Thanks @Puck_Mendelssohn. I meant no disrespect. I believe your answers.
2 Likes
Please be assured that if my response seemed at all heated, it is not heated with any disrespect or anger toward you; it may be the after-burn of many less pleasant discussions I have had the misfortune to have. I regard you as eminently sincere and good-willed.
3 Likes
So what you’re saying is that God has changed his strategy because the previous one failed?
I should perhaps add to the above that the agnostic often gets characterized as DEMANDING that the gods behave in certain ways to satisfy his private curiosity. This sort of demand, to people who are accustomed to regarding the gods as aloof, seems absurd and seems like some sort of obstinacy. But I have never asked gods to do anything at all. I have not asked them to satisfy my curiosity; I have not asked them to prove that they exist; I have not asked them to do anything, ever.
But people DO ask the agnostic, “what evidence would suffice to change your mind?” This is a legitimate question. If agnosticism is, as Huxley says, a method, and one which relies upon testing factual propositions rather than merely accepting them, then there must be some set of things which would suffice, for any given proposition of a type that cannot be rejected a priori, to persuade the agnostic of its truth.
The difficulty seems to arise when there is a well-settled, and pretty much closed, body of evidence and the faithful would like people to accept that body of evidence, as it stands, as sufficient to support the faith. The faithful hope, perhaps, that the agnostic will respond in such terms that the answer may be met by some passage in scripture. When the answer comes back that some demonstration of the existence of a god would be helpful in establishing the existence of a god, this is perhaps a disappointment to those who think they’re going to be able to meet it. But note what’s happening here.
In these situations, there are no frustrated gods. The gods are not gazing down – so far as we know – and fretting over the futility of all of their efforts to make themselves manifest. Indeed, we cannot imagine that there is a frustrated god involved here – a little bit of holy-ghost visitation is always available, should the gods feel frustrated, or a bit of outright smiting, if they’re feeling more than merely frustrated. It is not the gods, but those who believe in the gods, who are frustrated. They are frustrated because they know they cannot point to something which meets ordinary standards of competent evidence on the very point they’d like to establish. And how is this frustration expressed? It is expressed by the often-indignant cry that the agnostic, crass infidel that he is, is demanding that the Lord of Hosts, or the Host of Lords, or the Hoard of Losts, come down and appear in the flesh just to satisfy someone’s personal quibbles about the evidence. The cheek! The arrogance!
But the agnostic makes no such demand. I certainly never have. All the agnostic says is: if this is the state of the evidence, it does not persuade me.
2 Likes
“What’s the big deal about going to some building every Sunday? I mean, isn’t God everywhere? And don’t you think the almighty has better things to worry about than where one little guy spends one measly hour of his week? And what if we pick the wrong religion? Every week we’re just making God madder and madder.”
Homer to Marge, “Homer the Heretic”, The Simpsons, Season 4
2 Likes
I guess. “Showing them directly didn’t work, so I’ll just create a highly dubious textual tradition and see if they find that more convincing.”
1 Like
That is certainly one interpretation of the events described. There are numerous occasions described where God appears to change plans due to something a human has done. That position is known as Open Theism Open theism - Wikipedia
That would seem to imply that God isn’t all that competent, though I doubt any Open Theist would agree. But of course there’s biblical support, as God makes all sorts of errors, regrets what he had done previously, changes his mind, and so on. It explains, for example, why he has so much trouble figuring out that Adam needs a companion, and then has so much trouble figuring out that the companion needs to be a female human. It explains the Flood. So much else.
1 Like
As I re-read this, I am actually rather puzzled by this bit. What do you think these ad hoc objections and epistemological trials are, exactly? I am trying to get to the core question: the existence, or not, of paranormal entities and their identity, or not, with the gods of known faith traditions.
Now, it seems to me that either one may say that these are not questions that can possibly yield anything to empirical scrutiny – in which case, I would say they are of very little interest to me for the “lunar politics” reasons previously given – or one may say that they are empirical questions, in which case the ordinary tools and conventions of reasoning from evidence apply.
