Dr. Michael Shermer, publisher of Skeptic, doesn't understand Christianity or theology. He writes in an article at the Scientific American's website that conservative Christians should accept Darwinism because of how well it meshes with our beliefs - but how can he argue that if he doesn't first understand them?
He makes this appeal (through six arguments) without once commenting on the Bible. He mentions, at one point, in an off hand way and with a condescending tone "ancient texts" as being left behind by the abilities of science. Unfortunately, one cannot know God very clearly (certainly not at all to the degree Christianity claims) without divine special revelation - and he's thrown that out the window.
Let's look at his arguments:
"1. Evolution fits well with good theology."
First, he argues in this section that God's glory isn't contingent on the age of the world - creation is creation no matter when. I'll concede this point easily - it absolutely does not matter when God created the world in respect to God's glory. It doesn't follow, though, that evolution is true. Nor does it follow that the world is that old. The issue here is what the Creator communicated regarding the world's age in his ancient text. Personally, I agree that the world is probably very old.
Second, he argues that it doesn't matter how God created the world. Au contraire, it matters very much how God created the world. Theologians have wondered for millenia about the wonders of God's ex nihilo creation of the cosmos. It is a remarkable and powerful demonstration of his power and glory (a power that only he possesses). Theologians are bound to wonder because they're bound to glory in the smallest details of their ancient texts. In those texts they find the mysteries of all reality - not just the physical realm.
"2. Creationism is bad theology."
This argument all centers around the opinion that using the analogy "Watchmaker" is a bad analogy because the transcendentness of God shouldn't be limited to this extent. This surprises me as amazingly poor thinking. No Christians that use the analogy mean that God has, as Shermer states, "a garage tinkerer piecing together life out of available parts." A watchmaker is only a kind of artisan, but Christians believe in creation from nothing. They view the analogy as revealing an irreducible complexity to the natural world that physical causation can't explain. That's all. It doesn't extend further.
"3. Evolution explains original sin and the Christian model of human nature."
This is such a strange argument - it just hammers home that he doesn't understand our fixation with ancient texts. We already know how human nature came to be corrupted, we don't need a scientific explanation. To a conservative Christian, he's not arguing that we should just see how Christianity and Darwin are harmonious; he's trying to convert us.
"4. Evolution explains family values."
Christians have tried hard throughout history to understand ethics in relation to God's nature and plan. As Christians, we have to do that. It's all based on a myth that this author doesn't share - and I don't feel like my myth has room for his. Our stories just don't mesh. Check out this: "Subsequently, religions designed moral codes based on our evolved moral natures." Doesn't this presuppose that the designed moral codes are incorrect?
I'll skip 5 because it's just more of the same.
"
6. Evolution explains conservative free-market economics."
Who cares? This isn't what Christians are concerned about at all! Besides,isn't this Social Darwinism? Didn't that get tossed a hundred years ago?
What's going on?
I can't believe this article got put up on ALDaily.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Begger for the Bottle
I'm entertaining myself at lunch today by going through Nichomachean Ethics again (which happens to be in my cubicle) and I'm puzzled by one of his arguments. I'll put it here to see if anybody else can help sort it out.
Ok... so, this is not very far into the book. I've gotten stumped quickly. He's been enquiring into the nature of the good - which is that which we desire for its own sake, in this life, as opposed to something that we desire for the sake of something else. This is at 1.441 (1), and he's attempting to dismiss the idea that the good is an Idea or Form.
In 1.441 the title is Objections to the Form as a Universal (is this Aristotle's title?).
(1) There are no universals for ordered series.
Now, I take this to be setting up his argument. Things that are series don't have Forms - it is a collection of forms, and is a composite. The reason that people would argue this (at this point in time) is that simplicity is an essential element of what makes a Form a Form.
Ok, so it looks like what he's going to argue is that there's a category of things that cannot include Forms, and that the good is part of this category, and is therefore a Form. Let's see where he goes from here:
Now, it seems to me that at this point I'm misunderstanding something. Probably, he is not seeing the problem in the terms that I was predicting. He seems to be seeing the problem in terms of substance and relation. But, what does he mean when he says that the good is both a substance and a relation?
It seems to me that when we speak of something as a what-it-is, we're referring it to as a subject. This sentence: "the good is the end of an activity" seems to refer to the good as a substance. But, sometimes, he points out that we use "good" as an adjective. This is a good pie - it's more excellent than other pies. This is a relation, because it's comparing two pies - good pies and bad pies.
