Choosing non-inerrancy over inerrancy involves a number of factors that seems to have less to do with the data observed in scripture and more to do with the psychological and social location of the person doing the observing. Philosophy of science has helped us realize that more is involved in deciding which theory to adopt than simply observing the data at hand:
“The knower is seen as a kind of conquerer, like Julius Caesar winning his battles according to the formula ‘I came, I saw, I conquered.’ A person who wants to know something, so he makes his observation or experiment and then he knows. Even research workers who have won many a scientific battle may believe this naïve story when looking at their own work in retrospect.
At most they will admit that the first observation may have been a little imprecise, whereas the second and third were ‘adjusted to the facts.’ But the situation is not so simple, except in certain very limited fields, such as present-day mechanics, in which there are very ancient and widely known everyday facts to draw upon. In more modern, more remote, and still complicated fields, in which it is important first of all to learn to observe and ask questions properly, this situation does not obtain—and perhaps never does, originally, in any field—until tradition, education, and familiarity have produced a readiness for stylized (that is, directed and restricted) perception and action; until an answer becomes largely pre-formed in the question, and a decision is confined merely to ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ or perhaps to a numerical determination; until methods and apparatus automatically carry out the greatest part of our mental work for us.” (Ludwig Fleck, Genesis and Development of a Scientific Fact, 84, italics in original)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Neo-evangelical apologetic theology
I was reading Stanley Grenz's Renewing the Center and came across a chapter entitled, "The Shaping of Neo-Evangelical Apologetic Theology." C. F. Henry and B. Ramm are the stars of this chapter in evangelical history. Grenz recounts how both theologians lamented how evangelicalism had billed inerrancy as one of evangelicalisms core issues. But even so the theological culture that ensued became one such that theology was self-consciously done in an apologetic way. Millard Erickson and Clark Pinnock were students of Henry and Ramm respectively and carried the torch of apologetic theology. This seems emblematic of how conservative evangelical Protestantism has gotten caught up in an exaggerated sense of "protest" against perpetual modernist attacks from which it might never fully recover--always feeling compelled to do conservative theology that is self-consciously apologetic for the sake of the laity. (Compare Richard Lints, The Fabric of Theology, and Craig Allert, A High View of Scripture?)
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Christology as the model for scripture?
Someone explain again why Christ as totally divine and totally human is assumed to be a serviceable model for understanding what scripture is? Aside from there being a meeting of divine and human in both Christ and scripture, what warrant is there really for setting the terms of the discussion in terms of an incarnational analogy? I don't see why evangelicals feel compelled to defer to conciliar formulations of christology to help them articulate what kind of thing we think scripture is? Like I say in my book, evangelicals should not bind scripture to Christ. I thought you were supposed to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, not your doctrine of scripture!
Aside from the arguments I give in my book I might also suggest two further points. First, the council determined that Christ has one person and two natures. Where is that in scripture? Or what part of scripture can help us conclude that? The declaration that Christ has one person and two nature is a conciliar determination, plain and simple, a decision that has become a major part of the Christian tradition. This conciliar model--not biblical (which isn't a bad thing necessarily, but it does need to be stated)-- is setting the parameters within which all evangelical discussions of scripture can take place. Why allow this to be the case?
Second, an insistence on an incarnational analogy allows for a mood of discussion such that people can't help but suggest to each other that if one entertains such and such about scripture then one is like the so and so heretics during the christological controversies. Evangelicals can't seem to help themselves from saying, "Now that's a docetic view of scripture," "That's an Arian view of scripture," "That's an adoptionist view of scripture," and so on. I don't see how this kind of talk helps clarify anything. I think this kind of talk tacitly imposes a conceptual scheme on scripture that evangelicals who think of themselves as "orthodox" will not be willing to question. The incarnational analogy sociologically limits the range of options that can be entertained and may even force discussions about what scripture is in directions that scripture itself may not welcome. That scripture has the equivalent of one person and two natures is not a formulation that all evangelicals will be on board with--or they may want to think about it critically. Such evangelicals should not be regarded as heretics from the onset on account of the arbitrary terms in which the discussion has already been set. Talk about loading the questions!
