A recent interview in the Stone by Gary Gutting of Alvin Plantinga gave rise to expected criticisms, for instance by Massimo Pigliucci. The wide media exposure of Plantinga puts him forward as somehow representative of what Christian philosophers believe, and if his reasoning is not sound then, as Pigliucci puts it “theology is in big trouble”.

For Plantinga, as is well known and again iterated in this interview, the properly functioning sensus divinitatis is sufficient for belief in God, and one need not have any explicit arguments at all for God’s existence. Nevertheless, Plantinga does say that the “whole bunch taken together” of such arguments are “as strong as philosophical arguments ordinarily get”. In a brief digression to the problem of evil, Plantinga does not even fully acknowledge it as a problem (calling it the “so-called problem of evil”), although he acknowledges there is some strength to it. The problem is then quickly solved with a Fall theodicy, where God mends the abuse of freedom of his creatures through the horrible and humiliating death of his Son, which Plantinga thinks is a “magnificent possible world”.

Overall, I found the tone of this interview somewhat placid. Eleonore Stump has termed this sort of approach toward evil "the Hobbit attitude to evil" (note and update: to clarify, she does not refer to Plantinga's work in the essay, the interpretation is mine). She writes: “Some people glance into the mirror of evil and quickly look away.  They take note, shake their heads sadly, and go about their business. … Tolkien's hobbits are people like this.  There is health and strength in their ability to forget the evil they have seen.  Their good cheer makes them robust.” — In fairness, Plantinga did write defenses to account for the problem of evil, but in my view, he does not take it seriously enough. Eleonore Stump does not share Plantinga’s reasons for being a religious believer, nor do other philosophers of religion who have spoken out in Morris' and Kelly Clark’s collections of spiritual autobiographies of philosophers who believe. So why do Christian philosophers of religion believe that something like Christian theism is true? 

For several authors in Clark's edited collection* (including Plantinga), the reasons for belief can be surmised as something like this “I’ve been brought up religiously. I've always liked religion. I like going to church, and the bible inspires me. I’ve had mentors who were Christian philosophers that were very influential in my formative years and that made me think the position is philosophically defensible. And when I walk in nature I do sometimes have the sense that something like the God I was brought up to believe in exists. To make this all philosophically work, I do find I contort myself with all sorts of weird analogies and intuitions that nobody finds remotely plausible, unless they are more committed to theism than to atheism. There are some arguments I think are strong, like the cosmological argument, but they seem to wither in the face of the formidable problem of evil. Now, I can't respond to this problem without sounding very insensitive to those who suffer, but I'll do it anyway, by treating suffering mainly as a philosophical puzzle." 

In sum, I think there are all sorts of extra-philosophical reasons why Christian philosophers find themselves attracted to theism (and specifically some Christian version of it). Now, as philosophers of religion have often triumphantly noted, non-realist positions are no longer fashionable, so a kind of Wittgensteinian aspect-seeing position is not attractive, therefore many philosophers find themselves defending a robust realist position, through natural theological arguments, theodicies, and Reformed epistemology, for example. But I don’t think that everyone’s religious temperament is suited to this form of robust realism. The strikingness of narratives, the beauty of religious music, and the like may – also to a philosopher – provide compelling reasons for being a theist; not all these reasons need be philosophical.

*I have not yet read Morris’ book except Stump’s essay, which she sent me.

 

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47 responses to “Why do Christian philosophers of religion believe there is a God?”

  1. Andrew Moon Avatar

    Hi Helen,
    Nice post!
    “To make this all philosophically work, I do find I contort myself with all sorts of weird analogies and intuitions that nobody finds remotely plausible, unless they are more committed to theism than to atheism. ”
    I was wondering which analogies/intuitions you were thinking of?

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  2. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    I could give several examples of analogies, for example, the idea that full-blown Christianity would be as basic as the belief that other people have minds. But to give an example of something counterintuitive that some theodicists nevertheless “intuit”, I’ve encountered recently in reading books on animal suffering (e.g., Southgate’s, Murray’s, and a MS in production by a theologian), take the neo-Cartesian theodicy. Animals suffer a lot through disease, parasites, predation, sibling competition, and have done so before humans have existed. So if one is not a young earth creationist, something like a Fall theodicy cannot be invoked to explain why animals suffer in a Darwinian universe, as a direct result it seems, from God’s design of the world. So some authors have proposed the extremely implausible idea that animals don’t really suffer, because they can’t mentally travel in time, or because they don’t have full blown consciousness or metacognition. As Murray himself acknowledges, it is an idea that seems very remote from our everyday intuitions and interactions, and it would be morally risky to act on it (e.g., why give animals sedation when they are to undergo an operation? Indeed, why operate them at all if they can go on without it? All that whimpering is not really suffering, because they can’t metacognize it).

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  3. Mark Avatar
    Mark

    There is a lot about this post that I find puzzling. Here are a couple.
    First, I don’t understand why you would suppose that the genre of spiritual autobiography is a genre in which you would expect to find anything like an account of reasons for belief. In some cases, the finding of such reasons is an important feature of one’s spiritual life; in other cases, it won’t. This is true even if the believers in question are professional philosophers. So the idea that spiritual autobiographies of philosophers often include a lot of “I was brought up religiously,” etc. shows anything at all about what they take to be reasons for theistic belief is just very strange.
    Second, there are lots of ways of encountering the problem of evil. Sometimes a theist encounters the problem of evil thrust at her or him as a puzzle, or something that is supposed to render theistic belief irrational, or show that theism is false. In that case it seems perfectly fine to respond to the argument in the terms given. Sometimes a theist encounters it as something that calls not God’s existence into question, but renders unintelligible how one can be wholeheartedly committed to, or have an allegiance to, that being. There are other guises of the problem as well. These seem pretty obviously to call for different treatment. But it is not at all clear why every philosopher of religion has to deal with all formulations of the problem.

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  4. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    Fantastic post.
    I honestly don’t get all of this focusing on belief.
    In general, I think philosophical apologetics by their very nature distort religion in a fundamentalist direction. For the fundamentalist, faith is not an undeserved gift but instead something to be proud of. For the fundamentalist, faith is not the kind of faithfulness Jesus speaks of when explaining the lamp parable and elsewhere (involving no metaphysics or theology, but rather practical obligations towards people in need), but instead checking off the right doctrinal boxes.
    Philosophers today are by and large concerned with honing in on the right set of beliefs. This is problematic in all sorts of ways (Eric has a set of beautiful posts on this issue), but I think never so problematic as when put into the hand of Christian philosophers, most of for whom a certain model of belief assumes an importance not justified by Roman Catholocism, Orthodoxy, or the Reformed tradition. For example, in the second Heidelberg Confession Bullinger makes it very clear “faith” in the relevant sense is consistent with large swaths of disbelief. In the context of the church being necessary for salvation, he also writes of the “invisible church” that may be such that people don’t realize that it is the church. For all we know a protest march or labor union is part of the invisible church. Getting involved with those is certainly much closer to anything Jesus said than is trying to convince people to agree with you on doctrinal matters, even very central ones.
    I’m not trying to censor theologically inflected metaphysics and epistemology, but I do think the practice is almost intrinsically misleading about the nature of genuine religious life.*
    [*By saying this I’m not trying to defend an anti-realist or Wittgensteinian construal of such life either.]

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  5. Andrew Moon Avatar

    Got it, thanks Helen!

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  6. Moti Mizrahi Avatar

    Speaking of the “guises of the problem of evil,” John Danaher has an interesting series of posts on different kinds of evil. The series index can be found here: http://philosophicaldisquisitions.blogspot.ie/2013/08/disambiguating-evil-series-index.html

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  7. Moti Mizrahi Avatar

    Speaking of “the guises of the problem of evil,” John Danaher has an interesting series of posts on different kinds of evil. The series index can be found here: http://philosophicaldisquisitions.blogspot.ie/2013/08/disambiguating-evil-series-index.html

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  8. Mark Avatar
    Mark

    Jon, So of course to think of faith as just belief that God exists is totally inadequate. But I don’t know how one goes from there to the notion that belief is not a big deal. Central to Christianity is getting right with God, being properly related to God, to love and serve God in this life and be with God in the next. How does one make sense of the practices and hopes of Christians that take God as their intentional object if one does not believe that there is such a being (or at least have some sort of stance in the belief ballpark)? And if you can’t, then why isn’t focus on belief entirely to the point, even if it is not nearly the whole point?

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  9. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    Mark – thanks for your thoughts. The genre of the spiritual autobiography is a difficult one to interpret, to be sure, and causes and reasons are usually kept separate (I don’t know in how far you would uphold a strictly Sellarsian distinction between space of reasons and space of causes). But I think that such a distinction cannot be strictly maintained, and so, that in principle, having a religious background and feeling comfortable in it are de facto motivating reasons for being a religious believer. I can only speculate that such nonepistemic reasons are more important than people acknowledge. I do not say this because I don’t want to take philosophers at face value, but there is an emphasis on the cerebral. Positivism may be defeated, but its specter is still looming closely. Think about a book like Herman Philipse – if philosophers do not acknowledge that nonepistemic reasons can be and, indeed often are, good reasons, they are playing the non-theists’ game.
    I am not claiming that philosophers of religion have to shoulder the burden of the problem of evil. They do get it thrust at them, as you point out, as a puzzle. The problem is that many (although not all, but certainly Plantinga), by treating it as a puzzle, seem to underestimate its devastating force. Think of CS Lewis’ problem of pain vs CS Lewis A grief observed. I think the latter much more intellectually honest. I don’t even think that aesthetic theodicies as Plantinga seems to offer in the interview are necessarily bad or false, but I do think that by minimizing the problem or by treating it purely as an intellectual puzzle, philosophers of religion run moral risk. Think about Plantinga’s examples where he formulates the free will defense. If I remember correctly, this is about someone taking or not taking a bribe. Bribery is surely bad, but one could replace this with a gruesome example (take your chilling Brothers Karamazov pick) and see if it still works

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  10. Joshua Reagan Avatar
    Joshua Reagan

    In response to Jon Cogburn:
    As an Orthodox Christian, I would like to note that “Orthodox” means “correct belief”. So, belief seems pretty central to Orthodox Christianity. A cursory glance at the writings of the Church Fathers is sufficient to show they thought belief a critical part of faith too.

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  11. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    Jon & Mark: I think there is more unexplored philosophical terrain between realist philosophy as philosophers of religion now practice it and anti-realist positions such as Wittgenstein’s view, or religious fictionalism etc. I am inclined Howard Wettstein is right in saying that practice is the most central element. So while a tentative belief might be necessary, it is not nearly as important and central as contemporary PoR makes it to be. I think that by ignoring the vital element non-epistemic elements like upbringing, feeling “at home” in a religious community etc can bring, theistic philosophers are playing too much the game of the atheist, for whom (except those rare fictionalists) religion is indeed a purely cerebral matter.

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  12. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    Joshua,
    The beliefs a church uses to constitute itself (Orthodoxy or, say, the Catholic Magisterium) are not identical to the those things that members of that church might need to believe to be members. And neither are identical to what someone must believe to be a Christian. I can’t think of any mainstream Christian denomination where any two of these three coincide. Maybe Southern Baptists have been moving in this direction, with inerracy requirements and whatnot. But they are silly on exactly this issue.
    In any case, I was only talking about the third issue.
    Moreover, one must read old texts in a non-cursory manner. I’m not trying to be snarky by saying this. Presbyterians read the Bible and the Confessions: (1) according to the rule of love (if your reading supports non-loving norms, you are reading it wrong), (2) as witnessing to Jesus, and (3) with academic sensitivity to the historical and social circumstances under which it was written and redacted.
    These beliefs about interpretation are part of how the Presbyterian church constitutes itself. However, nobody is going to be kicked out if they don’t share them, and we don’t say that Baptists fail to be Christians because they don’t share these beliefs.
    Jon

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  13. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    Mark,
    An atheist who is helping the prisoners, the sick, and the hungry is far more right with God than I am! That’s what I believe.
    Now it’s true that I so believe that. But let’s say that you disagree with that belief. Neither of us are closer to God because of how we come down on this theological disagreement. Moreover, I think this was actually the point of a lot of what Jesus did and said (cf. Buddha’s “arrow sermon” for an analogue).
    But if you don’t share that belief, it’s O.K. with me.
    Jon

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  14. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    I can see how having coherent beliefs, beliefs in line with Orthodoxy, or beliefs that are in line with one’s practices are important. But I am still wondering at how many Christians (ordinary ones, that one can meet in church) are really on board with everything they profess, say, in the Nicene Creed. While systematic studies are not available, there is some fascinating work that recently appeared in Exploring Ordinary Theology, edited by Astley & Francis. They found some things that were really startling: many ordinary churchgoers have no idea about the Final Judgment and just think everyone goes immediately to heaven (so no problem for an intermediate state for them). They think Jesus was an inspiring teacher, but not necessarily the Son of God. This research was done in rural churches in England. Perhaps American Christians are more Orthodox.
    One can say that for philosophers things are different, and one must put oneself to higher standards than the ordinary believer (although I do like the idea put forward by Kelly Clark that his grandma could be offered as an example of the pious believer, and that his grandma was perfectly justified in her beliefs). Surely one should aim for high standards when engaging in arguments, for instance, about divine attributes, free will in heaven etc. But I still think it’s important that non-epistemic, non-doxastic reasons play a more prominent role in our philosophy as well, precisely because they seem to play such a role (as gauged from the spiritual biographies). If we do not acknowledge that role, philosophical discourse is all the poorer for it.

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  15. Angra Mainyu Avatar

    Hi, Helen,
    Excellent example; that’s really weird, and some of the arguments given in support of it (just to add my two cents) are just as much.
    For example, <A HREF=”W.”>http://www.reasonablefaith.org/natures-flaws-and-cruelties”>W. L. Craig cites Murray and insists on the relevancy of that metacognition – that is, on the relevancy of being able to be aware that one is in pain, which he says requires self-awareness.
    On Craig’s view, self-awareness is centered in the pre-frontal cortex of the brain, which according to Craig only exists in “humanoid primates”. Murray also <A HREF=”insists”>http://www.reasonablefaith.org/animal-pain-re-visited”>insists (as one of his proposals) on basing a distinction on the issue of metacognition, and in turn on the pre-frontal cortex, even if Murray seems to acknowledge that some other non-human animals also have a pre-frontal cortex.
    But in addition to the extreme implausibility that you point out (why would metacognition would be so important in this context?), and the definition of pre-frontal cortex, there is no good reason to think that other animals that pass the mirror test, like bottlenose dolphins, orcas, Asian elephants, or European magpies, are not self-aware, as there is no good reason to think that only a specific structure that developed in primates is the only way to achieve self-awareness, ignoring behavior.
    Curiously, even that would not resolve the problem, since for millions of years, there’s been primates that would meet the conditions of having a PFC under any definitions, such as Homo Habilis, several species of australopithecines, and chimpanzees, bonobos and/or their ancestors.
    Another example of an extremely implausible idea is another one of Murray’s proposals:
    As an alternative to the metacognition suggestion, he suggests that maybe non-human animals do not find pain unpleasant even if they feel it, and gives the example of lobotomy patients who felt pain but said that the pain did not bother them.
    But it’s a really bizarre suggestion that non-human animals that obviously react to pain like people who did not undergo any lobotomy and who find pain obviously unpleasant, might feel pain but not find it unpleasant.
    One might wonder, if the pain didn’t bother them at all, why would they complain so much?
    Furthermore, given evolution, this second proposal would have the further implausibility that according to it there were in the past animals that complained about pain very much and reacted obviously with aversion to it, but somehow did not find it unpleasant (implausible enough), and then suddenly, one of their descendants began finding pain very unpleasant, but continued to react to it as before – obviously, with a strong aversion to it -, so this radical change in their experiences had no correlation in behavior.
    On that note, Murray even goes on to say cite a recent article in “Trends in Cognitives Science” saying that the human PFC is “absolutely, obviously, and tremendously” different from other PFC (even from other primates), suggesting that those differences are what makes it possible to feel negatively about pain, and so on this hypothesis, it seems even chimpanzees would not feel bad about pain, no matter how much they complain when they feel it, and generally regardless of their reactions.
    This view almost looks as a case of a chimpanzee P-zombie body behaving like she’s in pain and doesn’t like pain at all, and inside that body perhaps a chimpanzee mind who is in pain but does not mind since she does not find pain unpleasant, but for some reason is not in control of her body (else, she would not react as if she did mind, but like those lobotomy patients Murray talks about). How implausible is that?
    But there is even more implausibility in this view, when one factors in some other Christian beliefs, because brains evolved gradually, so clearly the PFC of the first primate who (according to Christianity) was a person was not “absolutely, obviously, and tremendously” different from the brain of her mother, who was not a person, but a non-human animal with pretty much the same kind of brain. But it seems that if the mother complained about pain, and so did the daughter, the daughter only found it unpleasant, whereas the mother just acted like it, even if she did not mind…

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  16. RM Avatar
    RM

    Plantinga is certainly not at his best in the interview linked above. Nevertheless, I don’t think Plantinga would claim that the set of beliefs that constitute full-blown Christianity are all basic. Rather, I think he’d want to say that some basic beliefs have religious content and that they provide a foundation for Christianity.
    To read him charitably I think it’s important to keep in mind that his religious epistemology is not just Calvinism dressed up in philosophical jargon. He is influenced at least as much by the common sense tradition of Reid, Moore, and Chisholm. One of the central claims of that tradition is that there are many propositions that one can know (or rationally believe) even though one cannot prove them or support them by discursive argument. If you’re committed to this kind of view, it’s not a stretch to think it might extend to some beliefs with religious content.
    I guess there might be some people who think think common sense epistemology is b.s. or subject to decisive refutation. In their case, reading Plantinga would probably be an exercise in futility. Even though I don’t share his religious beliefs, I find reading Plantinga profitable because I share his general methodological orientation.

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  17. Mark Avatar
    Mark

    I don’t think anything I said above is about separating sheep from goats. My point was just that there is a characteristic range of practices among those who self-identify as theists and that lots of those seem to presuppose belief that there is such a being as God. And surely lots of theists find further reason or motivation to love their neighbors because they can view that activity as relating them to God somehow:doing as God commands, or responding to the image of God, or whatever.

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  18. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    Sorry. I think we were talking past one another. I agree with what you write here.

