K
Kaily
Guest
Hey, I love Peter Kreeft and know he is very orthodox Catholic, but thsi person was trying to discredit him when he read this article about him:
"Peter Kreeft, former Protestant apologist, recent convert to Roman Catholicism, renowned professor of Philosophy at Boston College, and author of more than 40 books, wrote a dreadful book a few years back, oxymoronically titled Ecumenical Jihad (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1996).
The book took the ecumenical rationale behind Protestant-Catholic alliances like “Evangelicals and Catholics Together” to the next logical step. Kreeft claims the only viable solution to what ails modern society is for all the world’s religions to unite.
Kreeft, whom many still regard as an articulate foe of postmodern secular moral relativism, is actually arguing for religious pluralism (which is nothing but a different form of moral relativism). He is convinced that Christians have no hope of winning the “culture war” unless they abandon the exclusivity of the gospel’s claims and forge ecumenical alliances with all the world’s major religions—including Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism.
According to Kreeft, Christians “can and should investigate and learn from the wisdom of other religions” (p. 79). And why not? Kreeft thinks “the Holy Spirit seems to be working in other religions . . … In studying His works, we are not studying something foreign and threatening, we are studying the Spirit and works of God, wherever His breath blows” (p. 83). Kreeft insists that “the very same God we worship in Christ is the God the Jews—and the Muslims—worship” (p. 160). Not only that; he also believes even “truth-seeking” agnostics and atheists may be unknowingly worshiping the true God “under this divine attribute of truth” (p. 161).
Kreeft is convinced that if all the religions of the world do not immediately embrace one another and form an alliance, we will lose the war against secularism. “I think it is very likely that the time will soon come—perhaps it is already here—when the emergency is so great that prudence dictates a moratorium on our polemics against each other and our attempts to convert one another” (p. 38). “There is no need for any competition. There is plenty of truth to go around” (p. 83).
The most talked-about chapter in Kreeft’s book is a chapter titled “What Christians Can Learn from Confucius, Buddha, Muhammad, and Moses.” Here Kreeft chronicles an out-of-body experience (OBE) he claims he had while storm-surfing off Hawaii in the wake of Hurricane Felix. Kreeft says a wave broke over him and he nearly drowned. His mind left his body, and he experienced not heaven, but purgatory (p. 96)—which is what all good Catholic philosophers experience in their OBEs.
Perhaps Kreeft is merely being whimsical. If so, he does not admit it. He tells the story as if it really happened. He even prefaces it with this: “Whether what I experienced was Heaven or earth, I cannot say. Whether it was real or unreal, objective truth or subjective fantasy, I cannot say. All I can say is that it was certainly truer, incomparably truer, than the chapter I was planning to write. That’s why I threw the old one away” (p. 86).
One wonders what kind of drivel must have been in the original draft of the chapter. In any case, if Kreeft’s OBE account is “incomparably truer,” it’s a really good thing he threw the original draft away.
Kreeft’s vision of the afterlife begins “on a Heavenly beach” (p. 86)—which turns out to be only “the outskirts of Heaven, the place you call Purgatory” (p. 96). Here he encounters and converses with Confucius, Buddha, Muhammad, and Moses, all in succession.
Each one of those historic religious figures qualifies for heaven, in Kreeft’s view, because he thinks they all taught moral principles compatible with the teaching of Christ. Whatever may be faulty about their views is simply going to be refined in purgatory. In fact, when Kreeft’s vision of Buddha employs a biblical allusion, Kreeft decides that Buddha must have “had a theological crash course somewhere in Heaven” (p. 92).
But when Kreeft meets Muhammad, the voice of the Lord solemnly tells him, “He will teach you the heart and soul of all true religion” (p. 98).
Kreeft says he was originally dumbfounded by Muhammad’s presence in heaven. But then this exchange took place:
I turned the conversation to another point. “Are you a Christian now or a Muslim?”
He gave what seemed to me an evasive answer: “Why do you say ‘or’? How can one be a Christian without islam to the one God?”
Because I thought his answer evasive, I challenged him more directly. “If you come from Heaven and not from Hell, what do you say to this?” And I whipped out my Rosary and held aloft the crucifix, as I would to Dracula. To my wondering eyes, Muhammad fell to his knees and crossed himself. My response was the only possible one: I bowed the knees of my mind to the words of a man who had bowed his knees to my Lord and His Mother . . … (pp. 99-100).