Aside from the arguments I give in my book I might also suggest two further points. First, the council determined that Christ has one person and two natures. Where is that in scripture? Or what part of scripture can help us conclude that? The declaration that Christ has one person and two nature is a conciliar determination, plain and simple, a decision that has become a major part of the Christian tradition. This conciliar model--not biblical (which isn't a bad thing necessarily, but it does need to be stated)-- is setting the parameters within which all evangelical discussions of scripture can take place. Why allow this to be the case?
Second, an insistence on an incarnational analogy allows for a mood of discussion such that people can't help but suggest to each other that if one entertains such and such about scripture then one is like the so and so heretics during the christological controversies. Evangelicals can't seem to help themselves from saying, "Now that's a docetic view of scripture," "That's an Arian view of scripture," "That's an adoptionist view of scripture," and so on. I don't see how this kind of talk helps clarify anything. I think this kind of talk tacitly imposes a conceptual scheme on scripture that evangelicals who think of themselves as "orthodox" will not be willing to question. The incarnational analogy sociologically limits the range of options that can be entertained and may even force discussions about what scripture is in directions that scripture itself may not welcome. That scripture has the equivalent of one person and two natures is not a formulation that all evangelicals will be on board with--or they may want to think about it critically. Such evangelicals should not be regarded as heretics from the onset on account of the arbitrary terms in which the discussion has already been set. Talk about loading the questions!
Inerrancy and rebellion
"The oneness of allegiance to God and faithfulness to Holy Scripture has been known to the community of faith from its very inception; the infallible authority of Scripture is indeed a first-order doctrine. To abandon the intellectual aspect of this authority--"inerrancy" in its broader terms--to make the transition from the reliability of Scripture to its unreliability, in Berkouwer's words, would be a step entirely inimical to all genuine Christian theology. It would constitute ethical, as well as intellectual, rebellion against the Lordship of Christ in his dialogical relationship with the Church." (Douglas Farrow, The Word of Truth and Disputes About Words, 77)
Although Farrow says that inerrancy does not necessarily mean total factual inerrancy, he places pretty high stakes on one's opinion regarding scripture. I think these terms of rebellion in the context of one's belief about scripture go too far. I'm also very wary about the allegiance to God = allegiance to scripture formula. The proposal sets forth what's spiritually at stake in the inerrancy discussion and the stamping of a formula for the evangelical ultimatum with church history's imprimatur implies that one has no right to see any continuity between themselves and what has come before if one falls on the wrong side of the debate. These are strong words indeed.
The history of science and Christianity shows up a number of scientific discoveries that were thought to be "inimical to all genuine Christian theology" and after a generation or two understood not to be so inimical. Surely the articulation of a doctrine describing the nature and authority of scripture comes further down the line than first order theoretical considerations, especially given the actual experience of most Christians, evangelical Christianity included.
Although Farrow says that inerrancy does not necessarily mean total factual inerrancy, he places pretty high stakes on one's opinion regarding scripture. I think these terms of rebellion in the context of one's belief about scripture go too far. I'm also very wary about the allegiance to God = allegiance to scripture formula. The proposal sets forth what's spiritually at stake in the inerrancy discussion and the stamping of a formula for the evangelical ultimatum with church history's imprimatur implies that one has no right to see any continuity between themselves and what has come before if one falls on the wrong side of the debate. These are strong words indeed.
The history of science and Christianity shows up a number of scientific discoveries that were thought to be "inimical to all genuine Christian theology" and after a generation or two understood not to be so inimical. Surely the articulation of a doctrine describing the nature and authority of scripture comes further down the line than first order theoretical considerations, especially given the actual experience of most Christians, evangelical Christianity included.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Separation from non-inerrantists
If an inerrantist is seen collaborating with a non-inerrantist, that inerrantist will likely get the business. I had forgotten all about fundamentalism's push for a strict separation from all things not fundamentalist. Not only that, but the idea of separation was elaborated along the lines that there are different degrees of separation that fundamentalists are required to observe, because the Bible says to do so. For example, a fundamentalist church might not have endorsed Billy Graham because he didn't mind sending people off to non-inerrantist churches, for example. But some fundamentalist churches went further and taught that the Bible inerrantly says that fundamentalist churches should also separate themselves from any other organization who did not feel the same about Billy Graham. And the really spiritual churches came up with the idea (from the Bible) that they should also separate themselves from churches who had not sufficiently separated themselves from churches/organizations who decided to host Billy Graham. I forgot just how powerful a social stigma associating with a non-inerrantist can be for a fundamentalist. In some cases, the pressure to separate remains a tacit cultural force in sectors of evangelicalism that are of fundamentalist descent. It will always be an uphill battle to get productive, non-apologetic conversations going about inerrancy with fundamentalist evangelicals.