I have maintained that historical evidence is incompetent to establish claims of paranormal activity. I do not think this is an idiosyncratic position of my own – it certainly is the case that when all known claims of a particular sort which we can test consistently fail, it is exceedingly hazardous to assert that claims which have passed beyond our ability to carefully test are nonetheless true. It requires discarding the plausibility criterion which is a core principle of historical inquiry, and once that filter is off, all manner of things – not just Christian thoughts – must come in.
But the claim here is not merely that Jesus was raised from the dead. With that claim are carried a whole range of claims. The point, ultimately, is the affirmation of an entire schema of the supernatural, with a particular god at the head of it all and with a whole range of associated beliefs. Is it really the case that you think that all of this is true, and yet that the request for evidence that it actually is true and that the entities behind it actually exist is unreasonable? Is that sort of thing what you think are “ad hoc objections”?
It seems to me that it is not in the least unreasonable that someone who is being asked why a body of evidence is unpersuasive on a point should respond that it is not persuasive because it fails to touch the central objects at issue; that if the existence of a grand paranormal universe that is intertwined with the visible world is offered up, there ought to be SOME aspect of the world which demonstrably supports the claim. It is not unreasonable to answer, when it is suggested that there is some historical ground for accepting the resurrection, that (1) in fact history is quite incompetent to establish an entire violation of ordinary principles of nature, and (2) this is a rather slender factual ground for making a series of claims about principles that pervade all reality itself and that, if true, ought to find some manifestation other than a textual tradition that says that such-and-such once happened.
You cannot assume that others share your conceptions of what this god would have to be like. If you entertain notions that it would be beneath your god’s dignity to be scrutinized, or that it is somehow self-evidently non-“reducible,” you cannot expect anyone to think that such a view is anything but an evasion of the main point at issue. When you put the principal question in issue you implicitly claim that it may indeed be scrutinized; you invite scrutiny, and with scrutiny, you hope for agreement. And, as someone who embraces empiricism in other contexts, you should not think of this as some sort of mere ad hoc objection or epistemological quibble. The removal of a belief from the possibility of scrutiny may be done by the believer; but when he does it, he surrenders forever any right to suggest that someone else is unreasonable for rejecting it. Beliefs which cannot be scrutinized are nothing: wisps of subjective feeling which may be dismissed or called into existence at a whim.
I know no way through the thicket but to look for evidence of a character sufficient to bear upon the questions at issue. I recognize that some people may be willing to overlook the problems, such as the inability of historical evidence to meaningfully bear upon such questions. I cannot; and I could not respect myself if I did.
If I have got something wrong there, I would very much like to know what it is.
2 Likes
Just a comment from the sidelines.
The impression I have, is that @Puck_Mendelssohn is looking at this from the perspective of a lawyer, and asking whether the evidence would stand up to scrutiny in court. So, no, I do not see him as making ad hoc objections. But he is setting strict standards for the evidence that he will accept.
2 Likes
I understand that they see it as God respecting human free will rather than lack of competence, but I’m not an open theist so I may not have that completely right.
Interesting thought. I wonder what @Puck_Mendelssohn would make of a book written from a lawyers perspective, like https://www.amazon.com/Christianity-Trial-Lawyer-Examines-Christian-ebook/dp/B00HUCPWBS But personally, I’m quite happy with his assertion that he hasn’t seen enough evidence to convince him, and am happy to leave it at that.
Changing peoples minds is very difficult, and I’ve never felt the need to browbeat other people into accepting my faith. Speaking of which, I’ve joined a prayer group which includes the head of a very significant parachurch ministry. Well, significant for New Zealand 
He doesn’t seem to be somebody who pushes his beliefs on others either, but I get the impression that he is probably OEC. I mentioned that I had read Joshua’s book and he seemed quite interested so I gave him a quick summary of it. His response was to ask if the people outside the garden would have knowledge of right and wrong. I explained that in Joshua’s hypothesis they would, which was why Cain feared retribution. He responded that in that case there was no need for a tree of the knowledge of good and evil, “that doesn’t sound very scriptural to me.” was his final comment, and then changed the subject to something else. I confess I felt quite deflated. I had hoped that if he was interested enough he might invite me to speak at one of his conferences about it, but I was left with the impression that door was firmly closed. Like Puck, I was expecting problems if he asked about Noah’s flood, but I wasn’t expecting to be shut down at the trees.
