Category Archives for Philosophy

Martin Gardner, skeptic and Theist

Martin Garner passed away this weekend; he was 95. Gardner was a well-known mathematician, skeptic and author. I first became aware of him in the mid-80′s, when he edited The Annotated Alice, a fully annotated version of Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass.

What is interesting about Martin Gardner is that while he was known for his writing on rationalism and skepticism, he remained a lifelong theist who believed in an afterlife. He had been raised a fundamentalist Christian, but turned away from that while in college (a common result of being raised a fundamentalist).While many who reject fundamentalism end up throwing out the whole baby with the bath, becoming fundamentalist materialists, Gardner never could completely shake his belief that there was something more.

There’s a very interesting post today at RationallyThinking.org, a meditation of sorts on Gardner’s The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener. I, at least, found it interesting.

Fr. Dmitiri Dudko on faith and proof

Russian Orthodox priest Father Dmitri Dudko was both a heroic and a tragic figure in Communist Russia.  He was under constant scrutiny by the KGB, but continued to teach the truth of Christianity. While Christian dialog was prohibited, in 1972 and 73 he asked his congregation to submit questions they had, which he then addressed in his sermons. Many of these were written down by those in attendance, and distributed around Russia (not unlike the spread of the NT documents, or Luther’s 95 Theses).  In 1977 many of these were published outside of Russia in a volume entitled Our Hope, which reveals much about the church in Russia in the early 70′s, as well as providing some thoughtful questions and answers about the Christian faith in the context of an overtly atheistic culture.

Dudko was eventually broken by the KGB and coerced into recanting, which was apparently televised.  He later confessed how much he regretted his mistake, writing “Compared to the hell that I then brought into my soul, anything – even torture or execution – would have been easier to bear.”  He died in 2004.

The other night I picked up the book, and opened it to page 140:

Question: What proof is there in apologetics of Christ’s resurrection?

Answer: Proofs? Nowadays we’ve begun to prove everything. Prove that you love. Prove there’s a sun in the sky, or clouds. Prove you’re a man, not a camel…  So they ask me to produce proofs of Christ’s Resurrection.  We consider proofs to be an important argument, whereas in fact they’re no argument at all.  Proofs are the fruit of our weakness and not of our strength, the fruit of our unbelief.  Forgive me, but I don’t want to know any proofs, and I wouldn’t recommend that you seek them.  The fundamental proof is our faith. If we have no faith, no proofs will help.

But then, of course, the question arises:  Does this mean that we must believe blindly?  “Believe because it’s absurd,” like Tertullian?  I would like to address precisely this: the absurdity and the “blindness” of faith.  For in fact, faith is vision.  …  Faith, as one Russian philosopher said, is profound knowledge. The knowledge we glean from books is shallow, and with its help all we can learn are earthly laws.  But knowledge of the resurrection of Christ demands profound knowledge  – that is, not merely stuffing your head full of quotations and information, but transfiguring your entire being. That brings profound knowledge: faith.  Yes, faith often contradicts the shallow variety of knowledge, and shallow knowledge in turn considers faith to be absurdity.  It is for this reason that Tertullian said, “I believe because it is absurd” – not because faith itself is agsurd, but because shallow knowledge, the sinful world, considers it to be so.  I believe, not because it is absurd in general, but only because from your point of view it is absurd. In this way, we believe Christ’s Resurrection, but we don’t “prove” it. You have no faith?  That is your misfortune. …

… I know that there are people who doubt the Gospel, who insist that it’s not convincing. It is difficult to refute such people. They can only be pitied, for those who say such things are unable to believe; they have not yet acquired profound knowledge.

This is brilliant- this is an understanding of knowledge that can’t be comprehended from within a modernist framework, which by intent considers only “shallow” knowledge as reasonable.

Credit where credit’s due

As most of you who read this know, one of my more frequent commenters is my friend, Mike.  Mike and I became friends years ago because we both liked John Prine and the Guess Who, among other things.  A few years ago, we got reacquainted on the web.  Wonderful thing, the web.

And, as most of you know, Mike and I disagree, a lot.  Mike is not only an atheist, he’s a liberal.  But, he’s a Bob Dylan fan, so he still has some redeeming qualities…

We have an understanding that allows us to attack each other’s positions without mercy, and I think we both profit from it (I do, anyway).  So, when Mike writes something I don’t disagree with, and which is quite good, it’s only right that I highlight that, too.