[I know evangelicals generally don't like to think of themselves as fundamentalists. I myself have been called a fundamentalist a few times within the last year or so--my non-inerrantist leaning not being non-inerrantist enough. I always find it to be a curious accusation, but it clearly means that I am the bad guy, presumably because I was perceived by those interlocutors as being inexplicably close-minded and too interested in what scripture said.]
Fortunately, separation seems to be on the way out, even in fundamentalist circles. (See http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/octoberweb-only/143-52.0.html) Younger believers aren't buying into it, even if some older ones think it's crucial. If one is open to applying hermeneutics to one's own religiosity, it's the younger generations that can help facilitate this. It's the younger people who can help move things along. They haven't lived the controversies, they weren't there when the denominational lines were drawn. They weren't even there when the passing generation impressed upon us how important the fundamentals of the faith are (and have always been--meaning, of course, ever since they can remember). So maybe my effort to appeal to an older generation with respect to how they teach inerrancy to younger people is hopelessly misguided. Perhaps it's the younger believers who need to be reached directly. It's the younger ones who will change the world (that is, if it can [or wants to] be changed). So perhaps our kids will have an easier time talking about inerrancy than many evangelicals have at the present. But it will still depend on how the older generations teach them scripture in the first place and what voice the younger ones are given in their communities. That leaves me to wonder: how in the world will things ever change?
[I know evangelicals generally don't like to think of themselves as fundamentalists. I myself have been called a fundamentalist a few times within the last year or so--my non-inerrantist leaning not being non-inerrantist enough. I always find it to be a curious accusation, but it clearly means that I am the bad guy, presumably because I was perceived by those interlocutors as being inexplicably close-minded and too interested in what scripture said.]
Fortunately, separation seems to be on the way out, even in fundamentalist circles. (See http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/octoberweb-only/143-52.0.html) Younger believers aren't buying into it, even if some older ones think it's crucial. If one is open to applying hermeneutics to one's own religiosity, it's the younger generations that can help facilitate this. It's the younger people who can help move things along. They haven't lived the controversies, they weren't there when the denominational lines were drawn. They weren't even there when the passing generation impressed upon us how important the fundamentals of the faith are (and have always been--meaning, of course, ever since they can remember). So maybe my effort to appeal to an older generation with respect to how they teach inerrancy to younger people is hopelessly misguided. Perhaps it's the younger believers who need to be reached directly. It's the younger ones who will change the world (that is, if it can [or wants to] be changed). So perhaps our kids will have an easier time talking about inerrancy than many evangelicals have at the present. But it will still depend on how the older generations teach them scripture in the first place and what voice the younger ones are given in their communities. That leaves me to wonder: how in the world will things ever change?
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Inerrancy's social prototype
On Wikipedia, I found this statement under the write-up for inerrancy: "Evangelical churches which hold to Biblical inerrancy will often make a prominent, unambiguous statement supporting this in a list of their beliefs." I already know that colleges, universities, seminaries, and other institutions that are inerrantist feel compelled to explicitly say so on their statements of faith--isn't that how one knows that the organization in question really takes the Bible seriously (and by extension, really taking Christianity seriously)? But to actually read a statement relating how evangelical establishments tend to explicitly declare their inerrantist status has caused me to reflect on why inerrantist culture tacitly expects that one make an explicit public statement on on scripture's inerrancy if one is really serious about scripture (and by extension, really serious about Christianity).
Accordingly, I was reminded of a summary of social identity that I read online, specifically, the following excerpt:
"The signaling examples from the world of biology have been simple mappings, with a direct
correspondence between signal and trait: big horns signal strength. With identity, the process is more complicated. We do not build up our impression of another trait by trait. Instead, we bring to the interpretation a number of pre-existing prototypes and our observations of people leads us to categorize them as being like one or another of these prototypes. Thus, from a limited set of interactions and observations we can create a richly detailed (if not always accurate) impression of another. Understanding how these prototypes are created and modified, how they are shared across a culture, and how we use them to categorize people is an essential part of understanding identity.
