Recently in Neocalvinism Category

Ludwig Wittgenstein, considered by many to be the premier philosopher of the 20th century, believed that the proper task of philosophy was to make the nature of our thought and talk clear. Wittgenstein believed that the problems of philosophy were illusory and arose as a misunderstanding about language. While I think he greatly overstates the case, I agree that many problems not only in philosophy but in other areas result from the imprecise use of language.

I must confess that my own muddled use of language often contributes to this problem. When communicating with those who do not share my basic presuppositions, I often forget that we may not be using language in quite the same way. In order to help make the nature of our thought and talk clear, I want to examine a question that is essential to the analysis and comparison of worldviews: What is a religious belief?

In order to define the term in such a way that it is neither too broad nor too narrow, we must list all of the features that are true of all religious beliefs and true only of religious beliefs.* While this may appear to be an obvious point, we are often surprised to find what has been pruned when a definition is stripped to its essential components. Imagine, for instance, trying to define the concept of tree in a way that is limited to what is true for all trees but only true of trees. Paring the explanation down in such a manner would not only be difficult but leave us with a curious, and likely unsatisfying, definition.

What is true of trees will be equally so for religious beliefs. After we cut away the foliage and underbrush that are features of specific religious beliefs we are likely to be unimpressed by the bare, slender reed that remains. We should also expect to find that a minimally precise definition will have exposed the fact that some beliefs that we might have considered to be religious really are not, while finding that others are actually more religious than we might have imagined. Nevertheless, while we might be surprised, unsatisfied, or unimpressed, the important point is that we have defined the term correctly.

Let us begin by examining to features that are commonly (though mistakenly) believed to be essential to religious beliefs:

While preparing for a law exam, Joshua Claybourn stumbled across an intriguing quotation from the federal case, Maynard v. Hill, 125 U.S. 190 (1888):

Marriage, as creating the most important relation in life, as having more to do with the morals and civilization of a people than any other institution, has always been subject to the control of the legislature. That body prescribes the age at which parties may contract to marry, the procedure or form essential to constitute marriage, the duties and obligations it creates, its effects upon the poverty rights of both, present and prospective, and the acts which may constitute grounds for its dissolution.

Josh notes that even though the ruling is over a century old, most people would find “significant agreement with the sentiments behind it.” He, however, expresses hesitiation about the idea:

[A]s a self-described 'Christian libertarian,' the quotation makes me squirm. I certainly agree with the Court's view that marriage is "the most important relation in life, as having more to do with the morals and civilization of a people than any other institution." But it is precisely for that reason that I feel the state should stay away from marriage. For an institution so important (and so rooted in religious faiths) it should not be left to the whims of a secular democracy.

There are a number of people I respect immensely who, like Josh, adhere to a form of “Christian libertarianism.” Although I’ve been a vocal opponent of that ideology, the fact that so many thoughtful and intelligent political thinkers have embraced it tempers my criticism. If people smarter than me find it tenable, then I hesitate to dismiss it completely.

Although I have castigated that view on many occasions, I haven’t offered a suitable substitute. Recently, though, I hinted that neocalvinism could provide an alternative so it might be interesting to see how this would work out on this issue.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, considered by many to be the premier philosopher of the 20th century, believed that the proper task of philosophy was to make the nature of our thought and talk clear. Wittgenstein believed that the problems of philosophy were illusory and arose as a misunderstanding about language. While I think he greatly overstates the case, I agree that many problems not only in philosophy but in other areas result from the imprecise use of language.

I must confess that my own muddled use of language often contributes to this problem. When communicating with those who do not share my basic presuppositions, I often forget that we may not be using language in quite the same way. In order to help make the nature of our thought and talk clear, I want to examine a question that is essential to the analysis and comparison of worldviews: What is a religious belief?

In order to define the term in such a way that it is neither too broad nor too narrow, we must list all of the features that are true of all religious beliefs and true only of religious beliefs.* While this may appear to be an obvious point, we are often surprised to find what has been pruned when a definition is stripped to its essential components. Imagine, for instance, trying to define the concept of tree in a way that is limited to what is true for all trees but only true of trees. Paring the explanation down in such a manner would not only be difficult but leave us with a curious, and likely unsatisfying, definition.

What is true of trees will be equally so for religious beliefs. After we cut away the foliage and underbrush that are features of specific religious beliefs we are likely to be unimpressed by the bare, slender reed that remains. We should also expect to find that a minimally precise definition will have exposed the fact that some beliefs that we might have considered to be religious really are not, while finding that others are actually more religious than we might have imagined. Nevertheless, while we might be surprised, unsatisfied, or unimpressed, the important point is that we have defined the term correctly.

Let us begin by examining to features that are commonly (though mistakenly) believed to be essential to religious beliefs:

[Note: This is the third post in a discussion on the role of religious beliefs in theory-making. The other two can be found here and here.]

