, Luke 4:5, provides further insight:

And the devil took him up, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, (RSV)

Alright; this is interesting. How is it, then, that Jesus could have been shown all the kingdoms of the world “in a moment of time”? It makes no sense (under this wooden, hyper-literalist conception that Ed assumes was typical of ancient Hebrews) to think that Jesus could see all the kingdoms of the world in a moment, because they would be in all four directions (indeed, anywhere in a 360 degree circle, up on a high mountain, assuming for the sake of argument only, a flat earth cosmology). Therefore, this is not a literal, physical occurrence, but rather, quite obviously a supernatural one. That being the case, it is impossible to conclude from it alone that a flat earth was the intention (at least of Luke).

Another factor that could easily be explored, is the non-scientific conception that Hebrews had of the notion of “all.” It didn’t always mean “absolutely every so-and-so, without exception.” It could quite possibly mean in many contexts, “many,” “most”, or “a great deal”. The language was pre-scientific and often proverbial, thus allowing for exceptions. Furthermore, exaggeration or hyperbole was often used. So this passage could simply be interpreted to mean “able to see a great distance and many areas / kingdoms.” If that is the case, then the necessity of a flat earth in order to make sight of literally “all” (“absolutely every”) would be rendered null and void, since the intent of the passage wasn’t literal in the first place.

But Ed, undaunted by such considerations of reason, language, and logic, and with the smile of a dupe and gullible fool on his face, gives us another similar “proof” of a flat earth:

Moreover, verses in the Bible’s book of Daniel presume a flat earth the same way that verses in Matthew do:

“I saw a tree in the midst of the earth, and the height thereof was great. The tree grew, and the height thereof reached unto heaven, and the sight thereof to the end of all the earth.”

– Daniel 4:10-11

Instead of an “exceedingly high” mountain from which “all the kingdoms of the earth” can be seen, Daniel pictures a tree “whose height was great,” growing from the “midst” or center of the earth and “seen” to “the ends of all the earth.”

Funny how such flagrantly flat-earth verses appear in both the Old and New Testaments, and both are based on the same simple idea that something “exceedingly high” or of “great height” could be seen by everyone on earth at once.

“Bible believers” like Holding will of course reply that such verses are only “apparently difficult” to explain, and not the “real truth” as they see it. But it is the “apparent difficulties” that remain in the Bible just as it was written, and they will always remain there, regardless of all the ingenuity employed in explaining them away. *smile*

Again, we have a wooden literalism, assuming that ancient Hebrews were idiots (even allowing for their pre-scientific understanding). Does this passage require an interpretation like Ed’s? Nope. It appears to be merely one of hundreds of examples of Hebrew hyperbole and exaggeration.

The context is a dream of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar. Daniel the prophet is asked to interpret it, and repeats similar language in Daniel 4:20. But note, first of all that Daniel doesn’t interpret the dream in spatial or visual terms. Rather, it represents the scope of the king’s power:

it is you, O king, who have grown and become strong. Your greatness has grown and reaches to heaven, and your dominion to the ends of the earth. (Daniel 4:22; RSV)

Now, does it take scientific knowledge for an ancient Hebrew to know that no one man was literally king over the entire earth? No, of course not. This is typically Hebraic hyperbole. It is poetic from the get-go; therefore, it is improper to anachronistically impose modern notions of cosmology onto it, or to suppose that some flat earth cosmology was at all in the mind of the writer. The highly visualized, agricultural, poetic Hebrew mindset is easily seen in a similar passage in Ezekiel (with my comments interspersed in brackets and red):

Ezekiel 31:2-3, 6, 12-13 “Son of man, say to Pharaoh king of Egypt and to his multitude: “Whom are you like in your greatness? Behold, I will liken you to a cedar in Lebanon, with fair branches and forest shade, and of great height, . . . All the birds of the air [absolutely all???] made their nests in its boughs; under its branches all the beasts of the field [absolutely every species???] brought forth their young; and under its shadow dwelt all great nations [every nation without exception?]. . . . Foreigners, the most terrible of the nations, will cut it down and leave it. On the mountains and in all the valleys [every single one?!] its branches will fall, and its boughs will lie broken in all the watercourses of the land [really? Every one?]; and all the peoples of the earth will go from its shadow [every nationality in the shadow of one tree??!!] and leave it. Upon its ruin will dwell all the birds of the air [really?], and upon its branches will be all the beasts of the field [this puts Noah’s ark to shame, doesn’t it?].

It is utterly obvious that passages like these (altogether typical in Hebrew poetry, wisdom and prophetic literature), are poetic; not meant to be taken literally at all. Only a nut or an imbecile could think otherwise with regard to the Ezekiel passage. Since the Daniel passage is pretty similar to it, it is reasonable to suppose that non-literal, non-“scientific” poetry is also in mind, particularly due to the analogous nature of both passages (great trees as a metaphor for the power of kings).