Interpretations of identity are subjective. The prototypes that populate one person’s cognitive map of the social world will be different from another’s, because their experiences are different. The more people share of a common culture, the more likely it is that their social prototypes will be similar."(http://smg.media.mit.edu/classes/IdentitySignals05/NotesOnSocialIdentity.1.pdf)
There is an ongoing debate within (and without) evangelicalism about whether inerrancy is a 19th century construct. Perhaps, it's not a concept that is being fought over here in this debate, but a social prototype. Maybe what the one side is trying to say is that although something like inerrancy may have been believed by various Christians throughout the churches' history, the social prototype of 'inerrantist evangelical' is entirely a 19th century cultural development.
Accordingly, I was reminded of a summary of social identity that I read online, specifically, the following excerpt:
"The signaling examples from the world of biology have been simple mappings, with a direct
correspondence between signal and trait: big horns signal strength. With identity, the process is more complicated. We do not build up our impression of another trait by trait. Instead, we bring to the interpretation a number of pre-existing prototypes and our observations of people leads us to categorize them as being like one or another of these prototypes. Thus, from a limited set of interactions and observations we can create a richly detailed (if not always accurate) impression of another. Understanding how these prototypes are created and modified, how they are shared across a culture, and how we use them to categorize people is an essential part of understanding identity.
Interpretations of identity are subjective. The prototypes that populate one person’s cognitive map of the social world will be different from another’s, because their experiences are different. The more people share of a common culture, the more likely it is that their social prototypes will be similar."(http://smg.media.mit.edu/classes/IdentitySignals05/NotesOnSocialIdentity.1.pdf)
There is an ongoing debate within (and without) evangelicalism about whether inerrancy is a 19th century construct. Perhaps, it's not a concept that is being fought over here in this debate, but a social prototype. Maybe what the one side is trying to say is that although something like inerrancy may have been believed by various Christians throughout the churches' history, the social prototype of 'inerrantist evangelical' is entirely a 19th century cultural development.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
If you really trusted God you'd be an inerrantist
Disagreeing with inerrancy is often equated with a spiritual deformity to the effect that an errantist is simply unwilling to trust God:
"The difficulty some have in accepting inerrancy is no new trend in evangelicalism, nor is disregard for the the original text. But to dismiss a belief in inerrancy or to attack the original text because God’s people today do not possess the original papyri on which the biblical writers wrote shows a great lack of confidence in the God who has given His written Word. Such doubters show distrust in the God who inspired and gave the text for His people’s benefit, to be used in various settings besides that of the original audience (cf. Col 4:16; 2 Tim 2:2). They
may be ill-informed or simply uninformed. But ignorance is not always bliss, especially when it leads one to disregard the text of sacred Scripture or question the veracity of the Bible by doubting its inerrancy. The field of textual criticism is crucial for the life of the church, both for ascertaining the original text and for affirming the inerrancy of that text." (Jason Texton,
"NT Text Criticism and Inerrancy" TMSJ 17[2006]: 51-59)
This essay concludes with the following words:
"A careful implementation of textual criticism is the answer to those who would question the value, plausibility, or practicality of a doctrine of an inerrant New Testament. Warfield’s handling of the issue many years ago pointed out that God’s role in the inspiration of Scripture guaranteed its errorless content. That factor should be more than sufficient to erase doubts that any evangelical might have regarding the issue. Historical critical concerns over whether God has chosen to preserve His inerrant Word should not shake the confidence of a Bible scholar in the Bible’s accuracy. Through application of text critical principles, one may retrieve the
original text in spite of errors in its transmission."
"Don't underestimate God"--that's what I'm hearing, as if errantists inexplicably think that inerrantists are overestimating what God has affected in the scriptures. But perhaps it's time to turn the tables on this curious judgment. Could it be that inerrantists are the ones who are underestimating God?