In ancient Greece a religious controversy once broke out over the square root of two. The Pythagoreans, a Hellenic organization of thinkers who believed that all things were essentially reducible to numbers, had an irrational aversion to irrational numbers. Because they believed that numbers represented a realm of invisible mathematical entities upon which the visible world depended, the Pythagoreans insisted that there could be no genuinely irrational numbers and attempted to keep such knowledge a secret. Legend has it that Hippasus of Metapontum, a disciple of Pythagoras, was at sea when he discovered that the square root of 2 is irrational. His fellow Pythagoreans, outraged by the finding, threw him overboard.

Today, of course, we are more enlightened and rarely drown mathematicians who disagree with a theory (instead he’d just be denied tenure). But while disagreements over theories may not spark a murderous rage, they are as religiously motivated and reductionist as they were in Hippasus’ day. Yet for the most part, such presuppositional beliefs remain unexamined even among Christians. Although we should know better, we too often fail to understand the guiding role that religious beliefs and other presuppositions have on theory-making.

Even when the importance of Christian-based scholarship is acknowledged it is generally for the wrong reasons. While we may not use such language to describe our intentions, we tend to take a postmodern view in which we are offering an alternative “meta-narrative” to compete among a pluralism of other viewpoints. What we fail to comprehend is that the reason it is imperative for Christians to “think Christianly” about theory-making is that is essential for adequate scholarship.

Earlier this week I took issue with the claim that there is a “norm prescribing that religious beliefs are inadmissible in academic explanations.” I made the assertion that evangelical scholars should “think Christianly” about their research programs and that we all fool ourselves into believing that we can approach our vocations with a sense of religious neutrality. Naturally, some people were skeptical. Even those who agreed with my general point did not see, as Darrell DeLaney wrote, how there could be a “particularly Christian view to hard subjects like math and science.”

While I understand their hesitation I do believe there is a Christian view of math and science. In fact, I believe that there is a distinctly Christian view of everything.

The reason this idea seems so foreign (if not downright absurd) is that most views have a minimal pragmatic affect on how we actually live our lives. Both my neighbor and I, for example, may get sunburned even if we different beliefs about the sun. The fact that I think it is a ball of nuclear plasma while he believes that it is pulled across the sky in a chariot driven by the Greek god Helios doesn't change the fact that we both have to use sunscreen. It is only when we move beneath the surface concepts (“The sun is hot.”) to deeper levels of explanation (“What is the sun?") that our religious beliefs come into play.

Even the concept that 1 + 1 = 2, which almost all people agree with on a surface level, has different meanings based on what theories are proposed as answers. These theories, claims philosopher Roy Clouser, show that going more deeply into the concept of 1 + 1 = 2 reveals important differences in the ways it is understood, and that these differences are due to the divinity beliefs they presuppose.

But before we can see why this is true, let's review what constitutes a “religious belief.”

[Note: Although this piece first appeared exactly one year ago today, I'm reposting it as a converstation starter for the post that will follow.]

Exploring the concepts of race and identity is admittedly a foolhardy task. Attempting to examine these issues from a Christian perspective makes it not only foolish but presumptuous as well. But beginning a Christian evaluation of race and identity by extensively quoting the militant atheist Richard Dawkins shifts it from presumptuously foolish to downright absurd.

Absurd though it may be, I believe that Dawkins provides some valuable insights on the topic that can help illuminate the issue for Christians. My utter disdain for the British zoologist is no secret; I think he is ridiculously overrated as an intellectual. But his recent article on "Race and creation" for Prospect is insightful and, I believe, worth quoting in some detail:

We are all members of the same species, and no reputable biologist would say any different. But let me call your attention to an interesting, perhaps even slightly disturbing, fact. While we happily interbreed with each other, producing a continuous spectrum of inter-races, we are reluctant to give up our divisive racial language. Wouldn't you expect that if all intermediates are on constant display, the urge to classify people as one or the other of two extremes would wither away, smothered by the absurdity of the attempt, which is continually manifested everywhere we look? But this is not what happens, and perhaps that very fact is revealing.

People who are universally agreed by all Americans to be "black" may draw less than one eighth of their ancestry from Africa, and often have a light skin colour well within the normal range for people universally agreed to be "white."

David Wayne of Jollyblogger has an intriguing post on Christians and political blogging. While I could write half a dozen separate posts responding to the issues he addresses, one particular part caught my attention:

The Bible and the Christian worldview have something to say about every sphere of activity in creation. In that regard the Bible has principles which can and should be applied in the political realm. For example, there are ethical principles that can be applied across the board in any sphere of activity, be it political, economic, social, media or what have you. Also, I would argue that you can derive some philosophical principles from Scripture that can inform political beliefs. For instance, I think a case can be made, biblically, that government has a limited and restrictive function in society. Therefore, I would be willing to argue in favor of a political party that at least tried to adhere to this, or that adhered to it more than another party.

Last week I confessed my frustration with conservatism and the Republican party and joked about creating my own political party based on Kuyperian (neocalvinist) principles. David’s post got me to thinking what foundational principles and beliefs would be required to create such an organization. What follows is the beginning of a rough outline toward that task*: