Another reason why philosophers are useless

[Charlemagne_II]

Portofino

When you say that you have “no religious affiliation but interested in spirituality” it’s not clear to me how far you are into the spiritual. Do you believe in God? Do you believe in an afterlife?

If you do not believe in either, what would be the main reason?

 

[XndrK]

My opinion is, the statement “philosophers are useless” is, well, a philosophical position.

Therefore, you’re a philosopher, and you just said your own position was useless.

Better emoticon:

 

[Portofino]

That’s a fair question, Charlemagne, however slightly discomforting I may find it to answer. Here’s where I’m coming from, in a nutshell:

—raised in a “moderately” churchgoing Catholic household and attended Catholic school for 12 years of elementary/high school and 4 years of college (a Jesuit university). Up until the age of 14 or so, I myself was a moderately believing Catholic (not pious, by any means, but certainly taking the faith seriously). I did pray at night – talking to God, as it were – not nightly but certainly not infrequently, either, and well into at least mid-adolescence (15 or 16)

–as a 14 year old, an intellectually precocious friend had introduced me to the “Seth” books by trance medium Jane Roberts. This was, to say the least, a very different worldview than the Catholic worldview I grew up in – reincarnation existed; God was referred to as “All That Is”; there was an afterlife and out-of-body experiences were possible, but there was no heaven and hell, per se, rather continuous learning and exploration through successive lives, after which one would then move on to the next “level” of reality. Love was a principle of the universe. Jesus (like Buddha) did indeed have a consciousness that was beyond human, though their understanding of him did not fit traditional Catholic dogma, per se. There was no sin but there were “violations” and the incurring of karmic debts, which would need to be worked out in successive lives.

It didn’t happen overnight, but one belief system was displaced by another; for example, I believed in reincarnation and – insofar as I still believe in an afterlife at all – still do. This conception of things also entertains the notion of a “between lives” interval, a time of “retrospective review” of the life once lived, judgment of what was done well or not so well (ultimately a self-judgment, as there are no “blinders” in the between life interval) and a planning of the next incarnation.

–at 17 or so, I read two books through which I discovered the “skeptic” in me – Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil, and Will Durant’s “The Life of Greece.” I also became at least vaguely interested in Eastern spiritual texts – for example, an early text of Buddhism, and the Tao Te Ching of Lao Tzu. Yet, on account of my encounter with Nietzsche, I think I went through a relatively brief (but intense) period of “full-blown” atheism – nihilism, even – and certainly suffered, on its account. It wasn’t until the age of 20-21 that I rediscovered the Seth books, frankly (it felt like a rebirth, certainly into a more optimistic worldview); after that period, the “full-blown atheism” never returned, at least not in its entirety. Two artists that exemplify the more “optimistic” state of mind that I returned to are Jim Henson (of Muppets fame) and Richard Bach (Jonathan Livingston Seagull). Both, interestingly, were avid readers of the Seth books (Henson, for instance, believed in reincarnation, and you’ll find nods to his worldview in both the Muppet Movie and the Dark Crystal).

In the years since then, I’ve had more of a “dual” approach to these questions – there is the naturalistic skeptic on one hand (who never went away entirely), who considers that right and wrong may be social human constructs, and death may be the end; and there is the unorthodox believer on the other hand, who believes in past lives and in a “higher power” in the universe, though does not believe that any one church one earth is its representative. Even that believer, though, is a skeptic as regards the ability to furnish proof for one’s “intuitions” or “inner experiences”; one’s spiritual “intimations”, if they are one’s native tongue, must nevertheless be translated into the “lingua franca” – the common language – of naturalism, rationalism, and secularism. I may believe in reincarnation, at times, or in a higher power, but I don’t believe I can prove it. Over the years, I’ve kept in touch with a Catholic friend who is still rather “pious”, albeit somewhat adventurous – he had spent some time in Buddhist monasteries, without ever letting go of Catholic orthodoxy – and we correspond frequently. His usual topic of discussion is Catholicism. Partially through his influence, and partially through my own background, I’ve done quite a lot of reading in the gospels, over the years.

In general, it has always been the “heterodox” religious thinkers that have always tended to resonate with me – the free spirits. Akhenaten holds a special place in my mind (he fascinated me); as does Socrates (who, of course, was executed for impiety); Pelagius; Montaigne; Voltaire; Thomas Jefferson (another thinker with a pronouncedly heterodox religious orientation); Sebastian Castellio (a humanist opponent of Calvin); Tolstoy (excommunicated from the Russian Orthodox Church for his Anabaptist-like beliefs, and for his rejection of the supernatural).

