In our last installment of The Loftus
Chronicles, John was claiming that How Jesus Passes the Outsider Test:
the Inside Story could not have been written and should not have been
endorsed by any real scholars. I make
too many “egregious errors,” for one thing.
So we gamely inquired what those errors were.
John’s first critique (echoed from Arizona
Atheist) was that I was contradicting myself by claiming that the Outsider Test
for Faith (OTF) was flawed, and then saying it had passed in the case of
Christianity “billions of times.” This, I
noted, is a feeble objection indeed.
There is no contradiction, after all, between saying “These glasses are
muddy,” and saying, “But I see clearly enough to know that it is snowing,” still
less, “And after I wipe them off, I can hit a 90 mile an hour fast ball.”
The rest of John’s complaints, to be concise,
also failed. Yes, whatever John thinks,
I did write about testing Christianity from outsider perspectives six years
before John invented the OTF, even if our tests were not identical. Yes, Loftus does use the OTF as a weapon with
which to attack Christianity, as I said, and indeed as he admitted himself, in
black and white. And no, I do not deny
diversity among religions. I claim,
though, that Loftus denies similarities, which are also real, because those
similarities show how Secular Humanism fails to pass the OTF. Even in the act of responding to my
arguments, John tries again to sweep those similarities under the carpet, as if
he found them embarrassing -- and they may be, to his philosophy of life.
In this post, I respond to John’s second set of
complaints. Again, let’s quote a few of
John’s comments, and respond to them, before addressing his main
arguments.
“I will attempt to show why
Marshall's book, How Jesus Passes the Outsider Test:
The Inside Story,is really bad . . . So let's continue, shall
we?
”Having taken a few unsuccessful and superficial pot shots at my level of understanding regarding the problem to be solved, which is widespread worldwide religious diversity down through the centuries as well as in different cultures today . . . “
”Having taken a few unsuccessful and superficial pot shots at my level of understanding regarding the problem to be solved, which is widespread worldwide religious diversity down through the centuries as well as in different cultures today . . . “
No, actually what I do is correct several major
errors in Loftus’ argument, which other commentators have also noticed. The difference between them and me, is I
think the argument is salvageable, if not John’s conclusion. John’s “understanding” is not my concern,
since my book is only superficially and on a few pages about John Loftus.
”Marshall takes issue with me by saying, "cultural dependency in our 'Christian' culture may be real, but is by no stretch of the imagination 'overwhelming.'" (p. 23)
”Now I wasn't just talking about Christian cultures, but cultures in general, and it is as demonstrable of a fact as one can get that one's religion is dependent to an overwhelming degree on one's culture.”
Really? Is
is more demonstrable that the religion of early Greek Christians like Justin
and Clement and Origen were “overwhelmingly dependent” on their Greek culture
than that, say, two and two is four?
Or is this merely “certainly true” in a
subjective sense, to John Loftus?
“It is overwhelming that children of
Muslim sects in Muslim countries will adopt the religion of their parents.
Overwhelming.”
One gets the feeling Loftus thinks he can
convince people by repeating the word “overwhelming” a bunch of times and, uh,
overwhelming their defenses.
“That is the most extreme example of
course, but it sets the rule for other cultures as well. Even without the demand that apostates be
killed inside Muslim theocracies, in non-Muslim countries Islam is still
growing very fast without force. As
another example show me children raised in a snake handler's family which is
cut off from the outside world and they'll also overwhelmingly adopt the
religion of their parents, if they survive the snake bites. ;-) That too sets
the rule.”
Huh? Why
should we allow extreme cases to “set the rule?” How many snake handlers do you know, who are
furthermore “cut off from the outside world?”
For that matter, how many Americans in general are cut off from the
secular world?
John does make a valid distinction here, between
cultures that physically force those in it to believe a certain way, and
cultures that merely coerce or encourage belief. (One that I bring up in the book.) But as I explain, sociologists recognize that
social coercion can also be very strong as well -- depending on the
culture. This is an empirical question,
one can’t just ASSUME it is always “overwhelming.” Actually cultures where Christianity is
widely accepted tend to be fairly free cultures.
“Now it might be true that American,
Canadian and certainly European nations are not as Christianized as they were a
few decades or more ago. To the degree
they are still Christianized then people will adopt the Christianity they were
exposed to within them. There should be
nothing controversial about any of this, not even from Marshall, I would think.”
To what extent are Western countries “Christianized?” To what extent are they “secularized?” If children go to church two hours a week,
and to secular schools 40 hours a week, how can Christianization be “overwhelming?”
That is the real question. If Loftus simply refuses to face it, his
failure to think the issue through fully will continue undermining his version
of the OTF, whether he acknowledges it and adjusts it properly for secularist
bias, or not. I am a mere spectator: I
don’t much care if John’s version of the OTF is ever fixed. But taking into account the level of
anti-Christian as well as pro-Christian pressure in western societies, is one
correction that is quite obviously required.