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  19. Tim Avatar
    Tim

    On the flip side, I suspect that most academic philosophers are naturalistic atheists because that’s the overwhelmingly dominant view of the Western academic culture into which they have been socially conditioned. The mundane pressures of group conformity are quite powerful (see the Asch conformity experiments).
    Also, I think Plantinga is correct to speak of the “so-called problem of evil” insofar as it functions as evidence against God’s existence. In order to make that argument work, its proponents would have to show that there cannot possibly be any good reason for God’s permitting the world’s suffering, but how could anyone argue convincingly for that? It seems to me, and I suspect the same is true for Plantinga, that this isn’t the sort of thing that philosophical analysis can settle. So, it’s a philosophical dead end with regard to the question of God’s existence.

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  20. Paul Avatar
    Paul

    Jon,
    You wrote, “For example, in the second Heidelberg Confession Bullinger makes it very clear “faith” in the relevant sense is consistent with large swaths of disbelief. In the context of the church being necessary for salvation, he also writes of the “invisible church” that may be such that people don’t realize that it is the church. For all we know a protest march or labor union is part of the invisible church. Getting involved with those is certainly much closer to anything Jesus said than is trying to convince people to agree with you on doctrinal matters, even very central ones.”
    The distinction between visible and invisible church has been around for a while. When theologians speak about the ‘visible church’ they historically have meant the set of those people on the rolls of local churches. Today, church membership isn’t as important as it used to be. To account for this we may say the ‘visible church’ are all those who are members of a local church and those who profess to be a Christian (and some formulations include, “and their children”).
    The invisible church, on the other hand, is understood to be those who have actually been regenerated or, all “true believers.” We can’t know for certain who truly believes, i.e., who truly has faith. Hence, this church is “invisible.” It includes those faithful saints who have died, e.g., Abraham, Moses, etc.
    Given the way these terms have been used, and that is how the HC uses them, “protest marches” and “labor unions” aren’t “part of the invisible church,” except in an improbable and trivial way, i.e., each happens to be a true believer, and this has nothing to do with labor unions and protest marches.
    This wasn’t meant to be philosophically substantive but, rather, merely corrective.

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  21. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    Tim: I agree that conformism does play a role, and it does so in philosophy too, even if philosophers think they are above it. It does take courage to be countercultural, especially as being religious is still (and perhaps especially now with all the controversies) regarded as being intellectually subpar.
    That being said, I think there is a strong commonsense pull to regard the problem of evil as a problem. We see evil all around us, in all its horrible form and so prima facie, this poses a challenge to theism, classically construed. See the link to this paper by Jerome Gellman that states the problem more clearly than I can: http://www.pdcnet.org/collection/show?id=faithphil_1992_0009_0002_0210_0216&file_type=pdf – solutions like skeptical theism run deeply against common sense, and so, I maintain that evil remains prima facie evidence against God’s existence.

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  22. Tim Avatar
    Tim

    I agree that the problem of evil has, as you put it, “strong commonsense pull.” But I think the version of it that has “strong commonsense pull” goes something like this: If the transcendent, omnimax God of classical theism exists then the only world such a being could create would be a good one. But our world obviously contains evil and, therefore, isn’t good. Hence, God didn’t create our world. Hence, God doesn’t exist.
    Needless to say, the above version is deeply problematic, but perhaps in such a way that isn’t obvious to non-specialists. Most likely, Gellman’s students still aren’t sure what’s wrong with it even after they’ve taken his course (perhaps because Gellman doesn’t address it directly and focuses more on versions that are discussed in the academic literature).
    Interestingly, you say that, “solutions like skeptical theism run deeply against common sense.” Really? It seems to me, commonsensically speaking, that if the aforementioned transcendent, omnimax God has reasons for permitting the world’s suffering I shouldn’t necessarily be expected to know them. If anything, it seems more in line with commonsense to say that I shouldn’t expect to have much insight into such a being’s reasons for permitting some things and not others. After all, there’s quite a gulf between little ol’ me and the creator of this vast cosmos we inhabit, etc.

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  23. Nick Smyth Avatar
    Nick Smyth

    From Murray’s website:

    “Needless to say, this argument is not popular. Anyone who has watched nature films, or been to a farm or zoo, or has a pet, thinks it is clear and obvious that animals feel pain and experience suffering. What sensible person would deny this? Well, maybe none! But philosophers are always willing to explore counter-intuitive positions to see whether or not they have any merit. And in this chapter I do just that.”

    And, the relevant passage from On Certainty:

    “I am sitting with a philosopher in the garden; he says again and again ‘I know that that’s a tree’, pointing to a tree that is near us. Someone else arrives and hears this, and I tell him: ‘This fellow isn’t insane. We are only doing philosophy.”

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  24. G Avatar
    G

    Tim,
    The version of the argument from evil that you refer to is the deductive one, which I think most philosophers agree is not successful. The much more powerful argument is the inductive argument as formulated,e.g, by Rowe. Sure there could be a reason for God to allow a fawn to die a slow painful death.. but this hardly helps show that such an a reason is likely.

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  25. Tim Avatar
    Tim

    Also, I don’t think Gellman’s theory that when people experience evil they have the equivalent of an anti-religious experience that provides prima facie evidence against God’s existence can possibly be correct. I mean, if it were then atheism should have a mirror opposite “problem of religious experience” that functions in exactly the same way as the “problem of evil” in the academic literature, but obviously such a state of affairs does not obtain.

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  26. bzfgt Avatar
    bzfgt

    But God being all-powerful would obviate any reason he could possibly have to allow suffering. Any objective he’d want to achieve by allowing suffering he could achieve without suffering, if he’s all-powerful. This seems undeniable to me.

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  27. Angra Mainyu Avatar

    So he claims. But there is a difference between exploring whether some position has any merit and failing to realize (even after reflection)that it does not have any.
    Murray’s two options (see my comment above) are not an adequate reply to the argument from suffering – and the argument from suffering is only one example when one is consider philosophers who are not only theists, but Christian theists. In the case of Christianity, there are even more direct arguments, some based on moral issues, some not.

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  28. Tim Avatar
    Tim

    None of the versions work. Lowe’s example with the fawn can be thought of as a natural consequence of the kind of world we live in, with its natural processes of lightning striking dead trees and such. As any park ranger will tell you, forest fires serve a purpose, but inevitably animals get caught up in them and die, etc. The question then becomes whether God might have good reasons for creating the kind of world we live in, with its natural processes, but that doesn’t seem implausible. So, we hit a dead end.
    With a little imagination, the theist can probably do this sort of thing with almost any example you dream up. So, I don’t think there’s an argument with any real force to be found here, which are hard to come by anyway.

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  29. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    I’m sorry Paul but I don’t think your conclusion follows, especially given the full context of Bullinger’s confession, which is canonical for Presbyterians. But her I am debating doctrine with you. No thanks. Let’s both just do something kind tomorrow and leave it at that.

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  30. G Avatar
    G

    Tim,
    Given that we are talking about God understood more or less traditionally, appeal to the kind of world we live is hardly a viable response. It’s God after all who is responsible for such a world. But to be clear my point is not that evil shows there is no God, and certainly if one somehow knows that God exists all the anti-theistic arguments turn to dust (the G.E. Moore Shift), but I at least am not in that situation. Evil is one of the considerations that must be taken seriously if we are are serious about discovering the truth.

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  31. V. Alan White Avatar
    V. Alan White

    A Hick-style soul-building argument is perhaps the best overall response to the problem of evil, yet it crucially depends on the assumption that this is an actual world that (i) is nomically structured by natural law for the exercise of non-nomically founded free will (thus making allowance for natural evil in law-governed circumstances of a moral nature, like a tornado, yet also allowing moral evil from free choice) and (ii) is morally optimally so structured. These conjunctively are a restricted best of all possible worlds theodicy assumption relative to soul-making (given multi-world chances of redemption ala Ground Hog Day), and I see no way to justify that, especially (ii) as indexed to this world. (ii) is some sort of moral modal claim, and I can’t even start to evaluate that in a rational way.
    If indeed this is the best POR has to offer, then it is insufficient to quash skepticism about the problem of evil as a sufficient concern about a positive belief in the omnimax God.
    I was a believer and practitioner once. I read SK’s Fear and Trembling and was immediately converted to non-belief. Faith is a leap from reason and completely unwarranted.

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  32. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    At least for me faithfulness is primarily about (1) hope that all of the suffering (including the suffering one has oneself experienced and doled out) in the world will somehow be made right and (2) using the church to collectively work to make this better.* Given this, just about the worst thing you could do as a Christian would be to use exegesis/apologetics/theology to anesthetize yourself to the suffering of others (and it should be obvious that animals count here too).
    I actually left the church for over two decades in part because of just this issue. When I was a kid my friend’s father got brain cancer and he became so violent that he had to be institutionalized prior to dying. I overheard a well-meaning person in the church talking to my friend’s mom about this, and the well-meaning person kept asking her if she’d “given it up to the Lord,” with the implication being that she must somehow be at fault! The thought was clearly that if she was right with God her husband would not have beaten her black and blue and the laying on of hands when he first got his diagnosis would have worked.
    To the extent that those of us who call ourselves Christians have let the Pharisees take over the shop (as was to some extent inevitable, given human depravity), then you and Angra (who are making the best arguments above) should go elsewhere.
    [*There’s a longer story about the role of liturgy and about the church as a corporate unit, but the hope for and instantiation of reconciliation are foundational with respect to these other aspects. If someone is better reconciled outside of the visible church, then who is anyone else to judge?]

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  33. Paul Avatar
    Paul

    Jon,
    This isn’t a doctrinal debate but rather a debate over the meaning of two terms. Second, the HC, which is part of the three forms of unity, is not “canonical” for “Presbyterians” (PCA?, OPC?, PCUSA?). The term you’re looking for here would be “secondary doctrinal standards,” and that role would be filled by the Westminster standards (WCF, WLC, WSC). In any event, you’re wrong. If you don’t want to “debate” the matter with me, fine, perhaps Ursinas’ authoritative commentary on the HC will be sufficient to show you your confusion:
    http://books.google.com/books?id=RgdMAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA287&lpg=PA287&dq=the+doctrine+of+the+invisible+church+heidelberg&source=bl&ots=HJXiO91Uhy&sig=zjrr26cGXWK8RtdZ0cUCcxVkHFU&hl=en&sa=X&ei=0dAAU_XhOYa9yAGt8oHIAg&ved=0CC0Q6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q=the%20doctrine%20of%20the%20invisible%20church%20heidelberg&f=false
    And, since you brought it up: I may do something nice today, but I’d much rather hear about the “nice” thing that was done for me by another, a thing I could not do for myself. If my hope rests in all the nice things I do, I’m screwed, and so are you!

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  34. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    Hi Alan: one reason to post this post is that I think that the re-introduction of realist theism in PoR, which is usually regarded as a great victory by Christian philosophers, is perhaps a pyrrhic victory. I’m not saying that Kierkegaard’s existential perspective etc are necessarily better, or that philosophers of religion should just turn away from analytic frameworks, as Trakakis suggested. Rather, by focusing exclusively and narrowly on the rationality of theism and its plausibility as a metaphysical framework, theistic philosophers are playing the atheist’s game. By not taking into account, philosophically, other considerations such as those of practical rather than theoretical rationality, they now conduct philosophy and construct defenses of theism purely along the lines of an assumption of atheism as a broad background default stance. This is even the case for Plantinga who says religious belief is as basic to him as the belief that others have minds (something I still have difficulties wrapping my mind around, but then, I cannot peer into the mindset of another person).
    In such a framework, the leap into religious belief looks indeed totally unwarranted and contrary to reason. I do not think religious arguments are very strong (although I think some are better than others), but my point is that analytic PoR should leave more room for other considerations, such as how the religious lifestyle can help (some people) to flourish and derive aesthetic enjoyment. Examples of such analytic philosophy are Wettsteins’ significance of religious experience, and Stump’s wandering in darkness (which brings to the fore the rich inferential potential of narratives). So I think there is hope for analytic PoR to move away from this narrow focus on whether theism is plausible, to a more intense philosophical consideration of religion as a practical lifestyle and way of relating to the world. As I said earlier, this does not need to be cashed out in explicitly anti-realist terms, and is compatible with robust realism. I think that once those practical aspects are considered, it is not so clear whether religion is indeed a leap from reason and completely unwarranted. It depends from where you come from, and what you expect from religion.

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  35. Mark Avatar
    Mark

    I guess I think that if you go to analytical philosophy of religion expecting to find it dominated by folks talking about the rationality of religious belief, then what you will see is just a bunch of folks talking about the rationality of religious belief. This is just one sliver of what goes on in philosophy of religion.
    Further, unless the propositions that constitute standard theism are at least take to be live options epistemically, it is hard to see how the practices of Christianity could be practically reasonable to act on. Given that the force of arguments like that from evil and from divine hiddenness (etc.) could very well be to close theism off as even a live option epistemically, it is hard to see how a defense in terms of practical rationality can forgo the treatment of these problems.
    I also don’t understand in what sense Plantinga “conduct[s] philosophy and construct[s] defenses of theism purely along the lines of an assumption of atheism as a broad background default stance.”