3 Likes
Well, there are other views that what I laid out 
perhaps give him a copy to tell you what is wrong with it
I may try that if I get another opportunity. Its early days yet. To be honest, its just nice to find a group that lets an evolutionist like me in. I’ve been refused membership of one church because they had an anti-evolution clause on their membership form, and another church performed an exorcism on me to drive out “the spirit of intellectualism”.
5 Likes
As do I, for what that is worth. But hundreds of apologetics attempts that amount to "you have to believe first" have a cumulative effect.
1 Like
Yet on other occasions, the same people will readily claim that the Last of Hordes* is listening, and that if you approach with an open mind and heart, you will feel His presence and maybe even hear Hhis words.
They won’t believe you if you didn’t.
*Couldn’t resist
1 Like
Yes, you have to wonder who supports places like Lourdes. Is it the unbelievers?
Probably. But I don’t think that would hold up if you really looked at it.
1 Like
If I am, I am not doing that intentionally. I am aware that legal scrutiny of facts is not the same as reasoned evaluation of them. And, indeed, if it were a matter for a court, there’s very little that could come in anyhow. One would squeeze a few things past hearsay exceptions for ancient documents, but that’s about it.
No, for me it is all about verifying whether any of the faith traditions are true. Bear in mind that it is not my first time around the block. I am 57 years old. I was a teenager when I first read the Bible all the way through. I have attended church services of quite a range of sorts. I have earnest, and truly non-confrontational, conversations about faith with people who have faith, all the time. But the more faithful they are, the less sure they seem to be that their faith is something that must or should convince any reasonable inquirer. So I try to understand the “why” in a Varieties of Religious Experience sort of sense, rather than probing them with questions about why they think I ought to believe. I’m not sure any of them do think I ought to believe.
And so it was a good many years ago that I became acquainted with the main lines of evidence here. If I had had something to say at the point when I realized that I had pretty much seen it, it would have been along the lines of “Really? That’s IT?” It’s a bit like the day that, upon leaving the Mormon Pavilion at the 1974 Spokane World’s Fair, I remarked to my dad that if the Mormons really have these tablets, then presumably we can get archaeologists to help validate these and confirm the translation work – and I was met by a soft and gentle laugh from a man who did know the answer to that particular question. It has a way of working out like that with religions.
I’m not sure that my standards are strict. I think that what has happened is that standards in this particular area are quite lax.
I am happy to take varying accounts of the lives of the Roman emperors, for example, and weigh them in the balance. History does not tend to lend itself to solid answers, however, and to the eternally “provisional” nature of scientific findings history adds a kind of provisionality which comes from the incompleteness of the data. This is a problem when we are dealing with ordinary occurrences that present no universe-twisting problems of the nature of the gods. But what we do with historical accounts is weigh them against one another, looking for agreement, looking for potential biases and motives, looking to make tales make a kind of narrative sense that resembles our model of how events today take place. We do not take stories that attribute divine powers to Julius Caesar and give those stories the same weight that we give other less supernaturally-loaded accounts.
If multiple witnesses said that Napoleon had a particular skill for throwing stones, and that he could hit a fence post at fifty yards nine times out of ten, we would probably believe it. We might wonder about it, and we might ask whether there was really only one witness whose account was multiply repeated, but it’s entirely possible. I have seen baseball players who can do the like. But if the claim is that Napoleon could throw a half-pound cobble ten miles with a flick of the wrist, it no longer matters how many witnesses there are. No quantity of witnesses of the highest possible credibility, sworn in writing to testify truthfully, would persuade us, and we would immediately realize that we were dealing in the realm of myth-making.
Perhaps Napoleon was a god, though. Perhaps he COULD throw a stone ten miles, and would have leapt tall buildings with a single bound if he’d felt like it. If these claims existed in history, all that historians could say would be that these things appear to be impossible and that, on that basis, one has to strongly doubt them. And not having been raised to think of Napoleon as a god, they likely would go – at least, in the nonprofessional setting – farther. They would say that to believe such things represented such a departure from ordinary standards of judgment as to render the believer ridiculous, and place his capacity for reasoned judgment in question.