”What Marshall really seems to be objecting to is that while we're living in largely Christian cultures we're not living in overwhelmingly Christian cultures. More importantly I suppose, he's objecting that cultures in the western world are not overwhelmingly evangelical Christian ones. But this objection of his is irrelevant to my main point, and therefore does nothing at all to undercut it . . . ”
”What Marshall really seems to be objecting to is that while we're living in largely Christian cultures we're not living in overwhelmingly Christian cultures. More importantly I suppose, he's objecting that cultures in the western world are not overwhelmingly evangelical Christian ones. But this objection of his is irrelevant to my main point, and therefore does nothing at all to undercut it . . . ”
Then why, John, do you keep yakking about
isolated snake handlers, kids raised in the South by KKK parents, and Saudis,
if not to make us forget that OUR culture is NOT overwhelmingly Christian?
Obviously, if the culture we are raised in is
come combination of Christian and secular (plus maybe occult New Age and other
influences), then in seeking genuine objectivity, we need to beware equally of
all three (+) biasing influences. That’s
the point. Is it really so
unreasonable? Have I really betrayed my
lack of scholarly chops by making it?
So is there “Overwhelming Support?”
”In any case, I do think many western societies still provide overwhelming cultural support for Christianity in general. Stretching back for centuries and into the present, Christianity still shows up in our language, critical life events, everyday habits, bodily habits, institutions, and even understandings of time and space, as David Eller writes in the first chapter of my book "The Christian Delusion." Let's just take our language as one example. See if this still doesn't have an impact on us for adopting a particular sect of Christianity:”
The following words are, I
guess, from David Eller -- they sound like his, though I won’t look them up for
now. So I put them in blue, to
distinguish them. Let’s quote the whole,
three long paragraph spiel, then respond:
“Language
”A society’s language is the first but hardly the only place to look for the subtle power of religion. Even atheists talk the language of religion, which in American society means “speaking Christian.” Every religion not only infiltrates the local language but is a language in its own right, with its own vocabulary that has no meaning outside of that religion. For example, Christianity is rich with terminology that often has no correlate in other religions, such as “god,” “heaven,” “hell,” “sin,” “angel,” “devil,” “bless,” “soul,” “saint,” “pray,” “sacred,” “divine,” “baptism,” “purgatory,” “gospel,” and so on. These are not neutral, universal notions but are specific to this one religion. A religion like Hinduism has its own unique lexicon, with dharma and karma and samsara and moksha and yuga and so on. Christians cannot “say” these things, since they do not occur in Christianity, and Hindus cannot say “Christian things” since those things do not occur in Hinduism.
”But there is much more to a religion than its vocabulary; religions, like other areas of culture, include specific things to say. Some of these conventional things to say are propositional, that is, truth claims like “God exists” or “Jesus was the son of God.” Many are not propositional, however. They may be utterances of power, meant to have an effect on the world, from “God bless America” to Navajo prayers for health to phrases like “abracadabra.” Much of religious talk is consists of scripts, routines that people perform just as surely as saying “Hello, how are you?” or “Have a nice day”; at the extreme, these scripts become liturgies, like a Catholic mass or a wedding ceremony.
”Religion also provides stories (which are usually intended to apply to and organize our own lives in some way) and metaphors for thinking about the world and our behavior in it. And we would be remiss if we did not acknowledge that religious language can also keep secrets, obfuscate the truth, manipulate hearers, and sometimes tell out-and-out lies. A religion like Christianity also supplies images, stories, and metaphors that pervade the culture’s speech and thought. Even a short list of such ideas and illustrations highlights how Christian-soaked our speech-community is: Mark of Cain, Garden of Eden, David versus Goliath, Jacob’s ladder, patience of Job, “my cross to bear,” “spare the rod and spoil the child,” “beat swords into plowshares,” “voice crying in the wilderness,” “Can the leopard change his spots?,” “hide your light under a bushel,” “wolf in sheep’s clothing,” “wars and rumors of wars,” “Physician heal thyself,” “lost sheep,” “grapes of wrath,” “cast the first stone,” “through a glass darkly,” and many, many more. Most atheists use most of these phrases without any thought for their source—and how the use serves the source.”
”A society’s language is the first but hardly the only place to look for the subtle power of religion. Even atheists talk the language of religion, which in American society means “speaking Christian.” Every religion not only infiltrates the local language but is a language in its own right, with its own vocabulary that has no meaning outside of that religion. For example, Christianity is rich with terminology that often has no correlate in other religions, such as “god,” “heaven,” “hell,” “sin,” “angel,” “devil,” “bless,” “soul,” “saint,” “pray,” “sacred,” “divine,” “baptism,” “purgatory,” “gospel,” and so on. These are not neutral, universal notions but are specific to this one religion. A religion like Hinduism has its own unique lexicon, with dharma and karma and samsara and moksha and yuga and so on. Christians cannot “say” these things, since they do not occur in Christianity, and Hindus cannot say “Christian things” since those things do not occur in Hinduism.