Perhaps Ed and other irrational hyper-skeptics would wish to make hay of the phrase and Hebrew concept of the “ends of the earth”? Using their hackneyed reasoning, one would opine that this (like everything else) is to be taken with wooden literalism: the earth has “ends” so it cannot be a sphere, etc. But how does that work with other verses? How about 1 Samuel 2:10: “. . . The LORD will judge the ends of the earth . . . “? God is judging the corners of the flat earth? Maybe He’ll lop them off and make the edges of the earth smooth, like the edges of an end table? What sense does that make? Clearly, the notion is of totality or very wide scope, not of spatial dimensions or appearance. Thus, the prophetic passages use wide scope to convey great influence, but not necessarily comprehensive power over every person in the entire world. How about Job 37:3?:

Under the whole heaven he lets it go, and his lightning to the corners of the earth.

(RSV, as throughout unless indicated otherwise; NIV has “ends of the earth”)

So God only sends thunderstorms to the corners or ends of the earth but nowhere else? This is Babinskian biblical hermeneutics. What mere mortal could doubt its wisdom and veracity? The profundities of it never cease to amaze one: In Psalm 2:8 God the Father gives God the Son, Jesus (it’s a messianic passage) “the ends of the earth” as His possession? Why just the “corners”? (compare Acts 13:47: only the “corners” or the “ends” of the earth will be saved??!!) In Psalm 19:4 the “voice” of the heavens (19:1) “goes out through all the earth” but the “words to the end of the world.” Compare Rom 10:18, which cites this passage. So we see that the two ways of expressing the same thought show that “end[s] of the world/earth” simply means throughout the whole earth: that is, in all four directions. The same occurs in Psalm 22:27:

All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him.

The sense of this phrase is shown in Mark 13:27:

And then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

So much for this line of reasoning. What else can Ed provide us with?

And passages in Matthew (see above) and Revelation (below), demonstrate that the flat earth assumption had by no means vanished by the time the New Testament was written.

The author of the book of Revelation wrote in flat earth fashion: “I saw four angels standing on the four corners of the earth” (Rev. 7:1);

This is more of the same ignorance. ISBE (II, 887: “Earth, Corners of the,” E.W. Maunder) explains:

The “corners” or “ends” of the earth are its “wings” . . . i.e., its borders or extremities. The word in general means a wing, because the wing of a bird is used as a covering for its young, and from this meaning it acquires that of the extremity of anything stretched out. It is thus used in Dt 22:12: “Thou shalt make thee fringes upon the four borders [wings] of thy vesture, where with thou coverest thyself.” It thus also means the coasts or boundaries of the land surface of the earth; its extremities. it is translated “corners” in Isa 11:12; “ends” in Job 37:3 and 38:13. The “four corners of the earth (Isa 11:12) or “land” (Ezk 7:2) are therefore simply the extremities of the land in the four cardinal directions.

Bernard Ramm elaborates:

[I]t speaks of “the four corners [wings] of the earth” (Isaiah 11:12) because the bisection of something into quarters is a frequent human operation and a convenient method of indicating place. To this day it is not uncommon to hear in popular speech such expressions as “from every corner of the earth” or “from all quarters of the globe.” Such expressions are neither scientific nor anti-scientific, but the popular and phenomenal expressions of daily conversations. (Ibid., 67)

But of course Ed cited only about the first third of Revelation 7:1 to begin with. Right after “four corners of the earth” the four angels are also said to be “holding back the four winds of the earth”. Thus it is seen that the meaning is again four directions, as in Mark 13:27, not literally four corners. Jeremiah 49:36 refers to “the four winds from the four quarters of heaven.” Even skeptics like Ed don’t think that the ancient Hebrew cosmology of heaven had four quarters or corners, etc. (see, e.g., the visual diagram that John Loftus provides at the top of his article). So something’s gotta give here.

Or one could cite a passage like Ezekiel 7:1-9, about judgment of Israel by the LORD. In 7:2 it states: “The end has come upon the four corners of the land.” Is God just judging the “counties” of Israel in the corners? Those people liked to live on the edge too much so they got judged? No; it means the whole land will be judged: the land in all directions. This no more means that the land of Israel was literally a square or rectangle than the phrase applied to the earth meant that it was flat and had literal corners or “ends.” The same dynamic is seen in Revelation 20:8, where Satan is said to “come out and deceive the nations which are at the four corners of the earth . . .”

Ed writes: “I should think that a perusal of the Bible should be enough to make anyone realize how naive the Bible’s view of the cosmos was.” to which I reply: I should think that a perusal of Ed’s interpretation of the Bible should be enough to make anyone realize how naive and utterly simplistic his view of biblical hermeneutics and exegesis and the intelligence of ancient Hebrews is.”

And according to Genesis 1:16 only “two” great lamps (the Hebrew term translated as “great lights” in Genesis, means literally, “great lamps”) were created, the “Sun” and the “moon”–with no recognition of the fact that the stars are also “great lamps.”