Let's continue on and see if this analysis bears out:
What exactly is happening here? Is the first half of this quote saying that the good, but virtue of being a quality and relative, is sometimes prior to something else? And that would make it a series, of which there is no Idea.
That would follow, but I'm not sure that the relation of substance and relative is the same kind of relation that obtains between numbers in a series. I guess the way to find out if this is true might be an analysis of what a series is, but lunch is only so long.
This has been a helpful blog post for me. If you've got any ideas that I'm missing, you can go ahead and leave them here.
Ok... so, this is not very far into the book. I've gotten stumped quickly. He's been enquiring into the nature of the good - which is that which we desire for its own sake, in this life, as opposed to something that we desire for the sake of something else. This is at 1.441 (1), and he's attempting to dismiss the idea that the good is an Idea or Form.
In 1.441 the title is Objections to the Form as a Universal (is this Aristotle's title?).
(1) There are no universals for ordered series.
Those who introduced this view did not mean to produce an Idea for any [series] in which they spoke of prior and posterior [members]; that was why they did not mean to establish an Idea [of number] for [the series of] numbres.
Now, I take this to be setting up his argument. Things that are series don't have Forms - it is a collection of forms, and is a composite. The reason that people would argue this (at this point in time) is that simplicity is an essential element of what makes a Form a Form.
Ok, so it looks like what he's going to argue is that there's a category of things that cannot include Forms, and that the good is part of this category, and is therefore a Form. Let's see where he goes from here:
But the good is spoken of both in the [category of] what-it-is [i.e. substance], and in [the categories of] quality and relative
Now, it seems to me that at this point I'm misunderstanding something. Probably, he is not seeing the problem in the terms that I was predicting. He seems to be seeing the problem in terms of substance and relation. But, what does he mean when he says that the good is both a substance and a relation?
It seems to me that when we speak of something as a what-it-is, we're referring it to as a subject. This sentence: "the good is the end of an activity" seems to refer to the good as a substance. But, sometimes, he points out that we use "good" as an adjective. This is a good pie - it's more excellent than other pies. This is a relation, because it's comparing two pies - good pies and bad pies.
Let's continue on and see if this analysis bears out:
and what is is in itself, i.e. substance, is by nature prior to what is relative, since a relative would seem to be an appendage and coincdient of being. And so there is no common Idea over these.
What exactly is happening here? Is the first half of this quote saying that the good, but virtue of being a quality and relative, is sometimes prior to something else? And that would make it a series, of which there is no Idea.
That would follow, but I'm not sure that the relation of substance and relative is the same kind of relation that obtains between numbers in a series. I guess the way to find out if this is true might be an analysis of what a series is, but lunch is only so long.
This has been a helpful blog post for me. If you've got any ideas that I'm missing, you can go ahead and leave them here.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
ITLAPD
INTERNATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY
September 19th only comes once every year.
Make yer best of it whilst ye can, savvy?
Arr!
September 19th only comes once every year.
Make yer best of it whilst ye can, savvy?
Arr!
Monday, September 11, 2006
Something Different
Cool Stuff
This link will take you to the art of a fellow named Peter Callesen. Neat stuff, mostly about childhood, so he uses forms that really resonate. I especially like the castles (floating and cardboard), and the paper cut work. Wow!
Hat tip to Eric.
This link will take you to the art of a fellow named Peter Callesen. Neat stuff, mostly about childhood, so he uses forms that really resonate. I especially like the castles (floating and cardboard), and the paper cut work. Wow!
Hat tip to Eric.
Five Years
Remembering 9/11 is something like drinking concentrated sorrow. Although the memories flicker in my mind, their effect is felt in my stomach. Its my gut, not my brain, that hurts when I recall it.
I was in my first month of college. I was still getting to know people, and though surrounded by acquaintances, had no real friends. Perhaps that's why its not really surprising that the most vivid memories are of moments spent with other people, all of us struggling in the same way to understand the terrior wreaked upon our country. I spent the whole day in company of others. My suitemates had their TV on all day. I remember attending two classes. One was at 7:30 in the morning. As I walked into class, the second World Trade Center came crashing down above the heads of its occupants and those attempting to rescue the people crashed inside. I had no idea.
I remember first hearing about it in class in vague ways. People were upset, but I don't think anybody in my class really understood what was happening. Nobody knew the tower's had collapsed. I heard that the Pentagon had also been attacked. That felt like war, not blind empty terror, but like something out of a Tom Clancy novel.