”But there is much more to a religion than its vocabulary; religions, like other areas of culture, include specific things to say. Some of these conventional things to say are propositional, that is, truth claims like “God exists” or “Jesus was the son of God.” Many are not propositional, however. They may be utterances of power, meant to have an effect on the world, from “God bless America” to Navajo prayers for health to phrases like “abracadabra.” Much of religious talk is consists of scripts, routines that people perform just as surely as saying “Hello, how are you?” or “Have a nice day”; at the extreme, these scripts become liturgies, like a Catholic mass or a wedding ceremony.
”Religion also provides stories (which are usually intended to apply to and organize our own lives in some way) and metaphors for thinking about the world and our behavior in it. And we would be remiss if we did not acknowledge that religious language can also keep secrets, obfuscate the truth, manipulate hearers, and sometimes tell out-and-out lies. A religion like Christianity also supplies images, stories, and metaphors that pervade the culture’s speech and thought. Even a short list of such ideas and illustrations highlights how Christian-soaked our speech-community is: Mark of Cain, Garden of Eden, David versus Goliath, Jacob’s ladder, patience of Job, “my cross to bear,” “spare the rod and spoil the child,” “beat swords into plowshares,” “voice crying in the wilderness,” “Can the leopard change his spots?,” “hide your light under a bushel,” “wolf in sheep’s clothing,” “wars and rumors of wars,” “Physician heal thyself,” “lost sheep,” “grapes of wrath,” “cast the first stone,” “through a glass darkly,” and many, many more. Most atheists use most of these phrases without any thought for their source—and how the use serves the source.”
What are we to make of this mass
of observations?
John’s argument (as opposed
to Eller’s observations, attached perhaps to some related argument) appears to
be something of this form:
(1) There are many phrases in English that trace ultimately
to the Bible.
(2) These phrases provide subtle encouragement for
English-speakers to accept Christian teaching.
(3) Therefore, Christianity does overwhelmingly depend in the
West upon culture.
The first premise is
certainly true. But from there on, there
are so many gaping holes in this argument, it is hard to know where to
begin.
Yes, some English phrases do
trace to Christian influence. But how
many idioms are there in English, total?
Apparently more than 10,000. Let
us suppose 400 of those idioms derive, consciously to English speakers or not,
from the Bible (a “drop in the bucket”), 500 from American sports, and 200 from
Shakespeare. Does that mean when a man
tells his friend, “I couldn’t get to second base with that girl,” his friend
will feel a strong compulsion to play baseball, and give up his love for
soccer? And citing “a rose by any other
name” will subtly pressure the hearer to join Shakespeare’s Anglican
church?
Let us suppose there is some
such pressure. But how much? Could it be detected by a set of weights
designed to calibrate human emotions?
Is Eller seriously proposing
that such phrases play an important role, let alone an overwhelming one, in why
anyone actually becomes or stays a Christian?
Or is Loftus just using these prosaic general observations to install linguistic
paranoia in the hearts of his followers?
(“Oh no! My own language! English words are “wolves in sheep’s
clothing!” They’re out to get us
atheists! “A house divided against
itself cannot stand!” My God, I can’t
say anything! Oops, I just said ‘God!’ Can’t I even swear without subverting my own
beliefs and bowing the knee to the Vatican!
AHHHHHHHH! I repent of my sins,
please forgive me . . . I will join Opus Dei at sunrise!”
Just when one thinks satire
is dead.
And then I watch a typical
Hollywood movie, and as I told my students after watching the otherwise
excellent Good Will Hunting, “If you took one word out, the movie would
be 20 minutes shorter.”
What word was I referring
to? An old Anglo-Saxon word, a term for
love-making that actually implies naked animality rather than Christian
romance. It’s a word that I suspect one
hears more in many quarters than all the Biblical idioms combined, by gross
weight. And may “subtly influence” or
inflame thought just a tad bit more than “walk the extra mile.”
Come on, John, try another
bluff.
”The fact is that most all of our beliefs are culturally dependent as any others. We're all raised as believers. Whatever our parents taught us we believed.”
Yes. Education is the advantage human beings hold
over, say, caterpillars. Some call it “civilization,”
but it begins even with the smarter animals, like wolves and even birds.
And yes, we are even smarter
than wolves, so we do need to grow up and question our beliefs -- that’s something
John and I agree upon. Only I don’t
think “our beliefs” are defined simply and solely, or even predominately, by
the Bible, even if we’re Christians.
“Our brains fool
us. Our brains are belief engines. Our thinking is irrational much of the time. We prefer to believe that which we prefer to
believe, and to defend that which we were raised to believe.”
Or that which, having
rebelled against the sense of our wiser ancestors, we choose to believe in
reaction, instead. Fools appear in every
generation, and on all sides of a debate.