THAT is all I bring to it. Not strict standards, but standards appropriate to the kind and character of evidence. If textual evidence is produced to show that Jesus enjoyed a bit of fish and bread, I am happy to weigh that, like any evidence from history, alongside whatever other accounts of his dietary preferences may exist. If textual evidence is produced that he can throw a rock ten miles, score more ice-hockey goals than Wayne Gretsky in a land devoid of ice, or rise from the dead, I place it in the place where such claims from historical sources belong. And I would note that the credibility of historical accounts is somewhat diminished when copying bias has led to one side of tradition being preserved and others tending to disappear. To have a copy of Celsus, instead of just a copy of Contra Celsus, would be interesting, to say the least.
I have not read the book you cite, so can tell you nothing about that specifically. I have, however, seen attempts by lawyers to use maxims of evidentiary weighing, or court rules regarding the admissibility of evidence, to bear upon the arguments. I find those sorts of things a bit silly because legal processes are designed for very particular sorts of inquiry; they are not made to answer fundamental questions even of historical truth, much less the nature of reality.
When I am in a pugnacious agnostic mood, I do tend to pronounce that I haven’t seen enough evidence, nor has anyone else. But the rest of the time, I do believe in the freedom of judgment which says that it is anyone’s right to be convinced by things I find unconvincing, even if I consider the fact that someone is convinced a bit saddening.
It is an interesting point, though, isn’t it? While I know that many people do not like to resort to allegory, which always turns out to have an appetite larger than whatever one wants to feed it on a particular occasion, this is why allegory is useful. If you don’t admit allegory, he at least has a point; though I suppose one can ad-hoc in the view that Adam and Eve were born morally handicapped, and had their status elevated to that of those outside the garden only by evading God’s rules.
Ah, yes. That’s the sort I have usually met. They may not be the majority of Christians, but they sure as hell are the loudest.
They really do. The difficulty I have always had with that is that it is a one-way valve. If I do that, what do I say to Muhammad when I am asked why I lived my life as an infidel, in defiance of the Koran? I guess I’ll point to some of his “people of the book” passages and hope for the best. But what do I do if Raven confronts me in the afterlife? I know people who believe quite deeply in Pacific Northwest native tales, you know – these people didn’t just “get” religion when white people showed up.
A couple of years ago, an old friend who was never particularly religious, and who had retired from Seattle to one of the meth-and-chaw counties of Washington State to get away from the various types of people of whom he is frightened, got drunk and drove his truck into a drainage ditch. As he tells the tale, the Ford of Hosts showed up at this point and converted him to the One True Religion. So, evidently it can happen in the presence of enough alcohol and self-shaming.
When he explained this to me, my reaction – quite animated in comparison to my normal nature – was that I was disappointed at how damned BORING this was. Of all the gods, the one that happens to be dominant in our culture is the one that shows up? If Vishnu had visited him, or he had had a visitation of the Buddha in the form of a white hart, or some such thing, this would at least have made a tale worth telling. But he had to get the generic god of his childhood. It’s like getting one of those paid “celebrity” phone calls as a birthday gift and finding Ben Stein on the other end of the line.
Obviously he had not been visited by the divine. But couldn’t he have made it interesting? Now he is a member of some church, the details of which I fear to learn; the meth-and-chaw counties do have a lot of speaking in tongues, as I learned when living in terrified subjection in one of them.
Now, on the subject of divine visitations: these are easy to get. I have Mormon missionaries visit frequently – how they find my house which is hidden in a clutch of woods, I do not know. Druidic pranksters? The last pair of 'em asked me if I had read the Book of Mormon. I said I had, and that the theology of it read remarkably as though it had been written by a person conversant in issues of nineteenth-century Protestantism. They asked me to pray at night and ask God to tell me whether it was true. I howled, “why the hell would ANYONE ever do THAT? Ask the very master of all existence whether he’s responsible for THAT book? He’s going to slap me upside the head and tell me, ‘don’t be stupid!’”
They had not, evidently, been taught how to react to that particular response, which apparently is unusual. Indeed, it seems that the kind of visitation which they ask you to solicit is quite commonly experienced by those who have asked for it, and that the gods or demons which operate this particular answering service have an extremely Mormon-leaning inclination. This script works. But all it does for me is underscore that nobody should ever trust a vision.
4 Likes
Ha! Thankfully, there are still Christian communities where intellectualism is cherished. Reminds me of a famous Galileo quote:
2 Likes