The Impact of Luis de Molina on Jacob Arminius

Unbeknownst to many, there is a growing debate among scholars as to whether or not the notorious Reformed Theologian Jacob Arminius was actually a Molinist.  In 1996, the venerable philosopher and theologian Eef Dekker argued this very point in an original paper entitled:  Was Arminius a Molinist?  In the article, Dekker suggests that if one examines Arminius’ use of middle knowledge, “the most specific checkpoint of Molinsism,” he would invariably conclude that, “Arminius indeed can be called a Molinist . . . [because] the theory of middle knowledge is at the very core of Arminius’ doctrine of divine knowledge.”[1] 

Unsurprisingly, this sentiment is not shared by all.  Critics like, Kirk R. MacGregor, have strongly condemned Dekker’s view, on the grounds that it does not take into consideration the subtle differences in Arminius’ and Molina’s thought:

On the one hand, if the theory [that Arminius was a Molinist] simply denotes the doctrine of God’s prevolitional counterfactual knowledge, then Arminius’ system is undoubtedly based upon scientia media.  On the other hand, if the theory is taken as shorthand for the full range of divine cognitive activities posited by Molina from God’s counterfactual knowledge to his creative decree, then Arminius’ system is not grounded in scientia media, as it deviates quite sharply from Molina’s depiction of God’s complete and unlimited deliberation.[2]

What is one to make of such extreme views?  How much, if any, did Arminius draw from Molina’s ideas?  These are precisely the questions this paper seeks to answer. 

In an attempt to paint a more balanced picture, this paper will examine the extent of Molina’s impact on Jacob Arminius; specifically explaining how Molina’s ideas influenced Arminius’ understanding of divine providence and free will.  To accomplish this goal it will: (1) outline Molina’s roll in the Sixteenth-Century revival of Scholasticism—explaining his controversial attempt at reconciling God’s providence with human free will (via. the sceintia media), and (2) summarize the impact of Scholasticism on Protestant thinkers—providing compelling evidence for Molina’s direct influence on Arminius’ thought. 

Luis de Molina and Sixteenth-Century Scholasticism

The unassuming Spanish theologian, Luis de Molina, best known for his controversial doctrine of middle knowledge, has been touted by some as, “perhaps the greatest philosophical theologian in Church history.”[3]  This, to be sure, is surprising to many Protestants who, aside from a few vague notions about middle knowledge, know very little about the man.  Although, it is beyond the scope of this paper to provide a comprehensive biography;  it is necessary to provide some biographical facts in an effort to explain Molina’s central roll in the Sixteenth-Century revival of Scholasticism.

Molina entered the Society of Jesus (known more commonly as the Jesuit order) at Alcala when he was only eighteen years old; and from there he was sent to Coimbra in Portugal to take up studies in philosophy and theology.[4]  He was so successful in his studies that, at the end of his course, he was made professor of philosophy at Coimbra, and promoted a few years later to the chair of theology at the affluent University of Evora.[5]   

Molina would go on to become a principal player in the extraordinary sixteenth-century revival of Scholasticism on the Iberian Peninsula, “a revival fueled in large measure by the Protestant Reformation and the subsequent Catholic response at the Council of Trent.”[6]  Many Protestants are surprised to learn that the issues surrounding the problem of human free will and divine providence raised by John Calvin and Martin Luther were the subject of intense debate among Catholic theologians as well.  Unlike the Protestants, however, the Catholic debate (which began years before Arminius’ disputations) revolved more around the theology of Thomas Aquinas than that of Augustine.[7]   It pitted the newly founded Society of Jesus—represented by Molina and Francisco Suarez—against, “the more established religious orders, especially Thomas Aquinas’s own Dominicans [primarily represented by Domingo Banez].”[8]

Molina, “ignited a fierce controversy,” in 1588 when he published his seminal work:  Liberi Arbitrii cum Gratiae Donis, Divina Praescientia, Providentia, Praedestinatione et Reprobatione Concordia (The Compatibility of Free Choice with the Gifts of Grace, Divine Foreknowledge, Providence, Predestination, and Reprobation), more commonly known as the Concordia.[9]  In it, Molina, “framed an explanatory order among the various logical moments of [God’s] omniscience,” positing that God has knowledge of conditional future contingents (i.e. counterfactuals of creaturely freedom) by means of scentia media or middle knowledge.[10]  He was convinced that his explanatory scheme “provided the key to avoiding the Protestant error of obliterating human free choice without relinquishing divine sovereignty in the process.”[11]

But, what is middle knowledge and how does it reconcile divine providence with human free will?  As quoted earlier, Eef Dekker asserts that middle knowledge is the, “most specific checkpoint of Molinism,” and maintains that it lies at the, “very core of Arminius’ doctrine of divine knowledge.”[12]  Is Dekker’s assessment correct?  The following section approaches an answer to these questions by providing a basic outline of Molina’s theory of middle knowledge and explaining how it solves the problem of divine providence  and human free will.

Molina and the Problem of Divine Providence and Free Will

Before discussing middle knowledge it is necessary to clarify Molina’s views on providence and free will.  To begin with, Molina held a high view of divine providence; as Alred J. Freddoso attests:

The doctrine of divine providence [as Molina understood it] involves the thesis that God, the divine artisan, freely and knowingly plans, orders, and provides for all the effects that constitute His artifact, the created universe with its entire history, and executes His chosen plan by playing an active causal role sufficient to ensure its exact realization.[13]

According to this understanding of providence, everything that transpires is, “properly said to be specifically decreed by God.”[14]  However, regarding God’s decrees, Molina would be quick to make a distinction between occurrences which God specifically and knowingly intends and occurrences [namely, human sin and natural evil] which God specifically and knowingly permits—the latter being a “concession to creaturely defectiveness.”[15]  

Another crucial aspect of Molina’s understanding of providence—closely tied to notions of intention and permission–is the idea of God’s general or divine concurrence.  According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word concurrence denotes, “the simultaneous occurrence of events or circumstances,” or an, “agreement or union in action.”  Other words one might use to express this idea are consent or cooperation. 

So, the idea behind divine concurrence is this:  God being the creator and sustainer of the universe is the primary cause of all things—including the effects of secondary causes (such as human action)—therefore, secondary causes require consent or cooperation from God in order to transpire.  As Molina explains it:  

The primary, though remote, source of contingency for the effects of all secondary causes belonging to the natural order is God’s will, which created the free choice of human beings and angels and the sentient appetite of those beasts that seem to be endowed with some sort of trace of freedom with respect to certain acts; on the other hand, the proximate and immediate source is the free choice of human beings and angels.[16]  

Naturally, the idea that the proximate and immediate source of secondary causes is the free choice of human beings is extremely controversial—namely, because it assumes humans have free will. 

Molina on Free Will

Freddoso describes Molina’s conception of freedom as being “strongly indeterministic,” and correctly asserts that, “in modern terms he [Molina] is an unremitting libertarian.”[17]  But, what does libertarian free will entail?  More often than not, libertarianism is misunderstood and abused.  Consequently, it is only proper to provide a brief outline of the modern philosophical understanding of libertarian free in an effort to help the reader understand Molina’s ideas more clearly. 

To begin with, modern libertarians (or, indeterminists) are careful to distinguish between two distinct categories of causation:  event-event causation and agent causation.  J. P Moreland defines event-event causation as being the idea that, “all causes and effects are events that constitute causal chains construed either deterministically (causal conditions are sufficient for an effect to obtain) or probabilistically (causal conditions are sufficient to fix the chances for an effect to obtain).”[18]  For the determinist, event-event causation is the only game in town.  Under their view, human actions are, “mere happenings; they are parts of causal chains of events that lead up to them in a deterministic fashion.”[19]  As such, human freedom does not truly exist. 

Libertarians, while accepting event-event causation as the correct explanation of most events in the natural world, posit a second form of causation to explain human action—namely, agent causation.[20]  Agent causation denotes the unique ability of human persons (i.e. agents) to instantiate events by virtue of their own power or ability to do so.  Libertarians recognize that agents are, “first-movers, unmoved movers who simply have the power to act as the ultimate originators of their actions.”[21]  In other words, agents are the efficient cause (i.e. producers) of their actions which are not determined by previous events. 

A common misconception, often held by critics of libertarian free will, is that the actions performed by agents are entirely random; this, however, simply reveals their total ignorance on the matter.  Contrary to what critics say, libertarians ardently believe agents produce actions intentionally; that is to say, agents have distinct reasons for acting and these reasons are the final cause of their actions.[22] 

To understand this, imagine a thirsty little boy who desires a coke.  Believing there is a coke in the refrigerator, the little boy, acting as a first-mover, opens the refrigerator and grabs the coke.  In this scenario, the boy is the efficient cause of his actions, while his desires and beliefs are the final cause.  Accordingly, the little boy’s actions were not random; there were good reasons for him to act.  However, the boy’s reasons did not necessitate his actions; for, it was within his power to refrain from grabbing the coke the entire time.

This final point holds particular importance for Molina, who believed man could not justly be responsible for his sin if he did not have a genuine choice to make.  In other words, if the little boy in the above example had been told by his parents not to drink the coke, but it was not within his power to refrain from grabbing the coke, his parents could hardly be just in condemning the boy when he did grab the coke.  As Molina explains,

What grievance will God have on Judgment Day against the wicked, since they were unable not to sin as long as God did not efficaciously incline and determine them to the good, but rather solely by His own free will decided from eternity not so to determine them?  Most assuredly, if this position is accepted . . . God’s justice with respect to the wicked vanishes, and a manifest cruelty and wickedness is discerned in God.[23]

Thus, at the heart of Molina’s libertarianism, lies a genuine concern for the character of God; for Molina, both His justice and goodness are at stake if man does not have free will.

Molina on God’s Omniscience and Prescience

Now that Molina’s views on divine providence and free will have adequately been explained we can turn our attention to his views on God’s omniscience and prescience; analyzing, in particular, the concept of middle knowledge.  To understand Molina’s views on these matters, however, one must first remember that he was heavily influenced by and drew upon the writings of the great Scholastic thinkers of the Middle Ages.  In light of this, one must understand their basic understanding of omniscience to understand Molina’s. 

In those times, it was common for medieval theologians to make a distinction between two “types” of divine knowledge; the first, was referred to as natural knowledge.[24]  Natural knowledge, is not based upon God’s will, rather, it is based upon God’s knowledge of himself and of every metaphysical possibility outside of himself.[25]  As William Lane Craig notes, “God’s natural knowledge includes knowledge of all possibilities.  He knows all the possible individuals he could create, all the possible circumstances he could place them in, all their possible actions and reactions, and all the possible worlds or orders which he could create.”[26]  In short, by His natural knowledge, God knows everything that could be.  Furthermore, “God could not lack this knowledge and still be God; the content of God’s natural knowledge is essential to him.”[27] 

The second type of knowledge can be called free knowledge.  By His free knowledge, God knows every aspect of actual reality—including the past, present and future—after deciding, from among the vast array of possibilities known by his natural knowledge, which world to instantiate; this type of knowledge is referred to as ‘free’ because, “it is preceded by an act of divine free will.”[28]  Molina elucidates,

The second type is purely free knowledge, by which, after the free act of His will, God knew absolutely and determinately, without any condition or hypothesis, which ones from among all the contingent states of affairs were in fact going to obtain and, likewise, which ones were not going to obtain.[29]

Unlike natural knowledge, free knowledge is based upon God’s will and, therefore, its content could be different from what it is now, as Craig states, “if he had created a different world, the content of his free knowledge would be different.”

Molina fully adopted the medieval depiction of omniscience outlined above, with one important exception:  Molina posited the existence of a third type of God’s knowledge.  He referred to this type of knowledge as middle knowledge because it logically fell in between God’s natural and free knowledge.  Middle knowledge is not contingent upon God’s will like free knowledge is; rather it is based upon God’s complete understanding of his free creatures,

The third type is middle knowledge, by which in virtue of the most profound and inscrutable comprehension of each faculty of free choice, He saw in His own essence what each such faculty [human being] would do with its innate freedom were it to be placed in this or in that or, indeed, in infinitely many orders of things—even though it [the human being] would really be able, if it so willed, to do the opposite.[30]

If natural knowledge can be summed up as God’s knowledge of all that could be, middle knowledge can be similarly summed up as God’s knowledge of what free actions a creature would make in any given circumstance or possible world God might place him in.[31]  In this respect, it can properly be said that God’s middle knowledge of conditional future contingents is partially contingent upon free creatures—in the sense that it is based upon what they would do in any given circumstance.

One can easily see how Molina’s view of omniscience would provide a robust view of God’s prescience.  Relying upon His natural and middle knowledge, God determines what type of world and what type of creatures he desires to create; once God acts upon this desire and creates, he has complete foreknowledge of everything that will transpire in the created world based upon his free knowledge.  In this sense, God does not, “acquire his knowledge of the future by ‘foreseeing’ what lay ahead.  Rather he has such knowledge innately.”[32]  Molina explains in more detail:

The knowledge by which God knows absolutely, without hypothesis, what is in fact going to happen because of created free choice is always free knowledge in God, and such knowledge depends on the free determination of His will, a determination by which He decides to crate such-and-such a faculty of free choice and such-and-such an order of things.[33]

Reconciling Divine Providence and Human Free Will

The aspect of Molina’s account of omniscience which holds the key to reconciling a high view of divine providence with a libertarian view of free will is not middle knowledge per say; rather, it is that God has middle knowledge pre-volitionally.  That is to say, God has middle knowledge before his free act of creation.  As Molina states, “God, before He decides to create a being endowed with free choice, foresees what that being would do on the hypothesis that it should be placed in a particular order of things.”[34]  Thus, in favor of a high view of providence, it can be said that God chooses what creatures to make, what world to create, what circumstances they will be placed in, and what causal relationship He will play in the matter.  Conversely, in favor of libertarian free will, God endows humans with the ability to act as first movers, unmoved movers of their actions—in this sense they are totally responsible for the choices they make because they are the ones making them.

It seems, therefore, contra Dekker, that middle knowledge, so construed as the ability to know what a creature would do in any given circumstance, is not the, “most specific checkpoint of Molinism.”[35]  Rather, it is the idea that God has middle knowledge before his free act of creation which enables Molinism to reconcile providence and free will.  In this sense, it is both the complex interaction between the three types of God’s knowledge and the creative way in which Molina utilizes them that makes his ideas so unique.  What remains to be determined is the extent of Molina’s impact on Arminius’ ideas.  Is Dekker correct when he asserts that the, “very core of Arminius’ doctrine of divine knowledge” is middle knowledge?[36]

Jacob Arminius and Protestant Scholasticism

To grasp the extent of Molina’s influence on Arminius, one must start by analyzing the mental environment in which Arminius lived and worked.  Consequently, Arminius’ mental environment was heavily influenced by the resurgence of Scholasticism within the Catholic Church.  In fact, Protestants in Arminius’ day adopted so much from this movement that modern scholars now refer to the Protestant intellectual movement of that period as Protestant Scholasticism.

As protestant ideas began to take hold in Europe, the generations following Luther and Calvin were faced with the task of establishing protestant orthodoxy and building schools and universities.[37]  Because of this, Protestant Scholasticism has been correctly described, “as a self-consciously Protestant methodological adaptation of the Reformation to the classroom.”[38]  In this respect, most of what Protestants adopted from Scholasticism was their systematic approach to theological issues.  As R. S. Clark explains,

[In this context, Scholasticism was] . . . a ‘technical and logical approach to theological system’ which subdivided the loci component parts and subjected those subdivisions to analysis by propositions.  It was a method designed to facilitate clarity in debate and to make use of Scripture and the broader Christian tradition.  Its goal was to provide ‘an adequate technical theology for schools, seminaries, and universities’ and the church with ‘right teaching’, literally orthodoxy.[39]       

The result of this adaptation of Scholastic methodology was the production of, “vast systematic works,” by both Reformed and Lutheran theologians.[40]  According to Justo L. Gonzalez, these works, “could be compared with the great summas of medieval scholasticism, both in their size and in their careful distinctions and analyses.”[41]

It seems, for some Protestants, the appeal of Scholasticism went beyond mere methodology.  According to Gonzalez, there was also a rekindling of interest in Aristotelian logic and metaphysics among certain theologians,“some even began using the works of their Jesuit counterparts, who also were doing theology on the basis of Aristotle.”[42]  Evidentially, Jacob Arminius, was one such theologian.

Arminius was often accused of, “supporting the theology of ‘Jesuits and other adversaries,” by his Reformed critics who believed he was trying to usurp orthodox Reformed doctrine.[43]  In one account, Casper Sibelius, a student at the University of Leiden, speaks explicitly about his professor’s use of Scholastic works in the classroom:

I observed, among a number of fellow students enrolled in the private theological class of doctor Arminius, many things that, had I been ignorant, might easily have led me into dark and abominable errors.  For in that class we were utterly drawn away from reading the works and treatises of Calvin, Beza, Zanchi, Martyr, Ursinus, Piscator, Perkins, and other learned and valuable theologians of the church of Christ, we were commanded to examine not only holy scripture, but equally so the writings of Socinus, Acontius, Castellio, Thomas Aquinas, Molina, Suarez and other enemies of grace.[44] 

Perhaps, however, this was just negative press–one opponent’s cheap attempt at discrediting Arminius’ ideas among Protestants.  While this is a valid hypothesis, the number of opponents who complained about the similarities between Arminius’ work and that of the teachings of Molina and other Jesuit scholars causes one to pause.[45]  Perhaps, if there was a way to establish a direct connection between Arminius and Molina, one could rule this hypothesis out completely?  Interestingly, there is.

 As it turns out, historians have acquired an itemized list of the full contents of Arminius’ library.  This list identifies a large portion of the authors listed by Sibelius—demonstrating that Arminius, indeed, maintained a significant collection of Jesuit writings.[46]  Most notably, it shows that Arminius had a full copy of Molina’s Concordia.  It seems, then, firmly established, that Molina had a considerable impact on Arminius’ intellectual development.[47] 

Not only is there a direct link between Molina and Arminius, but the mental environment in which Arminius lived and worked was overwhelmingly steeped in the methodology of medieval Scholasticism.  What remains now, is to compare and contrast Arminius’ views on divine providence, omniscience, and human free will with that of Molina’s.  Once this is accomplished, a full account of the extent of Molina’s impact on Arminius will have been made; allowing for a decisive opinion on Dekker’s thesis.   