From a phenomenological perspective they aren’t. I’ve hiked by the full moon at night and I could see perfectly well. But try doing that by the light of the stars alone. This is the point. But Ed misses it, as usual, because he is unreasonably trying to find scientific expression and modern astronomical metaphysics in the Bible.

Rather, the Bible depicts “stars” as relatively small objects, created after the earth and “set” in the firmament above it, . . .

Of course, since stars are “relatively small objects” from our earthly perspective! Where’s the beef?

Astronomers, not theologians, discovered that we live on one planet out of many, circling one star out of many, that lies near the end of one arm of a spiral-shaped galaxy, again one out of over a hundred billion galaxies.

It’s not the purpose of theologians or the Bible to “do science” anymore than it is the purpose of scientists to do theology. Yet the ancient Hebrews knew that the universe had a beginning. Modern science only figured that out some forty years ago when Big Bang cosmology became the reigning orthodoxy. The Hebrews had a sublime monotheistic cosmology while the Greeks at the same time were still talking foolishly about Zeus and other gods. So this “we discovered it first” routine works both ways.

Even after the New Testament was written, and the early church fathers began commenting on its contents, some of them remained flat earthers.

That’s right, but so what? Of what relevance is this to anything? If you want to trade stories of ignorance (inexcusable or not) there is, again, plenty to go around. I’ve noted how Galileo, the champion of atheists (so they think) against the Church, was heavily into astrology (a fact that comes as a surprise precisely because it has been suppressed by critics of the Church, due to its not fitting into the stereotype they wish to convey). The same was true of Kepler, who discovered the elliptical orbits of the planets. Newton was an enthusiastic proponent of alchemy.

Modern science committed errors (only a hundred years ago or less) like phrenology, whereby the shape of one’s skull was thought to be a decisive indicator of intelligence. Thus science was brought into the service of overt racism, just as with eugenics: with plans to sterilize blacks and other “inferiors” embraced by enlightened types like Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, who was enamored with the Nazis. We all know what sort of scientific experiments the Nazis did, too. Germany was, of course, one of the most advanced nations in terms of science, in the world, then and now.

Likewise, the sources that Matthew Green cites as definitive in his accepting this biblical skepticism, Dr. Robert M. Price and Reginald Finley Sr., in their article (section: “Welcome to the Flat Earth Society!”) come up with what they think is a compelling argument (after trying the fatally flawed arguments from Matthew 4:8, Daniel 4:10-11, and the “four corners” which have been mercilessly disposed of above):

Isaiah 42:5 and 44:24 state that at creation God “spread out the earth”- the Hebrew verb for “spread” being used elsewhere in Scripture to depict a “flattening” or “pounding.” Also, if the earth was not “spread out,” but “rolled up tightly like a ball” at creation, the writer could have said so. We find the requisite Hebrew construction in Isaiah 22:18, where a man is “rolled up tightly like a ball.” Hence the earth at creation was spoken of as being “flattened or pounded flat” at creation.

The Hebrew word is raqa (Strong’s word #7554). As usual, these skeptics omit what doesn’t fit into their scheme, while presenting facts which appear at first glance to support their contentions. But why not look at the whole story? What do we have to fear from facts, anyway?

Gesenius’ Hebrew-Chaldee Lexicon to the Old Testament defines the use of the word in these passages as “to spread out by beating . . . and simply, to spread out, e.g., God the earth, Ps. 136:6; Isa. 42:5; 44:24.” Does this necessarily have to mean “flat”? Not at all, for in Isaiah 40:19 the same word is used of overlaying gold over an idol, which is not flat, but usually a three-dimensional depiction of a man or an animal. In Job 37:18, God “spread out (raqa) the skies” – and even skeptics do not think they are flat in Hebrew cosmology.

As for Isaiah 22:18, my Revised Standard Version has: “He will seize firm hold on you, and whirl you round and round, and throw you like a ball into a wide land . . .” Other translations (NIV, NASB) are more like the rendering above, but this doesn’t prove that Isaiah 42:5 and 44:24 are inherently contrary to a spherical earth. They don’t contain enough information to decide what shape the earth is.

And so on and on goes the skeptic clattering. It’ll never end. But it isn’t decisive at all. I agree with the conclusion that J.P. Holding made after examining several of these attempts:

[F]or the majority of the cites we have seen, there is . . . merely misinterpretation by skeptics and/or poetry. We are justified in our assertion that there is no proof that the Bible teaches a false cosmology.

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Here are some helpful sources on the topic of biblical cosmology (I don’t necessarily agree with everything in every article):

Does the Bible Teach that the Earth is Flat? (J. P. Holding)

Does the Bible Teach a Spherical Earth? (Robert J. Schneider, Sep. 2001) [especially interesting in its analysis of Is 40:22: “circle of the earth”]

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