"The difficulty some have in accepting inerrancy is no new trend in evangelicalism, nor is disregard for the the original text. But to dismiss a belief in inerrancy or to attack the original text because God’s people today do not possess the original papyri on which the biblical writers wrote shows a great lack of confidence in the God who has given His written Word. Such doubters show distrust in the God who inspired and gave the text for His people’s benefit, to be used in various settings besides that of the original audience (cf. Col 4:16; 2 Tim 2:2). They
may be ill-informed or simply uninformed. But ignorance is not always bliss, especially when it leads one to disregard the text of sacred Scripture or question the veracity of the Bible by doubting its inerrancy. The field of textual criticism is crucial for the life of the church, both for ascertaining the original text and for affirming the inerrancy of that text." (Jason Texton,
"NT Text Criticism and Inerrancy" TMSJ 17[2006]: 51-59)
This essay concludes with the following words:
"A careful implementation of textual criticism is the answer to those who would question the value, plausibility, or practicality of a doctrine of an inerrant New Testament. Warfield’s handling of the issue many years ago pointed out that God’s role in the inspiration of Scripture guaranteed its errorless content. That factor should be more than sufficient to erase doubts that any evangelical might have regarding the issue. Historical critical concerns over whether God has chosen to preserve His inerrant Word should not shake the confidence of a Bible scholar in the Bible’s accuracy. Through application of text critical principles, one may retrieve the
original text in spite of errors in its transmission."
"Don't underestimate God"--that's what I'm hearing, as if errantists inexplicably think that inerrantists are overestimating what God has affected in the scriptures. But perhaps it's time to turn the tables on this curious judgment. Could it be that inerrantists are the ones who are underestimating God?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Inerrancy, tradition and me
Hermeneutical issues are inextricably bound up with inerrancy and inerrancy with hermeneutics. I try to bring this out in the most convincing way that I know how in my book, Inerrancy and the Spiritual Formation of Younger Evangelicals. Recently, I came across an essay where the author claims that on top of all the run-of-the-mill hermeneutical concerns that attend reading Christian scripture, there is a special hermeneutic suggested to Bible readers by the scriptures themselves:
"There is another kind of hermeneutics common at least to some books, certainly peculiar to the Bible. Namely, that kind of hermeneutics in which the book itself gives you certain information about how you are to read it. It involves the kind of attitude and mindset you bring with you when you read the Scriptures." (Robert Preus, "Scripture: God's Word and God's Power" in Can We Trust the Bible? [ed. E. Radmacher], 68.)
Preus states that the testaments form a unity, that scripture has power to do certain things, that scripture is meant to have soteriological effects, that the entire Bible is a witness to Christ (even if portions of it do not at first appear to be), that scripture has a divine origin, that scripture is always useful and that it always bears God's authority--these are all hermeneutical principles that one can gather inductively as one reads the Bible and, as such, must be incorporated into all hermeneutical acts of scripture reading. It would be a great mistake to read scripture as if it is just like any other book when scripture itself tells readers not to read it as if it were any other piece of literature.
My question is, as it always has been: Is it really scripture that gives us this special set of biblical hermeneutical rules or is it our traditions (cultural and ecclesiastic) that tacitly recommend them to us? Is scripture informing our traditions or are traditions informing our scriptures? Which is it if we are honest with ourselves? In my book I say it's both; I call the canonical dialectic. But inerrancy doesn't make any sense to me at all in such a context. I can't seem to meaningfully separate the text from my tradition or the tradition from my text for that matter. When it comes down to it, all that is inerrant is me.
"There is another kind of hermeneutics common at least to some books, certainly peculiar to the Bible. Namely, that kind of hermeneutics in which the book itself gives you certain information about how you are to read it. It involves the kind of attitude and mindset you bring with you when you read the Scriptures." (Robert Preus, "Scripture: God's Word and God's Power" in Can We Trust the Bible? [ed. E. Radmacher], 68.)
Preus states that the testaments form a unity, that scripture has power to do certain things, that scripture is meant to have soteriological effects, that the entire Bible is a witness to Christ (even if portions of it do not at first appear to be), that scripture has a divine origin, that scripture is always useful and that it always bears God's authority--these are all hermeneutical principles that one can gather inductively as one reads the Bible and, as such, must be incorporated into all hermeneutical acts of scripture reading. It would be a great mistake to read scripture as if it is just like any other book when scripture itself tells readers not to read it as if it were any other piece of literature.
My question is, as it always has been: Is it really scripture that gives us this special set of biblical hermeneutical rules or is it our traditions (cultural and ecclesiastic) that tacitly recommend them to us? Is scripture informing our traditions or are traditions informing our scriptures? Which is it if we are honest with ourselves? In my book I say it's both; I call the canonical dialectic. But inerrancy doesn't make any sense to me at all in such a context. I can't seem to meaningfully separate the text from my tradition or the tradition from my text for that matter. When it comes down to it, all that is inerrant is me.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
What do we expect the Bible to do for us?