Arminius on Divine Providence, Human Free Will, and Omniscience   

At even a cursory reading of Arminius’ writings one can see the profound influence Molina had on his thought.  The question is, however, how far reaching was this influence?  Are there any important areas in which the two diverge?   In order to answer these questions, this section will exposit Arminius’ teachings on divine providence, human free will, and omniscience and compare it with Molina’s views; following the same basic pattern of the previous section, which outlined Molina’s thought.  

Accordingly, the discussion necessarily begins with the issue of divine providence.  Note the remarkable similarities between Molina and Arminius on this issue: 

[Speaking of providence] I declare that it preserves, regulates, governs and directs all things, and that nothing in the world happens fortuitously or by chance.  Besides this, I place in subjection to Divine Providence both the free-will and even the actions of a rational creature, so that nothing can be done without the will of God . . . only we must observe a distinction between good actions and evil ones, by saying, that ‘God both wills and performs good acts,’ but that “He only freely permits those which are evil.’[48] 

Like Molina, Arminius holds a high view of God’s providence; acknowledging God’s direct and active involvement in everything which takes place in His creation.  Interestingly, he differentiates God’s involvement between ‘good acts’ and ‘evil acts’ in much the same way as Molina did; stating that God only, “freely permits those [acts] which are evil.”[49]  This idea of permission, is fundamental to both Molina and Arminius’ thought and is directly tied to their mutual concern for preserving the free will of man and protecting the character of God—that is, from dispelling the idea that God is the author of sin.   

Nevertheless, there is a crucial difference here as well.  Arminius states that God, “both wills and performs good acts,” suggesting that God acts as the first mover or efficient cause of all good actions.  In this regard, Arminius is more in line with Reformed ideology than with Molina who simply argued that God “intends” good acts. 

The discussion of God’s causal involvement with both good and evil actions flows naturally into the subject of God’s divine concurrence.  Here, once again, there are both striking similarities and subtle differences between the two.  Regarding divine concurrence, Arminius says,

[it] is necessary to produce every act, because nothing whatever can have any entity except from the First and Chief Being, who immediately produces the entity.  The Concurrence of God is not his immediate influx into a second or inferior cause, but it is an action of God immediately flowing into the effect of the creature, so that the same effect in one and the same entire action may be produced simultaneously by God and the creature.[50]

From this quotation, one would gather that Arminius holds the exact same view of divine concurrence as Molina.  He explains that, without God, there would be no actions at all because He is both creator and sustainer of all life.  In this sense God is “necessary” for producing every action. 

However, as was stated earlier, Arminius also seems to suggest that God acts as the efficient cause of all good actions; speaking elsewhere about the issue of divine concurrence he states, “the power of God serves universally, and at all times, to execute . . . [creaturely action] . . . with the exception of permission; specially, and sometimes, these acts are executed by the creatures themselves.”[51]  This statement implies there are times when God acts as the immediate cause of actions and others when he simply allows creatures to act in accordance with their nature.  In this sense, Arminius deviates from Molina rather drastically.

Arminius on Free Will

It is typically believed that Arminius maintained a libertarian view of free will; and in some sense this is true but in another it is false.  Somewhat incongruently, Arminius held to libertarian free will when it came to creatures performing evil actions but not when it came to creatures performing good actions.  Regarding evil actions, Arminius asserts that God permits creatures to act as the efficient cause or first movers of their actions—“to conduct their motions agreeably to their own nature.”[52]  However, as was just discussed, when it comes to good actions, Arminius appears to be a determinist—at least in the sense that something other than the creature [i.e. God]  is acting as the first mover or efficient cause of the action. 

 In any event, Arminius’ embracement of the libertarian view of freedom, when it comes to the evil acts of men, was spurred by the exact same reason as Molina—to avoid making God the author of sin.  As the historical record attests, Arminius began writing about this issue to counter the overbearing views of his rival, Francis Gomarus, “who felt constrained to present his form of Calvinism in a most offensive way.”  According to Gomarus, “God moves the tongues of men to blaspheme,” and, “predestined . . . [man] . . . to sin.”  The implication of Gomarus’ thought, which Arminius strenuously argued against, was that God directly causes men to sin.

Arminius on Omniscience and Prescience

It is in Arminius’ writings on God’s omniscience that the clearest example of Molina’s influence can be seen.  Like Molina, Arminius embraced the same three types or categories of God’s knowledge:

The Scholastics say besides, that one kind of God’s knowledge is natural and necessary, another free, and a third intermediate (medium).  (1) Natural or necessary knowledge is that by which God understands himself and all possible; (2) free knowledge is that by which he knows all other beings; (3) middle knowledge is that by which he knows that “if this occurs, that will happen.”  The first precedes every free act of the divine will.  The second follows the free act of the divine will.  This latter act indeed is preceded by the free will, but sees any future thing as a consequence of it . . . middle [knowledge] must intervene in things that depend on the freedom of creaturely choice.[53]

This passage demonstrates, in the most explicit fashion, the vast extent of Molina’s influence on Arminius’s thought; yet, rather paradoxically, it also demonstrates a fundamental difference in their understanding of middle knowledge. 

In support of Dekker’s thesis, it can be said that, “Arminius’ conception of the scientia media is foundational to his revision of the doctrine of predestination and to his soteriological synergism.”[54]  Furthermore, it can be said that Arminius defines middle knowledge correctly as being that by which he knows, “if this occurs, that will happen.”[55]  However, Arminius clearly deviates, quite drastically, from Molina’s logical ordering of middle knowledge. 

Unlike Molina, Arminius argues that middle knowledge is, “preceded by the free will,” which essentially means that God does not have middle knowledge pre-volitionally.[56]  As MacGregor explains,

From his claim that God perceives ‘created will’ or ‘created choice’ through middle knowledge we see that Arminius . . . seems to clearly presuppose that it transpired before (not after) God’s scentia media.  In other words, Arminius assumes that God has already settled on creating a particular group of individuals logically prior to his apprehension of scientia media, which knowledge then furnishes him the rational ground to elect or reprobate every such individual based upon what each would freely do in the actual world.[57]     

Thus, Arminius’ understanding of middle knowledge and how it explains God’s foreknowledge of conditional future contingents is the exact opposite of Molina’s. 

In Arminius’ view, God creates based upon his natural knowledge, and has knowledge of what free actions the creatures in his created world would make, based upon his middle knowledge.  In contrast, Molina, believed God had middle knowledge before his free act of creation and in fact relied upon this knowledge in making his decision to create this particular world. 

Conclusion

Based upon this papers analysis, it can be concluded, without reservation, that Molina had a profound influence on Arminius’ thinking.  Not only is there a direct link between Molina and Arminius [via. The copy of the Concordia, along with other Jesuit writings, in Arminius’ library], but the mental environment in which Arminius lived and worked was overwhelmingly steeped in the methodology of medieval Scholasticism.  Furthermore, a careful comparison of Arminius’ and Molina’s understanding of divine providence, free will, and omniscience, shows that Arminius held similar if not identical positions on many of the issues related to these topics.  However, there are notable differences between them as well:  (1) Molina was a strict libertarian while Arminius was only a libertarian concerning the evil actions of men and (2) Arminius’ did not believe God had middle knowledge pre-volitionally.  Based upon these facts it can be concluded that Arminius was not a Molinist, as Dekker believes, but that he simply drew upon and reinterpreted Molina’s thoughts.   

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[1] Eef Dekker, “Was Arminius a Molinist?,” Sixteenth Century Journal 27 (Sum 1996): 337.

[2] Kirk R. MacGregor, A Molinist-Anabaptist Systematic Theology (New York: University Press of America, 2007), 64.

[3] Ibid., 14.

[4] J. Pohle, “Luis de Molina,” in The Catholic Encyclopedia, http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/10436a.htm. (accessed October 14, 2009).

[5] Ibid.

[6] Luis de Molina, On Divine Foreknowledge: Part IV of the Concordia, trans. Alfred J. Freddoso (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1988), vii.

[7] This is not to say that Augustine’s theology did not play an important role in the Catholic debate; but simply to point out which theologian’s work Molina and his adversaries interacted with the most.

[8] Ibid., vii.

[9] Ibid., vii.

[10] MacGregor, A Molinist-Anabaptist Systematic Theology, 14.

[11] Ibid., 15.

[12] Dekker, “Was Arminius a Molinist?,” 337.

[13]Molina, On Divine Foreknowledge, 3.

[14] Ibid., 3.

[15] Ibid., 3.

[16] Ibid., 94.

[17] Ibid., 24.

[18] J. P. Moreland, Scott B. Rae, Body & Soul:  Human Nature & the Crisis in Ethics (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2000), 123.

[19] Ibid., 123.

[20] Ibid., 129.

[21] Ibid., 129-130.

[22] Ibid., 129.

[23] Molina, On Divine Foreknowledge, 139.

[24] Eef Dekker, Middle Knowledge (Leuven: Peeters, 2000), 4.

[25] Ibid., 4.

[26] William Lane Craig, The Only Wise God (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1987), 129.

[27] Ibid., 129.

[28] Dekker, Middle Knowledge, 4.

[29] Molina, On Divine Foreknowledge, 168.

[30] Ibid., 168.

[31] Dekker, Middle Knowledge, 5.

[32] Craig, The Only Wise God, 133.

[33] Molina, On Divine Foreknowledge, 170.

[34] Ibid., 170.

[35] Dekker, “Was Arminius a Molinist?,” 337.

[36] Ibid., 337.

[37] Clark, R. S in, Protestant Scholasticism:  Essay’s in Reassessment, ed. Carl R. Trueman, R. Scott Clark (Carlisle: Paternoster Press, 1999), 115-116.

[38] Ibid., 115.

[39] Ibid., 115-116.

[40] Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity Volume 2 (New York: Harper One, 1985), 175.

[41] Ibid., 175.

[42] Ibid., 175.

[43] Richard A. Muller, God, Creation, and Providence in the Thought of Jacob Arminius (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1991), 28.

[44]Ibid., 27-28.  Emphasis mine.

[45] Ibid., 28.

[46] Ibid., 46.

[47] Ibid., 46.

[48] James Arminius, The Writings of James Arminius Volume One, trans. James Nichols and W. R. Bagnall (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1956), 120.

[49] Ibid., 120.  Emphasis mine.

[50] Roger E. Olson, Arminian Theology:  Myths and Realities (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 122.

[51] James Arminius, The Writings of James Arminius Volume 2, trans. James Nichols and W. R. Bagnall (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1956), 70.

[52] Ibid., 70.

[53] Muller, God, Creation, and Providence in the Thought of Jacob Arminius, 155-156.

[54] Ibid., 154.

[55] Ibid., 155.

[56] Ibid., 156.

[57] MacGregor, A Molinist-Anabaptist Systematic Theology, 71.

An Addendum to My Previous Post: Abortion and the Philosophy of Mind

Also posted on Of Virtue and Life

In my recent post Abortion and the Philosophy of Mind I made this comment:

“In all of the debates raging over the status of the fetus I have yet to come across material which articulates the connection this issue has with the philosophy of mind.”

I am happy to report that I’ve found an excellent book which deals with this very issue from a dualist perspective.  The title of the book is Body & Soul: Human Nature & the Crisis in Ethics by J. P. Moreland and Scott B. Rae. I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in an articulate account of the nature of human beings, the philosophy of mind, and bioethics from a Christian perspective.

I shall write more on this subject myself in the very near future; until then, please enjoy this great book!

Molinism is not Open Theism: A Critique of Dr. McMahon’s Assessment

In recent years Molinism has made a come-back in philosophical circles thanks to the work of Alfred J. Freddoso, Thomas Flint, and William Lane Craig.  As a result, Molina’s ideas are creeping their way back into theological discussions as well.  Slowly but surely, pastors and seminary students are becoming acquainted with, at least, the term Molinism.  Often, this minimal acquaintance leads the uninitiated to do a quick search on goggle.  Upon searching, they are confronted by the blog-post of Dr. C. Matthew McMahon on A Puritan’s Mind entitled:  The Heresy of Middle Knowledge.  Curiosity gets the best of them and they eagerly click on the post with the inflammatory title.  As they read the first paragraph of McMahon’s article, and encounter his thesis statement, any positive interest in Molinism which might have existed quickly fades away:

“In this paper, the heresy I am re-refuting surrounds Theology Proper, or the doctrine of God.  It is specifically in terms of the doctrine of the knowledge of God, or His Omniscience.  The error is called Molinism, or Middle Knowledge (Today Open Theism is its close brother.)”

After reading the final words of his thesis the troubled pastor or seminary student dutifully  stuffs Molinism in a black file-folder marked, “Heresies that must not be named,” and forego any more research on the matter.

For many, Dr. McMahons malicious and poorly researched blog-post is both their first and last introduction to Molinism.  I find this situation very sad, because Dr. McMahon’s description of Molinism is filled with inaccuracies and misrepresentations.  To rectify this unfortunate situation I will correct four of the biggest mistakes in McMahon’s post.

(1)  McMahon claims that the Doctrine of Middle Knowledge is Open Theisms “close brother.”

This claim is truly baffling considering Molina’s doctrine of Middle Knowledge is actually Open Theisms worst nightmare; for, it ascribes to God what Molina terms supercomprehension.  Without getting into too much detail, this means that God has knowledge of how a person would freely act in any and all possible worlds.  He calls this supercomprehension because it says that God has comprehensive knowledge of states of affairs that may never actually obtain (something far beyond regular comprehension.)  On top of this, Molina believed that God had this knowledge prior to his decision to create.  To put it in the crude vernacular of modern language: the doctrine of middle knowledge is like foreknowledge 2.0.

Open Theism argues that it is impossible for God to have foreknowledge—especially foreknowledge of the free actions of human beings.  So, it is entirely false and nonsensical to claim that Molina’s Doctrine of Middle Knowledge is Open Theisms “close brother.”

(2)  McMahon says, “middle knowledge states that God cannot know the future free acts of men in the same way He knows other things absolutely.  Thus, this middle knowledge is dependent upon the free acts of what men will do.  God, in His “omniscience”, waits for men to act and then will choose them to be saved based on their choice to be saved.”

It’s clear from this statement that McMahon has grossly misunderstood the thrust of Molina’s argument.  Molina holds to a libertarian view of free-will which basically means that human beings are the efficient cause or first cause of their own actions.  Naturally, if man has libertarian free-will then God’s middle knowledge is partly contingent (dependent) upon man because man is the one producing the action.  However, it does not follow from this that, “God, in His “omniscience,” waits for men to act and then will choose them to be saved based on their choice.”  This is the Arminian position.

The crucial part of Molina’s theory is not that God has middle knowledge but that he has middle knowledge prior to his free act to create.  Accordingly, God knew that Peter would deny him when placed in situation A (A being the situation described in the gospels) before the foundation of the world.  Furthermore, God knew how Peter would act in any and all possible situations that he could put Peter in.  Based on both his natural and middle knowledge God chose to create a world in which situation A would obtain.

So, it is not that God waits for men to act and then chooses them.  God chooses what creatures to make, what world to create, and what situations to place them in—knowing what free choices they will in fact make.  Thus, God predestines but this does not impinge upon mans free will.  Man is still responsible for his actions because he is the cause of his actions.

(3) McMahon says, “The Molinian logician will argue that an action must first occur before it can be true.  God, then, cannot know anything in this manner as true and absolute unless it has first occurred.”

This statement is obviously false, because Molina believed God possessed middle knowledge before his free act of creation. In other words, the Molinist does not believe an action must first occur before it can be true—that is Open Theism.  The Molinist believes that God has supercomprehension, and thus can have knowledge of actions before they occur and even if they never occur.

(4) McMahon says, “It is certainly easy to see what the doctrine of Middle knowledge is attractive here.  Men are ultimately their own little saviors.”

Well, actually, the doctrine of middle knowledge says no such thing.  In fact, the doctrine of middle knowledge has only indirect implications on matters of soteriology—it is directly concerned with matters of God’s omniscience.  There may be some crazy exception (there always is) but Molinist’s do not believe man can save himself.  They do believe salvation comes from the Lord—through the work of Jesus on the cross.

Oxymoronic: A critique of, “Christian Naturalism”

Michael Dowd recently made the oxymoronic claim that he was a Christian Naturalist on his blog Evolutionary Times.  According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, an oxymoron is a, “combination of contradictory or incongruous words . . . something that is made up of contradictory or incongruous elements”—and this is precisely what Michael Dowd’s claim amounts to.

Christians believe in God—an all-powerful, all-knowing, personal agent who exists outside of space and time.  Simply put, Christians believe in the supernatural.  This is a foundational belief upon which all other Christian beliefs and doctrines are built upon.  There is no confusion on this point because the Judeo-Christian worldview is crystal clear about the nature of God—he is a person and he is the creator and sustainer of all things (this includes both material and immaterial (spiritual) elements.)

Naturalism asserts that nature is a closed system of material causes and effects—it denies the existence of God and the existence of immaterial substances (spirits or souls).  Simply put, Naturalism is a repudiation of the Christian worldview; it stands as the complete antithesis of the Christian picture of reality.  There is absolutely no confusion on this point because naturalists are very clear about their position on the nature of reality—the physical/material world is all that exists.

Accordingly, Michael Dowd’s assertion that he is a “Christian Naturalist” is incoherent and can only be explained by one of three ways:  (1) Dowd misunderstands what it means to be a Christian, (2) Dowd misunderstands what it means to be a naturalist, or (3) Dowd misunderstands what it means to be a Christian and what it means to be a naturalist.  Now, we can easily eliminate numbers (2) and (3), because it’s quite clear from his writings that Mr. Dowd understands naturalism.  As he says,

“I am a Christian Naturalist, not a supernaturalist . . . my focus and locus of inspiration is found in the cosmos and in this life.” (emphasis mine)

To that extent, it seems clear that Mr. Dowd misunderstands what it means to be a Christian.  In fact, we can be sure of this for one important reason:  Mr. Dowd espouses a naturalistic worldview which, by definition, rejects the foundational Christian belief that God exists.   “But wait,” you say, “Mr. Dowd talks about God all the time; he even dedicated his book Thank God for Evolution to him!”  Mr. Dowd may very well believe in god, but not in the Christian God.  This is made very clear in his book:

“What a difference it makes to be groping our way forward in faith—in partnership with God, or, should you prefer less traditional terminology:  trusting the Universe, trusting Reality, trusting Time.”  (pg. 30)

For the Christian, using terminology like, “trusting the Universe,” is not the same as using terminology like, “trusting God.”  This is because the most basic Christian belief is that God is not the universe—God is the creator and sustainer of the universe.  The universe, the complex arrangement of matter and energy, is not the same thing as a personal, immaterial, God who created matter and energy.  So, when Michael Dowd suggests—as he does throughout his book—that we can interchange these terms it becomes evident that he grossly misunderstands what it means to be a Christian.

