The Lack of Reason for God, Chapter 4
Oct. 8th, 2014 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blimixThis is part of a series examining the the logic of Timothy Keller's book The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism.
Standard disclaimer: This, despite being a public post, is not an invitation for a religion debate with strangers. Been there, done that, still jaded.
Last week: In Chapter 3, we examined restrictions on intellectual freedom.
Chapter 4
In which Christians give Christianity a bad reputation.
(Page numbers are from the hardcover version of the book.)
p. 52. "If, on the other hand, your experience is with nominal Christians (who bear the name but don't practice it) or with self-righteous fanatics..."
"Nominal Christians" is a phrase meant to dismiss concerns over the behavior of some Christians, by pretending that they aren't really Christians, so they don't count. But if they believe in Christianity, they're Christians, regardless of whether they're good, evil, lawful, chaotic, or true neutral. (See the bit about the Nicene Creed in the chapter 3 commentary.) Further, an objection to misbehavior of Christians will never be about people who do not thoroughly incorporate Christianity into their identity and way of life. Nobody cares if John Boehner, Jeffrey Dahmer, or Ivan the Terrible happens to be Christian. (They are/were.) People who harm the reputation of Christianity do so only by explicitly acting as agents of their religion.
pp. 53-54. Keller takes on the idea that Christians have more character flaws and moral failings than non-Christians, and rather than refute it, he justifies it. He claims that Christianity is what flawed people turn to in order to be healed, while people with more strength of character feel no need to convert. He compares Christianity to a hospital, suggesting that both are places where people are better off than they would be outside those places, but are still doing worse than average.
This argument would have some force if the majority of Christians were converts. But they aren't. Furthermore, people may convert to or from any religion as part of a self-improvement strategy. (Indeed, gaining, losing, or changing religion can serve as a powerful "reset" button on one's life, due to the large changes in thought and/or lifestyle that may result. If one's conscience is in dire crisis, then any large change is likely to be for the better.) The hospital analogy breaks down if every place you could be is a (metaphorical) hospital.
p. 53. Keller also notes that we shouldn't expect Christians to be good, using the same reasoning as in chapter 1 (p. 18-19): "Christian theology also speaks of the seriously flawed character of real Christians. A central message of the Bible is that we can only have a relationship with God by sheer grace. Our moral efforts are too feeble and falsely motivated to ever merit salvation."
To be clear about this argument in the current context: Christians don't have to be good. Therefore, to expect them to be good is to hold them to an unfairly high standard. Therefore, we shouldn't complain that Christians aren't good. By that logic, I ought not to complain about anyone at all harming anyone else, unless they subscribe to a moral code that explicitly holds their immortal soul hostage against their behavior. Everyone else gets a free pass. (And again, the view upon which this argument depends, of grace versus works, is only espoused by evangelical Christianity, despite Keller's incorrect claim that "All churches believe this in one form or another".)
p. 54. "Good character is largely attributable to a loving, safe, and stable family and social environment..."
My book club friend notes that our experience does not bear this out. We know good people who do not come from such backgrounds.
pp. 54-56. Keller addresses the idea that religion leads to violence. He cites specific examples of religious violence, almost all of which* are state-sponsored, then cites examples of nonreligious state-sponsored violence. He claims that "... violence has been inspired as much by secularism as by moral absolutism" followed shortly by, "We can only conclude that there is some violent impulse so deeply rooted in the human heart that it expresses itself regardless of what the beliefs of a particular society might be..."
* The two exceptions are attacks by Hindu nationalists (a political movement) and Islamic terrorism. (If Keller is willing to disavow Christianity's responsibility for the actions of "self-righteous fanatics," then in the spirit of fair play, perhaps he could refer to Qutbism, rather than Islam as a whole, as "the soil for much of today's terrorism". In the spirit of fairer play, perhaps he could stop pretending that Islam has some sort of monopoly on religious terrorism.)
Again (as in chapter 3), "secularism" is not a thing. It is a lack of a thing. It is powerless to inspire a tizzy fit, let alone murder.
His conclusion of "some violent impulse" seemingly means "I don't know; shit happens." Let's clarify the root of state-sponsored crimes against humanity: They are the result of governments, and the individuals and corporations that control them, consolidating power and profit at the expense of human lives. Religious morality plays at most a bit part, as it may be invoked in the propaganda used to justify the crimes.
Keller carefully omits, and thus frees himself from having to address, examples of violence inspired by Christianity, and/or committed by Christian organizations. The Vatican, for example, supported Mussolini's war crimes in Ethiopia, laundered concentration camp gold for the Nazis, and demolished and slaughtered the town of Palestrina (thus earning Pope Boniface VIII a reservation in Hell, in Dante's Inferno). Fundamentalist Christianity enjoys a culture of systemic violence against women and children, and the covering up thereof. Children suffer at the hands of priests of all denominations. Need I even bring up homophobia?
pp. 56-57. Keller mentions concerns over Christian fanatics appearing "intolerant and self-righteous". He compares them with Pharisees, who "assume they are right with God because of their moral behavior and right doctrine". He says that because salvation is based on god's grace and Jesus' death rather than on morality, Christians should be humble. Thus, although these fanatics appear to be intensely Christian, their problem is that they are "not Christian enough".
First off, dismissing a large portion of the population as "not Christian enough" does nothing to alleviate concerns about their behavior as Christians. (Could I defend the idea that Americans are not racist simply by dismissing racist Americans as "not American enough"?) This is what Christianity is: A mixed bag that includes some serious whack jobs. Own it.
Second, Keller repeats his mistake from chapter 1: Only the evangelical sects believe that you're saved because you're saved, and good works don't matter. And, not coincidentally, the evangelical sects are where you'll find the fanatics. The demographics run exactly counter to Keller's claim: The people who believe most in salvation by grace alone (who thus "should" be humble) are the arrogant ones with "feelings of superiority toward those who do not share their religiosity".
My book club friend notes that Keller is conflating Christianity and goodness. He says "not Christian enough" when he means "not good enough".
pp. 58-62. Keller asserts that, because Christian morality is based on being considerate of others (contrasted with morality based on pride), criticisms and remedies of Christian crimes can only happen from a standpoint of Christian morality. The solution to Christianity is more Christianity: "What is the answer, then, to the very fair and devastating criticisms of the record of the Christian church? The answer is not to abandon the Christian faith, because that would leave us with neither the standards nor the resources to make correction. Instead we should move to a fuller and deeper grasp of what Christianity is."
I hardly know where to start. Christian morality is based on whatever your priest feels like basing it on. That basis might be the bible, the financial interests of their superiors in the church, compassion, hatred, certain teachings of Jesus, other teachings of Jesus, teachings of Paul, or any combination of these. Even if it were just consideration, Christianity has no monopoly on consideration of others. Even if it did, consideration is not the only possible basis of morality. My point is that Christian crimes can of course be identified and addressed from outside Christianity.
Let me add that giving an organization power and no external oversight is an invitation to massive abuse. Consider, for example, the NSA, or the police force of Ferguson, MO. So you'll understand why I cringe at Keller's idea that Christianity should be accountable to nothing but itself.
p. 63. Keller addresses accusations of the church's support of slavery in the U.S. "The slave trade was so tremendously lucrative that there was enormous incentive within the church to justify it. Many church leaders defended the institution. The battle for self-correction was titanic."
He presents no evidence that the battle over U.S. slavery was, or was a springboard for, a "battle for self-correction" within the church. His footnote at that very comment only notes that some people used religious arguments to support their side. The phrase "self-correction" creates a deceptive pretense that the church is naturally abolitionist by virtue of always being good, and was merely stumbling for a moment in history.
pp. 62-64. Keller asserts that Christians were responsible for opposing slavery in the U.S., implying that Christianity was responsible for ending slavery. This presumably means that Christianity was on the right side of this issue after all.