I have found that in my early Christian experience I had put too much hope in the Bible. What is it that evangelicals expect the Bible to do? What is it that evangelicals expect the Bible to be for them? We trust God, but there seems to be this implicit inference that one shows that they are trusting God precisely by trusting the Bible. Should this be? I don't think so. God is not the Bible, the Bible is not God. People say to me that the Bible does so much for them because the Bible is God's Word. I respond that it seems to me that they are acting as if the Bible is God. They rely on the Bible in the way that I try to rely on God. What historical development made this bait-and-switch possible and even plausible to begin with? Anti-clericalism drives people to individual Bible study, just Jesus and me via the Bible. That might have something to do with it. But lately I've had occasion to reflect on some of the Vollenhoven reading I did while at ICS. I wonder how influential that trajectory of thought is for modern conservative, inerrantist, American evangelicalism. The old theoretical vision of a "Calvinistic philosophy" may be what helps perpetuate the inerrantist expectation of the Bible, even to this day:
"Philosophy investigates the cosmos as a whole. But to grasp this object of knowledge as a whole and in its formal unity, one must be able to grasp it from the outside, i.e. transcendently. This truth is unfortunately not always acknowledged. As a member of a mob you cannot command a view of it, but the outsider, the bystander, can; human personality is unintelligible from the 'view-point' of a blood corpuscle, however much this corpuscle may have travelled through all parts of the human body; the beauty of a painting can never be 'enjoyed' by one of its paint-patches. Likewise the ultimate meaning, significance and unity of cosmic reality can never be understood from a mere human viewpoint, i.e. as long as man (as a part of it) views it 'from the inside', from a cosmically immanent standpoint. The whole is more than the sum of its parts—(this truth enjoys a widespread acknowledgment to-day)—and the whole cannot be understood from the viewpoint of one or of more of its parts. When, however, the whole is grasped from a transcendent point of view, the ultimate meaning of every part is revealed at the same time. To understand the cosmic universe as a unique whole as well as in its parts there must be a transcendent source of knowledge supplying the necessary transcendent point of view—the necessary (philosophical) point of Archimedes. Such a transcendent revelation can only be given by a transcendent Personality —by God. The Calvinist maintains that this necessary condition is fulfilled by the Bible, the genuine Verbum Dei." (H.G. Stoker, "The Possibility of a Calvinistic Philosophy,” The Evangelical Quarterly 7 (1935): 20, http://www.theologicalstudies.org.uk/pdf/eq/possibility_stoker.pdf)
The Bible paid it all, all to it I owe; Sin had left a crimson stain, it washed it white as snow.
"Philosophy investigates the cosmos as a whole. But to grasp this object of knowledge as a whole and in its formal unity, one must be able to grasp it from the outside, i.e. transcendently. This truth is unfortunately not always acknowledged. As a member of a mob you cannot command a view of it, but the outsider, the bystander, can; human personality is unintelligible from the 'view-point' of a blood corpuscle, however much this corpuscle may have travelled through all parts of the human body; the beauty of a painting can never be 'enjoyed' by one of its paint-patches. Likewise the ultimate meaning, significance and unity of cosmic reality can never be understood from a mere human viewpoint, i.e. as long as man (as a part of it) views it 'from the inside', from a cosmically immanent standpoint. The whole is more than the sum of its parts—(this truth enjoys a widespread acknowledgment to-day)—and the whole cannot be understood from the viewpoint of one or of more of its parts. When, however, the whole is grasped from a transcendent point of view, the ultimate meaning of every part is revealed at the same time. To understand the cosmic universe as a unique whole as well as in its parts there must be a transcendent source of knowledge supplying the necessary transcendent point of view—the necessary (philosophical) point of Archimedes. Such a transcendent revelation can only be given by a transcendent Personality —by God. The Calvinist maintains that this necessary condition is fulfilled by the Bible, the genuine Verbum Dei." (H.G. Stoker, "The Possibility of a Calvinistic Philosophy,” The Evangelical Quarterly 7 (1935): 20, http://www.theologicalstudies.org.uk/pdf/eq/possibility_stoker.pdf)
The Bible paid it all, all to it I owe; Sin had left a crimson stain, it washed it white as snow.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Rationality of inerrancy again
I have always been impressed by J. P. Moreland's article. He situates belief in inerrancy within a discussion of epistemology and considers issues within philosophy of science as he thinks they pertain to belief in inerrancy. Moreland mentions Plantinga's notion of an index of depth of regression where more central beliefs will take more evidence to dislodge than peripheral beliefs because the hold other beliefs together in an epistemically fundamental way and epistemologically supports a number of other beliefs. Moreland says that inerrancy is not a peripheral belief:
"I am not here using a domino argument and saying that if the Bible is not true in all points we cannot know that it is true in any point. I am simply making the point that inerrancy is clearly a belief which should be closer to the center of one’s noetic structure than to the periphery. This means that one is rationally justified in requiring a good deal of evidence before giving it up." (http://www.biblicalstudies.org.uk/article_inerrancy_moreland.html)
Is there a way to impress upon someone the authority of the Bible without making it closer to the center of one's noetic structure? Without making inerrancy closer to the center of one's noetic structure? Surely there must be a way. If a scriptural principle is not taught as peripheral, can it not be presented at least closer to the peripheral? There would be less spiritual fallout this way.