In short, Mr. Dowd might as well take the word ‘Christian’ out of his self-description and simply call himself a naturalist—for that is what he is.

Abortion and the Philosophy of Mind

In all of the debates raging over the status of the fetus I have yet to come across material which articulates the connection this issue has with the philosophy of mind.  This strikes me as odd, because one’s theory of mind is inextricably tied to one’s anthropology.  More to the point, one’s theory of the mind will have a dramatic impact on how he views the fetus.

The most pertinent topic in the philosophy of mind relating to this issue is the so called mind/body problem—which deals with defining what a mind is and how it relates to the brain.  Philosophers tackling the mind/body problem usually fall into two camps: dualists-those who believe both immaterial and material substances exist–and physicalists—those who believe only material substances exist.   In more common language, dualists believe human beings have a soul and physicalists do not.  In relation to issues regarding the fetus, the question boils down to this: if souls exist, does a fetus have a soul?  And how does this impact the abortion debate?

How one answers the mind/body problem will not only have a dramatic impact on how he views the fetus, but on how he views a full grown human being.  This is because one’s theory of mind reflects his general ontology of the human being.  For example, if one adheres to a physicalist theory of the mind then he believes that a human being is nothing more than matter and energy—the hapless byproduct of billions of years of evolution.   Under this scheme, human beings are not endowed with any special or unique importance or value-our existence is just a brute fact of nature.

In contrast, those who hold to some form of substance dualism—that both material and immaterial substances exist—believe human beings have a soul.   If human beings have a soul, this entails the existence of a transcendent immaterial being—namely God.  In natural theology, this forms the basis for the so called Argument from Consciousness which has recently been reformulated by J. P. Moreland (Consciousness and the Existence of God, Routledge Studies in the Philosophy of Religion.)   If the argument from consciousness is sound, then God exists; and if human beings are a special part of his creation, it stands to reason that human beings have a purpose—a reason for existence–and that they are inherently valuable.

So we see how foundational our theory of mind is to the status of the fetus.  If the fetus is merely matter and energy, and God does not exist, then the fetus has no intrinsic or objective value or importance.  But, according to the physicalist scheme, this is true for the full grown adult as well.  In essence, there is no ontological difference between a fetus and a full grown human being under the physicalist perspective—both are simply matter and energy and neither one possess intrinsic value or dignity.

However, if substance dualism is correct, then there is a strong possibility that God exists.  If God exists, man has a purpose and is intrinsically valuable.  Like the physcialist, the dualist theory does not delineate an ontological difference between the fetus and a full grown adult.  Both posses a human soul, both are made in the image of God, and therefore, both are intrinsically valuable.

It becomes obvious that the position one holds on the status of the fetus and abortion is inextricably tied to ones theory of the mind.  If a fetus is simply matter and energy then it is ontologically equal to a full grown human being—that is, it possesses no intrinsic value or dignity.  As such, there is no objective reason why abortion is wrong—and for that matter there is no objective reason why the killing of a full grown human being is wrong either.

Conversely, if the fetus is made up of more than matter and energy—if it has a soul—then it is ontologically equal to a full grown human being.  More importantly, if a fetus has a soul, it has intrinsic value and worth—and this is true of the full grown human being as well.  Accordingly, there is an objective reason why abortion is wrong; because it is the killing of a human being; the destruction of a life endowed with the same value, dignity, and worth of a full grown adult.

Is Evolution a Random Directionless Process?

I would like to congratulate Michael Dowd for doing a top-notch job defending Intelligent Design in chapter two of his popular book, Thank God for Evolution.  I would like to congratulate him; but perhaps I should not.  Embarrassingly, I believe he is under the impression that what he has written constitutes a solid defense of Darwinian Evolution.  In actual fact, he has produced one of the all time worst analogies for evolution printed in the English language—and in the process provided evidence for Intelligent Design.

Chapter two of Dowd’s insipid book is boldly titled, Evolution Is Not Meaningless Blind Chance.  Now, there are a couple of things one would expect to find in a chapter with such a title; one of them being a clear example of how evolution is not meaningless blind chance.  Unfortunately, such examples are largely absent from the text.  This is not to say that he didn’t try, but as I will soon demonstrate, his attempt leaves much to be desired.  Lest I should overlook one of his more subtle points I will simply quote to you his exact words–any attempt on my part to summarize Dowd’s work would surely do him great injustice.

At the opening of chapter two, Mr. Dowd says this:

In a million years, the ebb and flow of tides on all the sandy beaches of the world will not fashion even one instance of a multistoried sandcastle that any of us would be fooled into thinking was the work of human hands.  Not in a billion years will a tornado whip together a functioning bicycle (much less a jet plane) from a heap of unassembled parts.  We know this.  Commonsense tells us that random, directionless processes cannot give birth to complex or sophisticated offspring.  (pg. 31, emphasis mine)

I must confess that opening chapter two with this paragraph was a bold move on Mr. Dowd’s part.  Proponents of ID have been making these exact claims for quite some time—and it is hard to ignore the logical force and intuitive appeal of such argumentation.  To his credit, Mr. Dowd fully endorses it—even referring to it as being “commonsense.”  In the next line down he proudly proclaims, “here is the good news for peoples of faith . . . evolution is not blind chance.  Randomness yields nothing—by itself.” (31)

It is clear that Mr. Dowd is a master rhetorician and would make a great used car salesman–he knows how to make a bad product look good.  First, you agree with your opponent’s primary objection—random directionless processes cannot give birth to highly complex integrative molecular machinery—and then conclude by assuring him that Darwinian Evolution postulates nothing of the sort.  Darwinian Evolution is not just random directionless processes—that would be silly.  No one in their right mind could believe something so nonsensical!

According to Mr. Dowd, evolution is not a random directionless process because of natural selection.  To illustrate this profound point, Dowd provides this splendid analogy:

Each morning, when I download my email, I engage in a kind of evolutionary process.  Speaking invitations I forward to my assistant; bills to my wife.  Whenever I encounter spam, I hit the delete button.  There is randomness, to be sure, in the order in which the emails show up on my screen.  But what is far more important is my propensity to sort by function and discard anything that is not helpful…Ever since Darwin, evolutionary scientists have been presenting biological evolution in much the same way.  What Darwin called “natural selection” is nothing more than the sum of Nature’s sorting process. (31-32)

Unwittingly, Mr. Dowd’s little story proves precisely the opposite point he intended it to—it proves that Intelligent Design is the best explanation at hand to explain certain features of the universe.  Like so many Darwinian analogies, Dowd’s fails because it utilizes an intelligent agent who can make rational decisions as a representation of natural selection.

In the analogy, natural selection is personified as Michael Dowd sorting through his email—forwarding messages to their correct file location and deleting spam.  However, this analogy is not—by any stretch of the imagination—an accurate depiction of natural selection.  Natural selection is not an intelligent being—it cannot make decisions, it doesn’t evaluate, it doesn’t look ahead—natural selection is a completely mindless physical process.  As Richard Dawkins would put it, natural selection is the “blind watchmaker;” it cannot see what it is doing.  I would go further:  natural selection is not only blind, it is deaf and dumb as well.

Michael Dowd can read and understand emails, determine what type of email he is reading, look to the future and plan ahead–moving pertinent emails into files for his assistant and wife to view—and delete  files he’s deemed un-useful.   All of these actions require the one thing Darwinian Evolution does not allow for—intelligence.  In presenting natural selection as an intelligent agent, Dowd’s analogy is inaccurate and grossly misleading.

In spite of what Mr. Dowd would have you believe, Darwinian evolution is a random directionless process.   It is based upon random genetic mutations—hence, it is random–and naturals selection –which is, by definition, a directionless process.  If natural selection had an end goal or direction it would require some sort of intelligence directing the process; an intelligence who had in mind what it wanted to do with a given biological system—who could look ahead and decide what an organism would need to survive given a certain environment.  But this requires planning and reasoning—this requires a mind.

It seems to me that Mr. Dowd has utterly failed to prove his assertion that evolution is not a random directionless process.  In consequence, he has proved the very thing he hoped to disprove: that certain features of the universe are best explained in terms of intelligent design.  After all, no one believes that a random directionless process can produce sophisticated/complex structures:

In a million years, the ebb and flow of tides on all the sandy beaches of the world will not fashion even one instance of a multistoried sandcastle that any of us would be fooled into thinking was the work of human hands.  Not in a billion years will a tornado whip together a functioning bicycle (much less a jet plane) from a heap of unassembled parts.  We know this.  Commonsense tells us that random, directionless processes cannot give birth to complex or sophisticated offspring. (pg. 31, emphasis mine)

Reestablishing the Judeo-Christian Worldview as a Basis for Science

ABSTRACT

This paper presents a cumulative case for the reestablishment of the Judeo-Christian worldview as a basis for science and argues that naturalism is neither necessary nor sufficient for science to flourish.   It seeks to tear down the misconception that Christianity and Science are in dire conflict, and dispel the notion that naturalism is the only philosophical worldview compatible with or conducive to science.  This paper will accomplish this task by (1) surveying the history of science (its development from ancient times into the modern era) and establishing which philosophical worldview gave rise to science and (2) outlining the deficiency of naturalism as a philosophical basis for science.

 

 

Reestablishing the Judeo-Christian Worldview as a Basis for Science

In his well-known book, Miracles, C. S. Lewis put forth this timeless maxim, “What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience.  It is therefore useless to appeal to experience before we have settled, as well as we can, the philosophical question.”[1] This statement is especially pertinent when considering science.  Like everything else, science does not exist in a vacuum.  When scientists approach their work they bring to the table certain philosophical presuppositions which influence their interpretation of empirical data. 

Today, the dominant philosophical presupposition held by scientists is naturalism, the idea that, “nature itself is ultimately all there is . . . a permanently closed system of material causes and effects that can never be influenced by anything outside of itself.”[2]  This a priori assumption about the nature of reality is viewed as being a necessary basis for science, and as such, is rarely questioned among scientists. 

However, naturalism, as Phillip E. Johnson has so eloquently argued, is a “highly controversial philosophical presupposition,” not an empirical fact.[3]  The wrongful categorization of naturalism as an empirical fact has lead to major misunderstandings about the relationship of science and religion and to the persistent exclusion of explanations of reality which go beyond the methodology typically employed by scientists.[4] 

In spite of its indubitable status in the minds of so many scientists and scholars, philosophical naturalism is not an adequate basis for science.  In fact, the philosophical ramifications of naturalism are antithetical to the very nature of science.  Furthermore, from a historical perspective, modern science was not born out of a naturalistic worldview; accordingly, it is not evident that naturalism is a necessary condition for science to flourish. 

This paper contends that the Judeo-Christian worldview provides a stronger philosophical basis for science than naturalism and calls for its reestablishment as an accepted philosophical worldview among scientists.  It will accomplish this by exploring the origins and historical development of science and by specifying naturalisms failure to provide the necessary metaphysical and epistemological assumptions needed to justify science.

The Argument from History

 Michael B. Foster, the late twentieth-century historian of science, once said that, “Scientific investigation depends upon certain assumptions about the world—and science is impossible until those assumptions are in place.”[5]  This section will examine the origins and history of science in order to determine what philosophical assumptions gave rise to modern science.  This exercise will prove two things:  (1) that the alleged “war” between science and Christianity (which characterizes the two as being incompatible) is a myth and (2) that the Judeo-Christian worldview played a critical role in the advent of modern science.      

The “War” between Science and Christianity

  According to Oxford’s eminent biochemist and theologian Alister McGrath, one of the principal barriers belaying dialogue in science and religion is the, “baleful presence of a “warfare” school of interpretation.”[6] The warfare model, “although widely regarded as fatally wounded, both historically and intellectually . . . continues to exercise a lingering shadow over the field.”[7]  Quite clearly, as long as this injudicious attitude is sustained, little progress will be made in maintaining a healthy interaction between science and religion; let alone, in establishing the Judeo-Christian worldview as a basis for science.  Accordingly, a brief analysis of the historical roots of the “warfare” model and the substantial criticism it has received over the years is in due order. 

Origins of the Warfare School of Interpretation

The warfare school of interpretation can be traced to two American authors:  John William Draper (A History of the Conflict between Religion and Science) and Andrew Dickson White (A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom) who published their respective works in the late nineteenth-century. [8]  These highly influential writings introduced harsh, “militaristic language,” which, “dominated discussions of science and religion,” well into the twentieth-century.[9]

The Draper-White thesis, as it has come to be known, claims that the primary relationship between science and religion in history has been one of “conflict.”[10]  Their argument can be summed up as follows:  religion, in its attempt to define reality, often infringes upon issues which clearly belong to the realm of science.  Inevitably, religion oversteps its bounds and a conflict ensues, “with scientific advances eventually making the truth clear to all and invariably (and rightly) emerging victorious.”[11]    

The Draper-White thesis was bolstered by a position in epistemology known as logical positivism.  Positivism, which asserts that, “only empirically verifiable knowledge is valid and that all other kinds of knowledge are opinion and emotion,” dominated the intellectual climate of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.[12]  However, logical-positivism has been severely criticized by philosophers of science, who point out (among other things) that logical-positivism itself cannot be empirically tested.  As a result, positivist views have, “faded from the philosophical scene.”[13]   

Criticism of the Warfare School of Interpretation

The Draper-White thesis was never whole heartedly embraced by scholars, as Gary B. Ferngren points out, “some historians [have] always regarded the Draper-White thesis as oversimplifying and distorting a complex relationship.”[14]  Nevertheless, a “systematic reevaluation,” of the Draper-White thesis did not begin until the late twentieth-century.[15]   Scholars such as, Alfred North Whitehead and Michael B. Foster, lead the charge having, “[become] convinced that Christianity, rather than impeding science, had actually encouraged it by establishing that nature behaves in a regular and orderly fashion—a basic premise of modern science.”[16]

Today, there is an increasing acknowledgment among historians that the interaction between religion and science throughout history has been positive.[17]  As research progresses, the inadequacy of portraying science and religion as locked in “systemic strife,” is becoming increasingly clear.[18]  As the Draper-White thesis withers away many historians now acknowledge the Judeo-Christian worldview, in particular, played a vital role in the advent of modern science.  As Nancy Pearcey and Charles Thaxton correctly assert, “Today a wide range of scholars recognize that Christianity provided both intellectual presuppositions and moral sanction for the development of modern science.”[19]

In spite of this, there are those who desire to, “perpetuate the [warfare] stereotype,” ignoring the, “vast body of literature urging a more nuanced and informed reading of the situation.”[20]  For example, Oxford’s famed evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins is notorious for using combative, warlike, language when discussing religion and science.[21]  Conversely, fundamentalist Christians are also guilty of using “warfare” language.  Henry Morris, founder of the Institute for Creation Research, and author of, The Long War against God, argues that scientific theories like Darwinian evolution are the work of Satin in his war against the Church.[22] 

Consequently, the warfare interpretation remains pervasive in the media and popular culture in spite of what historians now believe.  Tragically, this has created a false dichotomy in the minds of many who believe that reconciliation between faith (especially Christianity) and science is an insurmountable task.  The following section shows that the Judeo-Christian worldview played a pivotal role in the advent of modern science in an effort to narrow the alleged gap between faith and science.

The Role of the Judeo-Christian worldview in the Advent of Modern Science

The advent of modern science in western civilization rests upon two pillars: ancient Hebrew metaphysics (HM) and ancient Greek methodology (GM).  HM provided the basic philosophical assumptions necessary to justify scientific investigation and GM laid the groundwork for a “scientific” approach to understanding nature.  Christian philosophers synthesized HM and GM early in the second century and this marriage eventually lead to the development of what became known in the Middle Ages as Natural Theology.  Many historians now believe the prominence of Natural Theology in Medieval academics, “proved to be of major importance to the emergence of the natural sciences in Western Europe.”[23]  This section will outline HM and GM, elucidate how and why they were synthesized by Christian thinkers, and explain how this synthesis influenced the course of science up to and beyond the scientific revolution. 

Hebrew Metaphysics           

Hebrew metaphysics offer at least two important understandings of reality which hold significant importance for science.  The first is its conception of God and how he relates to the universe.  The Hebrew understanding of God represented a substantial break from Ancient Near Eastern (ANE) ideology.[24]  To begin with, ANE deities were not eternal transcendent creators, but were themselves created beings subject to, “biological conditions, requiring food, drink, sleep, and sexual gratification.”[25]  Furthermore, ANE deities were often directly linked to natural phenomenon.  For example, “the creation of the sea would be described as the birth of the goddess of the sea.”[26]  According to this view, creation was instantiated by, “divine procreation,” and order was brought to the universe by the head of the pantheon.[27]

In the Hebrew understanding of God, we find a completely different paradigm, “whereas Near Eastern divinities dwelt within nature, the Hebrew God was transcendent, above nature and not a part of it.”[28]  Yahweh was the creator and sustainer of the world, not a product of world.  As the prophet Jeremiah proclaimed, “It is he who made the earth by his power, who established the world by his wisdom, and by his understanding stretched out the heavens.”[29]

Respected Old Testament commentator Kenneth A. Mathews sums up the importance of this distinction between God and the universe…

The ancient myths did not adequately distinguish between the creator and the creature, but Israel declares that the universe is no more than a creature.  In Israel’s view there was no divine heaven or earth.  It was this view that freed the heavens and the earth from superstition and provided an ideological basis for the emergence of modern science.[30]

The second aspect of HM relevant to science is its assertion that man was made in the image of God (Gen. 1:27).   Among other things, this meant that man, like God, had the ability to reason.  It also meant that man was placed, “in authority over the terrestrial earth to exercise responsible governance.”[31] Since man was created specifically for his environment, equipped with the ability to reason, and charged with the task of looking after God’s creation, it is reasonable to assume that his cognitive faculties were designed to correspond to the world around him.  In other words, it is assumed in HM that an objective reality exists and that man can make rational (True) judgments about it. 