His implication is absurd. Some Christians favored slavery, and some didn't. This wasn't a religious struggle, just a struggle between people, some of whom happened to be religious. Christianity cannot reasonably claim credit for the good works of activists who happen to be Christian while ignoring the evil works of much of its own clergy. (On the topic of highly influential abolitionists, it is not at all clear that Abraham Lincoln, for example, was Christian. (And his abhorrence for slavery was based on personal observation, not religion.) Though he mentioned Jesus at times, he equivocated whenever directly asked whether he was Christian. Had he been Christian, this would have been pointless, but it makes perfect sense for a non-Christian elected official to avoid the subject. This single most instrumental person is yet another problem with Keller's attempt to credit Christianity with ending U.S. slavery.)
p. 63. "Rodney Stark notes how historians have been desperately trying to figure out why the abolitionists were willing to sacrifice so much to end slavery. He quotes the historian Howard Temperley, who says that the history of abolition is puzzling because most historians believe all political behavior is self-interested."
Eliezer Yudkowsky says, "Your strength as a rationalist is your ability to be more confused by fiction than by reality." In light of progressive activism, the belief that all political behavior is self-interested leads to more confusion than the belief that some people are activists because they are decent human beings with a sense of empathy. The former is thus likely to be fiction. Seriously, who could be aware of the horrors of slavery and not want to see it ended? (A rhetorical question. Obviously, slavers, politicians, and church officials could.) Keller apparently thinks that only Christianity can motivate people to oppose slavery, because otherwise, self-interest will rule. This may relate to Keller's idea that all morality comes from god, and is reminiscent of the "I don't understand it; therefore god did it" mentality.
(Also, some abolitionists were self-interested northern farmers who wanted a level playing field in which to compete economically with southern plantations.)
My book club friend notes that Keller contrasts all previous church- and bible-supported slavery with slavery in the U.S., downplaying the former, as if the latter were the only one worth opposing.
p. 64. Keller cites David L. Chappel, who argues that the civil rights movement was "not a political but primarily a religious and spiritual movement". The case for this is that African American leaders of the movement pursued it more fervently than "white Northern liberals" did. This, in turn, must be because the former were "much more rooted in the Biblical understanding of the sinfulness of the human heart and in the denunciations of injustice that they read in the Hebrew prophets".
There is no evidence presented for racial differences in "Biblical understanding". Here's an alternative hypothesis. The African American leaders of the civil rights movement fought harder for their rights than their white allies did because: A) They were targets of racism because of their skin color. B) They were more aware of the pressing need for change because of point A. (See white privilege.) C) They were the leaders of the movement. (If the leaders aren't the ones who are fighting hard, you need new leaders.)
pp. 64-67. Keller presents a list of claims of Christianity fighting against injustice. Some of these are as tenuous as noting that the religion was two degrees of separation from someone who so fought. Others are merely examples, as before, of good works of Christians, a couple of whom credit their faith in motivating them. Keller goes on to again disclaim the bad works of Christians, while praising the good ones for practicing "true Christianity". None of this makes a case for the moral value of Christianity, nor addresses (beyond dismissing) the criticism of Christianity's support for atrocities.
My book club friend notes that Keller's reaction to criticism of Christianity is consistently, "These are reasons that Christianity doesn't have the problems that you think it has" rather than, "Here are some problems with Christianity; what can we do to fix them?" I would add that people who respond to personal criticism this way tend to behave poorly, and they rob themselves of opportunities for personal growth. Even Keller gives lip service to improvement through criticism: "While the church has inexcusably been party to the oppression of people at times, it is important to realize that the Bible gives us tools for analysis and unflinching critique of religiously supported injustice from within the faith." (p. 60, as part of his argument that the church is, and should, only be criticized on its own terms.) He clearly fails to exercise these supposed tools, as much of this chapter involves flinching away from criticism without properly addressing it.
Regarding important issues (such as slavery) on which Christians have been sharply divided, my book club friend says, "True Christianity inspires only good things; or so we are led to believe. Saying this is rather pointless, however, if 'true Christianity' can only be discerned in retrospect."