On my way back from class and breakfast, I remember hugging someone from my floor who was on his way somewhere else. I remember running to my room to find my roommate still asleep. I remember sitting for hours on a couch in the room next to mine watching news broadcasts that had absolutely no information at all, just images. Again and again I watched the towers fall and airplanes fall into them. I saw the Pentagon burning, and I looked outside where there were no airplanes heading to Los Angeles anymore. I remember the eerie sky's quiet expanses being filled once more, in a few days with planes I just couln't trust anymore.
I remember being angry, but I wasn't as angry as I was sad. I'm still sadder than angry. Someone I was watching TV with said now he understood why you kill. He understood that part in Saving Private Ryan where the soldiers wanted to kill the German for working the machine gun that ended their medic's life. There was an awful lot of hate for the people that did it swirling around even our little Christian campus. Of course, I was in a guy's dorm. I think we all felt betrayed by our own helplessness to do anything.
I remember my friends signing up for the armed forces, and I remember the day the bombs started dropping on Afghanistan. I was on my way to church.
I wonder what I will remember in 10 years, about the 5 years yet to come.
Kyrie Eleison
I was in my first month of college. I was still getting to know people, and though surrounded by acquaintances, had no real friends. Perhaps that's why its not really surprising that the most vivid memories are of moments spent with other people, all of us struggling in the same way to understand the terrior wreaked upon our country. I spent the whole day in company of others. My suitemates had their TV on all day. I remember attending two classes. One was at 7:30 in the morning. As I walked into class, the second World Trade Center came crashing down above the heads of its occupants and those attempting to rescue the people crashed inside. I had no idea.
I remember first hearing about it in class in vague ways. People were upset, but I don't think anybody in my class really understood what was happening. Nobody knew the tower's had collapsed. I heard that the Pentagon had also been attacked. That felt like war, not blind empty terror, but like something out of a Tom Clancy novel.
On my way back from class and breakfast, I remember hugging someone from my floor who was on his way somewhere else. I remember running to my room to find my roommate still asleep. I remember sitting for hours on a couch in the room next to mine watching news broadcasts that had absolutely no information at all, just images. Again and again I watched the towers fall and airplanes fall into them. I saw the Pentagon burning, and I looked outside where there were no airplanes heading to Los Angeles anymore. I remember the eerie sky's quiet expanses being filled once more, in a few days with planes I just couln't trust anymore.
I remember being angry, but I wasn't as angry as I was sad. I'm still sadder than angry. Someone I was watching TV with said now he understood why you kill. He understood that part in Saving Private Ryan where the soldiers wanted to kill the German for working the machine gun that ended their medic's life. There was an awful lot of hate for the people that did it swirling around even our little Christian campus. Of course, I was in a guy's dorm. I think we all felt betrayed by our own helplessness to do anything.
I remember my friends signing up for the armed forces, and I remember the day the bombs started dropping on Afghanistan. I was on my way to church.
I wonder what I will remember in 10 years, about the 5 years yet to come.
Kyrie Eleison
Friday, September 01, 2006
We Like Books
This summer has provided ample evidence of our literary love. Libby and I have always read together, though not so much this summer as before. We've also been reading a lot indvidually. Some comments on our pleasures:
1. James Herriot
Libby read all of his books for the first time this summer, and found them very enjoyable. I am pleased, as they are some of my favorite light reading from my childhood. I can never read these books too many times, and I think Libby feels the same way. He has a way of finding the good and humorous in every situation.
2. Harry Potter
Libby began this series for the first time, and I've been doing my first re-read in her wake. I bought her all the first five books for her birthday, and I already had the sixth from last July. I'm really looking forward to her finishing that one, so we can talk about it. I'm not convinced their great literature, but they sure are fun. Great, interesting characters, good plots, and a strong moral system (sometimes interesting and challenging) make these books hard to put down. I am bursting for the seventh.
3. Jane Austen
I finished up her corpus this summer. My favorite is Pride and Prejudice, with Emma runner up. The rest are very, very good. Northanger Abbey provided unique Austen entertainment. Libby and I listened to that one on our way to and from the cabin in July. She also listened to Persuasion on her way to and from work, while I read it at home. Back to Northanger Abbey: funny! Great humor, but her characters were inconsistent. There is definite development in the later novels. Persuasion was similarly a bit set apart. First, it was shorter. Second, its plot arc was totally different - perhaps more mature, but I missed some of the vitality. Mansfield will probably be dull for all but those who love Austen.