In summary, HM provides a solid theoretical foundation for scientific investigation.  It posits a creator, entailing that the universe has a teleology or purpose and thereby is rational (i.e. understandable),  it makes a distinction between the creator and the creation–freeing man from superstitious or mythological explanations of nature and affirming a continuity between the celestial and terrestrial realms–it assumes that the universe is objectively real and not simply an illusion, and finally it asserts that human beings were created in the image of God–denoting his ability to reason and make true judgments about nature. 

While HM provides the necessary assumptions needed for science, the Hebrews, for various historical and cultural reasons, did not develop a rigorous natural science.  Hence, one cannot look to the Hebrews for a scientific methodology.  For the origin of scientific methodology, one must turn to the Ancient Greeks.     

Greek Methodology    

It may come as a surprise that scientific methodology arose in Ancient Greece; for the Greeks, like other ANE cultures, viewed nature as, “a living, divine organism, producing all things, all gods, men and animals, by generation.”[32]  Furthermore, the Greeks, in particularly Aristotle, bifurcated between the terrestrial and the celestial realms; that is, they viewed the heavenly bodies as being composed of a divine substance and operating on different laws than the earth.[33]  Yet, in spite of their metaphysical deficiencies, Ancient Greece was the birthplace of scientific methodology.   This portion will discuss what GM was and explain why it never developed into anything resembling modern natural science.  

The Pre-Socratics.  According to tradition, the Greek philosopher Thales (c. 585 BC) was the first to employ the “new [scientific] methodology,” which Aristotle later characterized as, “the search for archai, or basic ‘principles’ of things.”[34]  Thales’s goal was to identify the primary element (in his case, water) which was, “fundamental to the world and its processes,” and to explain natural phenomena in an entirely different manner than traditional Greek mythology.[35]  His new approach inspired succeeding Greek thinkers–Anaximander, Anaximenes, Heraclitus, Xenophanes, Pythagoras, the Hipppocratic’s—who would follow in his footsteps and build upon his work; these thinkers are known today as the Pre-Socratics philosophers.       

While there is very little consensus among the Pre-Socratics the common thread which unites their work is the new methodology pioneered by Thales.  Accordingly, the new methodology can be defined as such: the drift away from mythological explanations of the world and the implementation of naturalistic causes in explaining the terrestrial world.[36]  This, innovative approach to the study of nature, opened the door for “great advances” in scientific thought and eventually led to the establishment of several important scientific disciplines.[37]

One such discipline, which deserves special notice, was the emergence of medicine.  Much of the evidence we have for this can be found in the Hippocratic Texts–from which modern doctors derive their famous “Hippocratic Oath.”  The Hippocratic Texts reveal a highly developed system of medical procedure; which dealt with the “practical matters” of observation, diagnosis, prognosis, developing cures, and even, “engage[d] with the theoretical issues which underlie them.”[38]  The most famous of the Hippocratic Texts, for its work on epilepsy, is entitled, The Sacred Disease.  In this astounding work, epilepsy is diagnosed as a “physical aliment with determinate physical causes,” flying in the face of traditional interpretations which attributed the seizures to “divine visitations.”[39] 

Aristotle.  No account of Greek scientific methodology would be complete without mentioning the significant, and lasting, contribution of Aristotle.  While the Pre-Socratics pioneered the new scientific methodology, Aristotle systematized and defined it:  “Aristotle was the first person to reflect in depth on what it is for something to be a science (episteme), an organized body of knowledge.”[40]  This, in turn, led him to formalize the rules of reason (logic), zoology, biology, physics, and a host of other scientific disciplines. 

For Aristotle, science was more than the “mere observation of facts,” or simply stating that something, “is the case.”[41]  Science was a highly rational activity seeking to explain why a thing was the way it was:

We observe particular instances of definite kinds of events.  But “science” does more than this: science states something about a certain “kind” of event or thing.  Science . . . states what is “essential” to being that “kind” of thing or event.  Science thus states its “reason why,” its dioti; it states what that kind of thing really is.[42]

  While it can be argued that Aristotle’s system leads to rationalism—the idea that knowledge comes by reason alone—it seems clear that Aristotle viewed empirical data, gained through observation, as the starting point for the formulation of scientific theories. 

 

In summary, GM can be formulated like this:  (1) the drift away from mythological explanations of reality, in favor of naturalistic explanations, and (2) The systematization and formalization of science: that is, the development of distinctive scientific disciplines and the articulation of the nature of science.  The Pre-Socratics got the ball rolling when they began to explain nature in terms of elements and first principles, and Aristotle made tremendous progress by unifying and expounding upon their work.  Furthermore, Aristotle’s definition of science—as a rational empirical activity—is still a viable definition of science.

The “Stillbirth” of Greek Science

  In spite of these tremendous achievements, Greek science, to coin a phrase by Stanley Jaki, “suffered an incredible stillbirth.”[43]  That is to say, Greek science lost momentum and ceased to develop into anything amounting to modern science.  According to David Lindberg, “most historians of ancient science [agree] that creative Greek science was on the wane, perhaps as early as 200 B.C. [and] certainly by A.D. 200.”[44]  As will be elucidated, the stillbirth of Greek science can be attributed to two major problems:  (1) the animistic quality of Greek metaphysics and (2) the infiltration of ANE religion in the Roman Empire.

The Problem of Greek Metaphysics.  The biggest hindrance facing Greek science was Greek metaphysics.  Unlike the Hebrews, who made a distinction between the creation and the creator, they believed that the universe itself was a divine organism.[45]  Ironically, though their search for “archë” or first-principles engendered the use of “naturalistic” explanations of terrestrial phenomena, the Pre-Socratics ultimately viewed their work as the attempt to understand the functioning of the divine organism.  One who discovered the primary element had uncovered the, “divine substance that determines and supports the development of the world.”[46]  Thus, the fundamental elements—earth, fire, water, air—were seen as divine in the eyes of the Pre-Socratic’s.

Plato’s doctrine of the eternal forms (ideas) made the situation worse.  According to Plato, matter was eternal, irrational and without form, until the demiurge (the divine creator), “injected reason (Ideas) into reason-less matter,” conforming it into a mirror of the forms.[47]  Yet, this “mirror” was an imperfect one, “because matter was stubborn stuff, capable of resisting the rational structure imparted by the Ideas.”[48]  Accordingly, the Greeks anticipated a certain level of ambiguity or vagueness in nature, and often, when empirical data did not fit well into their theories, rather than modify their beliefs, it was simply attributed to the fact that matter was imperfectly conformed to the image of the forms.[49]

While Aristotle largely rejected Plato’s conception of the forms—as being distinct from nature—and emphasized the importance of observation and the collection of empirical data, his view of the universe was not that dissimilar from the Pre-Socratics.  This is most obvious in his bifurcation of the terrestrial and the celestial realms; because Aristotle believed (as did most Greeks) the heavens were divine, he postulated that they operated on completely different principles than that of the earth. Within this framework, “it was impossible, in fact it would have been a sacrilege to assume that the motion of the moon and the fall of an apple were governed by the same law.”[50]

As should be evident, Greek metaphysics was not conducive to the formation of a robust natural science.  Each aspect of Greek metaphysics—the animistic picture of nature, the postulation of otherworldly ideas or forms, and the bifurcation of the terrestrial and the celestial realms–presents a unique hurdle for scientific development.  Firstly, if the essence of natural properties is divine, man cannot hope to come to a deeper understanding of the fundamental nature of the elements–this causes significant problems for chemistry.

Secondly, if nature is simply an imperfect copy of the forms (which represent true reality or being) one could not hope to come to a full understanding of how nature operates unless he could come into direct contact with the forms–this causes significant problems for every branch of the natural sciences.  Finally, if the celestial realm is made up of different laws and properties from that of the terrestrial, one could never explain the movement of the planets or the make-up of the stars–this causes major problems for astrophysics, cosmology, and astronomy. 

The Infiltration of ANE Mystery Religions.  Another problem facing Greek science (or, natural philosophy) was the rise of the Roman Empire and the infiltration of ANE mystery religions.  As was noted earlier, Greek science was on the wane during the Roman era; this is not to suggest it had completely died out, for it is evident that Greek science was still a, “vibrant force in the Roman Empire,” however, those persons actively involved in natural philosophy, “constituted a small group with relatively little influence.”[51]  Furthermore, there was very little creativity.  The majority of work being done was simply the preservation of knowledge they had gained from the Ancient Greek’s, rather than attempting to break new ground.”[52]

As the Roman Empire expanded, so did its interaction with religious ideas from the ANE.  The result of this intermixing of ideas was the introduction of various “mystery” religions into the Empire.[53]  Gradually, “the rational traditions of Greek science and philosophy [shifted] towards . . . theology, with an increasing emphasis on mysticism and magic.”[54] The mystery religions were incompatible with GM, because they relied on, “supernatural causation to explain natural phenomena.”[55]  In some cases, they taught renunciation of the physical world.  A prime example of this is Gnosticism, one of the most popular religious cults in the empire, which taught that the material world was fundamentally evil.[56]

The problem facing Greek science was invariably one of metaphysics:  both internally and externally.  Internally, Greek metaphysics allowed for the development of basic scientific methodology but ultimately stifled its growth into anything resembling modern science.  Externally, the influence of ANE mystery religions in the Roman Empire compounded the deficiencies of Greek metaphysics; making the situation even worse.  Consequentially, Greek science suffered an incredible stillbirth; but this is not where the story ends.  While Greek science had lost its momentum with the rise of the Roman Empire, there was one group particularly motivated to keep it alive: Christians.      

The Christian Synthesis

Early on, “Christian thinkers began to develop their own intellectual tradition to counter . . . pagan ideas, leading eventually to a Christian assimilation and development of Greek science.”[57]  Christian apologists, seeking to defend the faith from a barrage of intellectual attacks, often synthesized Greek science and philosophy (GM) with their inherited HM.  The synthesis of HM and GM, in its earliest conception, can be seen in the writings of the Christian philosopher Aristides (123-127):

They err who believe that the sky is a god. For we see that it revolves and moves by necessity and is compacted of many parts, being thence called the ordered universe (Kosmos). Now the universe is the construction of some designer; and that which has been constructed has a beginning and an end. And the sky with its luminaries moves by necessity. For the stars are carried along in array at fixed intervals from sign to sign, and, some setting, others rising, they traverse their courses in due season so as to mark off summers and winters, as it has been appointed for them by God; and obeying the inevitable necessity of their nature they transgress not their proper limits, keeping company with the heavenly order. Whence it is plain that the sky is not a god but rather a work of God.[58] 

In this selection, Aristides unifies the terrestrial and the celestial realms and adopts the teleological law of motion (that the heavenly bodies moved out of “necessity”) utilized by Aristotle.  As was explicated earlier, one of the chief problems belaying Greek metaphysics was its bifurcation of the terrestrial and the celestial.  As one can see, this was not an issue for Aristides because of his inherited HM.  As Stanley Jaki notes,

 

In the Bible even the heavens and the stars are on equal footing with muddy earth . . . Within the biblical world view it was ultimately possible to assume that the stars or planets and the earth are ruled by the same laws.  But it was not possible to do this within the world vision that dominated all ancient cultures.  In all of them the heavens were divine.[59]

Thanks to his inherited HM and training in GM, Aristides maintained a superior understanding of the heavens and established a trend that other Christian thinkers would follow.

 

Like Aristides, virtually all of the early Church Fathers—from Justin Martyr to Augustine—were well versed in Greek science and philosophy and utilized this knowledge to defend the Christian worldview.  More often than not, their critiques of Greek science (particularly in the realm of cosmology) led to a more accurate picture of the universe.  For example, the Cappadocian Father, Basil the Great, challenged the popular notion of a cyclical, eternally existent universe; arguing, instead, that the universe, including time, began to exist,

Do not then imagine, O man! that the visible world is without a beginning; and because the celestial bodies move in a circular course, and it is difficult for our senses to define the point where the circle begins, do not believe that bodies impelled by a circular movement are, from their nature, without a beginning.[60]

Basil’s arguments utilized both his extensive knowledge of Greek cosmology and his inherited HM.  It is of significant note that modern science has substantiated his views on cosmology with the discovery of the Big Bang.

 

  One final example, illustrating the Christian synthesis, can be found in the work of John Philoponus—a Christian philosopher living in Alexandria during the sixth century.  Like Aristides, Philoponus dispensed with the Aristotelian model of the universe, which bifurcated between the terrestrial and celestial realms, and scrutinized the heavens on equal footing with the earth.  The resulting work was way ahead of his time:

[Philoponus] argued that different stars are of different colors, that difference of color implies variations in composition, that composition implies the possibility of decomposition and decay . . . [concluding] . . . that the heavens are no more exempt from decay than things in the terrestrial region . . . [furthermore] . . . he argued that the sun is composed of fire (a terrestrial substance) rather than a fifth celestial substance.[61]    

It is of significant note that Philopnus utilized methods similar to how modern scientists determine the elemental make up of stars today.  In any event, his groundbreaking observations would never have come to fruition where it not for his presupposed HM and implementation of GM. 

 In large part, the Christian synthesis helped Greek science to survive its incredible stillbirth and, “created a climate of thought which put men in a position to investigate the form of the universe.”[62]  This was especially true in the Middle Ages when Greek science was transformed into natural theology.”[63]

Natural Theology and the Scientific Revolution

Far from being a time of ignorance and superstition, the Middle Ages where a time of significant intellectual development.  It was during the Middle Ages that Europe saw the birth of its great universities—which placed particular emphasis on Greek science and philosophy—and witnessed the birth of a new class of, “theologian-natural philosophers.”[64]  As the universities introduced GM into medieval thought, many Christians came to the conclusion that the study of the natural world was an important theological pursuit.  As McGrath notes, “many of the greatest names in the world of medieval natural science . . . were all active theologians who did not see a contradiction between their faith and the investigation of the natural order.”[65]

Unbeknownst to some, medieval monasticism contributed to the foundations of experimental science.[66]   Like earlier Christian thinkers, the religious orders rejected Greek metaphysics—which viewed reality as a divine organism or an imperfect copy of the forms—in favor of HM.  Furthermore, there was a renewed interest in nature among many monks because of the life and writings of St. Francis of Assisi.  As Jaroslav Pelikan notes, “Francis of Assisi was responsible for the rediscovery of nature, and he introduced into medieval Christianity a positive enjoyment of the natural realm for which there were few precedents.”[67]  Accordingly, the friars of the Franciscan order made up some of the finest natural theologians of the Middle Ages—Robert Grosseteste, Roger Bacon, and William of Ockham.[68] 

Robert Grosseteste, the founder of the Franciscan school at Oxford, was among the first to stress the importance of experimentation:

[Grosseteste] recognized the gap in Aristotelian science between the intuitive leap from induction to universal definition and suggested that experiments are needed to verify or falsify inductive hypotheses.  [He argued that] through observation and experiment both definitions and deductions can be grounded in the material world.[69]

 Grosseteste ideas greatly influenced Roger Bacon and William of Ockham, who would follow in his footsteps.  For example, Roger Bacon made significant advances in the study of mathematics and light.  His experimentation with optics and observation of light led him to the discovery that, “light travels much faster than sound.”[70] 

 

With the creation of universities, and the establishment of numerous monastic orders, Natural Theologians-synthesizing Greek philosophy with their Christian beliefs—made significant scientific advances.  Carrying on in the tradition of the Early Church Fathers, Natural Theologians maintained a fervent devotion to the contemplation of God’s spectacular creation.  It was in this rich intellectual environment that the seeds were planted for the scientific revolution and the birth of modern science.[71]

A Shift in Thought

It has been demonstrated from history that the Judeo-Christian worldview provided the crucial philosophical assumptions needed for science to grow and flourish in western civilization.  Far from being in a state of constant conflict, Christianity and science have walked hand in hand.  Yet, paradoxically, the Judeo-Christian worldview has been rejected by the majority of modern scientists and philosophers, in favor of a naturalistic worldview.  According to Barry Stroud, “most philosophers for at least one hundred years have been naturalists in the nonsupernaturalist sense.  They have taken it for granted that any satisfactory account of how human belief and knowledge…are possible will involve only processes and events of the intelligible natural [i.e. physical] world.”[72] 

It stands to reason; if the Judeo-Christian worldview is no longer relevant–as a philosophical basis for science—then naturalism must be able to sustain the basic philosophical assumptions needed to justify science.  The question, then, is this: does naturalism, in and of itself (without borrowing from the Judeo-Christian worldview) provide the necessary assumptions?  Is naturalism a suitable basis for science?  The following portion seeks to answer these questions. 

The Argument from Philosophy

“According to naturalism, what is ultimately real is nature, which [solely] consists of the fundamental particles that make up what we call matter and energy, together with the natural laws that govern how those particles behave.”[73]  This section seeks to show that naturalism fails as a plausible basis for science and demonstrates how scientists still rely upon assumptions grounded in the Judeo-Christian worldview to justify their work.  It begins by (1) providing a basic understanding of the nature of science, followed by (2) a demonstration of naturalisms utter failure to provide the philosophical assumptions needed to justify science, and ends by (3) showing how the Judeo-Christian worldview, in contast, does provide such justification.

The Nature of Science

Pinning down a satisfactory definition of science is the subject of much debate among philosophers.  In the words of John Ziman, “To answer the question ‘What is Science?’ is almost as presumptuous as to try to state the meaning of Life itself.”[74]  It is beyond the limit and scope of this paper to attempt a comprehensive answer to the question of the nature of science; such a question requires more attention than can be given.  Nevertheless, for the sake of clarity and argument, a basic understanding of the nature of science is required.  While there is not a standard accepted definition of science, one can identify the basic properties or characteristics of science.[75]  Hence, the goal of this section is simply to (1) identify and explain two key properties of science (empirical activity and inductive reasoning) and (2) specify which basic assumptions about the nature of reality are needed to justify these properties.   

Approaching a Definition:  Two Key Properties of Science

For the sake of argument, the author has decided to employ the following definition of science:  “Science is an empirical inductive method for obtaining knowledge about the world.”[76]  It is readily acknowledged that this definition of science, in and of itself, is not sufficient; however, this was not the impetus for selecting it.  In spite of its deficiency, this definition contains two of the key properties or characteristics of science which virtually everyone accepts:  empirical activity and inductive reasoning.  It is upon these two properties that one can build a basic understanding of the nature of science.  To clarify this point, this section will outline precisely what these properties entail.

Empirical Activity.  According to Del Ratzsch, “a genuine science must be in tune with facts, and we get in touch with most of the relevant facts by experience, by observation, by the senses—in short, by empirical processes.”[77]  Here so defined, an empirical activity is one in which the senses are utilized—through observation and experimentation–to gain knowledge about the world.  This characterization of science–that it involves empirical activities or methods–assumes several important things about the nature of reality. 

First, it assumes that minds exist and are capable of obtaining knowledge of the external world; in other words that our cognitive faculties are so attuned to reality as to attain truth.  Second, it assumes that nature is “understandable,” or rationally organized; otherwise there would be no motivation to study it.[78]  For who would bother studying that which is by nature incomprehensible?  Finally, it assumes the uniformity of nature; that the, “processes and patterns that we see on only a limited scale . . . hold universally.”[79]  To pull a historical example: modern science rejects the Aristotelian bifurcation of the terrestrial and the celestial realms, because it conceives of nature as a regular unified whole.  Were this not assumed, there would be, “no reason to think that laboratory events observed here and now could tell us about processes in the interior of distant stars far in the past.”[80]

Inductive Reasoning.  Inductive reasoning works from the bottom up; that is, it begins with particulars (a man or several men) and concludes with a universal principle (mankind).  John Ziman explains the principle of induction in science as such:  “That what has been seen to happen a great many times is almost sure to happen invariably and may be treated as a basic fact or Law upon which a firm structure of theory can be erected.”[81]  So understood, inductive reasoning is the logical impetus behind the development of scientific theories and laws. 

Like empirical activity, inductive reason assumes the same metaphysical truths:  that rational minds exist, “that the universe is intelligible and not capricious, that the mind and senses inform us about reality, that mathematics and language can be applied to the world . . [and] . . . that there is uniformity in nature.”[82]  It is of special note that both empirical activity and inductive reason require the same essential philosophical presuppositions;   (1) that conscious minds exist and (2) that they are capable of obtaining knowledge.  As the following section will explain, naturalism completely fails to justify these necessary philosophical presuppositions. 

Naturalisms Incredible Failure

If science is an empirical inductive method for obtaining knowledge and if naturalism is a suitable basis for science, naturalism must: (1) provide a satisfactory theory of conscious intelligence (i.e. minds), and (2) substantiate the claim that humans are capable of obtaining knowledge.  Put another way, empirical inductive methods assume the existence of conscious human minds and that these minds are capable of obtaining knowledge of the external world—therefore, naturalism is obliged to provide an adequate basis for these beliefs. 

If it can be proved that naturalism fails to provide an adequate explanation of conscious intelligence and knowledge, then naturalism is not a sufficient philosophical basis for science.  With that being said, let the investigation begin with the issue conscious intelligence. 

The Problem of Conscious Intelligence

Science, as an empirical inductive methodology, is not pursued by non-conscious artificial intelligence.  Scientists, those who “do” science, are conscious, rational agents (i.e. human beings).  Consequentially, the naturalistic worldview must provide an explanation of the existence of conscious intelligence (i.e. the mind) to remain a viable metaphysical basis for science.[83]  This section addressees the problem of conscious intelligence, which can be formulated like this:

(1) Science is built upon empirical inductive methods.

(2) Empirical inductive methods assume the existence of conscious intelligence (i.e. minds).

(3) Naturalism fails to produce an adequate theory of conscious intelligence.

(4) Therefore, naturalism is not a viable metaphysical basis for science.

 Since the truth of the first two premises has already been established; the goal in this section is to defend the truth of premise (3) in an effort to secure the conclusion in premise (4). 

 

Naturalism and Consciousness

Premise (3) states that, naturalism fails to produce an adequate theory of conscious intelligence; virtually every major philosopher, whether they like or not, recognizes the truth of this assertion.  Naturalistic explanations of the mind are marred by one significant problem:  they have failed, thus far, to explain one of the most fundamental aspects of human existence–consciousness.  Thomas Nagel explains:

We do not at present have even the outline of an adequate theory of the place of mind in the natural order  . . . we have increasing knowledge of a fascinating character about the physical conditions of particular types of conscious states, but these correlations, even if substantially multiplied, do not amount to a general explanatory theory.[84]      

Colin McGinn echoes these sentiments in his book, The Problem of Consciousness, “We know that brains are the de facto causal basis of consciousness, but we have, it seems, no understanding whatever of how this can be so.  It strikes us as miraculous, eerie, even faintly comic.”[85]  Finally, David Chalmers suggests that consciousness is, “the largest outstanding obstacle in our quest for a scientific understanding of the universe.” [86] 

The problem of consciousness is so significant, that any attempt to explain the mind which attempts to redefine or eliminate consciousness is severely lacking and does not take the issue seriously.[87]  Consciousness simply can’t be ignored or brushed aside; it demands an explanation.  To their great detriment, naturalistic theories of the mind are notorious for their inability to take consciousness seriously.  However, before critiquing the prevailing naturalistic attempts to explain the mind one must understand what philosophers mean by consciousness.  Consequentially, a brief definition is in order.

Consciousness.  In his book, The Conscious Mind, David Chalmers catalogs a host of conscious experiences—visual experiences, auditory experiences, tactile experiences, olfactory experiences (smell), taste experiences, pain, mental imagery, emotions, the sense of self.[88]  The common thread uniting each of these various experiences is that they are all first person and subjective to the individual.  Hence, when a philosopher or scientist speaks of consciousness, he is referring to the, “subjective quality of experience,” or what it, “feels like to be a cognitive agent.”[89]

   Conscious agents are beings with representations of their own goals and representations of the means by which to achieve them; that is, beings whose actions are best explained by means of intentionality–their desires and beliefs.[90]  Representations of goals (desires) and means (beliefs) are always in the first-person, as Angus Menuge explains, “As an agent . . . when I want a beer and believe there is one in the refrigerator, it is significant that I do not merely represent beer and opening the refrigerator but that I represent my having a beer by my opening the refrigerator.”[91]  This subjective quality, the uniqueness of what it means to be an agent, is what is meant by consciousness. 

While conscious mental events are closely correlated to physical events—which can be described in terms of chemistry and physics—they are not the same thing,

Physical events and properties do not have the same features that hold for mental events and properties.  One’s thoughts, feelings of pain or sensory experiences do not have any weight, are not located anywhere in space (one’s thought of lunch cannot be closer to one’s right ear than one’s left one), are not composed of chemicals, and do not have electrical properties.[92] 

For obvious reasons, these facts make explaining consciousness notoriously difficult for naturalists–who only acknowledge the existence of material or physical properties.  How does one account for properties which, seemingly, defy all physical explanation?  For the most part, naturalists don’t; naturalistic explanations of the mind either wrongly explain consciousness in terms of physical events or outright deny the existence of such states.

 

Naturalistic Accounts of Consciousness.  Most naturalists readily admit there is no adequate physical explanation of consciousness.  However, they dogmatically reject any theory of consciousness which posits mental states as being immaterial (in other words, the idea that human beings have a soul.)  John McGinn states this quite clearly—representing the majority view of philosophers and scientists today—“Resolutely shunning the supernatural, I think it is undeniable that it must be in virtue of some natural property of the brain that organisms are conscious.  There just has to be some [materialistic] explanation for how brains subserve minds.”[93]  In others words, although scientists and philosophers are at a total loss—when it comes to explaining consciousness in terms of physical processes—McGinn refuses to accept any other method of explanation.

Those philosophers and scientists holding out for a materialistic explanation of consciousness generally believe it exists; however, there are some, who do not.   Known as eliminative materialists, these philosophers deny that consciousness—as explained above—exists.  Paul Churchland, a leading advocate of this view, says that,

Folk psychology [the view of consciousness expounded above] is not just an incomplete representation of our inner natures; it is an outright misrepresentation of our internal states and activities.  Consequentially, we cannot expect a truly adequate neuroscientific account of our inner lives to provide theoretical categories that match up nicely with the categories of our common-sense framework.  Accordingly, we must expect that the older framework will simply be eliminated, rather than be reduced, by a matured neuroscience.[94]     

In other words—consciousness is simply an illusion and as such should be discarded.  Eliminativists try to skate past the problem of consciousness by eliminating it as an issue; however this prospect is unacceptable.

 

As David Chalmers asserts, “some say that consciousness is an “illusion,” but I have little idea what this could mean.  It seems to me that we are surer of the existence of conscious experience than we are of anything else in the world.”[95]  As such, the problem of consciousness is a major setback for the naturalist attempting to accurately explain the mind.  As it seems, premise (3) is in fact true:  naturalism fails to produce an adequate theory of conscious intelligence.  Hence, the conclusion in premise (4) is both logically valid and sound:  naturalism is not a viable metaphysical basis for science.  However, this is only the first of problems facing the naturalistic worldview—the following is even more profound.

The Epistemological Problem

Science, as an empirical inductive methodology, assumes that human minds are capable of obtaining knowledge of the world.[96]  If obtaining knowledge was impossible, science would be utterly futile.  As C. S. Lewis noted,

No account of the universe can be true unless that account leaves it possible for our thinking to be a real insight.  A theory which explained everything else in the whole universe but which made it impossible to believe that our thinking was valid, would be utterly out of court.[97]

Consequentially, very few naturalists are skeptics, in that they doubt man’s ability to arrive at truth.  This being the case, it is of fundamental importance that naturalist’s provide adequate grounds for believing man can arrive at truth.  This section addresses the epistemological problem, which can be formulated like this:

(1) Science is built upon empirical inductive methods.

(2) Empirical inductive methods assume that man can arrive at the truth (i.e. obtain knowledge).

(3)  Naturalism does not insure man can arrive at the truth (i.e. obtain knowledge).

(4) Therefore, naturalism is not a viable epistemological basis for science.        

Since the truth of the first two premises has already been established; the goal in this section is to defend the truth of premise (3) in an effort to secure the conclusion in premise (4).  

 

Naturalism and Epistemology

C. S. Lewis was one of the first Christian philosophers to critique naturalistic epistemology.  In his book, Miracles, he states,

Anything which professes to explain our reasoning fully without introducing an act of knowing thus solely determined by what is known, is really a theory that there is not reasoning.  But this, as it seems to me, is what Naturalism is bound to do.[98]

As the book progresses Lewis argues that, given naturalism, human beings have no reason to believe that they can obtain truth.  Since the writing of Miracles, theistic philosophers have put forth sophisticated arguments bolstering Lewis’ position.  The two most substantial arguments come from Dallas Willard and Alvin Plantinga.  This section will briefly summarize their arguments against naturalism in order to secure the truth of premise (3).

 

The Representational Argument against Naturalism.  Willard’s argument rests upon two pillars: the first being that naturalists adhere to a correspondence theory of truth, and the second that naturalists believe only physical properties and relations exist.  The first pillar deals with the most widely accepted view of truth among scientists.  In its most basic formulation, the correspondence theory of truth states, “that a proposition (sentence, or representation of one’s desires or beliefs) is true just in case it corresponds to reality, when what it asserts to be the case is the case.”[99]  In other words, one’s belief that an apple is red is true if and only if it is the case that the apple is red—thus one’s representation is true when it is in alignment with or correspondent to objective reality.

The second pillar states that naturalists believe only physical properties and relations exist.  Since mental states or “representations” are clearly nonphysical properties, according to the naturalistic worldview they do not exist; and herein lays the problem:

[if] the narrower naturalism [physicalism] admits only these properties [physical properties], then there are no representations in the world of the narrower naturalism.  Truth then disappears from that world, because in it no subject matter is represented; and hence it can never happen that something “is as it is represented or thought to be.”[100]     

If nonphysical mental states, such as representations of one’s desires and beliefs, do not exist, and if one adheres to a correspondence theory of truth—in which truth is defined by one’s representations corresponding to reality—then truth does not exist.  Since truth is a necessary condition of knowledge, when truth disappears so does knowledge, “The ontological structure of knowledge cannot be present in the world of narrower naturalism.”[101]

 

   The only escape for the naturalist at this point is do deny one of the two pillars; however, doing so would be severely detrimental do his system.  For instance, if he where do deny that only physical properties and relations exist, he would essentially be refuting his own system—in this case naturalism still fails.  Conversely, if he denies adherence to a correspondence theory of truth, he rejects the only theory of truth compatible with science—rendering man’s ability to discover truth or facts about the real world extremely unlikely.  Left with no other alternative the naturalist must accept that his worldview suffers major epistemological problems; namely, it makes it impossible for human beings to obtain knowledge.

The Evolutionary Argument against Naturalism.  Plantinga’s argument takes an entirely different approach; while Willard’s dealt with nonphysical proprieties (such as representations of one’s desires and beliefs) and truth theories, Plantinga’s argument is concerned with what warrants or justifies a true belief and how this relates to the naturalistic picture of evolution.  To understand his argument one must first understand how Plantinga defines warrant:

A belief has warrant for some person just in case (“just in case” means “if and only if”) that belief was formed by cognitive faculties that are functioning properly and in accordance with a good design plan in a cognitive environment appropriate for the way those faculties were designed and when the design plan for our faculties is aimed at obtaining truth.[102]

Accepting this definition of warrant, the primary question becomes: do we have sufficient grounds to believe—given the naturalistic picture of evolution to be true—that the design plan for our cognitive faculties is aimed at obtaining truth? 

 

From the beginning this question hits the naturalist hard; for if naturalism is true there is no God or higher intelligence, “overseeing our development and orchestrating the course of our evolution.”[103]  This immediately leads one to ask the fundamental question: is it, “at all likely that our cognitive faculties, given naturalism and given their evolutionary origin, would have developed in such a way as to be reliable, to furnish us with mostly true beliefs[?]”[104]  The answer to this question is a resounding no.

Naturalistic evolution is primarily interested in adaptive behavior; that is, in the physical functioning or movement of the body which best ensures survival in any given environment: “it doesn’t care what you believe; it is interested only in how you behave.”[105]  As Plantinga explains,

[Natural Selection] selects for certain kinds of behavior: those that enhance fitness, which is a measure of the chances that one’s genes will be widely represented in the next and subsequent generations.  It doesn’t select for belief, except insofar as the latter is appropriately related to behavior.[106]

Hence, there is no reason to believe our cognitive faculties are specifically aimed at obtaining truth.  The blind watchmaker (natural selection) is only interested in the development of behavior which increases one’s chances of survival—whether or not one’s cognitive faculties obtain truth about reality is completely irrelevant.

 

Suppose, as some naturalists do, that one’s behavior is directly caused by one’s desires and beliefs—which are pathological and purely the result of evolutionary processes.[107]  The problem is clear, “there will be any number of different patterns of belief and desire that would issue in the same action; and among those there will be many in which the beliefs are wildly false.”[108]  In other words, one’s beliefs and desires do not have to be true in order to cause the correct behavior.  Plantinga uses the example of Paul, a “prehistoric hominid,” whose deadly jungle environment calls for him to exhibit “tiger-avoidance” behavior to ensure survival.[109]  Of the various behaviors Paul could employ to avoid being eaten by a tiger—fleeing, climbing up a steep rock face, jumping in a lake—there are a thousand possible belief-desire combinations to account for such behavior which are not necessarily true.[110]  As Plantinga explains,

Perhaps Paul very much likes the idea of being eaten, but whenever he sees a tiger, always runs off looking for a better prospect, because he thinks that it unlikely that the tiger he sees will eat him.  This will get his body parts in the right place so far as survival in concerned, without involving much by way of true belief . . . Or perhaps he thinks the tiger is a large, friendly, cuddly pussycat and wants to pet it; but he also believes that the best way to pet it is to run away from it . . . [111]

Like Willard’s argument Plantinga’s shows that, if naturalism is true, human beings have no reason to believe their cognitive faculties are aimed at obtaining truth; and since truth is a necessary condition for knowledge, the naturalistic worldview removes all possibility that humans can obtain knowledge.  As it seems, premise (3) is in fact true:  naturalism does not insure man can arrive at the truth (i.e. obtain knowledge).  Hence, the conclusion in premise (4) is both logically valid and sound:  naturalism is not a viable epistemological basis for science 

 

A Summation  

It has been proved that the naturalistic worldview is grossly inadequate as a philosophical basis for science.  If science is an empirical inductive method for obtaining knowledge naturalism must provide ample justification that conscious minds exist and that these minds are capable of obtaining knowledge of the external world.  However, naturalism fails to provide an adequate theory of the mind and fails to provide justification to the belief that man is capable of obtaining knowledge.  Hence, naturalism is not a sufficient philosophical basis for science.  On the other hand, if the Judeo-Christian worldview can be shown to provide the necessary metaphysical and epistemological assumptions needed for science, there is ample reason to call for its reestablishment as an accepted philosophical basis for science. 

The Sufficiency of the Judeo-Christian Worldview

 To begin with, one must deal with the problem of conscious intelligence—that conscious minds exist.  If the Judeo-Christian worldview is to be considered above naturalism as a philosophical basis for science it must be subjected to the same test; that is, it must sufficiently account for the existence of conscious intelligence.  With that being said, it is prudent to restate the seemingly nonphysical properties of mental states which befuddle naturalists.  J. P. Moreland identifies at least five:

1.  There is a raw qualitative feel or a “what it is like” to have a mental state such as a pain.

2.  At least many mental states have intentionality—oftness or aboutness—directed towards an object.

3. They are inner, private, and immediate to the subject having them.

4. They require a subjective ontology—namely, mental states are necessarily owned by the first person sentient subjects who have them.

5. They fail to have crucial features (e.g., spatial extension, location) that characterize physical states and, in general, cannot be described using physical language.[112]

Each of these properties provides a unique challenge to naturalistic explanations of the mind; and it has already been shown that naturalistic philosophers are at a total loss to explain these properties in materialistic terms.    

Given their inadequacy, naturalistic philosopher David Chalmers has rejected all of the major physicalist attempts to explain the mind.  As he explains it, the problems with physicalist explanations of the mind are not so much in the details but in there, “overall explanatory strategy.”[113]  Put quite simply, he states, “[physicalist] models and theories are simply not the sort of thing that would explain consciousness.”[114]  This, however, begs the question: what type of model or theory would be the sort of thing that could explain consciousness?