Next week: Hell.
The whole series.
Standard disclaimer: This, despite being a public post, is not an invitation for a religion debate with strangers. Been there, done that, still jaded.
Last week: In Chapter 3, we examined restrictions on intellectual freedom.
In which Christians give Christianity a bad reputation.
(Page numbers are from the hardcover version of the book.)
p. 52. "If, on the other hand, your experience is with nominal Christians (who bear the name but don't practice it) or with self-righteous fanatics..."
"Nominal Christians" is a phrase meant to dismiss concerns over the behavior of some Christians, by pretending that they aren't really Christians, so they don't count. But if they believe in Christianity, they're Christians, regardless of whether they're good, evil, lawful, chaotic, or true neutral. (See the bit about the Nicene Creed in the chapter 3 commentary.) Further, an objection to misbehavior of Christians will never be about people who do not thoroughly incorporate Christianity into their identity and way of life. Nobody cares if John Boehner, Jeffrey Dahmer, or Ivan the Terrible happens to be Christian. (They are/were.) People who harm the reputation of Christianity do so only by explicitly acting as agents of their religion.
pp. 53-54. Keller takes on the idea that Christians have more character flaws and moral failings than non-Christians, and rather than refute it, he justifies it. He claims that Christianity is what flawed people turn to in order to be healed, while people with more strength of character feel no need to convert. He compares Christianity to a hospital, suggesting that both are places where people are better off than they would be outside those places, but are still doing worse than average.
This argument would have some force if the majority of Christians were converts. But they aren't. Furthermore, people may convert to or from any religion as part of a self-improvement strategy. (Indeed, gaining, losing, or changing religion can serve as a powerful "reset" button on one's life, due to the large changes in thought and/or lifestyle that may result. If one's conscience is in dire crisis, then any large change is likely to be for the better.) The hospital analogy breaks down if every place you could be is a (metaphorical) hospital.
p. 53. Keller also notes that we shouldn't expect Christians to be good, using the same reasoning as in chapter 1 (p. 18-19): "Christian theology also speaks of the seriously flawed character of real Christians. A central message of the Bible is that we can only have a relationship with God by sheer grace. Our moral efforts are too feeble and falsely motivated to ever merit salvation."
To be clear about this argument in the current context: Christians don't have to be good. Therefore, to expect them to be good is to hold them to an unfairly high standard. Therefore, we shouldn't complain that Christians aren't good. By that logic, I ought not to complain about anyone at all harming anyone else, unless they subscribe to a moral code that explicitly holds their immortal soul hostage against their behavior. Everyone else gets a free pass. (And again, the view upon which this argument depends, of grace versus works, is only espoused by evangelical Christianity, despite Keller's incorrect claim that "All churches believe this in one form or another".)
p. 54. "Good character is largely attributable to a loving, safe, and stable family and social environment..."
My book club friend notes that our experience does not bear this out. We know good people who do not come from such backgrounds.
pp. 54-56. Keller addresses the idea that religion leads to violence. He cites specific examples of religious violence, almost all of which* are state-sponsored, then cites examples of nonreligious state-sponsored violence. He claims that "... violence has been inspired as much by secularism as by moral absolutism" followed shortly by, "We can only conclude that there is some violent impulse so deeply rooted in the human heart that it expresses itself regardless of what the beliefs of a particular society might be..."
* The two exceptions are attacks by Hindu nationalists (a political movement) and Islamic terrorism. (If Keller is willing to disavow Christianity's responsibility for the actions of "self-righteous fanatics," then in the spirit of fair play, perhaps he could refer to Qutbism, rather than Islam as a whole, as "the soil for much of today's terrorism". In the spirit of fairer play, perhaps he could stop pretending that Islam has some sort of monopoly on religious terrorism.)
Again (as in chapter 3), "secularism" is not a thing. It is a lack of a thing. It is powerless to inspire a tizzy fit, let alone murder.