"Peter Kreeft, former Protestant apologist, recent convert to Roman Catholicism, renowned professor of Philosophy at Boston College, and author of more than 40 books, wrote a dreadful book a few years back, oxymoronically titled Ecumenical Jihad (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1996).
The book took the ecumenical rationale behind Protestant-Catholic alliances like “Evangelicals and Catholics Together” to the next logical step. Kreeft claims the only viable solution to what ails modern society is for all the world’s religions to unite.
Kreeft, whom many still regard as an articulate foe of postmodern secular moral relativism, is actually arguing for religious pluralism (which is nothing but a different form of moral relativism). He is convinced that Christians have no hope of winning the “culture war” unless they abandon the exclusivity of the gospel’s claims and forge ecumenical alliances with all the world’s major religions—including Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism.
According to Kreeft, Christians “can and should investigate and learn from the wisdom of other religions” (p. 79). And why not? Kreeft thinks “the Holy Spirit seems to be working in other religions . . … In studying His works, we are not studying something foreign and threatening, we are studying the Spirit and works of God, wherever His breath blows” (p. 83). Kreeft insists that “the very same God we worship in Christ is the God the Jews—and the Muslims—worship” (p. 160). Not only that; he also believes even “truth-seeking” agnostics and atheists may be unknowingly worshiping the true God “under this divine attribute of truth” (p. 161).
Kreeft is convinced that if all the religions of the world do not immediately embrace one another and form an alliance, we will lose the war against secularism. “I think it is very likely that the time will soon come—perhaps it is already here—when the emergency is so great that prudence dictates a moratorium on our polemics against each other and our attempts to convert one another” (p. 38). “There is no need for any competition. There is plenty of truth to go around” (p. 83).
The most talked-about chapter in Kreeft’s book is a chapter titled “What Christians Can Learn from Confucius, Buddha, Muhammad, and Moses.” Here Kreeft chronicles an out-of-body experience (OBE) he claims he had while storm-surfing off Hawaii in the wake of Hurricane Felix. Kreeft says a wave broke over him and he nearly drowned. His mind left his body, and he experienced not heaven, but purgatory (p. 96)—which is what all good Catholic philosophers experience in their OBEs.
Perhaps Kreeft is merely being whimsical. If so, he does not admit it. He tells the story as if it really happened. He even prefaces it with this: “Whether what I experienced was Heaven or earth, I cannot say. Whether it was real or unreal, objective truth or subjective fantasy, I cannot say. All I can say is that it was certainly truer, incomparably truer, than the chapter I was planning to write. That’s why I threw the old one away” (p. 86).
One wonders what kind of drivel must have been in the original draft of the chapter. In any case, if Kreeft’s OBE account is “incomparably truer,” it’s a really good thing he threw the original draft away.
Kreeft’s vision of the afterlife begins “on a Heavenly beach” (p. 86)—which turns out to be only “the outskirts of Heaven, the place you call Purgatory” (p. 96). Here he encounters and converses with Confucius, Buddha, Muhammad, and Moses, all in succession.
Each one of those historic religious figures qualifies for heaven, in Kreeft’s view, because he thinks they all taught moral principles compatible with the teaching of Christ. Whatever may be faulty about their views is simply going to be refined in purgatory. In fact, when Kreeft’s vision of Buddha employs a biblical allusion, Kreeft decides that Buddha must have “had a theological crash course somewhere in Heaven” (p. 92).
But when Kreeft meets Muhammad, the voice of the Lord solemnly tells him, “He will teach you the heart and soul of all true religion” (p. 98).
Kreeft says he was originally dumbfounded by Muhammad’s presence in heaven. But then this exchange took place:
I turned the conversation to another point. “Are you a Christian now or a Muslim?”
He gave what seemed to me an evasive answer: “Why do you say ‘or’? How can one be a Christian without islam to the one God?”
Because I thought his answer evasive, I challenged him more directly. “If you come from Heaven and not from Hell, what do you say to this?” And I whipped out my Rosary and held aloft the crucifix, as I would to Dracula. To my wondering eyes, Muhammad fell to his knees and crossed himself. My response was the only possible one: I bowed the knees of my mind to the words of a man who had bowed his knees to my Lord and His Mother . . … (pp. 99-100).