Chalmers’s answer is a form of “naturalistic” dualism known as property dualism which says that, “conscious experience involves properties of an individual that are not entailed by the physical properties of that individual, although they may depend lawfully on those properties.”[115]  In other words, he admits that consciousness is a nonphysical feature of the natural world but denies that it is an immaterial substance—asserting that nonphysical properties, such as mental states, depend completely upon physical laws.   However, this view seems muddled and confusing.  If a nonphysical mental state is not an immaterial substance, then what is it?

The best remaining option is that of substance dualism which holds that, “the brain is a physical object that has physical properties and the mind or soul is a mental substance that has mental properties.”[116]  According to substance dualism, there is a distinction between the mind—which is an immaterial substance—and the brain—which is a physical substance.  Each maintains their own unique properties while remaining highly interactive with one another.[117] 

Physicalists often object to substance dualism because they cannot perceive how a nonphysical substance—such as a mental state—could cause things to happen in the physical body.  However, “this objection assumes that if we do not know how A causes B, then it is not reasonable to believe that A causes B, especially if A and B are different.”[118]  This assumption is entirely unfounded.  There are numerous examples of things which scientists know cause other things without, “having any idea of how causation takes place, even when the two items are different.”[119] 

For example, scientists know that magnetic fields can move tracks, and that gravity acts upon planets millions of miles away, and that protons put forth a repulsive force on other particles, but they have no idea how these things happen.[120]  Similarly, it is possible for immaterial mental states to interact with the brain, but it is not necessary that one be able to explain how this works for him to recognize the causal connection.

In conclusion, “mental states [of the kind described above] are quite natural in a theistic worldview and have a higher prior probability given theism over against naturalism.”[121]  Given the nonphysical quality of mental states and that substance dualism is the best possible explanation of those qualities, the Judeo-Christian worldview (which assumes substance dualism) stands as a much better explanation of conscious intelligence than naturalism.  Hence, on this account, the Judeo-Christian worldview passes with flying colors.  All that remains is to show how the Judeo-Christian worldview solves the epistemological problem.

The Judeo-Christian Worldview and Epistemology.  The Judeo-Christian worldview satisfies the requirements for knowledge in every way.  First, as was just argued, the Judeo-Christian worldview recognizes the existence of nonphysical mental states, such as representations of one’s desires and beliefs; therefore, the Judeo-Christian worldview is perfectly compatible with a correspondence theory of truth.  Second, according to the Judeo-Christian worldview, human beings—and their cognitive faculties—were specifically designed by God for this particular environment and aimed at obtaining truth.[122]   Hence, unlike the naturalist, the theistic position sustains warranted (or justified) true belief and is therefore justified in its assertion that human beings can obtain knowledge of the world.                           

  Conclusion

It has been demonstrated through historical and philosophical reasoning that naturalism is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for science.  Furthermore, the popular idea that Christianity and science are in a constant state of conflict–and somehow incompatible—has proved to be false.  To the contrary, it has been firmly established that the Judeo-Christian worldview provided the necessary metaphysical assumptions for Greek science to flourish in the Roman Empire, and was the impetus behind the scientific revolution.    

Upon careful philosophical analysis, it has also been established that the Judeo-Christian worldview is vastly superior to the naturalistic worldview as a basis for science.  Namely, because naturalism fails to provide adequate justification for the two key properties of science: empirical activity and inductive reasoning.  In light of its overwhelming success in history and its vast philosophical superiority, the time has come for the reestablishment of the Judeo-Christian worldview as a basis for science.        

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Schaeffer, Francis A. The Francis A. Schaeffer Trilogy. Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1990.

Barrett, Peter. Science and Theology since Copernicus. New York: T & T Clark International, 2004.

Beilby, James., ed. Naturalism Defeated?. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002.

Caro, Mario De, David Macarthur, ed. Naturalism in Question. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2004.

Chalmers, David J. The Conscious Mind:  In Search of a Fundamental Theory. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996.

Chappell, Dorothy F. and E. David Cook, eds. Not Just Science. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005.

Churchland, Paul M. Matter and Consciousness:  A Contemporary Introduction to the Philosophy of Mind. Cambridge: A Bradford Book MIT Press, 2001.

Craig, William Lane, J. P. Moreland, ed. Naturalism a Critical Analysis. New York: Routledge, 2000.

Davies, Paul. The Mind of God: A Scientific Basis for a Rational World. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2005.

Dembski, William A., Wayne J. Downs, Fr. Justin B. A. Frederick, ed. The Patristic Understanding of Creation. Riesel: Erasmus Press, 2008.

________., ed. Mere Creation:  Science, Faith & Intelligent Design. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 1998.

________., ed. Uncommon Dissent: Intellectuals Who Find Darwinism Unconvincing. Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004.

Ferngren, Gary B., ed. Science and Religion: A Historical Introduction. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002.

Grant, Edward. Science and Religion: From Aristotle to Copernicus. Westport: Greenwood Press, 2004.

Hill, Andrew E. and John H. Walton. A Survey of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000.

Hooykaas, R. Religion and the Rise of Modern Science. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1972.

Jaki, Stanley L. The Limits of a Limitless Science. Wilmington: ISI Books, 2000.

________. The Origin of Science and The Science of its Origin. South Bend: Regnery/Gateway Inc, 1978.

Johnson, Phillip E. Reason in the Balance. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1995.

Klemke, E. D., Robert Hollinger, A. David Kline, ed. Introductory Readings in the Philosophy of Science. Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1980.

Lewis, C. S. Miracles. New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996.

Lindeberg, Davied C., and Ronald L. Numbers, eds. God and Nature:  Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986.

Livingstone, David N., D. G. Hart, and Mark A. Noll, eds. Evangelicals and Science in Historical Perspective. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.

Mathews, Kenneth A. The New American Commentary. Edited by E. Ray Clendenen. Genesis 1-11:26. Mitchagan: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1996.

McGinn, Colin. The Problem of Consciouness:  Essays Towards a Resolution. Cambridge: Blackwell, 1991.

McGrath, Alister E. The Foundations of Dialogue In Science and Religion. Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 1998.

________. Science and Religion:  An Introduction. Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 1999.

Menuge, Angus. Agents Under Fire:  Materialism and the Rationality of Science. New York: Rowan & Littlefield Publishers, INC, 2004.

Mitchell, Craig Vincent. Charts of Philosophy and Philosophers. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007.

Moreland, J. P. Christianity and the Nature of Science:  A Philosophical Investigation. Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1989.

________. P., William Lane Craig. Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2003.

New Advent. “The Apology Of Aristides.” 2008. http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1012.htm. (accessed April 16, 2009).

 

Pearcey, Nancy R., and Charles B. Thaxton. The Soul of Science. Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1994.

Perry, Marvin, Myrna Chase, James R. Jacob, Margaret C. Jacob, Theodore H. Von Laue. Western Civilization: Ideas, Politics, and Society. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007.

Plantinga, Alvin. Warrant and Proper Function. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993.

Randall Jr., John Herman. Aristotle. New York: Columbia University Press, 1960.

Ratzsch, Del. Science and Its Limits. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2000.

Sedley, David, ed. The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Philosophy. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003.

Sennett, James F., Douglas Groothuis, ed. In Defense of Natural Theology. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2005.

Warner, Richard, Tadeusz Szubka, ed. The Mind Body Problem:  A Guide to the Current Debate. Cambridge: Blackwell, 1994.

 

 

 

 

---

[1]C. S. Lewis, Miracles (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), 2.

[2]Phillip E. Johnson, Reason in the Balance (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1995), 38.  In this paper, the terms naturalism or metaphysical naturalism, unless otherwise noted, are used to denote a materialist or physicalist view of reality in which all things can be explained in terms of chemistry and physics; Essentially, the view that there is nothing beyond the physical or material world. 

[3]William A. Dembski, ed., Uncommon Dissent: Intellectuals Who Find Darwinism Unconvincing (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004), 24.

[4]Ibid., 36.

[5]Quoted by Nancy R. Pearcey and Charles B. Thaxton, The Soul of Science (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1994), 21.

[6]Alister E. McGrath, The Foundations of Dialogue In Science and Religion (Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 1998), 20.

[7]Ibid.

[8]Davied C. Lindeberg and Ronald L. Numbers, eds., God and Nature:  Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), 1.

[9]Ibid., 3.

[10]Ferngren, Science and Religion, 15.

[11]Ibid., 14.

[12]Dorothy F. Chappell and E. David Cook, eds., Not Just Science (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005), 27-28.

[13]Peter Barrett, Science and Theology since Copernicus (New York: T & T Clark International, 2004), 134.

[14]Gary B. Ferngren, ed., Science and Religion: A Historical Introduction (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002), ix.

[15]Ibid., ix.

[16]Lindeberg, God and Nature, 3-4.

[17]Ferngren, Science and Religion, ix.

[18]David N. Livingstone, D. G. Hart, and Mark A. Noll, eds., Evangelicals and Science in Historical Perspective (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 3.

[19]Pearcey, The Soul of Science, 18.

[20]McGrath, The Foundations of Dialogue in Science and Religion, 22.

[21]See especially his best-selling book The God Delusion.

[22]Ibid., 26.

[23]Alister E. McGrath, Science and Religion: An Introduction (Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 1999), 3.

[24]Marvin Perry et al., Western Civilization: Ideas, Politics, and Society (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007), 38.

[25]Ibid.

[26]Andrew E. Hill and John H. Walton, A Survey of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 68.

[27]Ibid.

[28]Perry, Western Civilization, 38.

[29]Jeremiah 10:12 ESV.

[30] Kenneth A. Mathews, The New American Commentary, ed. E. Ray Clendenen, Genesis 1-11:26 (Michigan: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1996), 129.

[31]Ibid.,61.

[32]R. Hooykaas, Religion and the Rise of Modern Science (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1972), 9.

[33]Stanley L. Jaki, The Limits of a Limitless Science (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2000), 49.

[34]David Sedley, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Philosophy (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 271.

[35]Ibid., 271.

[36]Edward Grant, Science and Religion: From Aristotle to Copernicus (Westport: Greenwood Press, 2004), 57.  Naturalistic, in this case, is not referring to metaphysical naturalism; rather, it is denoting a methodology of describing how things in the world work by employing material causes and effects.

[37]Ibid., 60. 

[38]Sedley, The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Philosophy, 276.

[39]Ibid., 277.

[40]Ibid., 286.

[41]John Herman Randall Jr., Aristotle (New York: Columbia University Press, 1960), 34.

[42]Ibid., 35.

[43]Jaki, The Limits of a Limitless Science,49.

[44]Ferngren, Science and Religion, 30.

[45]Hooykaas, Religion and the Rise of Modern Science, 1.

[46]Ibid., 3.

[47]Pearcey, The Soul of Science, 27.

[48]Ibid., 27.

[49]Ibid., 28.

[50]Jaki, The Limits of a Limitless Science,49.

[51]Ibid.

[52]Ibid., 88.

[53]Ibid., 97.

[54]Chappell, Not Just Science, 29.

[55]Ibid., 98.

[56]Ibid.

[57]Chappell, Not Just Science, 29.

[58]New Advent, 2008, “The Apology of Aristides,” http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1012.htm. (accessed April 16, 2009).  Emphasis added.

[59]Jaki, The Limits of a Limitless Science,49.

[60]William A. Dembski, Wayne J. Downs, Fr. Justin B. A. Frederick, ed., The Patristic Understanding of Creation (Riesel: Erasmus Press, 2008), 286.

[61]Lindeberg, God and Nature, 39.

[62] Francis A. Schaeffer, The Francis A. Schaeffer Trilogy (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1990), 225.

[63]McGrath, Science and Religion: An Introduction, 3.

[64]Ibid., 2.

[65]Ibid., 3.

[66] Chappell, Not Just Science, 33.

[67] Ibid., 35.

[68] Ibid., 36.

[69] Ibid.

[70] Perry, Western Civilization: Ideas, Politics, and Society, 262.

[71] Pearcey, The Soul of Science, 59-60.

[72]Mario De Caro, David Macarthur, ed., Naturalism in Question (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2004), 23.  By “intelligible natural world” he means, a closed system of purely physical causes and effects. 

[73] Johnson, Reason in the Balance, 37-38

[74]E. D. Klemke, Robert Hollinger, A. David Kline, ed., Introductory Readings in the Philosophy of Science (Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1980), 35.

[75]Del Ratzsch, Science and Its Limits (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2000), 11.

[76]Craig Vincent Mitchell, Charts of Philosophy and Philosophers (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 82.

[77]Ratzsch, Science and Its Limits, 13.

[78]Ibid., 14.

[79]Ibid.

[80]Ibid.

[81]Klemke, Introductory Readings in the Philosophy of Science, 37.

[82]J. P. Moreland, Christianity and the Nature of Science:  A Philosophical Investigation (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1989), 45.

[83]The reason I’m using the term conscious intelligence instead of mind is twofold:  (1) I wish to instill upon the reader that when we talk about rational minds engaging in scientific activity we are not discussing mechanical processes but conscious beings, and (2) I wish to drive home the fact that consciousness is the single biggest problem facing naturalistic explanations of the mind. 

[84]Richard Warner, Tadeusz Szubka, ed., The Mind Body Problem:  A Guide to the Current Debate (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1994), 64-65.

[85]Colin McGinn, The Problem of Consciousness:  Essays Towards a Resolution (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1991), 1.  Emphasis added.

[86]David J. Chalmers, The Conscious Mind:  In Search of a Fundamental Theory (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), xi.  Emphasis added.

[87]Ibid., xii.

[88]Ibid., 10.

[89]Ibid., 4.

[90]Angus Menuge, Agents Under Fire:  Materialism and the Rationality of Science (New York: Rowan & Littlefield Publishers, INC, 2004), 12.

[91]Ibid.

[92]J. P. Moreland, William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2003), 233.

[93]McGinn, The Problem of Consciousness, 6.  Emphasis added.

[94]Paul M. Churchland, Matter and Consciousness:  A Contemporary Introduction to the Philosophy of Mind (Cambridge: A Bradford Book MIT Press, 2001), 43.

[95]Chalmers, The Conscious Mind, xii. 

[96]Knowledge is defined in the classic sense as JTB: Justified, True, Belief. 

[97]Lewis, Miracles, 21.

[98]Ibid., 27.

[99]Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 135.

[100]William Lane Craig, J. P. Moreland, ed., Naturalism a Critical Analysis (New York: Routledge, 2000), 40.

[101]Ibid.

[102]Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 103.  Emphasis added.

[103]James Beilby, ed., Naturalism Defeated? (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002), 3.

[104]Ibid.

[105]Ibid., 4.

[106]Ibid.

[107] Some naturalistic understandings of the mind do allow for the existence of desires and beliefs.  However, they do not believe one can have representations of desires and beliefs which are nonmaterial; rather, they view them as pathological physical properties–built into our minds through evolution.

[108]Alvin Plantinga, Warrant and Proper Function (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 225.

[109]Ibid.

[110]Ibid.

[111]Ibid.

[112]James F. Sennett, Douglas Groothuis, ed., In Defense of Natural Theology (Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2005), 273.

[113]Chalmers, The Conscious Mind, 121. 

[114]Ibid.

[115]Ibid., 125.

[116]Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 232.

[117]Ibid.

[118]Ibid., 243.

[119]Ibid.

[120]Ibid.

[121]William A. Dembski, ed., Mere Creation:  Science, Faith & Intelligent Design (Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 1998), 284.

[122]Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 104.

A review of “Darwin and the Intelligent Design Brigade”

Paddy Shannon recently published an article in the Socialist Standard entitled, Darwin and the Intelligent Design Brigade, which was re-posted on RichardDawkins.net.  I found this article fascinating for several reasons: (1) It said virtually nothing about Intelligent Design, (2) its naive caricature of “religious people” and their motives was very imaginative, and (3) its diminutive attitude toward “religious people” is typical of the pseudo-intellectualism attached to the new Atheist movement.  Allow me to touch briefly on each of these points. 

(1) Yet again, the media produces an article with Intelligent Design in the title which says absolutely nothing about Intelligent Design (aside from suggesting an anti-ID documentary.)  Perhaps I’m being a little too picky, but, one would expect an article entitled, Darwin and the Intelligent Design Brigade, to at least say something about Intelligent Design.  This is yet another shining example of incompetent reporting on Intelligent Design. 

(2)  Shannon asserts that the motivation for “religious people’s” attacks on the theory of evolution is fear.  More specifically, a fear “that without God as first cause there really is no relevance to life.”  I wonder if she’s ever considered the possibility that “religious people” attack evolution because if God does not exist, “there really is no relevance to life.”  This is not simply an argument from fear, but an assertion of the facts.  If Darwinism is true, there is no purpose, design, intentionality, personality, or objectivity in nature; the philosophical implications of Darwinism are profound.  Perhaps religious people are afraid, but not due to their naivety; they are afraid of the disturbing implications of Darwinism in the realms of art, beauty, ethics, philosophy and every other meaningful human pursuit.  It is only wise for “religious people” to question the validity of such a worldview and to encourage its proponents to follow the logic of their system to its end. 

Of course, there is another reason “religious people” might challenge evolution which Shannon omits; because of the scientific evidence.  Perhaps Intelligent Design (of which she did very little actual reporting on) has laid some serious challenges at the feat of Neo-Darwinism and religious people are convinced of this evidence. 

(3)  Consider this quote, “At the same time it is possible to feel some compassion for the fear and the desperation these, mostly ignorant and uninformed, people have, confronted with a world they don’t understand and in which they feel utterly helpless. Science to them is gas chambers, nuclear bombs, death rays, spy satellites and mind control. Wild stories about Earth-eating black holes and ‘strangelets’ guaranteed front-page coverage worldwide for the switching on of the Large Hadron Collider, an event only normally of interest to particle physicists.”

This is my translation, “Awwww, look at the poor moronic, uneducated, imbeciles, they’re afraid because they just don’t understand.  We of the intellectual elite (i.e. Darwinists) should have compassion on them for their ignorance.”

It is true; there are millions of ignorant, uneducated people in the world.  Alas, many of these people are religious.  However, to presume that the Atheistic Darwinian perspective on life is only held by educated intellectuals (which this statement implies) is outrageous.  Perhaps Shannon has not actually read any of the modern critiques of Darwinism or looked at the credentials of their author’s.  This diminutive treatment of “religious people” is a gross stereotype of the worst kind.