In terms of Christian denominations, I’ve done more reading than I ever had before, growing up, on the Unitarians (of whom Jefferson was one), and I also came to admire the humanism of Ulrich Zwingli (the most congenial of Protestant Reformers, one of the first Christians to proclaim that virtuous pagans such as Cicero may have been saved, and that deceased unbaptized infants are probably in heaven). I also came to admire the Anabaptists and their creed of non-violence – so we’re talking about the “Radical Reformation”, as opposed to the “Magisterial Reformation” of Luther and Calvin. Among Christian groups, my “favorites” have been the Unitarians and the Anabaptists (I liked Zwingli, but I believe his German Swiss brand of Protestantism was subsumed under Calvin’s “Reformed Church”). I think I have a bias, these days, in favor of the Protestants, though I’ve certainly learned things about Catholicism in this past year or so (through participation in the forum) that I had never learned, growing up.

 

[Charlemagne_II]

Portofino

Thank you for sharing your faith journey through its various incarnations.

Sounds as though you experimented with so many different philosophies and theologies that you have a lot of thinking yet to do. Glad to see that your journey has led you to Catholic Answers.

Many Christians lost their faith in their teen years. That is the most vulnerable age when authority becomes an issue for every developing ego. I’ve done a study along this line, and found that many world famous atheists revolted against religion in their teen years. My own revolt began in my late teens, when I started reading Bertrand Russell. Though never a rabid atheist, I’ve been radically anti-Catholic.

Then, at about the age of fifty, I began to have second thoughts. As I learned more about Catholicism, especially through the influence of Jacques Maritain and G.K. Chesterton, I began to see the inner logic, and the consistency of logic, in Catholic theology. One night, sitting alone in a darkened room, I listen to Mozart’s “Ave Verum Corpus.” I sensed, right away, that this music was not only beautiful, but that it had to be true, or it could not be so beautiful. I had never heard beautiful atheist music (didn’t even know is such a thing existed). But the aesthetics of Catholicism worked its way into my heart. I immediately repudiated skepticism as a dead and dull avenue for finding truth. As I learned from two great philosophers (Maritain and Chesterton) the opening of the heart is so much more important than the opening of the head. If there is a God, I began to reason, he must have created us to love him and know that he loves us. I saw the greatest expression of a loving God nowhere else but in Christ. We all know how fully he lived the love that he preached.

Yes, I’ve had to struggle with difficult theological problems, and the problem of evil is certainly the greatest of them. But I decided that at last I had to stop judging the Christian God and allow him to work his way with me. I have never regretted that decision. I recently had a near death experience, and turned to God for consolation. I read the Book of Job and put my trust in the Lord. Here I am three months later, alive and kicking for all I’m worth after open heart surgery. Had I not had the Lord to turn to, I don’t know how horrible it would have been to be wheeled into surgery with the prospect of nothingness overwhelming me in a few minutes.

God gave me strength when I needed it. I will never turn my back on him again.

Deo gratias!

I pray that your journey ends well in the arms of the Lord.

 

[polytropos]

But, though I’m aware that proofs adduced for the existence of God are not generally accepted by the majority of philosophers today (which does not mean those philosophers are not wrong), tell me how you get from proofs for existence of God, which you seem to equate with incontrovertible logic (“they are true and cannot coherently be denied”) to all of these other things that are invoked when Christians explain – even to other Christians – the potentially “false problem” of evil.

Would you put the existence of an afterlife; of the devil; of the importance of freedom vis-a-vis one’s eternal fate into the category as that which is not only true but “cannot coherently be denied”? Or is there a dropping off of demonstrability (proofs for the existence of God would be a 10 out of 10, presumably), such that – for example – proving that “Jesus was God”, although not subject to that strong a proof, nonetheless is something that one could argue is “probably true to a high degree of probability.” With the divinity of Christ, one has left more a priori logical proofs and entered a more empirical realm – for example, arguing for the “historical reliability” of the gospel accounts. I’m assuming that means that you would acknowledge that the proofs are not quite as “airtight”, as logically incontrovertible, as proofs for the existence of God.

I’m hoping you will give me candid feedback on what you believe the “dropping off” point is, (where one can only argue for probabilities, not for incontrovertible logic) ; would the virgin birth, for example, also be something “cannot coherently be denied”? Or would that too necessarily rely on an empirical element that, frankly, we do not have direct access to (namely, the empirical or historical circumstances under which Jesus was conceived).

I think I would agree with what Peter Plato has said. The existence of God, the immortality of the soul, and natural law morality are basically what I would consider to fall under the branch of “philosophical theism” and that which can be demonstrated with reason alone. Natural law morality entails that truth is a virtue, and that the attainment of truth is the highest activity of the intellect.

As far as the problem of evil goes, God’s omniscience and omnipotence are knowable through reason, and evil can be apprehended in the world, so I think the problem of evil could be raised as an objection to philosophical theism as much as it could be raised as an objection to Christianity (although Christianity is naturally the larger “target,” since it is a more widely held view), and I think the responses are in principle the same. So without any appeal to Christian revelation, we would know that a good, omniscient, omnipotent God exists (who might be considered loving, since His creation and sustenance of the world is fully generous). I think by referring to Christianity specifically, the quality of “loving” is more conspicuous - Christians claim that God is loving and have various reasons for doing so, while for someone who is “just” a philosophical theist, such knowledge would be based on a logical demonstration.

Moving from philosophical theism to Christianity is where one must rely on revelation. As Peter Plato says, once you have established that the world is constantly held in being by a good, omniscient God, one might consider the major monotheistic religions (the oneness of God is also demonstrable through reason). Belief in the resurrection of Jesus is probabilistic, although I think that the historical evidence for it coupled with the existence of the God of philosophical theism tilts the scale significantly in Christianity’s favor. I would not consider the denial of revelation to be an logical error in the sense that the denial of the God of philosophical theism or natural law morality is a logical error. Assuming that Jesus was resurrected, his ministry acquires credibility and other truths are incorporated into what we know.

Things like the virgin birth would rely somewhat on faith in the resurrection. While there are not historical sources for the virgin birth in the same way that there are for the resurrection, its necessity might be intimated by Jesus’s divinity. But broadly, I would consider doctrines like that to be held primarily on faith.

 

[Portofino]

Portofino

Thank you for sharing your faith journey through its various incarnations.

Sounds as though you experimented with so many different philosophies and theologies that you have a lot of thinking yet to do. Glad to see that your journey has led you to Catholic Answers.

Many Christians lost their faith in their teen years. That is the most vulnerable age when authority becomes an issue for every developing ego. I’ve done a study along this line, and found that many world famous atheists revolted against religion in their teen years. My own revolt began in my late teens, when I started reading Bertrand Russell. Though never a rabid atheist, I’ve been radically anti-Catholic.

Then, at about the age of fifty, I began to have second thoughts. As I learned more about Catholicism, especially through the influence of Jacques Maritain and G.K. Chesterton, I began to see the inner logic, and the consistency of logic, in Catholic theology. One night, sitting alone in a darkened room, I listen to Mozart’s “Ave Verum Corpus.” I sensed, right away, that this music was not only beautiful, but that it had to be true, or it could not be so beautiful. I had never heard beautiful atheist music (didn’t even know is such a thing existed). But the aesthetics of Catholicism worked its way into my heart. I immediately repudiated skepticism as a dead and dull avenue for finding truth. As I learned from two great philosophers (Maritain and Chesterton) the opening of the heart is so much more important than the opening of the head. If there is a God, I began to reason, he must have created us to love him and know that he loves us. I saw the greatest expression of a loving God nowhere else but in Christ. We all know how fully he lived the love that he preached.

Yes, I’ve had to struggle with difficult theological problems, and the problem of evil is certainly the greatest of them. But I decided that at last I had to stop judging the Christian God and allow him to work his way with me. I have never regretted that decision. I recently had a near death experience, and turned to God for consolation. I read the Book of Job and put my trust in the Lord. Here I am three months later, alive and kicking for all I’m worth after open heart surgery. Had I not had the Lord to turn to, I don’t know how horrible it would have been to be wheeled into surgery with the prospect of nothingness overwhelming me in a few minutes.

God gave me strength when I needed it. I will never turn my back on him again.

Deo gratias!

I pray that your journey ends well in the arms of the Lord.

Thank you, Charlemagne, for sharing your own journey One thing you can say about Bertrand Russell is that he wasn’t a great fan of Nietzsche; morally speaking, Russell’s sense of ethics were at least comparatively more Christian (if not in terms of sexuality, then at least in terms of non-violence).

It seems that he and Frederick Copleston had some good, civil debates regarding the existence of God.

I’ve gotten the sense that some Christian philosophers of the early- to mid-20th century, including Catholics, had taken an interest in Nietzsche and viewed him as a heretic, of sorts, who nonetheless had an undeniable religious genius (e.g., Thus Spoke Zarathustra, which was a primary influence on Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet”). Nietzsche’s nickname as a child – given to him by his schoolfellows – was “The Little Minister,” and he came from a household of Protestant pastors (on both sides) where he was fully expected to follow in his pastor father’s (and grandfather’s, and great grandfather’s) footsteps. Years later, it occurred to the locals of Genoa (on account of his mild-manneredness, and knowing nothing of his philosophy) to give him the nickname “Il Santo.” His own rabid anti-Christianity could have been, in a part, a result of his own adolescent rebellion (late adolescent, in his case, as he entered the University of Bonn with the intent to study theology).

I see what you are saying about music that offers a quite persuasive apologetics for Christianity – when I listen to excerpts of Bach’s “Passion of St. Matthew,” I have intimations of that. This music could also be a good opportunity to foster a good ecumenical relationship between Lutherans and Catholics – if something was lost in Luther’s breaking away from the church, something essential of the spirit of Christ must have been preserved, for Bach’s music to have given such pious expression to it.

Regarding beautiful “atheistic” music, I’m thinking of some of the music of Richard Wagner – his prelude to Lohengrin, for example, or his “Siegried Idyll.” Then again, someone who proclaims oneself an atheist is not necessarily an atheist “deep down”; Lohengrin music actually has to do with the story of the Grail (as you may know, Wagner’s eventual conversion to Christianity – after a fashion, at least -- incurred the enmity of the pastor’s son, Nietzsche, who considered it an unpardonable apostasy).

It seems your conversion back to Catholicism was a few things at once – emotional ; intuitive (new insights); in part, intellectual. It seems as if the “whole person” was engaged.

The book of Job – it reminds me of something that Benedict (I think) had expressed maybe a year or two ago, that “complaining to God in sincerity” is not necessarily sacrilege but could, in fact, be a sincere expression of one’s relationship to God. Benedict may have gone too far in that statement – and I don’t have an exact citation in front of me – but that certainly seems to have been the case in the book of Job. Job’s complaints came “from the heart”; he was honest, and God could take it

I am glad to hear that the operation went well; I think I can appreciate that sense of inner peace that comes from “putting yourself in the hands of your maker.”

 

[Portofino]

Postscript to the above (as regards a perceived “underlying piety” in the personality of Nietzsche, that some have remarked upon):

theguardian.com/commentisfree/2012/feb/05/passionate-atheism-me-christianity-nietzsche

 

[Portofino]

I think I would agree with what Peter Plato has said. The existence of God, the immortality of the soul, and natural law morality are basically what I would consider to fall under the branch of “philosophical theism” and that which can be demonstrated with reason alone. Natural law morality entails that truth is a virtue, and that the attainment of truth is the highest activity of the intellect.

As far as the problem of evil goes, God’s omniscience and omnipotence are knowable through reason, and evil can be apprehended in the world, so I think the problem of evil could be raised as an objection to philosophical theism as much as it could be raised as an objection to Christianity (although Christianity is naturally the larger “target,” since it is a more widely held view), and I think the responses are in principle the same. So without any appeal to Christian revelation, we would know that a good, omniscient, omnipotent God exists (who might be considered loving, since His creation and sustenance of the world is fully generous). I think by referring to Christianity specifically, the quality of “loving” is more conspicuous - Christians claim that God is loving and have various reasons for doing so, while for someone who is “just” a philosophical theist, such knowledge would be based on a logical demonstration.

Moving from philosophical theism to Christianity is where one must rely on revelation. As Peter Plato says, once you have established that the world is constantly held in being by a good, omniscient God, one might consider the major monotheistic religions (the oneness of God is also demonstrable through reason). Belief in the resurrection of Jesus is probabilistic, although I think that the historical evidence for it coupled with the existence of the God of philosophical theism tilts the scale significantly in Christianity’s favor. I would not consider the denial of revelation to be an logical error in the sense that the denial of the God of philosophical theism or natural law morality is a logical error. Assuming that Jesus was resurrected, his ministry acquires credibility and other truths are incorporated into what we know.

Things like the virgin birth would rely somewhat on faith in the resurrection. While there are not historical sources for the virgin birth in the same way that there are for the resurrection, its necessity might be intimated by Jesus’s divinity. But broadly, I would consider doctrines like that to be held primarily on faith.

I do appreciate your candor; thank you. Not that I would expect anything less, but I think there’s a fine line in some of these online discussions between a dialogue (reasoning collectively) and a debate (in the apologetics sense of the word); in the latter – just as in a court of law – it would be a breach of etiquette to ask the opposing attorney, “please tell me, what do you see as the due limitations (even, potentially, the weaknesses or the vulnerabilities) in your argument?”

Regarding Deism, or non-Christian theism, versus Christian theism in particular, I read recently that one of Feser’s former atheist interlocutors was convinced by Feser’s arguments sufficiently to convert from atheism…into Deism Feser expressed just a bit of frustration in that. I have to admit that tickles me a bit, like trying to convert someone to Catholicism and ending up “making them” an Episcopalian!

Using some of Aquinas’ arguments in support of non-Christian theism is interesting to me in the sense that Aquinas used some of the arguments of a non-Christian theist (namely, Aristotle), to express his own Christian theistic arguments.