Mike is a contributor to an interesting little blog called Quiche Moraine (besides blogging on his own).  Today, he wrote a piece on QM entitled Atheism Evangelized, which discusses the mutual evangelism that takes place between atheists and Christians.  I think it’s a good post, and think many on both sides of the fence could profit from it.

So, go read it.

Credo ut intelligam: an approach to modernism

Credo ut intelligam is Latin for “I believe so that I may understand,” St. Anselm’s famous quote, who also used the phrase fides quaerens intellectum, or “faith seeking understanding.”  The full quote is actually, “Nor do I seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe that I may understand. For this, too, I believe, that, unless I first believe, I shall not understand.”

Anselm, like Augustine, believed that faith and belief preceded understanding, not exactly a respected position among modernists.  Ironically, an analysis of modernism would reveal that they, too, depend upon the credo ut intelligam formula.  For example, look at Hector Avalos, a good example of Romans 1:22.

Avalos is a professor of Religious Studies at the University of Iowa, and author of a number of books, including The End of Biblical Studies. He is also a former Pentecostal child evangelist (meaning he was an evangelist as a child, not that he necessarily evangelized children).  He appears to have quite a large chip on his shoulder when it comes to Christianity.  In a current post at Debunking Christianity, he  restates his belief that “the field of biblical studies is still permeated by religionist biases.”  Yes, that’s a Romans 1:22 moment if ever I’ve heard one.

Now, I don’t think that anyone would disagree that the study of the Bible is permeated – even dominated – by “religionist” biases.  Avalos, however, seems to believe that it shouldn’t be.  He states:

I want to end THE WAY the Bible is studied. In fact, I provide three scenarios on that page:

1) Eliminate biblical studies completely from the modern world.

2) Retain biblical studies as is, but admit that it is a religionist enterprise.

3) Retain biblical studies, but redefine its purpose so that it is tasked with eliminating completely the influence of the Bible in the modern world.

Of these 3 options, he prefers the third.  One of his goals, as a professor of religion, is to eliminate the influence of the Bible in the modern world, so “there should be no function or value left to the Bible anymore than there is to Homer’s Iliad in modern society.”

Back to Epistemology

Here, I think, is a modernist example of Anselm’s maxim.  Avalos has chosen to believe – I would say ‘to have faith in’ – modernism, meaning a naturalist, materialist, rationalist worldview (there are other views of modernism, but his is prevalent within the scholastic community).  As I’ve argued elsewhere, atheism, scientism, materialism, etc. have to be taken on faith; at some point a Kierkegaardian leap made from whatever set of data he relied on, to a conclusion that modernism with all of it’s baggage is truth, as far as it can be known.  Epistemologically, this position cannot be proven; rationalism, science and the rest require belief in order to go anywhere.

Avalos cannot use the tools of modernism to show that modernism is superior to any other worldview; it is inconsistent even from within modernism.  He must start with a choice to believe; once he believes in modernism, in logic, in reason, then he can begin to understand. It does not – it cannot – work the other way.

Credo ut intelligam.  Understanding can indeed assist belief; but, in the beginning, we must believe.

The Limitations of Reason

As I’ve reported once before, Jeff Carter at Sophie’s Ladder has recently published a series of posts summarizing the history of philosophy as it relates to the limitations of reason. As he states in the opening of his “summation” post,

This series has demonstrated the limitations – and therefore the inadequacy and failure – of reason not only in dealing with metaphysical / spiritual matters, but also in securing a foundation for reason itself. Every attempt to justify reason as a power superior to or even adequate for comprehending the metaphysical / spiritual has failed.

Now, I freely admit that I am not an expert, having bailed on my philosophy major fairly early on in my education.  However, I think a lot, so that counts for something.  One thing I did excel in was logic.  As I’ve spent the last twenty-something years analyzing and countering arguments, I do a pretty good job at it.  However, I have always been intrigued by the knowledge that not only are there limitations to reason, there are other logical systems. As Russell Shorto quotes Jonathan Ree in Descartes Bones – A Skeletal History of the Conflict Between Faith and Reason:

“… the theory of knowledge and the theory of human nature which with it; the concepts of an idea, of mathematical laws of nature … are so fundamental to modern consciousness that it is hard no to regard them as part of the natural property of the human mind. But, in fact, they are a product of the seventeenth century, and above all in the work of Descartes.”