“Since we are
all in the same drifting rudderless epistemological boat, as I said, we need a
test that allows for all options to be on the table, including the
non-religious option in which all faiths fail the test.”
All options have been on the
table for centuries. The Enlightenment
is old news. Atheism ruled a third of
the world exclusively, and even America is “a nation of Indians ruled by
Swedes.” And we have had tests to choose
which option is best all during those same centuries. I describe three kinds in Jesus and the
Religions of Man: moral, existential, and rational tests. And one of the tests I described there
already, as well as in the brand new book, is the test John is promoting,
though I think in a much-improved form.
But here we come to the most
important issue in this rather gossipy post, and where John points to what he
thinks is a real error.
David Marshall, denier of
science?
“Marshall asks
if his belief ‘that the earth circles the sun is 'culturally dependent.'"
(p. 26) Of course not. Not in today's world of modern science with
space explorations and moon landings. Who
would even ask such a question? Is he
really serious? He says other such
things that are quite embarrassing of his understanding of science here.”
What is embarrassing, is how
baldly and obviously John misunderstands me, and makes as if it were a virtue
to misunderstand.
Of course all our scientific
knowledge depends on culture, almost exactly in the strict sense John sets out
in regard to religion:
”To an overwhelming degree, one’s religious (scientific) faith is causally dependent on brain processes, cultural conditions, and irrational thinking patterns.” (OTF, 15-6)
”To an overwhelming degree, one’s religious (scientific) faith is causally dependent on brain processes, cultural conditions, and irrational thinking patterns.” (OTF, 15-6)
Now obviously we can bracket
the third dependence, on “irrational thinking patterns,” as mere begging of the
question. I think Christian faith
depends on rational thinking patterns, which is why I’m a Christian. John can’t simply define religion as
irrational in a premise, then conclude that it is irrational in his conclusion
-- that would be arguing in a circle. Of
course if Christianity arises purely from irrational thought, it would only be
true by a stroke of blind luck.
But aside from that bit of “poisoning
the well,” does not my belief that the Earth circles the sun also depend
casually on brain processes and cultural conditions? What do scientists use to arrive at
conclusions, if not their brains? Is not
thinking a brain process? Or is Loftus
admitting that we have souls? And is not
being shown a scheme of the Solar System in grade school (how most of us learn
these facts, and how I transmitted them to my boys -- printing out pictures of
the solar system on my computer at Siebold University, and letting them color
in the planets) a “cultural condition?”
So I see no reason to be
even faintly embarrassed when Loftus, apparently without understanding his own
words, let alone mine, very well, exploits my obviously true statement to toss
contempt (again) at my understanding of science. (Scientists themselves never seem to do that,
by the way.)
“He cannot tell
the difference between objective science and cultural opinions?”
Sure I can. Cultural opinions include all science, as
explained above, but also includes sports, politics, fashion, history, and
everything else objective, subjective, and somewhere in between that is shaped
by human beings collectively.
“He doesn't want
to be able to do so either, so he can go on defending the indefensible. Here's a hint, Marshall, you can do the
experiments yourself, and barring doing them, you can learn to appreciate how
the scientific method works and listen to the overwhelming consensus of
scientists who all agree.”
John Loftus is, not for the
first time, badly confused.
“Culturally-shaped” is not a
synonym for “false” or “unverifiable.”
Cultures form and shape many ideas that turn out to be true, and can be
shown to be true.
And forming and shaping is
what John Loftus spoke about when he said religious ideas depend on culture: he
said those ideas are “causally” dependent.
That refers to how they were formed, what gave rise to them.
Even among scientists,
upwards of 99% of their scientific beliefs, and 99.999% of their other beliefs,
depend causally upon what culture, that is other people, have told them.
It may be that those beliefs
do not “depend” on culture in the theoretical sense that, given resources and
time, they might be able to deduce those facts for themselves. But that is not the sense John gave for
religion. He said CAUSALLY dependent.
So he is engaged here in an
act of (no doubt unconscious) equivocation.
He uses “dependent” in two different senses, one for religion, the other
for science. And then the distinction he
draws between the two, derive from his own verbal confusion.
“If you refuse
to do this you are a science denier . . . “
Yadda, yadda.
How about the Genetic
Fallacy?
John denies committing this
fallacy:
”Lastly Marshall accuses me of committing the genetic fallacy (p. 26). Since Marshall says nothing at all that is relevant to what I already wrote in response to this objection, all I have to do at this point is quote myself:
John quotes himself at
length, then says something that I think allows me to avoid wearying the reader
with his (tangential) arguments, or with my (probably equally unprofitable)
rebuttal:
“Let me state
for the record that I have probably never met anyone who has committed the
genetic fallacy.”
Well, fine, if John is so
generous as to dismiss the charge of “genetic fallacy” against every single
person he has ever met, and by implication most of those he has not yet met, it
would be churlish of me to press it against him too unremittingly. Let the reader consider what little I
actually say on the subject in Why Jesus Passes the Outsider Test (again, the
book is about much bigger issues than John Loftus), and then Loftus’ book, if
he or she cares deeply.