Ironically, the Deist’s position that God doesn’t – in fact, never – intervenes might ironically create a problem of evil in the eyes of a Christian; sure, God gives us free will, but he also provides us with help and guidance! Of course, the Deist could rationalize that God provided the inner guidance of reason, as well as everything we need to sustain ourselves here on earth.
It’s somehow comic in its delivery, but this would be the peculiarly Deist version of the problem of evil, in a sense; the question, “if God loves us, why doesn’t He continue to interact with us? Why doesn’t He send us help and guidance?” And the Deist might respond, “because he respects our freedom” (quite radically, in this case – complete hands-off, * laissez faire*). I don’t think the Christian can accept this as compatible with a loving God – even in principle, notwithstanding the positive evidence they adduce for revelation and for the Incarnation – and I can’t say I can’t say I blame them; there’s this sense of “what’s the point?” Likewise, though, the impulse of those who say to the Christian – including, at times, Christians themselves – “but why doesn’t God intervene more?” is certainly understandable; it tends in the same direction.*

 

[inocente]

Nice talking to you.

Likewise.

 

[inocente]

Perhaps you should doubt that you like it. Maybe you really don’t like it.

But I should doubt that I should take an example.

When tempted, the trick is not to act on the impulse.

This is an appeal to vagueness. In fact, in life something will be either wholly black or white or some other colour, or combination of them, or otherwise have no colour at all. If you doubt that, then you’re going to lose your grip on reality.

Yet many Catholics here argue for something they call either/or thinking.

My problem inocente is that you are attacking philosophy by appealing to doubt as if it were a virtue. Please realize that no one has ever thought to advocate doubt as a virtue and no one has ever included it in a list of the virtues; in fact, it has always and ever carried negative connotations. No one desires doubtfulness.

*The only certainty is that nothing is certain. - Pliny the Elder

The quest for certainty blocks the search for meaning. Uncertainty is the very condition to impel man to unfold his powers. - Erich Fromm

We sail within a vast sphere, ever drifting in uncertainty, driven from end to end. - Pascal

The demand for certainty is one which is natural to man, but is nevertheless an intellectual vice. - Russell *

Etc.

Doubt =/= virtue. You are of course free to doubt that: it’s just not reasonable or even healthy. You are also free to doubt whether or not this is a real conversation between two persons or suspect that perhaps I am a secret agent of the machines that control your body and use you for a living energizer battery trying to prevent you from realizing that this is all a grand fiction.

You must be a great fan of matrix-land, it seems to pop up in every post.

In reality, inocente, you are advocating that we should be be true to our very nature: i.e., we should be reasonable and not doubtful. There is a great difference between being reasonable and being in a constant state of doubt, which latter is actually very dehabilitating. Reasonableness, on the other hand, carries no such negative connotations; being doubtful, however, rightly does. Advocating doubtfulness as if it were a virtue is simply wrong. Rather you should advocate being logical and reasonable. Conseqently it is a wonder that you so rashly lambast philosophy.

This is common to many who say they are fans of philosophy, and why I make the comparison with teenage fans of boy bands. It’s all about your personal tastes. What you deem philosophy is whatever you happen to like and approve of. All other philosophies, all those not to your taste, you call them mad and ridicule them and refuse to entertain even that they are philosophy.

Worth saying that a received view is the exact antithesis of philosophy,

As you are so unwilling to entertain any philosophy other than your own I think we won’t get anywhere by continuing.

 

[Charlemagne_II]

Portofino

** Likewise, though, the impulse of those who say to the Christian – including, at times, Christians themselves – “but why doesn’t God intervene more?” is certainly understandable; it tends in the same direction. **

That’s really the bottom line, isn’t it?

God in his infinite wisdom did intervene about as much as he could with the miracles and the crucifixion of Jesus. That is the big picture. The details God leaves to the Church and to us. We are free to seek his grace (intervention of a different kind) as we combat our temptations to sin, and especially the sin of pride, which is the foundation of all other sins. That miracles are still performed shows that God still intervenes when it suits his purpose. The miracle of the Eucharist is a daily affair everywhere in the world, and for Catholics the grace bestowed through the Eucharist is about as much intervention as they should need to combat Satan and his works.

The rest is up to free will.

 

[1AugustSon7]

The demand for certainty is one which is natural to man, but is nevertheless an intellectual vice. - Russell

LOL! Russell!? This epic genius also claimed that common sense is a prejudice.

Clap. clap. clap.

You must be a great fan of matrix-land, it seems to pop up in every post.

You are the one making Matrix land the plausible reality! Or is it that you don’t like staring in the face of the consequences of your own ideas because it then seen to be so plainly ridiculous?

This is common to many who say they are fans of philosophy, and why I make the comparison with teenage fans of boy bands. It’s all about your personal tastes. What you deem philosophy is whatever you happen to like and approve of.

Really? It is? So based on what criteria do you think Socrates, Aristotle, Augustine, Boethius, Albert the Great, Aquinas, etc., were all philosophers? Perhaps I have a boy band crush? Perhaps mainstream marketing has duped me along with everybody else for taking the aforementioned thinkers as being real philosophers and not phonies? Or perhaps they are only called philosophers by everyone because I happen to really, really like them?

All other philosophies, all those not to your taste, you call them mad and ridicule them and refuse to entertain even that they are philosophy.