"I am not here using a domino argument and saying that if the Bible is not true in all points we cannot know that it is true in any point. I am simply making the point that inerrancy is clearly a belief which should be closer to the center of one’s noetic structure than to the periphery. This means that one is rationally justified in requiring a good deal of evidence before giving it up." (http://www.biblicalstudies.org.uk/article_inerrancy_moreland.html)
Is there a way to impress upon someone the authority of the Bible without making it closer to the center of one's noetic structure? Without making inerrancy closer to the center of one's noetic structure? Surely there must be a way. If a scriptural principle is not taught as peripheral, can it not be presented at least closer to the peripheral? There would be less spiritual fallout this way.
Friday, February 1, 2008
When to give up inerrancy
Some writers want to hold onto inerrancy and redefine it. Others want to relinquish inerrancy to the inerrantists and commend "trustworthiness" and "faithfulness" in inerrancy's stead. When should one give up inerrancy? This reminds me of an even more basic philosophical problem: when can one say that an idea or belief has enough problems that it should be given up? There is an article that has always intrigued me that speaks briefly on this:
"It could be objected that nowhere have I stated any criteria for knowing when there would be enough problems with inerrancy to justify giving it up. Thus, I cannot rationally claim to know that inerrancy is true. I can only offer two brief but important responses. First, as has already been argued, there are no acceptable criteria in the philosophy of science that can be applied in a simple, algorithmic way to all or most cases of theory change in science. The simple fact is that the rationality of theory change is a very multifaceted affair. The same can be said of theological systems. No simple set of criteria can be given for when one theological construct should be given up and another believed. This is not to say that there are no cases where theological or scientific hypotheses should be abandoned. But determining when that point is reached and how one knows it has been reached is another matter. Theological constructs (first order or second order), inerrancy included, are no different from scientific theories in this regard. So I can offer no adequate criteria for when inerrancy should be abandoned. But this is not surprising, nor is it because I am engaging in a special pleading. This is just the way it often is with hypotheses.
Second, as Roderick Chrisholm has pointed out, there are many things one can know without having criteria for knowing them. If this were not the case, I would never know anything, since to know I would have to have criteria for knowledge. But to know my criteria, I would have to have criteria for my criteria. This is a vicious regress. So I can know some things without giving criteria for knowing them or for falsifying them.
As an example, consider a puzzle from the ancient Greeks, known as the sorites problem. Given a small heap of wheat, can I get a large heap by adding one grain? It seems not, for how could one go from a small to a large heap by merely adding one grain. But then it seems that one could add grains of wheat to a small heap and never reach a large heap. Consider another puzzle. If one gradually changes the shade of a color from red to orange, can one tell when the color changes from red to orange? Probably not. But in the absence of such a criterion, how can I know when I see red or orange? The problem with both puzzles is this: they assume that in the absence of clear criteria for borderline cases, one cannot have knowledge of clear cases. Without being able to judge when the heap becomes large, I can never know that it is large. Without being able to judge when the color changes to orange, I can never know that it is orange. But the fact is, I can know a large heap or an orange color even if I have no criteria.