But there is an odd
aberration that I should point to. In my
earlier critique of Loftus’ version of the OTF, the conclusion I ascribed to John
was that,given the cultural origins of religious beliefs, “therefore one’s
beliefs are probably wrong.”
Loftus says I am wrong, he
doesn’t commit the genetic fallacy. Then
on the next page of his book, after stating that he likely has never met anyone
who committed it, he emphasizes:
“Almost no one says, for
instance, that we can never trust a particular tabloid news story
because of the tabloid’s past reputation for dishonesty. What people might say instead, or intend to
say, is that we probably cannot trust (it) . . . “ (John’s emphasis)
Notice the word that Loftus
and I both emphasize above: “probably.”
Loftus says I’m wrong, he isn’t saying religions are “necessarily” wrong
because of their origins, just “probably.”
But isn’t that the very word
I used?
So none of Loftus’ arguments
in Part II of his critique of How Jesus Passes the Outsider Test (to the extent
that it really is a critique of my book, rather than a defense of his own hide
on what are to me minor points), demonstrates any “egregious errors” on my
part. Or any errors at all, yet. But maybe that will come, finally, in Part
III:
“One more part
to go. Next time. The kicker. Wait for it!”
I’m getting the feeling that maybe John Loftus feels he didn’t
do too well in our debate on Unbelievable. (The first part of which can be found here,
the second part should be posted this coming Saturday.) How else to explain his multiple posts since
then, first complaining that he didn’t get enough time, then attacking Randal
Rauser (of all people), and then a series of three posts critiquing my book?
Well, great, after all these years, and many posts on both
sides, John finally gets around to actually trying to rebut some of my
arguments -- sort of.
So let’s take a look at his first post, and what he claims I
get wrong.
Predictable Preliminary
Trash-Talking
I've decided to write
more than just one post about Dr. David Marshall's “rebuttal” to my book The
Outsider Test for Faith (OTF).
Call me David, please.
But How Jesus Passes the
Outsider Test: The Inside Story is not a “rebuttal” to John Loftus. With due respect to John’s considerable ego,
it is about much bigger topics: the work of God in the world, the role of Jesus
in uplifting humanity, the story of the human race from the Christian point of
view, an answer to the question, “How do religions relate to one another?”
John is a convenient jumping-off
point, not the destination.
I will attempt to
show why Marshall's book, How Jesus Passes the Outsider Test: The Inside Story,is really bad. In fact, it's so bad I'm using
the word "refutation" for what I'm about to do to it. I hardly ever use that word because
refutations are usually unachievable in these kinds of debates.
Go for it!
If I'm largely
successful then it also says something about Dr. Randal Rauser, that he will
say and endorse anything in order to defend his Christian faith.
I don’t believe that for a
moment. Actually, read his blog, and you
find that Randal is pretty choosy about what Christian artifacts he will
endorse. It follows, then, that Loftus
will probably NOT be successful, or he’s wrong about the logic.
“No educated
intellectual worthy the name would have written Marshall's book. No educated intellectual should think it's
worthy of any kind of a blurb either.”
This is disproved by the fact
that I am an educated intellectual, and I did write the book. And not just Randal Rauser, but Win Corduan
(Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Taylor University), Miriam Adeney (an anthropologist
who teaches at Seattle Pacific University), Ivan Satyavrata (an Indian
theologian), Don Richardson, Nick Peters, and Brad Cooper, all of whom can only
be described as “educated intellectuals,” in some cases much more so than John,
have also thought the book worthy of a blurb -- indeed, in most cases of high
praise indeed.
But let’s skip the naval-gazing
trash-talking of the wrong person, and get to the substance of John’s
critique.
Why do I make use of an
admittedly “flawed” argument?
Loftus begins by quoting Arizona
Atheist on a short earlier version of my argument that I wrote for a chapter of
True Reason:
Each of David Marshall’s arguments against the OTF fail.
His next tactic, regardless of how illogical it may be, is to argue that
Christianity has passed the OTF “billions of times.” (59) If an argument is by its nature “flawed,” as
Marshall contends, how then, can he possibly believe arguing that “billions”
allegedly passing this flawed test is proof that Christians have come to their
faith in a rational manner? See more here.
This is a simple-minded critique indeed, as I have come to expect from
Ken.
First, Ken is engaging in equivocation here. He is playing a shell game. Where’s the nut?
I claim the OTF, as formulated by John Loftus, is flawed. I then reformulate and make use of it.
This is a normal procedure. If your
glasses are dirty, you say “Heaven’s! My
vision is flawed with these dirty lens!”
You wipe them off, and then put them on your nose! What a contradiction! You CLAIMED your glasses were dirty, but
still used them! What a hypocrite you
are!
This is a common procedure in science, history, in every field where
flawed human beings improve on flawed procedures to come to imperfect but still
valuable conclusions.
And even if we don’t improve the instrument of vision or research, of course
we can still use flawed instruments to reach valuable procedures. The SAT test is, as everyone who teaches it,
flawed in many ways, yet we use it to learn something real about the English
ability of students.
After more such asides, including a shot at philosopher Matthew Flanagan,
Loftus promises to “correct some egregious errors” I allegedly make. In his first post, he names, and in his own
mind corrects, three such errors. That
will be enough for us to deal with in the remainder of this post.
II. Who Invented the Outsider Test for Faith?
”You should know first that (Marshall) erroneously claimed to have written about the OTF six years before I did right here. Below are the screen shots:
“I wrote about the
OTF six years before John ‘invented it,’ as a matter of fact.”
John responds:
“I don’t claim to
have invented this test, since it has been bandied about for millennia wherever
there were skeptics. I do claim to have
defended it better than anyone else, as far as I can tell. I read what Marshall said in his 2000 book. He repeated it on pages 182-83 of this new
book I’m refuting. There is nothing he
said that had not been said before him by G.K. Chesterton, using different
words. It is merely a repackaged Chesterton, which
Marshall did not acknowledge as coming from him.
Remember, Loftus is claiming to
describe “egregious errors” on my part here, so egregious that no real
intellectual should have endorsed my book, let alone written it.
So what’s the error supposed to
be?
At first Loftus says my error is
to “erroneously” claim to have written about the OTF six years before he
did. But actually, I did.
The context here is
important. I had just written three
chapters about the failures of three revolutions: Marxist, Sexual, and
Aquarian. The following three chapters
would be about the moral and existential virtues of Christianity, then after
that, would come three chapters arguing that God is real, and that miracles
really happen. Then I would conclude by
showing how the truths in many different religions point to Jesus Christ as
ultimate truth, in various ways.
At this pivotal point in the
book, here’s what I write. Does it not
sound like the suggestion that we should evaluate Christianity from an “outside”
perspective or two? (Which is precisely
what I will do in the rest of the book?)
“What should a Christian say to an idealist setting
out on a journey? Seek the good in every
spiritual tradition and cherish it; but don’t be naïve. Allow yourself to become desperate enough to
be heretical, and even desperate enough to be orthodox. Give credit where credit is due, but also
blame where blame is due. Take ideals
seriously enough to live by, even die for.
But be careful to whom you open your heart. Follow each star to the place where it
leads. Then come and look again in a
town called Bethlehem.
“What
is it you are looking for? Look, then,
for a god among the gods of humanity.
Look for a guru among the gurus of humankind at whose feet to find
enlightenment. Wear tennis shoes out
upon the holy hills of the Incas. Shake
clouds of dust from ancient manuscripts of the sacred libraries of Lhasa and
Alexandria. Ponder every sect, tribe and
teacher from Tierra Del Fuego to Tibet.
Then come, open the New Testament.
Look again at the life and teachings of the man who said of the Jewish
writings, ‘You investigate the Scriptures, because you suppose you have eternal
life in them, and they bear witness to me’” (John 5:39).
That is, most literally, a call
for an “outsider test for (Christian) faith.”
Of course I did not mean that my version exactly anticipated John’s
version.
So there is no “error” here, let
alone an “egregious” one that proves I am no true scholar.
As for my not giving Chesterton
credit, those are my words and thoughts.
It is possible he influenced my thinking on this point (I cite him
elsewhere in the book), but I had been in Asia for more than a decade already
by this time. And in my first book, had
described my own “outsider” moment that pointed me to Christ, which I
experienced a full sixteen years earlier, at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.
So I was talking from experience,
not just parroting a book or an abstract idea.
“Egregious Error Two:” Is the OTF
an argument against Christianity, or not?
This is a little weird. Loftus continues:
“Another of the many
errors of Marshall’s is that he says I present the OTF “as an argument against
Christianity.” (p. 7.) Now I do think
the OTF is a good argument against faith, but in my book I go overboard to say
it's merely a test for faith. I demand
Marshall to show us book chapter and verse where I say anything different. He cannot do that.”
Sure I can. Page 19, first full paragraph:
“As a nonbeliever, I use
the outsider test, in the third stage, to argue against religion in general and
Christianity in particular.”
Though it’s hard to refuse Loftus’
point here, because he seems to be saying both that (a) he does not use the OTF
to argue against Christianity and (b) he does.
I am egregiously wrong and not a true scholar to say John presents the
OTF as an argument against Christianity.
But he does think, and argue at length, that it IS a good argument
against Christian faith.
I think I’ll just step off that
Merry-Go-Round, let it spin as long as John wants to sit on it, sit under an
elm have a rocky-road ice cream cone, and wait till it stops spinning. It’s all the same to me whether John wants to
use the OTF to attack Christianity or not: let him settle that in his own mind,
without me getting in the way.
Just one more, then we’re
through, at least for this round.
“Egregious Error Three: is
Religious Diversity Complete, or Absolute?”
Here we come to a truly important
issue: how religions or belief systems relate to one another. The problem here is that Loftus and his
fellows have adopted hand-me-down versions of exclusivism, which holds that
only one religion can possibly be true, the others must be simply and solely
wrong. I maintain that reality is more
complicated than that, and that Christian makes room for the genuine complexity
that we find in the world of religions.
Loftus complains:
“A third error of
Marshall’s is that he dismisses my understanding of religious diversity as ‘superficial.’
He opines that this is the ‘most
essential problem with Loftus’ version of the OTF.’ (p. 10). He tries to inform the uninformed that the
diversity of faiths ‘is genuine, but in some ways superficial. As Chesterton noted, religions around the world
commonly included four beliefs: in God, the gods, philosophy, and demons.’ Agreeing, Marshall says, ‘Peel away labels,
and many beliefs seem to be universal or at least widespread.’ Then he concludes, ‘If widespread disagreement
renders a religious tenet less credible, then agreement must render it more
credible. One cannot make the argument,
without implicitly admitting the other as well.’ (p. 18-19)
Now in what follows I aim to hold him to that. Either "widespread disagreement renders a religious tenet less credible" or not. I'll deal with his claim that agreement must render something more credible later, and dispute it depending on the issue to be solved.
Now in what follows I aim to hold him to that. Either "widespread disagreement renders a religious tenet less credible" or not. I'll deal with his claim that agreement must render something more credible later, and dispute it depending on the issue to be solved.
That should be fun, since
atheists invariably use diversity of beliefs to discredit particular
(non-atheistic) religions. (Religions,
in other words, that compete with their own.)
Let’s see if John can find a way to have his cake and eat it.
”Marshall should know there are major disagreements even about these four minimal beliefs.”
Of course. As there are about the nature of the moon,
say.
“Religionists accept
the existence of one Supernatural Being (i.e., one God), or they accept many
Supernatural Beings (gods, goddesses, angels, spirits, ghosts, demons) or they
accept one Supernatural Force (Process theology, Deism) or many Supernatural
Forces (i.e., karma, fate, reincarnation, prayers, incantations, spells, omens,
Voodoo Dolls), or some sort of combination of them. Religionists also disagree with each other
over who these Beings and/or Forces are, how they operate, and for whom they
operate. Everything else is up for
grabs.”
This is a confusion I address in
this book, actually.
As I show, awareness of one God
who is described by a long list of common traits crops up on all six inhabited
continents. This Being tends to be
recognized across cultural boundaries.
This is why here in China, even my Buddhist partner talks frequently
about “Shang Di,” the same word the ancient Chinese, and the Christians down
the road, use for the Supreme Being.
But He was quite distinct from
spirits in general. In China, as in the
West, in India, in Africa, and in the Americas, there were numerous spirits who
were distinct from God in being created or coming into being, in being lustful
and imperfect, even scheming and cruel, in having only local and very partial
knowledge, even in being fated to pass away.
The disagreement is really not that great. Here in China, as in Greece, supernatural
beings are sometimes associated with nature, or with ancestors. There is no hard line between “gods, ghosts,
and ancestors” as a well-known anthropology work described them.
The continuity among cultures on
these two points, along with the idea that some spirits are evil, is quite
impressive. If atheists argue that
disagreement among cultures shows all religions are probably wrong, as Loftus
does, then agreement should push in the opposite direction.
”I’m really at a loss to respond to what Marshall said about me, given what the reader will find quoted on pages 34-36 of my book. I'm tempted to ask if he can even read. Take a look:
”Professor of anthropology David Eller tells us, as I quoted in my book, that
there are many religions in the world, and they are different from each
other in multiple and profound ways. Not
all religions refer to gods, nor do all make morality a central issue, etc. No religion is ‘normal’ or ‘typical’ of all
religions; the truth is in the diversity.”
I didn’t say anything about morality, though of course moral intuitions
are also universal. But awareness of
spirits are in fact pretty nearly universal among cultures. Even “atheistic religions” like Buddhism are
in practice quite aware of them.
“When it comes to belief in
god(s), Eller writes,
“Many or most religions have functioned quite well
without any notions of god(s) at all, and others have mixed god(s) with other
beliefs such that god-beliefs are not the critical parts of the religion. . . .
Some religions that refer to or focus on gods believe them to be all-powerful,
but others do not. Some consider them to be moral agents, and some do not; more
than a few gods are downright immoral. Some
think they are remote, while others think they are close (or both
simultaneously). Some believe that the
gods are immortal and eternal, but others include stories of gods dying and
being born . . . not all gods are creators, nor is creation a central feature
or concern of all religions. . . . Finally, there is not even always a firm
boundary between humans and gods; humans can become gods, and the gods may be
former humans.”
In fact, every major religion and almost every culture of which I am
aware, is keenly aware of spirit beings.
In every culture that I have studied (I do not deny the possibility of
exceptions), there are both helpful and unhelpful spirits, though all may be
dangerous, and most may be manipulable.
That includes all the major traditions.
“Eller continues:
“Ordinarily we think of a religion as a single
homogeneous set of beliefs and practices.”
Who is this “we?” I think no such
thought, and make no such claim. Is
Eller thinking this himself? Or putting
words in “our” mouths?
“The reality is quite otherwise: Within any religion
there is a variety of beliefs and practices—and interpretations of those beliefs
and practices—distributed throughout space and time. Within the so-called world religions this
variety can be extensive and contentious, one or more variations regarded as
"orthodox."
This is the usual scholastic drumbeat of diversity. You can never generalize about anything,
there are always exceptions. That’s how
you get ahead in academia: by pointing to anomalies.
Of course there is diversity. But
what Chesterton said was, and remains, true.
Within that diversity, there are also commonalities. If Loftus is going to use diversities to
attack “religion” (aside from his own), he also needs to take commonalities
into account.
And Chesterton pointed to four -- not absolute universals, but general
apprehensions that transcend any given culture, any given continent.
“Eller concludes that
“…Religion is much more diverse than most people
conceive. . . . “Religion” does not equal “theism” and certainly not
“Christianity,” let alone any particular sect of Christianity. Indeed, there is
no specific religion or type of religion that is really religion, the very
essence or nature of religion. . . . Not only that, there is no central or
essential or uniquely authentic theism but rather an array of theisms . . . .
“Christianity” consists of a collection of Christianities including Catholic,
Orthodox, and Protestant. And there is no central or essential Protestantism:
it is a type of Christianity/monotheism/ theism/religion with many branches. No
one Protestant sect is more Protestant or more religious than any other. . . .
In fact, there is no “real” Christianity at all, only a range of
Christianities.”
Again, no one is claiming that “religion equals theism.” In fact, I would say the atheist religions
are also diverse -- hundreds of schools of Marxism-Leninism, Freudianism,
Objectivism, an array of atheistic forms of environmentalism, feminism, certain
High Church and Hindu and Buddhist schools of thought. If diversity in details undermines the truth
of general statements, then atheism is doomed with the rest of us.
From which it follows that there is no “real” Secular Humanism, only a “range
of Secular Humanisms.” Fine, but what
does that have to do with my argument?
I am not claiming (and also showing) that there is no diversity, I am
claiming there is also often surprising continuity. And that if the diversity means something bad
for the truth of religion, why shouldn’t the continuity mean something good?
“So I do understand the nature of religious diversity. Marshall does not. For instance, there is
nothing when reading Marshall's book where he shows us he understands there are
various Christianities, nothing. As far
as the reader is concerned he’s defending the one and only Christianity, his,
without so much as telling us which one that is. If anyone has a superficial understanding of
religious diversity it is Marshall. Now
I know he knows different. He cannot
help knowing the various denominations and spectrums of theologies among
Christianities. It’s just that when it
comes to calling me superficial it never occurred to him to acknowledge this
fact about Christianity, something I am all too aware about. It's one of the reasons I am not a Christian,
since Christians cannot agree among themselves.”
Here were my claims, again, in case John has forgotten them, though this
is how he cited me:
“Diversity of faiths ‘is genuine, but in
some ways superficial. As Chesterton
noted, religions around the world commonly included four beliefs: in God, the
gods, philosophy, and demons.’ Agreeing,
Marshall says, ‘Peel away labels, and many beliefs seem to be universal
or at least widespread.’”
I admitted diversity was genuine. I
argued, though, that “many beliefs,” including those four, are at least
widespread, in some cases perhaps even universal, in some sense.
Where has that been refuted, again?
By quoting boilerplate comments from David Eller about religious
diversity? I wrote my MA on the True
Buddha movement, examining three rows of idols from India, Tibet, China, and
Israel over thousands of years of religious history with the head of the
Anthropology Department at the University of Washington, nearly 20 years
ago. This is old news.
My book is new news, and John Loftus does not appear to know how to handle
it.
”This is getting too long. Done for now. The best is yet to come.”
One would hope so, but we’ll
see.
3 comments:
You've constructed a cage around yourself made of vacuous arguments and unsound syllogisms. You write about Buddhism, but its central concepts escape your presupposing Christian pseudointellect. Your fonts and font sizes make it difficult to pay attention to your already meandering diatribes. Christianity will die by the time your grandchildren around. It's beautiful to think that Christianity's death rattle is the last thing you'll ever hear before your flesh fertilizes the Earth. You and Jesus can then fertilize the Earth together. Ironic thing is, if he knew you he'd want nothing to do with you. Your grandchildren will solemnly tell tales of their poor deluded grandfather to their own children. As much as they want to mock you, they won't out of respect.
?? You point?
Thanks, Scottie, for that exhibition of Buddhist objectivity and compassion. No arguments, though. Guess we'll get those from you in your next life. Till then.
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