I am also aware that built into modernism – our current Western worldview that resulted from the Cartesian revolution – is the concept of progress, so we asume that our system of logic is necessarily better than anyone else’s; in fact, we cannot conceive of any other system of logic as having any merit whatsoever.

What the series at Sophie’s Ladder does is demonstrate that all attempts to prove the superiority of reason have failed; we believe our concept of reason has to be true, but we really have to accept it on faith.  As Jeff commented on my earlier post, this series is foundational to a response he is writing of John Loftus’ approach to atheism.  Recently John has been touting his “Outsider Test of Faith” (OTF), where he challenges Christians to give up their presuppositions in order to view Christianity as an outsider would.  However, his whole system is nothing more than a house built on sand, as he does not apply the same test to his own presuppositions, which he calls “control beliefs.”  I pointed this out to John, and one of his followers thought it ridiculous that I suggest such a thing.

Of course, his OTF is really just selective application of Godel’s Theorem, which in essence is that no logical (mathematical) system can prove itself – you have to prove it from outside the system.  I am really looking forward to Jeff’s response to Loftus (actually, I’m more interested in Loftus’ response to Jeff).

On the other hand, I believe that it is possible to disprove a system from within the system, in this case, using reason and logic to show the limitations of reason and logic.  The only reason that the New Atheists (I’ll include Loftus in that group, although he distinguishes himself) can continue is that they don’t understand the philosophical mess they are in; or else they do, but are in denial.

While I cannot prove this, at least yet, I am back to thinking that the real issue with most of the atheist apologists is not philosophy or lack of evidence or logic; rather, it is a moral issue, and a faith issue.  In other words, they have chosen to believe what they believe, so that they do not have to believe something else.

Again, I highly recommend the series at Sophie’s Ladder.  It’s very well-done, and concise enough to really provide a big-picture view of the issues related to faith and reason.

Bertrand Russell and the limitations of reason

If there is one thing that sets the so-called “New Atheists” apart from the old atheists, it is perhaps the general ignorance of philosophy, and specifically of the philosophical foundations for their own stated positions.  I will hear Hume quoted (for his atheism and specifically for his arguments against the Design Inference), while ignoring the fact that Hume’s arguments also challenge the concept of causality; for Hume, science and reason cannot ever be predictive.  I have also heard Bertrand Russell quoted, as perhaps the most well-known atheist of recent years, having authored Why I Am Not A Christian.    Russell, however, presents even more problems for the New Atheism.

I thought that I had mentioned the great series of posts, “The Limitations of Reason,” that have been appearing over at Sophie’s Ladder, but perhaps I haven’t. In any even, if you have any interest whatsoever in philosophy and epistemology, this series (now at 10 posts) provides a nice overview.  Number 10 in the series deals with Mr. Russell and his inability to refute Hume.

The New Atheists all tend to lean towards science and specifically evolutionary theories as the “answer” to Christianity and faith in general.  Daniel Dennett stands out somewhat as he is primarily a philosopher, an empiricist who focused on the phlosphy of the mind. I don’t know how he defends his epistemology, if he does. (Perhaps Sophie will address this at some point.)  Russell, however, would not have fit in at all with this group, though he may have wanted to.

Russell’s conclusions include, as quoted by Sophie:

“Although our postulates can … be fitted into a framework which has what may be called an empiricist ‘flavor,’ it remains undeniable that our knowledge of them, in so far as we do know them, cannot be based upon experience…In this sense, it must be admitted empirism as a theory of knowledge has proved inadequate….”

Thus, science is “at war with itself:  when it most means to be objective, it finds itself plunged into subjectivity against its will.  Naive realism leads to physics, and physics, if true, shows that naive realism is false.  Therefore naive realism, if true, is false; therefore it is false.”

and

“If we are to hold that we know anything of the external world, we must accept the canons of scientific knowledge.  Whether… an individual decides to accept or reject these canons, is a purely personal affair, not suscpectible to argument.”

Atheists tend to get upset when I point out that the validity of the scientific method cannot be substantiated by it’s own rules, and that their belief systems are based on choice.  Scientism, which places scientific knowledge above all else, and rationalism are therefore nothing more than other faith or belief systems.  John Loftus at least admits his thinking is based on  a set of foundational assumptions, though he doesn’t seem willing to discuss the validity of those assumptions.