You’re right! We should take Sextus Empericus with the utmost seriousness, deliberately suspending our judgement because thinking is just so hard and painful!

As you are so unwilling to entertain any philosophy other than your own I think we won’t get anywhere by continuing.

O but I am entertaining you! I am most patiently entertaining your rashness and ignorance and incoherence as you try to make logic and reason and learning meaningless or vain. Now once you happen actually make a point - and even a broken clock is right twice a day - then you will see that I really am entertaining your collection of whims and fancies, this random spray of wit that you think or seem to hope will eventually hit the desired target.

Or perhaps, Mr. Anderson, you should concentrate your powers and bend this hallucinatory “reality” so as to strike a blow to Agent Smith! Thus by doubt and the suspension of all judgement you shall achieve serenity and peace of mind; and all it will cost you is the use of your brain!

 

[Peter_Plato]

This is common to many who say they are fans of philosophy, and why I make the comparison with teenage fans of boy bands. It’s all about your personal tastes. What you deem philosophy is whatever you happen to like and approve of. All other philosophies, all those not to your taste, you call them mad and ridicule them and refuse to entertain even that they are philosophy.

Speaking of the pot calling the kettle black. It is you who summarily dismiss all philosophies because they are, according to you, lacking anything in terms of reliability and here you are railing on someone for dismissing other philosophies because they are not to his “taste.”

The line “you call them mad and ridicule them and refuse to entertain even that they are philosophy” accurately describes your relentless series of postings against ALL philosophies, yet you attack another poster for doing, in a qualified way, precisely what you do, without any condition or qualification. I called you hypocritical in another thread - not without warrant, it seems.

Worth saying that a received view is the exact antithesis of philosophy,

As you are so unwilling to entertain any philosophy other than your own I think we won’t get anywhere by continuing.

As opposed to someone (yourself) who has demonstrated an unwillingness to "entertain any philosophy” at all, but refuses to call their own view “a philosophy” since that would land you in the same boat as the person you are pointing the finger at above. You cannot be accused of being “unwilling to entertain any philosophy other than your own” because you refuse to call your own a philosophy, thinking that fact alone will serve to get you off the menacing hook with which you are baiting others.

This is patented nonsense, since, just perhaps, the reason the poster refuses to accept other philosophies is precisely because they are not compellingly true, but his just might be. This is simply a manifestation of the principle of non-contradiction. Try it sometime, it might solve some of your issues with philosophy!

 

[Charlemagne_II]

“Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life.” Immanuel Kant

 

[polytropos]

I do appreciate your candor; thank you. Not that I would expect anything less, but I think there’s a fine line in some of these online discussions between a dialogue (reasoning collectively) and a debate (in the apologetics sense of the word); in the latter – just as in a court of law – it would be a breach of etiquette to ask the opposing attorney, “please tell me, what do you see as the due limitations (even, potentially, the weaknesses or the vulnerabilities) in your argument?”

No problem. You expressed earlier (on this topic or elsewhere) that you found the idea that Catholicism could be “proven” incontrovertibly a bit strange, and I suppose I would agree with you, in that every aspect of it is not proven incontrovertibly, and so faith still plays a very important role. I think Catholicism strikes a good middle ground between incontrovertible (like a math textbook) and fideistic (which is vulnerable to evidentialism - why should we think there is a God if there is no way to know it?).

Regarding Deism, or non-Christian theism, versus Christian theism in particular, I read recently that one of Feser’s former atheist interlocutors was convinced by Feser’s arguments sufficiently to convert from atheism…into Deism Feser expressed just a bit of frustration in that. I have to admit that tickles me a bit, like trying to convert someone to Catholicism and ending up “making them” an Episcopalian!

Using some of Aquinas’ arguments in support of non-Christian theism is interesting to me in the sense that Aquinas used some of the arguments of a non-Christian theist (namely, Aristotle), to express his own Christian theistic arguments.

Ironically, the Deist’s position that God doesn’t – in fact, never – intervenes might ironically create a problem of evil in the eyes of a Christian; sure, God gives us free will, but he also provides us with help and guidance! Of course, the Deist could rationalize that God provided the inner guidance of reason, as well as everything we need to sustain ourselves here on earth.

I could see that happening, although (naturally) I would disagree with it. The philosophical theist still must explain Jesus’s resurrection, and most materialist historians reject it on the basis of philosophical difference rather than evidence (since no credible historian, including atheists, denies that Jesus’s tomb was found empty, and it is implausible that his body would have been, for instance, removed by his followers). The Aristotelian theist, on the other hand, believes in a God who is omnipotent and who (because he is intelligent and good) might have good reason to reveal Himself to the one species He made intelligent also, so the claim that it is simply impossible is not as available. That said, the event still could only be understood probabilistically.