Nietzsche’s Theory of Truth

“Supposing truth to be a woman,” Nietzsche famously asserted in the opening of his classic work Beyond Good and Evil.  For just as the “dogmatists” fail to understand women, says Nietzsche, so they fail to understand truth.[1]  Perhaps nothing has been more influential in shaping post-modern thought than the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche; but how does one classify Nietzsche’s theory of truth?  Is he a strict pragmatist, does he hold to a coherence theory, or can he be placed in any category at all?  This paper seeks to define and explain Nietzsche’s theory of truth while defending a correspondence view.  To accomplish this task it will (1) summarize the major theories of truth within traditional Philosophical thought, (2) determine Nietzsche’s theory of truth by comparing his thought to other truth theories, and (3) explain the problems with Nietzsche’s theory which necessitate its rejection. 

Philosophical Theories of Truth

Until the 20^th century philosophers subscribed to two primary theories of truth: correspondence and coherence.  However, due to growing problems in epistemology, linguistics, and other areas of study, the number of truth theories significantly increased.[2]  Today, there are a plethora of theories crowding the philosophical scene.  In the interest of time and space only a selection of these theories will be surveyed.

The Correspondence Theory of Truth

The correspondence theory of truth is often traced to Plato’s classic works Theaetetus and Sophist, and has a long list of adherents, including: Aristotle, the Stoics, various medieval philosophers, Descartes, Locke, Hume, Moore, and Russell.[3]  However, it can be argued that correspondence was assumed by writers predating the works of Plato.  For instance, William Lane Craig and J. P. Moreland argue that the Bible, while not explicitly articulating a correspondence theory of truth, “regularly presupposes” such a theory.[4]  Therefore, it can safely be said that the correspondence theory of truth, “is both the commonsense view and the classic position embraced by virtually all philosophers until the nineteenth century.[5]

In its most basic form, the correspondence theory states that, “a proposition is true just in case it corresponds to facts or the world.”[6]  In other words, a proposition is true if, and only if, it “corresponds” to reality.  Thus, it presupposes realism; that truth is absolute or objective; that, “people discover truth, they do not create it, and [that] a claim is made true or false in some way or another by reality itself, totally independent of whether the claim is accepted by anyone.”[7]  In this system man is not the, “measure of all things,” as Protagoras famously stated; but asserts there is a concrete reality which can be discovered and understood by man.   

The Coherence Theory of Truth

 In the 19^th century a new theory of truth began to take shape.  Espoused by the continental rationalists, J. G. Fichte, G. W. F. Hegel, F. H. Bradley, and other well known thinkers, the coherence theory approached truth from a completely different angle.  Contrary to the pre-modern view of correspondence, the coherence theory was predicated on antirealism and nominilism.   Nominilism rejects the existence of “universals” or “forms” and says that only concrete particulars exist.[8]  Thus, discovering the truth of a proposition was relegated to the realm of epistemology; more specifically rationalism.

 Simply put, the coherence theory states that, “a true proposition is one that belongs to some designated coherent set of propositions.”[9]  However, these propositions or “beliefs” do not necessarily have anything to do with reality.[10]  Thus, one’s system of belief could be the product of their imagination, and this would not be a problem; what matters is whether it is coherent. 

By “coherent” it is generally meant:  “(1) [that] each member of the set [i.e. proposition] is consistent with any subset of the others and (2) [that] each is implied (inductively if not deductively) by all of the others taken as premises.”[11]  Essentially, a coherence theory of truth is a circular chain of propositions which may or may not actually represent reality.  In addition, it must contain no contradictions within itself, that is, each proposition within one’s belief system must entail the other.  However, this is not to say that one’s “coherent” system of belief will not contradict another’s.  In this sense, truth is relative, varying from person to person, because it is not based upon any absolute standard; rather, it is based upon the coherence or consistency of one’s thought.     

The Pragmatic Theory of Truth

From the mid-19^th century and into the 20^th the pragmatic theory of truth also began to take shape.  Like the coherence theory, pragmatism is predicated upon nominilism and antirealism.  Early proponents of this view include, Charles Sanders Peirce, William James, and John Dewey.[12]  Currently, the most notable adherents are Hilary Putnam and Richard Rorty.”[13]

The pragmatic theory is quite simple to understand, “[it] implies that a belief P is true if and only if P works or is useful to have.  P is true just in case P exhibits certain values for those who accept it.”[14]  In this sense the pragmatic theory of truth is very practical; built upon utility, as opposed to objectivity.  It is also relativistic, “Pragmatism . . . must be formulated relativistically, since whether it is useful to believe a proposition evidently varies from one believer to another.”[15] 

Postmodern Theories of Truth

Postmodern Theories of truth can be broken down into three basic categories:  Phenomenological, Structural, and Pragmatic.[16]  Do to the constraints of this paper, only a broad survey will be made about postmodernisms overall view of truth; there will not be an in-depth presentation of each of these theories.  However, it is difficult to confine the movement to any one set of truth theories anyways.  A postmodern philosopher may also utilize coherence or pragmatic theories of truth, or some modified form of them, if he so desires.[17]  That being the case, it is difficult to describe attributes of postmodern thought with any level of certainty. 

What can be said with certainty is that postmodernists reject the correspondence theory of truth.[18]  In their view, “truth is relative to a linguistic community that shares the same narrative.”  In other words, truth is determined by one’s community (i.e. culture, language, social environment).  This may be represented by any one of the afore mentioned theories, as long as they are consistent with a subjective view of reality. 

Like the coherent and pragmatic theories, postmodern theories are built upon antirealism and nominalism.  Even more foundational, is their rejection of absolutes or dichotomous thinking.  Dichotomous thinking occurs when, “someone divides a range of phenomena into two groups and goes on to claim that one is better than the other.”[19]  Examples of dichotomous thinking include distinctions between good and bad, right and wrong, or true and false.

Nietzsche’s Theory of Truth

Now that the primary theories of truth have been defined, we can properly asses Nietzsche’s interpretation of truth.  Whether it is possible to ascribe to Nietzsche a specific theory of truth remains to be seen; for, in his own writings he “vacillates between the denial of truth and its affirmation.”[20]  However, for the sake of clarity, it must be attempted.  Consequentially, this section will attempt to synthesize Nietzsche’s thought with each theory of truth; eliminating each one that fails to adequately conform to his views. 

Nietzsche and the Correspondence Theory

Traditionally, interpreters ascribed to Nietzsche the classic view of truth as “correspondence to reality,” believing that his own views were true in a correspondence sense.[21]  There are several important advocates of this interpretation; however, only two will be examined in this paper:  Kaufmann and Wilcox. 

“Kaufmann’s strategy . . . [was] . . . to show that the contradiction in Nietzsche’s position is merely apparent, that Nietzsche does not deny the existence of truth, and that he does not put forward any metaphysical theories.”[22]  He argued that Nietzsche did not reject the existence of empirical truth but merely certain interpretations of it.  For instance, Kaufmann explained Nietzsche’s apparent denial of truth, “as a denial of . . . [the] eternal world of the Platonic forms or the Kantian thing-in-itself.”[23]  Further, he argued that Nietzsche only denied metaphysical statements of truth, but acknowledged the existence of empirical truth.  For instance, Kaufmann maintained that Nietzsche’s own doctrines of “eternal recurrence” and “will to power” were put forth as “empirical truths.”[24]   

Kaufmann’s interpretation was later advanced, with slight modifications, by John T. Wilcox.  Like Kaufmann, Wilcox recognized the apparent contradiction in Nietzsche’s thought, namely that it appeared as though Nietzsche both affirmed and denied the existence of truth.  To address this problem, Wilcox had to make a distinction between the type of truth that Nietzsche rejected and the type of truth that Nietzsche affirmed.   

Whether or not there is a contradiction depends upon whether “truth” is used in the same sense when Nietzsche writes in these two ways, upon whether the “truth” whose possibility he rejects is the same “truth” that he criticizes the Christian for refusing to face.  And it is fairly clear that they are not the same.  Nietzsche rejects transcendent truth; but he believes in perspectival truth and hopes for a kind of man who can live in that truth.[25]   

Wilcox, like Kaufmann, maintained that Nietzsche primarily rejected “metaphysical truths” but accepted the existence of empirical truth.  However, he hastened to point out that the type of empirical truth Nietzsche accepted did not have the “status” that Kant maintained for science.  Thus, Nietzsche rejected the type of empirical truth, founded upon a priori knowledge, which Kant attempted to prove, believing, instead, that empirical truth was grounded in the individual.[26] 

            According to Wilcox, Nietzsche’s brand of truth was, “this-worldly, fallible, hypothetical, perspectival, value-laden, historically developed, and simplifying truth.”[27]  In other words, truth was based upon reality, and the reality was that truth was interpreted differently by each individual’s senses.  In his mind, Wilcox saw no contradiction between Nietzsche’s “advocacy” of perspectival truth and his rejection of absolute or “transcendent” truth.[28]

Recently, however, Maudemarie Clark challenged the traditional interpretation of Nietzsche’s theory of truth.  Clark notes, “if one interprets will to power . . . in traditional terms – as straightforward claims about the nature of reality, as claims that are supposed to correspond to reality – it seems implausible to deny their metaphysical character.”[29]  In other words, to accept this interpretation of Nietzsche’s theory leads one into contradictory thinking. 

To argue that Nietzsche rejected metaphysical truths but also to maintain that he accepted certain “empirical truths” which “correspond to reality” is to ignore the problem of absolutes.  That is, to ignore that fact that metaphysical truths are generally considered “absolute” or “universal” truths about the nature of reality.  If Nietzsche believes that certain empirical truths “correspond to reality” he, by definition, accepts that an absolute “reality” exists.[30]  This would make him a metaphysical realist, in which case he would maintain that both universals and particulars exist. 

Nietzsche, however, is clearly not a metaphysical realist

Indeed, what compels us to assume there exists any essential antithesis between ‘true’ and ‘false’?  Is it not enough to suppose grades of apparentness and as it were lighter and darker shades and tones of appearance . . . why could the world which is of any concern to us – not be fiction?[31]

  For, as both Kaufmann and Wilcox affirm, he denies the existence of metaphysical truths and by doing this rejects the notion of universals.  Hence, to accept this interpretation of Nietzsche is untenable. 

Nietzsche and Coherent/Pragmatic Theories of Truth

  If Nietzsche’s theory of truth is not based upon correspondence, then perhaps a coherent or pragmatic theory best describes his thought.  After all, both of these theories are based upon antirealism and nominalism which are compatible with his worldview.  However, these are not the only two conditions which must be met in order to establish his theory of truth. 

Of the two systems, it is harder to argue that Nietzsche held to a coherent theory of truth.  As we have seen, there is debate as to whether or not Nietzsche’s view of truth is “coherent” at all; seeing as how he appears to, “make claims to metaphysical truth while at the same time rejecting all such claims.”[32]  Hence, it seems more profitable to examine the pragmatic theory of truth.

As was established above, the pragmatic theory states that a belief is true if, and only if, it “works” or is useful to the individual.[33]  In a sense, the pragmatist view of truth is not unlike the utilitarian’s view of morality.  A utilitarian gages what is right or wrong on the amount of pleasure or pain an action might confer upon him and those around him.  Similarly, the pragmatist gages truth on the usefulness of a proposition.  In other words, if an idea “works” or seems useful to an individual it is true, but if it fails to achieve the desired result, it is false.  Thus, truth, for the pragmatist, is based upon utility; not objectivity. 

On a surface level this theory might seem to be compatible with Nietzsche because of its focus on the individual.  However, there are grave problems with this interpretation of Nietzsche’s thought.  Namely, the fact that Nietzsche despised utilitarianism,

This way of reasoning smells of the mob, which sees in bad behavior only its disagreeable consequences and actually judges ‘it is stupid to act badly’; while it takes ‘good’ without further ado to be identical with ‘useful and pleasant’.  In the case of every utilitarian morality one may conjecture in advance a similar origin and follow one’s nose . . .[34] 

Nietzsche challenged the idea that “usefulness” or “pleasantness” was equivalent to what was good or right, because what was useful or pleasant was determined by society.  Hence, utilitarianism was a form of the “herd” mentality of which he despised.

Similarly, pragmatism, with its assertion that truth is what “works” or “is useful to procuring happiness” carries with it the potential for “mob” mentality.  For, one is inevitably tied to a community, a culture which defines one’s ideas of happiness or usefulness.  One could conceivably believe that something is useful because everyone else believes it to be useful. 

Beyond this, however, lies a more serious objection, “why couldn’t a false belief make us happier than a true one?”[35]  Why couldn’t “untruth” be what works or what is useful to the individual?  “Nietzsche, in fact, insisted repeatedly that knowledge of the truth may conflict with the satisfaction of practical interests.”[36] 

Hence, upon a closer examination, the pragmatic theory of truth, despite its predication of antirealism and nominalism, and his semi-commitment to individualism, does not seem to be the perfect fit.  Of all the theories of truth, Nietzsche’s theory must fall somewhere within the realm of post-modern thought.

Nietzsche and Post-Modern Theories of Truth

  Post modern theories of truth completely reject the idea of absolute truth or objective reality.  As was noted above, post-modern theories of truth also reject dichotomous thinking, which makes distinctions between contrasting ideas (i.e. good/bad, right/wrong, truth/falsity).  Having abolished dichotomous thinking and having rejected the notion of absolute or objective reality, post-modern theories of truth, in the end, place truth upon the individual.  What is right or wrong, good or bad, true or untrue is ultimately a matter of one’s perspective. 

In his book, Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche ponders, “What really is it in us that wants ‘the truth’. . . why not rather untruth?  And uncertainty?  Even ignorance?”[37]  At the core of his philosophy is a deep and unbending skepticism.  Nietzsche questions our need for absolute truth by challenging its very existence.  Throughout all of his writings, he attempts to break down distinctions between right and wrong or truth and falsity, denying that such distinctions are valid . . . 

It is quite clear that the world is not good and not bad (to say nothing of its being the best or the worst), and that the terms “good” and ‘bad” have only significance with respect to man, and indeed perhaps, they are not justified even here in the way they are usually employed.[38]    

Upon reflection, one cannot help but notice that Nietzsche’s mode of thinking is entirely consistent with post-modern theories of truth. 

His emphasis on the perspective of the individual in interpreting reality is another key aspect of Nietzsche’s thought.  He believed that, “the essence of man-the sole form of cognitive life with which we are acquainted—has emerged in the course of universal becoming as a unique way of interpreting being.”[39]    In other words, the way in which man apprehends the world, by means of sense perception, is the consequence of the his intellect.  Thus, concluded Nietzsche, “every single kind of intellect must have its own way of understanding the world.”[40]  Consequentially, individualism, in the realm of truth and morality, is a key component of post-modern thought. 

Structuralist’s recognize that there are multiple truths (ways of viewing the world), and believe that truth is ultimately about power.[41]  This too, is compatible with Nietzsche; especially his doctrine of the “superman” and the idea of “will to power.”  It also fits well with his conception of a great philosopher; one who is a “free-spirit,” able to place himself beyond good and evil and create his own values.[42]

     While it may not be possible to attach Nietzsche’s view of truth to any one post-modern theory, it is apparent that Nietzsche’s theory of truth is best understood in light of post-modern ideology.  Everything from his rejection of absolute truth to his concept of the “superman” fits nicely within the post-modern framework. 

The Problem with Nietzsche’s Theory of Truth

This paper seeks to defend a correspondence theory of truth against Nietzsche’s post-modern critiques.  Instead of building a case for the correspondence theory as a defense, it will cut straight at the heart of Nietzsche’s philosophy, placing correspondence on the offensive line.  Now that Nietzsche’s theory of truth has been properly defined, this task will be much easier to accomplish.     

Nietzsche’s theory suffers from the same ailment that all post-modern theories of truth do: it is self refuting.  If absolute truth does not exist, if all perspectives and all interpretations of the world are equally valid, then truth is an empty term.  If truth is everything, then it is nothing; but this is precisely what Nietzsche’s rejection of dichotomous thinking accomplishes.  It bypasses the fundamental rules of logic; rendering any statement of value superfluous.

Although Nietzsche, and other post-modern thinkers still use the term “truth”, as if it carried with it some existential value, by their own definition truth does not exist.  Truth, by its very nature, is absolute; otherwise it is no truth at all.  Hence, by rejecting absolutes they reject truth and here in lies the problem:  their rejection of absolutes is itself an absolute.  Consider carefully, the proposition; “there is no truth.” For, is it not, in and of itself, a statement of truth?  Is not, such a proposition, itself and absolute statement about reality?

How, then, can anyone seriously consider such a problematic theory of truth?  A truth theory that rejects truth!  This is pure and unadulterated nonsense!  I summit that any system that fails to acknowledge the existence of objective reality or absolute truth is unlivable.  One can believe such nonsense in a theoretical realm, far removed from the day to day happenings of life, but in the real world, one must operate in accordance with a correspondence theory of truth.  All other systems simply break down.

               Conclusion

Upon examining most of the major theories of truth it becomes clear that Nietzsche is best described as a post-modern thinker.  His rejection of absolute truth and dichotomous thinking, and his aversion to metaphysical realism all play a major role in making this distinction.  However, it seems that no existing philosophical theory of truth perfectly aligns with Nietzsche’s thought.  So, in this sense, in can be said, that Nietzsche was truly an original thinker; far removed from the theorizing of his own day. 

Ultimately, despite attempts to claim otherwise, Nietzsche’s theory is a complete rejection of the correspondence theory of truth, and as such, is subject to enormous flaws.  In spite of his brilliance as a writer and thinker, Nietzsche’s theory of truth is inconsistent and contradictory; and consequentially must be rejected.   

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Clark, Maudemarie. Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995.

Clive, Geoffrey, ed. The Philosophy of Nietzsche. New York: Meridian, 1996.

Jaspers, Karl. Nietzsche. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1965.

Kirkham, Richard L. Theories of Truth. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1995.

Lanier, Anderson R. “Nietzsche on Truth, Illusion, and Redemption.” European Journal of Philosophy 13 (Aug 2005): 185-225.

Mitchell, Craig Vincent. Charts of Philosophy and Philosophers. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007.

Moreland, J. P., William Lane Craig. Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2003.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good and Evil. Translated by R. J. Hollingdale. London: Penguin Books, 2003.