To my knowledge none of the New Atheist discussions get to a foundational level, as Russell’s did. I am assuming this is because 1) they are unwilling to admit they have these assumptions (as science is supposedly totally objective), or 2) if they did, they may have to face Russell’s conclusions. Sophie concludes:

In the end, Russell’s movements through philosophy is an iconic testament to the futility of reason.   His beliefs that the objective world is encountered directly were soon shown to be false.  His attempts to establish mathematical logic were determined to be incomplete.  His attempt to refute Hume and establish inference were admittedly failures.   Yet, for all the crumbling of his towers, “rational” atheists still hold to his basic beliefs, which show that they themselves do not base their beliefs on rationality but cling to them because they desperately want them to be true – the very thing they accuse Christians of doing.

The Inane Atheists

The “New Atheists” – people like Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins and of late, Christopher Hitchens – have been making the news now for a couple of years, as their books promoting their strain of anti-theism can be found on endcap displays and best-seller lists everywhere. While some of you who are arguably wiser than myself may not be familiar with these guys, I’m sure many of you are.  I started paying attention to them initially due to my old friend Mike who, when we reconnected after many years, advised me that he had become an atheist. I’ve never been big on apologetics, but found some of the debates – much of which involved the creation-evolution issue – somewhat stimulating. However, I think that the term “New Atheists” should be changed to “Inane Atheists.”  While some of them at times can sound wise and philosophical (apparently, at least, to other atheists) the majority of their arguments have proven to be little more than atheistic bedtime stories, concocted to provide the same type of comfort they charge religions with fabricating.

The Preacher of Ecclesiastes is correct: There is nothing new under the sun.  While the packaging has changed, there is nothing new about the disbelief in God, and the Biblical advice on the subject is still sound. The Psalmist is on point as is Paul.  Today, atheism, the belief that there is no god of any kind, also includes the belief that nothing supernatural or non-material exists. This, of course, describes a lack of belief, or a negative belief, if you will. The positive – what they do believe – would be called philosophical materialism, or sometimes naturalism. As I’ve described before many times, materialists are merely myopic; they have chosen to believe only in what they think has physical properties.  Atheism is, in many ways, epitomized by the Golden Calf, and yes, it is a form of idolatry, exchanging the worship of the Creator for the worship of the creation. I’m sure the argument would be made that they do not worship anything, but of course that is foolishness as well; the natural processes of the universe and reason itself are put in the place of God.

If anything is new about today’s atheists, it is that they are moderns (as are we all in the West).  As I’ve set forth in my Teacup Analogy, their arguments (for example, lately I’ve read a ridiculous series of posts trying to apply IDQ principles to Christianity and the Bible) must be brought completely within modernism in order to function. If you hold to a philosophy that is skeptical of their epistemology, they sound quite ridiculous.  They succeed only when they manage to trap some poor soul into adopting their presuppositions; as we in the West are all moderns to a degree, it is occasionally possible to suck some unsuspecting Christian into believing that Christianity is properly understood only within a modern context. John Loftus, at Debunking Christianity, is at least honest about that point when he says that modernism is the Achilles’ Heel of Christianity. Of course, John presumes modernism, and at least to my knowledge he hasn’t presented any argument for why modernism is the only true philosophical position; his point is that modernism and Christianity are incompatible, and that if you adopt a purely modernist worldview, Christianity will be undone.

However, as Alister McGrath has written (“I Believe” – Exploring the Apostles Creed, pp 26):

Reason runs into difficulties when trying to cope with God. Alfred, Lord Tennyson made this point perfectly in his poem “The Ancient Sage”:

For nothing worthy proving can be proven,
Nor yet disproven.

Belief in God, it need hardly be added, rests on solid foundations- even if paradoxically, as Tennyson suggests, it cannot be proved. Atheists and Christians alike take their positions as matters of faith. The former may like to try and represent their position as objective and scientific, but it is actually nothing of the sort.

Modern atheists, of course, will see this thinking as malarkey, as it is an argument based outside of the modernist teacup, or at least removes the argument from the materialist epistemology that they rely on. The “New” Atheists cannot seem to function outside of modernism or outside of materialism, because that simply is the box in which they have put themselves in. To interact with them on any meaningful way, you have to get in their box (or teacup).

And why would I want to do that?

