I feel the need to clarify a few things. In general — but in this post especially — when I say belief, I refer specifically to the belief that God exists as described in the Bible. When I say believer or saint, I refer specifically to those who have believed and known God, and henceforth accepted the provision of the Gospel: Jesus Christ. Unless in the pre-stated context of Roman Catholicism, when I say the church, I refer to the body of believers and saints spread across the world.
The biblical definition of a believer is one whose spirit has been regenerated by God. Does this mean that any person who utters with their mouth "I believe" is regenerated thusly? Certainly not. Although the church is the body of believers, not every person who attends church believes. In fact, the Bible grimly suggests the opposite, and such is borne out by the testimonies of former Christians everywhere. The difference between being a member of the church and simply attending church is precisely this matter of regeneration. Again, belief refers to something that actually happens to the subject in the spiritual realm. Anything less than this is a mere puffing up of the religious mind.
Image source: tutornext.com
Yesterday we talked about asteroids, and the fact that “there’s no evidence for X” type claims are often made amidst the very evidence being denied. We also discussed the interesting truth that an unjustified claim is not necessarily untrue. Today, let’s continue with another example from science’s history to discuss what counts for evidence, when our beliefs are justified, and the extent to which we can lean on either as an epistemological security blanket. Let’s discuss cathode rays!
I’ve written recently on evidence here, here and here, and one can always visit TWIM’s Epistemology category to dig deeper.
Many atheists—dare I say the majority—operate under the assumed premise that “there’s no evidence for God (and/or the supernatural).” Many wave this around as some sort of trump card, but I opine that such is merely biased opinion masquerading as justification for denial. Like DD, I believe “there’s no evidence for God” is one of the worst arguments floating around (a)theism, and I remain puzzled as to the strange, pseudo-intellectual pretense with which I see that argument waged. Today and tomorrow, I’d like to review two examples from science’s history that I think illustrate the weakness of the “there’s no evidence for God” argument. The larger analogy to (a)theism should be apparent.
In actuality, what the person who utters those words really means is that they’ve not been persuaded by anything hitherto offered as evidence, which is an accurate assessment of the matter. From an atheist, this is also a tautology, because if it’s known that the person who says “there’s no evidence for God” is an atheist, that they’ve not yet been persuaded by any evidence is merely redundant. In rigorous discussion, I believe one would be justified in rejecting the “no evidence for God” argument solely on these grounds (subjectivity, tautology), but I think we have other sound reasons to reject it.
Note that “there’s no evidence for X” is really just a generic argument where X always represents some proposition whose theoretical or ontological possibility is being denied. Yet, show me a true theory today that did not have its skeptics and doubters yesterday. Airplanes, telephones and relativity were all vehemently objected to by skeptics and doubters who now ironically enjoy the benefits of each. Before more optimistic minds made these things happen, many skeptics claimed they’d never happen.
This leads to an interesting question: what does it mean to say that we have evidence for a given proposition? With that in mind, let’s go ahead and take a look at asteroids.
First, some backstory to this admittedly oddly-titled entry: Ebonmuse has a post titled Ten Questions To Ask Your Pastor in which he uses the following rhetorical device:
Why do Christians believe in the soul when neurology has found clear evidence that the sense of identity and personality can be altered by physical changes to the brain? —Ebonmuse, Ten Questions To Ask Your Pastor
My immediate questions were, “What in the Christian concept of the soul suggests that our sense of identity and personality shouldn’t be altered by physical changes to the brain?”
A few months back we introduced what was referred to as the Masoretic-Greek Hypothesis (MGH), the purpose of which was,
..both to avoid the pitfalls of doctrinal quibbling and to cover all the ground DD has missed, [and] finally prove my case that DD's Evidence Against Christianity relates only peripherally to Christianity.
M represents the work of the Masoretes, Jewish scribes and scripture scholars living roughly 3,000 years ago in what today would be Jerusalem, Tiberius or even what we would consider modern-day Iraq (then Babylon, Babylonia). M represents the Hebrew rendition of the Tanakh, and many if not most Protestant and Catholic Bibles sample from M, as does the Septuagint (39 books of the OT + select Apocrypha) from which the New Testament writers sampled. G is the New Testament derived as described.