(As a side note, I’d favor the term “philosophical theism” to “Deism” since Deism tends to connote, though not exclusively, a “clockmaker god” who sets up the world and lets it go, whereas the philosophical theism of Aristotle leads to a God who holds the world in being at every instant. Deism, also, is often associated with empiricist philosophy, and what can be known about the deity is generally pretty limited, while Aristotelian theism asserts that much more can be known.)

 

[Portofino]

I could see that happening, although (naturally) I would disagree with it. The philosophical theist still must explain Jesus’s resurrection, and most materialist historians reject it on the basis of philosophical difference rather than evidence (since no credible historian, including atheists, denies that Jesus’s tomb was found empty, and it is implausible that his body would have been, for instance, removed by his followers). The Aristotelian theist, on the other hand, believes in a God who is omnipotent and who (because he is intelligent and good) might have good reason to reveal Himself to the one species He made intelligent also, so the claim that it is simply impossible is not as available. That said, the event still could only be understood probabilistically.

What interests me is how what I would call psychological arguments become so much of a factor in arguing for such things as relying on the veracity of the evangelists, for example, or the veracity of the earliest followers of Jesus. It cannot be otherwise, since we’re dealing with the testimony of human beings; and, of course, these arguments based on psychology and motivation are not an exact science.

For example, it’s argued that instances in the Bible where you see Peter and Paul arguing, or showing disunity, can be believed to be accurate with a reasonable degree of certainty, because revealing such things would have risked making the early Christians looked bad (airing dirty laundry). So the argument becomes – a psychological argument – why would they fabricate something that would risk showing them in an unflattering light? Why would they portray in-fighting and disunity? This speaks well not only of this particular detail, but of their veracity in general.

That is not to say that there are psychological arguments that cannot be made that would cast reasonable doubt on the reliability of some of the accounts, including regarding the resurrection. One question that could be raised – though it’s not a psychological argument, per se – is why the earliest historical Gospel (Mark) concludes with the empty tomb, while subsequent accounts progressive add to the story (even though Mark appears to have been written some decades after the very events related in the post-Mark gospels would have taken place). Another one, this one a psychological argument, reminds me of something I noted when my grandmother had died, some years ago – for several months, even several years, I had a recurring dream that she didn’t really die; there was some misunderstanding. A part of me could not accept it, was in denial. This is not dissimilar to those who say, whether speaking of a lost pet or a loved one, “I’m still waiting for them to come through that door.” That occurred when I was asleep, dreaming; but it seemed as if a part of me still did not accept that it did actually happen.

So we’re talking about, by reasonable standards, great psychological vulnerability when someone you love or admire dies, particularly when that death was unexpected or particularly haunting (much suffering before death, for example, as the crucifixion of Jesus certainly was). Then there is the fact that the figure in question was indeed larger than life, and we tend to ascribe qualities of near immortality to those larger than life. Michael Jackson, dead? Impossible, because the spirit he contained was so powerful, had such a seemingly god-like force.It was difficult for many to believe. When Louis XIV – the Sun King – died, someone had commented, “having seen this, I can now believe anything.” I confess to having felt the same way when Marlon Brando died; when it is a person whose personality is larger-than-life in that way, there is often even more incredulity. The psychology of Elvis sightings would make another interesting study. How can you accept the unacceptable? Shock, incredulity – “I still can’t believe he’s gone. It can’t be. You can’t kill him!”

On the other hand, I see the point you are making about the empty tomb. There is surprise – confusion. A more suspect version of the story would have been to go to the tomb and to see him simply standing there. You presumably wouldn’t want – again, the inescapable appeal to psychology and motivation – to risk planting seeds of doubt in your reader, by admitting, “the tomb was empty, and we didn’t know what happened.”

I know that some individuals take a middle ground and say that something happened at the tomb; what it is, we now not. That’s something

Also, although I realize that it can be insulting to say of the evangelists, “they lived in an ignorant time; what do they know?” there is certainly the possibility that they did not well understand certain phenomenon – for example, what we now call paranoid schizophrenia or manic depression, even epilepsy. Not knowing anything about biochemistry, for example, a paranoid schizophrenic clearly would seem to be possessed by some devil and someone having an epileptic seizure would be perceived as having a demon in them at that very moment. Some of these more liberal interpretations of Jesus consider that he himself may have *known * that many of these individuals were what we would call mentally ill; however, it would have served little purpose to try to explain that to onlookers. Instead, he worked with their beliefs.