Schmitt, Frederick F. Truth: A Primer. Boulder: Westview Press, 1995.

Wilcox, John T. Truth and Value in Nietzsche. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1974.

 

---

[1] Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, trans. R. J. Hollingdale (London: Penguin Books, 2003), 31.

[2] Craig Vincent Mitchell, Charts of Philosophy and Philosophers (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 21.

[3] Frederick F. Schmitt, Truth: A Primer (Boulder: Westview Press, 1995), 145.

[4] J. P. Moreland, William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2003), 131-132.

[5] Ibid.,132.

[6] Schmitt, 145.

[7] Moreland, 132.

[8] Mitchell, 7,10.

[9] Schmitt, 103.

[10] Mitchell, 22.

[11] Richard L. Kirkham, Theories of Truth (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1995), 104.

[12] Schmitt, 77.

[13] Moreland, 144.

[14] Ibid., 144.

[15] Schmitt, 79.

[16] Mitchell, 23.

[17] Moreland, 146.

[18] Ibid., 146.

[19] Ibid., 146.

[20] Anderson R. Lanier, “Nietzsche on Truth, Illusion, and Redemption,” European Journal of Philosophy 13 (Aug 2005): 185.

[21] Maudemarie Clark, Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 5.

[22] Ibid., 5.

[23] Ibid., 5.

[24] Ibid., 5.

[25] John T. Wilcox, Truth and Value in Nietzsche (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1974), 155.

[26] Ibid., 156.

[27] Ibid., 156.

[28] Ibid., 156.

[29] Clark, 6.

[30] Ibid., 40.

[31]  Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, 65-66.

[32] Clark, 4.

[33] Moreland, 144.

[34] Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, 113.

[35] Clark, 32.

[36] Ibid., 32.

[37] Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, 33.

[38] Geoffrey Clive, ed., The Philosophy of Nietzsche (New York: Meridian, 1996), 498.

[39] Karl Jaspers, Nietzsche (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1965), 185.

[40] Ibid., 185.

[41] Mitchell, 23.

[42] This is the primary theme of his book, Beyond Good and Evil.

Friedrich Schleiermacher and the Subjective Approach to Religious Studies

Introduction

Scholars in the first half of the twentieth century sought to answer the question of the historical origin of religion; today, however, most, “simply accept the existence of religion as a given part of our humanity,” employing what is known as the subjective approach to religious studies.[1]  The subjective approach bypasses the question of the historical origin of religion by centering its attention on man.    In other words, it understands religion to be an intrinsic part of what it means to be human and rejects the notion that it is the, “product of an encounter with an external reality.”[2]  Accordingly, the study of religion becomes the study of various expressions of man’s subconscious, non-rational thought. 

The subjective approach finds its beginnings in the mid-19^th century, in the writings of noted German theologian and philosopher, Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834).  Facing the criticisms of his day, Schleiermacher sought to defend religion from its “cultured despisers.”  His arguments redefined religion and mark the birth of liberal Protestantism.[3]  This paper seeks to define Schleiermacher’s understanding of religion, and explain how his thought has impacted modern scholarship.  To accomplish this goal, it will:  (1) provide a brief synopsis of his life and explain the times in which he lived, (2) outline his concept of religion, and (3) demonstrate the effects his ideas have had on modern religious thought.  

The Life and Times of Friedrich Schleiermacher

When examining complex ideas one should take the time to understand the context in which they were developed.  Hence, before analyzing Schleiermacher’s philosophy, one should acquaint himself with the man.  A brief look at his early life, academic career, and the cultural environment in which he lived and wrote is of inestimable value.

Early Education and Adult Life

Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher was born November 21, 1768 to Gottlieb and Katharina-Maria Schleiermacher.  His father was a second generation reformed clergyman, who served as a chaplain in the King of Prussia’s army during the Seven Year’s War.   In 1778 he and his family were exposed to the teachings of a Moravian community in Gnadenfrei, during which time Friedrich claims to have had his first, “conscious religious experience.”[4]  

In 1783 Schleiermacher entered the Moravian school in Niesky which had a profound and long lasting influence on his life.  While at Niesky, Schleiermacher immersed himself in Moravian life; growing in his knowledge of Jesus and enjoying the camaraderie of his fellow classmates.  He also received a modern humanistic education in which he studied Latin, Greek, and Hebrew and was introduced to the works of Homer, Sophocles, Euripides, Cicero, and other great thinkers.[5]   

In 1785, Schleiermacher was advanced to the Moravian seminary at Barby.  There, he was subjected to an almost monastic lifestyle.  The Moravian seminary stressed the importance of personal piety and separation from the world; as a result, “the reading of modern belles lettres and philosophy . . . was forbidden by strict censorship.”[6]  For, there was great suspicion of modern philosophical thought among the brethren; unfortunately, this frustrated Schleiermacher and other students who began to wonder if the objections made to faith by modern philosophy were too difficult to refute.[7]   Consequentially, Schleiermacher formed a secret society in which he and fellow classmates read Kant, Goethe, and other modern German writers.   Exposure to these writings lead Friedrich to have serious doubts about his faith; and he began to question Christian doctrines and beliefs.[8]    

Growing increasingly unhappy with his situation at Barby, Schleiermacher eventually transferred to the more liberal University of Halle.  There he continued in his studies in theology, philosophy, and philology in a more congenial setting.[9]  While at Halle, Schleiermacher studied under the universities foremost philosopher, Johann August Eberhard, who gave him a firm foundation in all of the various fields of philosophy and further developed his interest in Kant. [10]

Throughout his adult life, Schleiermacher served in various capacities as a professor of theology and philosophy, as a pastor, and even as a hospital chaplain.  However, he spent the breadth of his career teaching at the University of Berlin, where he was four-time dean of the theological faculty and a member of the Berlin Academy of Sciences.[11]  During his lifetime, Schleiermacher showed incredible depth of interests, writing and lecturing on philosophy, theology, ethics, religion, hermeneutics, and psychology.  At his death in 1834, some 20,000 to 30,000 mourners filled the streets, “proof of the esteem in which Schleiermacher was held by all.”[12] 

Cultural Environment

As a young man Schleiermacher was challenged by the writings of contemporary German Philosophers and poets who questioned traditional Christian beliefs and practices.  These writers were part of the broader movement known today as the Enlightenment.  Enlightenment thinkers, reacting to the long-standing social and religious problems of the past, questioned the authority of traditional religious beliefs, exulting in the power of human reason in an effort to reshape the future . . .

In the eighteenth century, western Europe, emerging from the chaos of the religious wars, began to make rapid progress over its long-prevailing natural and social problems.  The result was a great burst of optimism and confidence in the power of man to master himself and his universe.  The tool of this mastery . . . was seen to be human reason.  Man could overcome the past and create the future if only he could restructure his world by the power of his own mind.[13]        

The Enlightenment had deep and long lasting effects on the Church throughout Europe, as Christianity, and religious faith in general, was, “subjected to scrutiny and reappraisal.”[14] 

Do to the success of scientific research and innovation, the rationalism of Enlightenment thinkers rested increasingly on inductive reasoning; thus, empiricism and “experimental methodology” became the underlying basis for all knowledge.   This was in direct opposition to the Church, which was operating under the pretense of a deductive logic grounded in biblical history, church tradition, and the propositional truth of Scripture.   What resulted was a “dethronement” of God who was replaced by the power and ingenuity of man.   The effects of this shift are still felt today.[15]

In Germany, nothing reflected this new wave of thought more than the writings of Immanuel Kant.   Noted for his groundbreaking work in the area of epistemology, “Kant tried to show that both the laws of nature and the laws of morality are grounded in human reason itself.”[16]  Thus, Kant dispensed with the need to explain external reality using metaphysical constructs; arguing that external reality could only be understood in terms of human reason and understanding. 

The writings of Kant and other humanistic authors had a profound impact on Schleiermacher, who found his fragile childhood faith under immense pressure.  Ultimately, the critiques of enlightenment philosophy drove Schleiermacher to defend religion against the arrogance of the intellectual elite in his famous work, On Religion:  Speeches to its Cultured Despisers. [17]  His response to religious critics in the Speeches and in subsequent writings is the primary focus of this paper.   

Schleiermacher on Religion

Schleiermacher’s first book, On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers, “launched modern theological reflection in a very decisive manner,” shifting religion out of the realm scientific rationalism and into the realm of feelings.[18]  It was his attempt to redefine religion to a generation enthralled by the power of human reason and accomplishment.   The “cultured despisers” referred to in the title were actually close friends of Schleiermacher; all belonging to an intellectual gathering in Berlin known as the Romantic circle.[19]

Schleiermacher’s purpose for writing the Speeches was to, “carve out a space for religion significantly different from what Kant and Fichte had done . . . He wanted to . . . [provide] . . . a new understanding of religion.”[20]  He knew that religion could never provide the type of information about the world that natural science could, but was unwilling to categorize religion as simply being moral or artistic action, as Kant had.  Thus, Schleiermacher relegated religion to a third category:  that of the ‘experiential,’ that of feelings.

       The feeling he described was the inherent, “awareness of the infinite,” that everyone senses as they interact with the universe.[21]  It flows from the idea that “the infinite” or “God” is somehow tied to or exuded through external reality.  However, these feelings are not based upon any previous knowledge, “ideas and principles are all foreign to religion . . . If ideas and principles are to be anything, they must belong to knowledge which is a different department of life from religion.”[22] Thus, when man subconsciously experiences the infinite he is experiencing something apart from himself and nature and expresses these feelings in terms of religion.  Put in his own words, “true religion is sense and taste for the Infinite.”[23]

It’s important to note that Schleiermacher was not advocating a completely subjectivist view, as some have accused.  Total subjectivity places religion in the hands of one’s feelings alone; Schleiermacher believed that there was an “Infinite” that all humans could experience, “We have in Schleiermacher an intensely relational view of humanity.  Emotions are significant not simply because they are ‘felt’, but because they are inward witnesses and responses to realities other than the self.”[24]

It’s also worthwhile to mention that Schleiermacher’s choice of feelings to describe religious experience was rooted in his time spent with the Moravians.  For, he held their commitment to piety with much esteem.[25]  The Moravian’s stressed inner devotion and relationship with Christ, and one can see the faintest hint of this in Schleiermacher’s concept of the inner subconscious experience.

While Speeches was a defining moment in the field of religion, it was never meant to be an academic piece.  Martin Redeker states, “Stylistically the book is neither a sermon nor a philosophical treatise, but rather a typical literary performance in the spirit of the romantic age.”[26]  It’s clear that Schleiermacher’s original audience was his circle of friends, those intellectuals of the times, known as the Romantics.  It was they who scoffed at religion and reveled in the new philosophy.[27]     

For a more mature and fully developed presentation of Schleiermacher’s ideas one must turn to his later work, The Christian Faith.  In this work, “Schleiermacher’s formula for the ‘essence’ of religion-or more precisely, of ‘piety’ or personal religiousness-is that it is a ‘feeling of absolute dependence.”[28]  One can see the evolution of his thought; while previously, he had defined religion as an experience, the feeling of the infinite, in The Christian Faith this definition is narrowed.  Religion is the feeling of absolute dependence.    

Schleiermacher argued that God (or, the Infinite), “ is the source toward which the self-consciousness of absolute dependence is directed.”[29]  As God reveals himself to man through his interaction with the finite, man becomes increasingly aware of his complete and total dependence upon God to sustain his very existence, and this feeling of dependence is ultimately what defines religious experience.[30] 

     On the surface level, Schleiermacher’s argument, that religion is the feeling of absolute dependence, seems abstract and convoluted, but in actuality the logic behind it is easy to follow.  In its most basic form, it simply points out a common feeling sensed by most human beings, that man does not exist on his own, but is dependent upon something bigger than and outside of himself.  Ultimately, Schleiermacher uses this reasoning to conclude that the Infinite does exist, because, “we can hardly be absolutely dependent unless there is something, other than ourselves, on which we are absolutely dependent.”[31]  This “something” he concludes is God.  

By ‘God’, however, he does not mean the God of the Bible.  Schleiermacher argues that God is simply an “expression” which one uses to describe the feeling of absolute dependence.  It’s the personification of one’s interaction with the Infinite, and by no means finds its basis in prior knowledge.[32]  The word God is simply a linguistic convenience used by Schleiermacher to express something which is abstract and almost non descript.[33]

Schleiermacher’s Impact on Modern Religious Scholarship

Keith Clements believes that Schleiermacher, deserves the title, “Pioneer of Modern Theology,” and surely this is no exaggeration.[34]

Schleiermacher’s ascription of religion to the realm of feeling marked the start of modern Protestantism’s [liberalism’s] habitual emphasis on the knowledge of God as inward and experiential.  It is an emphasis seen variously in a succession of figures as diverse as Soren Kierkegaard (1813-55), Albrecht Ritschl (1822-89), Adolf von Harnack (1851-1931), Ernst Troeltsch (1855-1923), Rudolf Bultmann (1884-1976), Rudolf Otto (1869-1937), John Oman (18601939, H.H. Farmer (1892-1981), and John Baillie (1886-1960) . . . Post-Enlightenment theology not only allows but often insists upon the place of ‘subjectivity’ in belief.[35]    

Of course, this list is not exhaustive.  Winfried Corduan traces some of the most significant effects Schleiermacher’s ideas have had on the study of religion in his textbook, Neighboring Faiths. 

Influenced by Schleiermacher’s subjective approach, philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach taught that the idea of God is simply a conglomeration of “idealized” human traits.  He reasoned that common characteristics or traits, such as love or power, that all humans share, could be idealized internally and expressed in terms of “God.”[36]  Thus, like Schleiermacher, he traces the idea of God back to man, but goes further by claiming that the concept of God is simply a part of our imaginations.

Sigmund Freud explored the psychological aspect of religion, believing he had discovered the need in every human being for a father figure or “image.”[37]  Note how similar this is to Schleiermacher’s claim that in every man is an inherent feeling of absolute dependence.  Reflecting the ideas of both Schleiermacher and Feuerbach, Freud believed that God was simply mans “idealized” image of a Father.[38]

Famed religion scholar, Rudolf Otto, also mentioned in Clements list, “traced the basic religious impulse back to an encounter with the consciousness of holiness.”[39]  As with the others, one can easily spot Schleiermacher’s influence in Otto’s thought.  However, instead of speaking in terms of absolute dependence, Otto uses words like “fear’ or “awe” to describe one who is faced with the reality of his own insignificance in the universe.  These feelings, of course, lead to the foundation of religion.[40]

To present a comprehensive list of all who have been influenced by Schleiermacher’s work is far beyond the scope of this paper.  However, one can sense the tremendous impact this man has had on modern thought in these few pages, and can easily understand his part in shaping the new subjective approach to religion.

Conclusion

In today’s world, religious pluralism reigns supreme.  People no longer think of religion in terms of verifiable fact or objective truth, but simply as a grouping of abstract feelings and emotions.  The subjective approach to religion taught in most world religion courses, bolsters this belief when it places man and his subconscious feelings at the center of religious thought.  These presuppositions, while distinctively modern or post-modern in their conclusions can easily be traced to the man Friedrich Schleiermacher.  His concept that religion is the subconscious feeling of absolute dependence ignited a revolution in religious thought, and helped form the basis of liberal Protestantism.  C. W. Christian sums up best when he states, “it is no mere matter of convenience to call Friedrich Schleiermacher the ‘father of modern theology.’ By almost any standard, he must be judged among the most significant figures in the history of Christian thought.”[41]      

 

 

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bongmba, Elias K. “Two Steps Forward, One Step Backward.” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa (March 1997): 81-96.

Christian, C. W. Friedrich Schleiermacher. Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 1979.

Clements, Keith. Friedrich Schleiermacher: Pioneer of Modern Theology. London: Collins Liturgical Publications, 1987.

Corduan, Winfried. Neighboring Faiths. Illinois: IVP Academic, 1998.

Heard, Gerry C. “Schleiermacher’s Concept of Religion.” Perspectives In Religious Studies (Fall 1980): 19-43.

Marina, Jacqueline, ed. The Cambridge Companion to Friedrich Schleiermacher. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Redeker, Martin. Schleiermacher: Life and Thought. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973.

Schleiermacher, Friedrich. On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers. Translated by John Oman. New York: Harper & Brothers, Publishers, 1958.

Sykes, Stephen. Friedrich Schleiermacher. Richmond: John Knox Press, 1971.

 

 

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[1] Winfried Corduan, Neighboring Faiths (Illinois: IVP Academic, 1998), 21-22.

[2] Ibid., 22.

[3] Martin Redeker, Schleiermacher: Life and Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973), 2.

[4] Ibid., 8-9.

[5] Ibid., 9-11.

[6] Ibid., 12.

[7] Stephen Sykes, Friedrich Schleiermacher (Richmond: John Knox Press, 1971), 6.

[8] Jacqueline Marina, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Friedrich Schleiermacher (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 2.

[9] Ibid., 2.

[10] Redeker, 15.

[11] Marina, 2.

[12] Sykes, 15.

[13] C. W. Christian, Friedrich Schleiermacher (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 1979), 20.

[14] Sykes, 3.

[15] Christian, 20-23.

[16] Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 1st ed., s.v. “Immanuel Kant.”

[17] Friedrich Schleiermacher, On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers, trans. John Oman (New York: Harper & Brothers, Publishers, 1958), ix.

[18] Elias K. Bongmba, “Two Steps Forward, One Step Backward,” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa (March 1997): 81.

[19] Ibid., 81.

[20] Ibid., 82.

[21] Ibid., 82.

[22] On Religion, 46.

[23] On Religion, 39.

[24] Keith Clements, Friedrich Schleiermacher: Pioneer of Modern Theology (London: Collins Liturgical Publications, 1987), 37.

[25] Christian, 55.

[26] Redeker, 34-35.

[27] Bongmba, 82.

[28] Marina, 37.

[29] Gerry C. Heard, “Schleiermacher’s Concept of Religion,” Perspectives In Religious Studies (Fall 1980): 22.

[30] Ibid., 23.

[31] Marina, 37.

[32] Ibid., 37.

[33] Ibid., 38.

[34] Clements, 7.

[35] Ibid., 36.

[36] Corduan, 22.

[37] Ibid., 23.

[38] Ibid., 23.

[39] Ibid., 23.

[40] Ibid., 23.

[41] Christian, 11.