This way, we arguably start as close to the actual events and oral traditions as possible, then apply our collective powers of reason to ascertain the set of reasonably permissible predictions – thus hopefully avoiding doctrinal pitfalls like DD intended – but with the added bonus of a positive hypothesis we can have the courage to call Christianity.
For newer readers who might not have the full context, many of us were involved in an ongoing discussion at Deacon Duncan's blog, Evangelical Realism. This MGH of mine has a twofold purpose. The first is obviously to function as an adequate response to DD's so-called Evidence Against Christianity, a post-series based on the idea of crafting hypotheses entailing predictions of what the world might look like if either the "Gospel Hypothesis" or the "Myth Hypothesis" were true. I also intend the MGH to stand on its own as a structured set of systematic proofs for theism in general, some version of biblical Christianity in particular. This does not entail the idea that "all other religions are false," because the situation is quite simply more complex than that. Note that we're going to begin by throwing out all presumptions, theologies, dogmas, etc., starting (hopefully) from a shared set of premises eventually building to a crescendo.
So, where do we go from here?
Well. Friday night I went over to my buddy A's house. You might remember A and his house from The Video Game Incident. After the day's small-talk had come to an end, A proceeded to tell me about the latest set of strange occurrences at his house.
I know what I said yesterday about not wanting to bore anybody with my arguments with other bloggers, but lately I’ve been thinking about a concept a few of us came up with several months ago, the concept of power commenters. After Deacon Duncan declined to participate in the debate I invited him to have with me, we had one post where we actually attempted the format, then pretty much set the whole idea on the backburner. Yet, as I did then, I think it’s a valid idea that could function as a sort of “intellectual broom” for the blogosphere, especially if we can find a few more qualified participants.
"Now wait just a minute, cl – atheists don't believe in God(s), so how could you expect them to present the evidence? Isn't that the believer's job?!?!"
If we're talking burden of proof, yes, it does fall on the positive claimant. The whole point of this challenge is to demonstrate the absurdity of the atheist's request in this regard. Many atheists and unbelieving skeptics are fond of hiding behind what I call "the evidence trope," which comes in several forms but always rests upon the assertion of an evidentiary vacuum as its main supporting claim. "There's simply no evidence for God," so goes the trope, while the peculiarity of the ability to even assert such apparently goes unquestioned.
For every reason Kayla Knight's case cannot constitute acceptable proof of a miracle, humans cannot acceptably prove God(s). In order to demonstrate this point, I invite anybody (not just atheists) to present any hypothetical data point they wish. For the sake of argument, I'll grant all data points as true, no questions asked. That's a pretty generous advantage, if you ask me.
So, especially if you are an atheist, feel free to share the evidence that would convince you that any particular God exists – and I'll do my best to show exactly why it shouldn't.
On the observation that changes in brain matter affect changes in thought, particularly reductionist atheists often claim that thought is a mere by-product of matter, but I find it interesting that proceeding by pure thought alone, I can willfully move my arm right now.
Doesn't it follow, then, that thought — i.e. consciousness — also causes matter to move? Or is the decision to move one's arm merely an illusory but incredibly well-timed forethought that somehow preceded the act? Provided we're not too shameless to deny accept the latter absurdity, doesn't the former observation suggest that perhaps thought is more than the mere by-product of matter?
While doing some "fall cleaning" around here, I found today's post in the "drafts" folder.
Although the original exchange occurred over a month ago, and I'm unsure why I'm responding to a guy who banned me from his blog for an unspecified "breach of honesty" while he apparently has no problem calling me names like "mealy-mouthed prick" all over the internet, but dedication to the arguments must overlook the uglier sides of debate. Granted, I know what one or two of you might be thinking: "Ah cl, we hate it when you rehash these 'he said this, I said that' arguments. Why burden us with your own online social difficulties??" It's not that. Rather, I feel there are some cogent rebuttals here on my part, and I thought it would be a waste to just trash the post.
So, let's get to it. Comments welcomed.