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  36. V. Alan White Avatar
    V. Alan White

    Helen and Jon–
    Please do not think that I don’t appreciate edifying effects of thoughtful religious practice and a devotional life. I can see in your writings here both of you are very reflective and have a terrific temperament in blogging, and today that’s no mean feat! Though I cannot go back to theism myself, I’m not so hard-headed to think I’ve got a grasp on the truth on much of anything. I hold Hick in great esteem for his unfailing criticism of every tough issue in POR, and certainly cannot hold myself up as comparable to him or you two in all this. Thanks for listening and the feedback.

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  37. Charles R Avatar
    Charles R

    Having gone all the way from Plantinga to Pascal to Zhuangzhi via Žižek and LeGuin, I tend to think Helen is exactly right that an emphasis on the reasonableness of religious praxis—where we’re to regard believing and the behaviors stemming from living within the set of beliefs as a cognitive process evaluated under procedures a community, or the more common but latent idea of a universal rational model, uses to legitimate certain processes over others—is going to miss out on not simply a lot of how religious people are or what religious people do, but it will assume something about the category ‘the religious’ that is likely not even all that true about how people fit their lives into the world without any appeal to rationality or reason but to living. Focusing all the way down to the basic components of beliefs—where Plantinga turns around the tradition of first principles (as Pascal famously summarizes concerning the reasons, the logics, of the heart and reasons knowing of them) into something where people respond to an impression using a sense the Spirit speculatively created within them to have—we still do not capture a religious praxis where there are no words, no explicit rules, no doctrinal arrangements constraining how a human must experience the divine or the transcendent. Is this space of life still called religion if we’ve defined religion to be primarily about beliefs, whether propositions or attitudes towards propositions? Well, it seems people do: by calling it ‘mysticism’, shuffle it off to something we can’t discuss or debate since there are no ways of determining how to go about finding out who is wrong (since that’s the main obsession: closing off bad versions of belief and allowing for good belief plurality; we can’t be believing in ‘silly’ things, afterall!), and stick back on debating what’s the right interpretation of a creed or a person’s stance to the creed.
    But what Zhuangzhi—I accept I am likely quite idiosyncratic and completely out of the contemporary scholarship on this—proposes about butchers and never-sharpened knives or rabbit traps once the rabbit is caught is that the mindlessness of doing one’s tasks, one’s living, escapes words without there having to be thinking about it, and this is such an open experience to any person that it’s not fundamentally irrational at all. What’s irrational is obsessing about what word, rule, procedure, or formal structure of geometric analysis is the correct one to use to decide what meaning there is inherent to a thing and one’s relationships to all of it and its pieces and parts. The time when we’re most aware of the keyboard we use to type is when our fingers slip or the USB hub unexpectedly shuts down; otherwise, what’s the point in obsessing whether dvorak or qwerty is more efficient at translating the meaning a person produces when listening to the person fumbling and smiling and laughing and crying and sitting tells us much more about them and their world the longer we listen?
    Unless we are tacitly assuming that all of our keyboards are broken, in which case, we’re right back to the key question (or, the question of keys/ciphers) of Pascal and Zhuangzhi, and many, many others: how is it possible we’ve gotten so far away from living, into such wretchedness and distractions as these, obsessing about benevolence and righteousness and the right method to simplify complex conceptual analysis, as though it’s not much more than this, when it is only ‘more’ in the sense of simply embracing the fundamental incompatibility of our attempt to synthesize meaning with the entire domain of the necessary conditions of understanding, i.e., the totality and infinity of the whole universe? The thing I find fascinating about Pascal’s apologetic project that’s so very different from the tradition stemming from Leibniz right on through Plantinga and other more popular apologists is how Pascal doesn’t really deal with suffering except to say that whatever meaning suffering has in our lives, it’s a humbling activity. But this means it’s no different, in the end, from the meaning reasoning or embedding one’s self in the ‘body of thinking members’ (Pascal’s return to the language of Paul in the Corinthian letters) has for us: to humble ourselves; always being for the others; loving them through love of the hidden, coy god, the god who demands solicitousness over confidence. The material limitations suffering forces upon us are not that different from all the other limitations we acknowledge: the spiritual, intellectual, political. Thus, once humbled, we don’t approach any of these areas with the sense that having a more trained mind or a more trained reason overcomes the limitations and gets us finality (“Well, that’s that, I’ve surfed the entire Internet. Now for fiction.”). Being humbled, we embrace the mysteries, the puzzles, the aporias, because they are the constitutive feature of all our lives at every moment—we can’t get inside another person’s head and see it the way they do, since how they see still isn’t even just a matter of where their eyeballs are, much less get inside the mind of the goat, the tree, or the rocks that will supposedly cry out to God if no one else will. If we accept that, then the problem isn’t as relevant as how one fits a life into the context of all the other fitting lives, how one flows with it all rather than push against the river.
    In this broader sense, and y’all can tell me after reading this if it counts as either commonsense in the crudest way (sort of a logical extrapolation of Tim’s argument) or a non-realist approach to suffering (sort of a variation of the anesthetizing strategy Jon mentioned) or a flippant dismissal of what’s really happening (sort of a denial of the taking-seriously G claimed), suffering is not only part of the world but nothing distinct from pleasure or the lack of suffering. It’s rearrangement of material. Forms of life have assembled, disassembled, some of which generated some variation of consciousness and most not; some of which knew their own suffering and tried to avoid it for immanent reasons. Eliminating suffering has unintended consequences, not because it might leave us without the so-called virtues of compassion or charity or mercy or pity or helping others in time of need, but because what we call suffering from the perspective of the molecules or the viruses or the cnidarians or the clouds or the continents isn’t that at all but how they need to move. Getting out of the way of how things move is okay, getting in their way and redirecting them is worse, but going along with the movement is best.
    But this is the same ‘best praxises’ one takes in understanding one’s interlocutors in a philosophical setting. It is best to listen, worse to cut off, and okay to focus on something else. It seems doing the best in a political context, were all to go with the flow. It seems the best in an amorous context. It doesn’t even seem like a strategy at all, but how one lives. Is this contrary to reason, a leap into a faith that is explicitly unreasonable and untenable?
    Maybe. I don’t know.