His conclusion of "some violent impulse" seemingly means "I don't know; shit happens." Let's clarify the root of state-sponsored crimes against humanity: They are the result of governments, and the individuals and corporations that control them, consolidating power and profit at the expense of human lives. Religious morality plays at most a bit part, as it may be invoked in the propaganda used to justify the crimes.
Keller carefully omits, and thus frees himself from having to address, examples of violence inspired by Christianity, and/or committed by Christian organizations. The Vatican, for example, supported Mussolini's war crimes in Ethiopia, laundered concentration camp gold for the Nazis, and demolished and slaughtered the town of Palestrina (thus earning Pope Boniface VIII a reservation in Hell, in Dante's Inferno). Fundamentalist Christianity enjoys a culture of systemic violence against women and children, and the covering up thereof. Children suffer at the hands of priests of all denominations. Need I even bring up homophobia?
pp. 56-57. Keller mentions concerns over Christian fanatics appearing "intolerant and self-righteous". He compares them with Pharisees, who "assume they are right with God because of their moral behavior and right doctrine". He says that because salvation is based on god's grace and Jesus' death rather than on morality, Christians should be humble. Thus, although these fanatics appear to be intensely Christian, their problem is that they are "not Christian enough".
First off, dismissing a large portion of the population as "not Christian enough" does nothing to alleviate concerns about their behavior as Christians. (Could I defend the idea that Americans are not racist simply by dismissing racist Americans as "not American enough"?) This is what Christianity is: A mixed bag that includes some serious whack jobs. Own it.
Second, Keller repeats his mistake from chapter 1: Only the evangelical sects believe that you're saved because you're saved, and good works don't matter. And, not coincidentally, the evangelical sects are where you'll find the fanatics. The demographics run exactly counter to Keller's claim: The people who believe most in salvation by grace alone (who thus "should" be humble) are the arrogant ones with "feelings of superiority toward those who do not share their religiosity".
My book club friend notes that Keller is conflating Christianity and goodness. He says "not Christian enough" when he means "not good enough".
pp. 58-62. Keller asserts that, because Christian morality is based on being considerate of others (contrasted with morality based on pride), criticisms and remedies of Christian crimes can only happen from a standpoint of Christian morality. The solution to Christianity is more Christianity: "What is the answer, then, to the very fair and devastating criticisms of the record of the Christian church? The answer is not to abandon the Christian faith, because that would leave us with neither the standards nor the resources to make correction. Instead we should move to a fuller and deeper grasp of what Christianity is."
I hardly know where to start. Christian morality is based on whatever your priest feels like basing it on. That basis might be the bible, the financial interests of their superiors in the church, compassion, hatred, certain teachings of Jesus, other teachings of Jesus, teachings of Paul, or any combination of these. Even if it were just consideration, Christianity has no monopoly on consideration of others. Even if it did, consideration is not the only possible basis of morality. My point is that Christian crimes can of course be identified and addressed from outside Christianity.
Let me add that giving an organization power and no external oversight is an invitation to massive abuse. Consider, for example, the NSA, or the police force of Ferguson, MO. So you'll understand why I cringe at Keller's idea that Christianity should be accountable to nothing but itself.
p. 63. Keller addresses accusations of the church's support of slavery in the U.S. "The slave trade was so tremendously lucrative that there was enormous incentive within the church to justify it. Many church leaders defended the institution. The battle for self-correction was titanic."
He presents no evidence that the battle over U.S. slavery was, or was a springboard for, a "battle for self-correction" within the church. His footnote at that very comment only notes that some people used religious arguments to support their side. The phrase "self-correction" creates a deceptive pretense that the church is naturally abolitionist by virtue of always being good, and was merely stumbling for a moment in history.
pp. 62-64. Keller asserts that Christians were responsible for opposing slavery in the U.S., implying that Christianity was responsible for ending slavery. This presumably means that Christianity was on the right side of this issue after all.