Of course, much more can be said about each work. I will re-read them many, many times.
4. Cowboys
I read a bunch of Louis L'amour and a few Zane Grey (off the internet) books. They were fun, light, and quick. They're not really very good, though.
5. Hemmingway
Libby also listened to a Hemmingway novel on tape during her commutes. I don't recall the title. Farewell to Arms? I have never read it.
Currently:
Libby is working her way through the fourth Potter. She's got a lot on her plate for awhile, so that might be delayed. You know, she has a class to prepare for and run. I'm currently working through Moby Dick and Jane Eyre. Both are entertaining - I have my reservations about Jane Eyre, but it seems very good.
Perhaps more later if the muse strikes.
1. James Herriot
Libby read all of his books for the first time this summer, and found them very enjoyable. I am pleased, as they are some of my favorite light reading from my childhood. I can never read these books too many times, and I think Libby feels the same way. He has a way of finding the good and humorous in every situation.
2. Harry Potter
Libby began this series for the first time, and I've been doing my first re-read in her wake. I bought her all the first five books for her birthday, and I already had the sixth from last July. I'm really looking forward to her finishing that one, so we can talk about it. I'm not convinced their great literature, but they sure are fun. Great, interesting characters, good plots, and a strong moral system (sometimes interesting and challenging) make these books hard to put down. I am bursting for the seventh.
3. Jane Austen
I finished up her corpus this summer. My favorite is Pride and Prejudice, with Emma runner up. The rest are very, very good. Northanger Abbey provided unique Austen entertainment. Libby and I listened to that one on our way to and from the cabin in July. She also listened to Persuasion on her way to and from work, while I read it at home. Back to Northanger Abbey: funny! Great humor, but her characters were inconsistent. There is definite development in the later novels. Persuasion was similarly a bit set apart. First, it was shorter. Second, its plot arc was totally different - perhaps more mature, but I missed some of the vitality. Mansfield will probably be dull for all but those who love Austen.
Of course, much more can be said about each work. I will re-read them many, many times.
4. Cowboys
I read a bunch of Louis L'amour and a few Zane Grey (off the internet) books. They were fun, light, and quick. They're not really very good, though.
5. Hemmingway
Libby also listened to a Hemmingway novel on tape during her commutes. I don't recall the title. Farewell to Arms? I have never read it.
Currently:
Libby is working her way through the fourth Potter. She's got a lot on her plate for awhile, so that might be delayed. You know, she has a class to prepare for and run. I'm currently working through Moby Dick and Jane Eyre. Both are entertaining - I have my reservations about Jane Eyre, but it seems very good.
Perhaps more later if the muse strikes.
For God and Country
Here is a good article for reference on secular journalist's opinions regarding religion and politics in America:
Time's Article - God or Country?
I think most Evangelicals will be surprised to hear that people expect us to put our allegiance to our country before our allegiance to our God, and I am personally surprised that it is at all surprising. Isn't it common sense? And, really, what thinker who acknowledged the existence of God would disagree? I can think of none.
Further funnies: liberal Christians (coincidentally: most mainstream Protestants - almost all liberals - said America had a higher allegiance than God) are always at Evangelicals for their high esteem of country. The fact is, at a grassroots level, we are very patriotic, but appropriately so. Allegiance is given where it is due, and enthusiastically and fully.
So, David Van Biema, you have no reason to worry. There will never be an American theocracy. There will be Christian challenges based on revealed truth in response to American follies. And perhaps that worries you just as much.
Time's Article - God or Country?
I think most Evangelicals will be surprised to hear that people expect us to put our allegiance to our country before our allegiance to our God, and I am personally surprised that it is at all surprising. Isn't it common sense? And, really, what thinker who acknowledged the existence of God would disagree? I can think of none.
Further funnies: liberal Christians (coincidentally: most mainstream Protestants - almost all liberals - said America had a higher allegiance than God) are always at Evangelicals for their high esteem of country. The fact is, at a grassroots level, we are very patriotic, but appropriately so. Allegiance is given where it is due, and enthusiastically and fully.
So, David Van Biema, you have no reason to worry. There will never be an American theocracy. There will be Christian challenges based on revealed truth in response to American follies. And perhaps that worries you just as much.
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