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  38. Jon Cogburn Avatar
    Jon Cogburn

    Well I certainly agree with your final paragraph! Also, thanks for the link to the cool commentary.
    PCUSA significantly expanded the set of confessions we take as authoritative (I didn’t mean to use the term “canonical” in a rigorous way). It now includes The Nicene Creed, The Apostles Creed, The Scots Confession, The Heidelberg Catechism, The Second Helvetic Confession, The Westminster Confession of Faith, The Shorter Catechism, The Larger Catechism, The Theological Declaration of Barmen, The Confession of 1967, and the 1967 Brief Statement of Faith.
    This year’s General Assembly will debate further redacting the Heidelberg Catechism and adding the Belhar Confession.
    Three things are important vis a vis our disagreement. First, the various confessions and catechisms are not consistent with one another on all matters. This is openly recognized in the introduction to the official PCUSA publication. For example, the Second Helvetic Confession is inconsistent with double predestination, which occurs prominently in the Westminster Confession.
    Second, though these texts are authoritative, as Presbyterian I have a lot of autonomy with respect to how to interpret them. I am required to read them according to the rule of love, as testimony to Jesus’ Lordship, and consistently with the best academic scholarship concerning them.
    Third, the church is always in need of reform and always reforming. Part of the reform concerns precisely how we should in our historical and cultural context understand phrases like “the invisible church.”

    So yes, I have an obligation to study the commentary to which you linked (and I’m excited to do so). But, again, given the entire context of its use in the Second Helvetic Confession, as well as the way the church has reformed since then, it’s just not a stretch to understand the invisible church in a way in tension with other Reformation thinkers. Here’s the context in which the invisible church is invoked in the Second Helvetic Confession.

    And although God knows who are his, and here and there mention is made of the small number of elect, yet we must hope well of all, and not rashly judge any man to be a reprobate. . . And when the Lord was asked whether there were few that should be saved, he does not answer and tell them that few or many should be saved or damned, but rather he exhorts every man to “strive to enter by the narrow door” (Luke 13:24) (X)
    . . .we do not so narrowly restrict the Church as to teach that all those are outside the Church who either do not participate in the sacraments, at least not willingly and through contempt, but rather, being forced by necessity, unwillingly abstain from them or are deprived of them; or in whom faith sometimes fails, though it is not entirely extinguished and does not wholly cease; or in whom imperfections and errors due to weakness are found. For we know that God had some friends in the world outside the commonwealth of Israel. We know what befell the people of God in the captivity of Babylon, where they were deprived of their sacrifices for seventy years. We know what happened to St. Peter, who denied his Master, and what is wont to happen daily to God’s elect and faithful people who go astray and are weak. We know, moreover, what kind of churches the churches in Galatia and Corinth were in the apostles’ time, in which the apostle found fault with many serious offenses; yet he calls them holy churches of Christ (I Cor. 1:2, GAl. 1:2)

    . . .Whence the Church of God may be termed invisible; not because the men from whom the Church is gathered are invisible, but because, being hidden from our eyes and known only to God, it often secretly escapes human judgment. (XVII)

    The strong impression is that God’s grace works through people lacking belief and liturgy and it’s not our job to judge who is elect and who isn’t both in and out of the church that we see with our eyes.
    Please have the last word on this so that we don’t entirely hijack the thread!

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  39. Clerk Avatar
    Clerk

    I really enjoyed Jon Kvanvig’s “Affective Theism”, which is relevant to the issues being discussed here.

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  40. Jon Cogburn Avatar

    Ooh, very nice! Thanks for this. It really does address the OP quite nicely.
    Kvanvig is generally awesome and the paper doesn’t disappoint. His point about how modern, overly cognitivist construals of belief really don’t capture the traditional sense is right on, as is his demonstration of how the new atheists and too many contemporary intellectual theists get “belief” disastrously wrong. I want to think deeply about the specifics, but it’s one of the most plausible things I’ve read from a non-anti-realist, non-Wittgensteinian (and more plausible than those alternatives).
    Kvanvig’s also willing to criticize aspects of the tradition, which I think is really important for Christian philosophers. Too many apologists don’t go beyond Strawsonian descriptive metaphysics with respect to (their own view of) the tradition. But such a project is weirdly quietist for people otherwise healthily metaphysical. It tends to lead to a separation of mind and heart within the Christian Philosopher as well: (1) The tradition is inconsistent in important ways, some constitutively so and some as a spur to reform. The apophantic aspect of religion (an aspect that analytic philosophy of religion tends to make a complete hash of; to be fair, it’s hard to describe that which people claim to elide description) trades in true contradictions. But contradictions that have nothing to do with the apophantic tradition are being worked out through reform. (2) Things change, again necessitating reform so that the religion is appropriate for our time and place. (3) As a human institution, the church is going to be imperfect, again necessitating reform. It’s nice to see an example of how philosophy of religion can actually being part of this reform.
    Anyhow, Kvanvig’s piece is on-line at https://bearspace.baylor.edu/Jonathan_Kvanvig/www/tex/thenewatheism.pdf .

    Here’s the ultimate moment of Kvanvig’s opening spiel.

    We can think of the criticisms in question, and the characterization of
    faith on which they rely, as inherently cognitive. Such a picture arises
    quite naturally from our use of the term ‘faith’ to stand for the particular
    truth claims made by a given religion. There is talk of the Christian faith,
    the Baptist Faith and Message; talk of knowing what “we” believe and why
    (a phrase strangely at odds with first-person authority regarding our own
    mental states). Moreover, the history of religion is fairly represented by the
    history of Christianity, in which major differences of opinion are resolved
    in a way that calls down damnation on those who do not doxastically
    conform. From this use of the language of faith, it is easy to adopt a
    cognitive picture of what faith involves: to be a Christian is to endorse the
    Christian faith, it is to believe and have faith in some vague but important
    subset of the truths that constitute the Christian faith.
    I said above that I hardly recognize this picture of religious faith and
    religious life. Here, I’ll try to say why, but a quick preview will help set the
    stage. Religious life is a matter of both head and heart, and the cognitive
    picture above has the head dominant. I will here reverse the order of

    dependence.

    Great stuff!