His implication is absurd. Some Christians favored slavery, and some didn't. This wasn't a religious struggle, just a struggle between people, some of whom happened to be religious. Christianity cannot reasonably claim credit for the good works of activists who happen to be Christian while ignoring the evil works of much of its own clergy. (On the topic of highly influential abolitionists, it is not at all clear that Abraham Lincoln, for example, was Christian. (And his abhorrence for slavery was based on personal observation, not religion.) Though he mentioned Jesus at times, he equivocated whenever directly asked whether he was Christian. Had he been Christian, this would have been pointless, but it makes perfect sense for a non-Christian elected official to avoid the subject. This single most instrumental person is yet another problem with Keller's attempt to credit Christianity with ending U.S. slavery.)
p. 63. "Rodney Stark notes how historians have been desperately trying to figure out why the abolitionists were willing to sacrifice so much to end slavery. He quotes the historian Howard Temperley, who says that the history of abolition is puzzling because most historians believe all political behavior is self-interested."
Eliezer Yudkowsky says, "Your strength as a rationalist is your ability to be more confused by fiction than by reality." In light of progressive activism, the belief that all political behavior is self-interested leads to more confusion than the belief that some people are activists because they are decent human beings with a sense of empathy. The former is thus likely to be fiction. Seriously, who could be aware of the horrors of slavery and not want to see it ended? (A rhetorical question. Obviously, slavers, politicians, and church officials could.) Keller apparently thinks that only Christianity can motivate people to oppose slavery, because otherwise, self-interest will rule. This may relate to Keller's idea that all morality comes from god, and is reminiscent of the "I don't understand it; therefore god did it" mentality.
(Also, some abolitionists were self-interested northern farmers who wanted a level playing field in which to compete economically with southern plantations.)
My book club friend notes that Keller contrasts all previous church- and bible-supported slavery with slavery in the U.S., downplaying the former, as if the latter were the only one worth opposing.
p. 64. Keller cites David L. Chappel, who argues that the civil rights movement was "not a political but primarily a religious and spiritual movement". The case for this is that African American leaders of the movement pursued it more fervently than "white Northern liberals" did. This, in turn, must be because the former were "much more rooted in the Biblical understanding of the sinfulness of the human heart and in the denunciations of injustice that they read in the Hebrew prophets".
There is no evidence presented for racial differences in "Biblical understanding". Here's an alternative hypothesis. The African American leaders of the civil rights movement fought harder for their rights than their white allies did because: A) They were targets of racism because of their skin color. B) They were more aware of the pressing need for change because of point A. (See white privilege.) C) They were the leaders of the movement. (If the leaders aren't the ones who are fighting hard, you need new leaders.)
pp. 64-67. Keller presents a list of claims of Christianity fighting against injustice. Some of these are as tenuous as noting that the religion was two degrees of separation from someone who so fought. Others are merely examples, as before, of good works of Christians, a couple of whom credit their faith in motivating them. Keller goes on to again disclaim the bad works of Christians, while praising the good ones for practicing "true Christianity". None of this makes a case for the moral value of Christianity, nor addresses (beyond dismissing) the criticism of Christianity's support for atrocities.
My book club friend notes that Keller's reaction to criticism of Christianity is consistently, "These are reasons that Christianity doesn't have the problems that you think it has" rather than, "Here are some problems with Christianity; what can we do to fix them?" I would add that people who respond to personal criticism this way tend to behave poorly, and they rob themselves of opportunities for personal growth. Even Keller gives lip service to improvement through criticism: "While the church has inexcusably been party to the oppression of people at times, it is important to realize that the Bible gives us tools for analysis and unflinching critique of religiously supported injustice from within the faith." (p. 60, as part of his argument that the church is, and should, only be criticized on its own terms.) He clearly fails to exercise these supposed tools, as much of this chapter involves flinching away from criticism without properly addressing it.
Regarding important issues (such as slavery) on which Christians have been sharply divided, my book club friend says, "True Christianity inspires only good things; or so we are led to believe. Saying this is rather pointless, however, if 'true Christianity' can only be discerned in retrospect."
Next week: Hell.
The whole series.