 

[Portofino]

p.s. Regarding psychology, would there have been the psychological risk of wanting to use hyperbole in certain exploit of Jesus, in order to better impress those who had never actually met him? Surely, that would be a reasonable temptation, especially since it would be so hard to convey the force of the personality of Jesus, of what it was like to be in his presence, to those who had never met him (they’re already at a disadvantage; how could you convey it?) Again, I’m simply speaking in terms of this being a reasonable temptation for someone who wanted to convince his audience --a Jewish audience, in particular – that this man should not be underestimated, that you just have “no idea what it was like to be in his presence.” If I were to tell someone of something that impressed me in someone, and they remained unimpressed (because they’re just hearing about it, they weren’t actually there), I admittedly would be tempted to start using stronger and stronger terms to describe it – hyperbole, even – calling it great just to be able to convince them that it was really, really good. Or if a Jewish interlocuter had said, “well, he can’t be the Messiah, because he’s not from the house of David…” it would surely be a reasonable temptation to show that he was, genealogically, a direct descendant of King David, not because Jesus wasn’t the Messiah but because my interlocuter has set this up as the only condition under which he’ll believe it. It’s as if to say, “their insistence on a genealogy is a misunderstanding on their part, but I’ll indulge it.” If that what it takes for them to drop their prejudice against it, and accept something that is actually true, then I’ll give them what they say they need.

 

[Charlemagne_II]

Portofino
**
One question that could be raised – though it’s not a psychological argument, per se – is why the earliest historical Gospel (Mark) concludes with the empty tomb, while subsequent accounts progressive add to the story (even though Mark appears to have been written some decades after the very events related in the post-Mark gospels would have taken place). **

All four gospels refer to the resurrection of Jesus. Even the short version of Mark 16.

The inevitable conclusion you want to suggest is that the gospels are fraudulent because miracles are impossible. But with God all things are possible. Even the Creation was the first miracle.

 

[anthony022071]

What interests me is how what I would call psychological arguments become so much of a factor in arguing for such things as relying on the veracity of the evangelists, for example, or the veracity of the earliest followers of Jesus. It cannot be otherwise, since we’re dealing with the testimony of human beings; and, of course, these arguments based on psychology and motivation are not an exact science.

It was only in the 20th century that psychological arguments began to be used.

For example, it’s argued that instances in the Bible where you see Peter and Paul arguing, or showing disunity, can be believed to be accurate with a reasonable degree of certainty, because revealing such things would have risked making the early Christians looked bad (airing dirty laundry). So the argument becomes – a psychological argument – why would they fabricate something that would risk showing them in an unflattering light? Why would they portray in-fighting and disunity? This speaks well not only of this particular detail, but of their veracity in general.

Their is no record of an argument between Peter and Paul,and they were not disunited. All that happened was that Paul once accused Peter of hypocricy for eating separately with Jewish Christians.

That is not to say that there are psychological arguments that cannot be made that would cast reasonable doubt on the reliability of some of the accounts, including regarding the resurrection. One question that could be raised – though it’s not a psychological argument, per se – is why the earliest historical Gospel (Mark) concludes with the empty tomb, while subsequent accounts progressive add to the story (even though Mark appears to have been written some decades after the very events related in the post-Mark gospels would have taken place).

Not all the copies of the Gospel of Mark conclude with the shorter version.

 

[anthony022071]

On the other hand, I see the point you are making about the empty tomb. There is surprise – confusion. A more suspect version of the story would have been to go to the tomb and to see him simply standing there. You presumably wouldn’t want – again, the inescapable appeal to psychology and motivation – to risk planting seeds of doubt in your reader, by admitting, “the tomb was empty, and we didn’t know what happened.”

I know that some individuals take a middle ground and say that something happened at the tomb; what it is, we now not.

The gospel of Mark says that an angel was standing there,and that the angel said “He is risen”. Does that make it less suspect to doubters than if it said Jesus was standing there?

Also, although I realize that it can be insulting to say of the evangelists, “they lived in an ignorant time; what do they know?” there is certainly the possibility that they did not well understand certain phenomenon – for example, what we now call paranoid schizophrenia or manic depression, even epilepsy. Not knowing anything about biochemistry, for example, a paranoid schizophrenic clearly would seem to be possessed by some devil and someone having an epileptic seizure would be perceived as having a demon in them at that very moment.

But knowledge of biochemistry does not itself exclude the perception of demonic possession. Naturalism excludes it. Modern psychology is naturalistic. It assumes that only natural causes exist in the brain. That’s why mental disorders are always explained solely with natural causes alone. But prior to the 1700’s people rightly considered the mind to be a spiritual thing,not the brain itself or its nerves or “mechanisms”. The naturalistic and mechanistic view of phenomena is not an enlightened view. It is ignorance of supernatural realities. The discovery of natural causes and processes that were not known before is not a justification for thinking that all phenomena can be properly explained with them alone.

As for manic depression and epilepsy,they are effects of original sin.

Some of these more liberal interpretations of Jesus consider that he himself may have *known * that many of these individuals were what we would call mentally ill; however, it would have served little purpose to try to explain that to onlookers. Instead, he worked with their beliefs.

Mental illness and demonic possession are not exclusive of each other. If someone has a demon,it may be manifested as mental illness.