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  41. Kelly James Clark Avatar

    Again, Helen, thanks for all of this. There’s a quote in someone, somewhere that says something like, “I’d rather alleviate suffering than discuss it philosophically.” Philosophers have a tendency to the latter (but such is not to everyone’s taste).
    If one discusses suffering philosophically, one might be thought not to care about alleviating it (or taking it seriously enough). Of course, that doesn’t follow, and we shouldn’t be too quick to attribute insensitivity to those who discuss it philosophically. I don’t think we should put too much stock in Plantinga’s free will defense (which only needs to be logically possible) as a theodicy (which needs to be true). I suspect if Plantinga really knew why God allowed evil, he’d tell us. I don’t think he’s holding something back.
    I also think, since AP is a lightning rod, that we need to understand the context in which he wrote most of his major work on God and evil. It was a time when philosophy of religion was non-existent, logical positivism alleged metaphysics was cognitively meaningless, and people thought the logical problem of evil had refuted rational belief in God once and for all. Maybe that’s not our day now. One thing is for sure–every theist who discusses God and suffering is riding on AP’s wake. He opened intellectual doors that were closed for decades.
    I don’t think most philosophers most of the time are writing very much that is sensitive to the problem of human suffering (this is not something AP is especially guilty of). Look at any “top-ranked” philosophical journal. I published Abraham’s Children: Diversity and Dialogue In an Age of Religious Conflict and many journals have refused to review it because there’s not enough philosophy in it. Try to take philosophy out to the world and it’s not valued in the profession. I don’t recall Philosophers Who Believe getting any reviews in philosophical journals, either (except, maybe, a couple in philosophy of religion.

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  42. Helen De Cruz Avatar

    Hi Kelly: Thanks very much for your thoughtful response and for putting the Free Will Defense in its historical dialectical context, something that is always important to consider when we look at philosophical work. And as I mentioned to Eleonore Stump, my writing of this post does not deny the tremendous importance of Plantinga’s work in our discipline, and the fact that he made things open to discussion that were previously thought no longer viable options. I also do value the role of philosophy in making some worldviews (like theism) viable options that rational people are willing to entertain.
    However, since (most?) philosophers at least now seem to acknowledge that PoR is a viable discipline with interesting questions that can be discussed for their philosophical merits, I think it is important – especially in interviews and other work for a wider audience – to emphasize the importance of practice, education, other contextual factors. I think it is important because it is important for most ordinary people who are reading that interview, and so I think it is also philosophically important (e.g., the belonging to a religious community and the outcomes this has for an individual). The Cartesian ideal of building a philosophy that is completely removed from any ideas we’ve gotten through our education and upbringing is regarded as untenable, yet analytic philosophy has not explored in detail how we can build a philosophy that isn’t built from scratch.

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  43. Kelly James Clark Avatar
    Kelly James Clark

    Yep, 100% agreed. PoR is Christian philosophy, by and large, and a particular variety of Christian philosophy. Moreover, it assumes a method that may not be entirely adequate to its subject (whatever its subject is). I think that standard PoR model is discipline defining in two pernicious ways–it admits of no other methods and it restricts the subject matter. I’ve been working with Muslim and Jewish philosophers and also work in Chinese philosophy as well. The latter group has a great deal of trouble gaining traction in the profession (they don’t generally fit the methods and subject matter criteria, either). It’s time for philosophy generally and philosophy of religion in particular to become genuinely pluralistic (and not so imperialistic).

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  44. Patrick S. O'Donnell Avatar

    We raised this complaint not too long ago on this blog.
    My late teacher, Ninian Smart, was a true trailblazer when it came to a sophisticated appreciation of the value of non-Christian philosophy of religion (although he had a blind spot with regard to Islam), as evidenced in his 1970 book, Philosophy of Religion (Random House; a 1979 edition by Oxford University has some corrections but he ‘let the argument stand unaltered’). It’s rather disappointing how little progress has been made since then! Of course the IEP and SEP are now including relevant entries here, but textbooks remain, with a few notable exceptions, largely the same (unless things have changed dramatically in the last couple of years). Incidentally, Smart wrote the entries for Indic philosophical schools in Paul Edwards, ed., The Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Vols., 1-8 (Macmillan and Free Press, 1967).

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  45. Alan White Avatar
    Alan White

    In relation to pluralism one reason I still use Hick in my Intro POR course is that he wrote God and the Universe of Faiths, which may be parochial from the monotheistic perspective that he favors, but at least strives to be ecumenical in the most sweeping multicultural sense. Hick’s Intro is very dated and contains significant errors (e.g., his analogy of the possible failure of eschatological verificationism to the possibility of three successive sevens in pi as also unfalsifiable was outdated when he first wrote about it in the early 60s–they already knew that 3 such digits occurred in the first 1500 digits of pi–but more significantly he used an overdetermined example: if pi as a random sequence plausibly contains all finite sequenced subsets, it cannot serve as an example of a hypothesis that is like eschatological verification, which in principle cannot be falsified if false). But Hick’s embracing vision of religion is admirable nonetheless. He wishes to make room for any religious belief that that at least not non-rational.

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  46. Patrick S. O'Donnell Avatar

    Alan,
    Perhaps you know –and if I recall correctly–that Hick and Smart were friends and apart from collaborating on several occasions, Ninian contributed to a volume in his honor. In graduate seminars Ninian often referred to Hick’s arguments. Hick in fact succeeded Smart as the H. G. Wood chair of philosophy of religion at Birmingham (‘in 1961 at the very young age of 34 – extraordinarily young for a full chair in the British system – [Smart] became the first H. G. Wood Professor of Theology at Birmingham’). And the book by Hick you mentioned for your course reminded me of Ninian’s 1958 classic, Reasons and Faiths: An Investigation of Religious Discourse, Christian and Non-Christian (Routledge & Kegan Paul). As he wrote in the Preface, “The general aim of this book is to describe the nature of religious doctrines and concepts. But not just those of theism (the main preoccupation of philosophers of religion in the past[!]), but also those of important and different faiths, notably Buddhism and Hinduism. Among those acknowledged by Smart is J.L. Austin, who supervised his postgraduate work at Oxford.

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  47. Alan White Avatar
    Alan White

    Patrick (if I may)–
    Thanks so much for that background, much of which I did not know. I’m familiar with some of Smart’s work, but seeing this cross-fertilization is quite eye-opening. Generous of you to comment on that.

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