I am not dismissing criteria altogether. Indeed, they are important in an overall theory of rationality. But I do not need criteria in all cases to know something. In the case of inerrancy, the issue is complicated enough that I do not think one needs to give criteria for knowing when to believe errancy or to accept the falsification of inerrancy. It does not follow from this that it would never be rational to give up belief in inerrancy. It may. But giving criteria for this is not easy." (J. P. Moreland, "The Rationality Of Belief In Inerrancy," Trinity Journal 7 (1986): http://www.biblicalstudies.org.uk/article_inerrancy_moreland.html)
I take from this that an inerrantist does not have to give an upper limit for the amount of "error" he or she will tolerate before giving up inerrancy. This may help explain why some non-inerrantists look at some of the more "liberal" inerrantists and say, "You're not really an inerrantist." Perhaps the inerrantist him/herself cannot tell whether he/she is an inerrantist as the shades of inerrantism have changed repeatedly in such small increments that there is no difference of category involved. Only others can tell for real; only others can judge rightly.
A question comes to mind: Can I really say, The fact is, I know an errant scripture when I 'see' one or I know an inerrant scripture when I 'see' one? These are things, it seems to me, that cannot be decided beforehand. Evangelicals are even now in the process of figuring these things out.
"It could be objected that nowhere have I stated any criteria for knowing when there would be enough problems with inerrancy to justify giving it up. Thus, I cannot rationally claim to know that inerrancy is true. I can only offer two brief but important responses. First, as has already been argued, there are no acceptable criteria in the philosophy of science that can be applied in a simple, algorithmic way to all or most cases of theory change in science. The simple fact is that the rationality of theory change is a very multifaceted affair. The same can be said of theological systems. No simple set of criteria can be given for when one theological construct should be given up and another believed. This is not to say that there are no cases where theological or scientific hypotheses should be abandoned. But determining when that point is reached and how one knows it has been reached is another matter. Theological constructs (first order or second order), inerrancy included, are no different from scientific theories in this regard. So I can offer no adequate criteria for when inerrancy should be abandoned. But this is not surprising, nor is it because I am engaging in a special pleading. This is just the way it often is with hypotheses.
Second, as Roderick Chrisholm has pointed out, there are many things one can know without having criteria for knowing them. If this were not the case, I would never know anything, since to know I would have to have criteria for knowledge. But to know my criteria, I would have to have criteria for my criteria. This is a vicious regress. So I can know some things without giving criteria for knowing them or for falsifying them.
As an example, consider a puzzle from the ancient Greeks, known as the sorites problem. Given a small heap of wheat, can I get a large heap by adding one grain? It seems not, for how could one go from a small to a large heap by merely adding one grain. But then it seems that one could add grains of wheat to a small heap and never reach a large heap. Consider another puzzle. If one gradually changes the shade of a color from red to orange, can one tell when the color changes from red to orange? Probably not. But in the absence of such a criterion, how can I know when I see red or orange? The problem with both puzzles is this: they assume that in the absence of clear criteria for borderline cases, one cannot have knowledge of clear cases. Without being able to judge when the heap becomes large, I can never know that it is large. Without being able to judge when the color changes to orange, I can never know that it is orange. But the fact is, I can know a large heap or an orange color even if I have no criteria.
I am not dismissing criteria altogether. Indeed, they are important in an overall theory of rationality. But I do not need criteria in all cases to know something. In the case of inerrancy, the issue is complicated enough that I do not think one needs to give criteria for knowing when to believe errancy or to accept the falsification of inerrancy. It does not follow from this that it would never be rational to give up belief in inerrancy. It may. But giving criteria for this is not easy." (J. P. Moreland, "The Rationality Of Belief In Inerrancy," Trinity Journal 7 (1986): http://www.biblicalstudies.org.uk/article_inerrancy_moreland.html)
I take from this that an inerrantist does not have to give an upper limit for the amount of "error" he or she will tolerate before giving up inerrancy. This may help explain why some non-inerrantists look at some of the more "liberal" inerrantists and say, "You're not really an inerrantist." Perhaps the inerrantist him/herself cannot tell whether he/she is an inerrantist as the shades of inerrantism have changed repeatedly in such small increments that there is no difference of category involved. Only others can tell for real; only others can judge rightly.
A question comes to mind: Can I really say, The fact is, I know an errant scripture when I 'see' one or I know an inerrant scripture when I 'see' one? These are things, it seems to me, that cannot be decided beforehand. Evangelicals are even now in the process of figuring these things out.
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