You see, I’ve encountered God. It’s not just that I’ve had some spiritual experience, but that I know and have relationship with God.  A modern atheist will, of course, toss this in the pile of non-observable claims and demand “evidence.” However, this presumes a Kantian or Platonic kind of dualism, which is certainly not a given.  Classifying God and all experiences of God into the large category of Noumena in order to dismiss it entirely is, I think, to commit serious philosophical error; but for one who is committed to atheism, it is convenient, pragmatic error.  Again, it requires a commitment to stay within the modernist teacup and to close your eyes should you ever attempt to look over the rim.

Modern atheists, however, are almost always not committed to requiring objective evidence in all areas of their lives; if they did, they would become “Spock”-like in their assessment of everything, including politics and relationships. Love would cease to be a many-splendored thing, and family life would have to be based on pragmatism rather than any emotional bond. It is contradictory for a materialist to claim “I know that I love my wife,” for he can know nothing of the kind; it is simply an unprovable claim by his own standards.  However, materialism becomes essential when fending off any claims of God (although it has been shown many times how internally inconsistent these arguments against God are).

Operating from a more consistent approach in which you accept that there are ways of knowing that are not limited to that which is observable and measurable – that is, living outside of the teacup and taking in the banquet that surrounds it – we can look to the arguments, claims, challenges and ridicule of modern atheism and see how inane they really are. While I believe it is possible to climb in the teacup and expose the errors from within modernism, for the Christian to “prove” his own faith, it is simply not necessary.

Are modernism and Christianity incompatible?

John Loftus claims that modernity is the Achilles’ Heel of Christianity, something I’ve discussed before, and addressed again in my “teacup” analogy.  Could he be right?

Of course, Loftus believes that modernism (the operative Western worldview which is based on rationalism, a belief in progress, and which depends heavily on the scientific method) is good. He would believe this, because he is as modern as can be, and this is what modernism teaches. It is all very circular: Modernism presumes that progress is inherently good. We as a species know more today than we did yesterday (but not as much as tomorrow).  Evolution is progressive, not regressive. Every day, in every way, we get better and better. It’s all a load of hooey, but even though you realize this, if you take time to really think through what you believe about a great many things, you will find that you, too, think this way. It’s in the water, it’s in the air – every day of our lives we eat and breathe modernism. Even what is being passed around as postmodernism is 90% basic modernism.  As Loftus once pointed out to me, even I’m modern.

However, I am aware of it.

I don’t think that everything about modernism is bad; for example, reason and logic are good, in its place. The scientific method, as a tool, is also good. However, what modernism did was to shrink the worldview around these elements, and added a belief in the inevitability of progress and a disdain for anything pre-modern, other than as an object of study. Progress says that the worldview enlarged; however, in reality, by dismissing everything it didn’t want to deal with, in actuality the worldview shrunk. (See the aforementioned Teacup Analogy).

As I have expressed in my Teacup Analogy, it is my current hypothesis that if you try to shrink Christianity to fit within the constraints of modernism, you’re in trouble, because in order to do so, the terms of modernism require you to not just shrink Christianity, but rather to chop off the corners of Christianity to fit within modernism’s round hole (sorry for switching metaphors). The problem, as I see it, is that modernism is an inadequate and defective worldview, and in order to address Christianity completely within modernism as Loftus does is to render Christianity inadequate and defective as well.

I am not sure, however, that the great apologists would agree with me.  I would be very interested to hear what someone like William Lane Craig (who I would tend to place at the top of that list) would say about my hypothesis.  Loftus, in the post I linked to above, has challenged Craig (and any other Christian apologist) to debate him on the issue of Christianity vs Modernism, which I think would be very interesting. Are Christianity and modernism incompatible, or can a complete Christianity survive entirely within the confince of modernism?

Epistemology in a teacup

Over the last couple of months I have been writing a series related to the issue of epistemology, the study of knowledge and knowing. Epistemology attempts to answer questions like: “What do we know?”, “How can we know something?”, and of course, “How do we know what we know?” When discussing issues of faith and belief, a common topic of debate between people of faith and people of science, it is important to recognize the various epistemological positions in play. The words “faith,” “belief,” “truth” and “knowledge” often have very different meanings, and as a result the conversations often become meaningless haggling (for example, read nearly any series of 20 or more comments on a blog dealing with science vs religion).

I am writing about epistemology not because I am an expert, but merely because I tend to think about these things. Over the last couple of years I have engaged a number of people in discussions concerning the relationship between science and faith, and have learned a few things along the way (including the above revelation about meaningless haggling…). For what ever reason, a few months ago I came up with the Teacup Model, which so far has proven to be fairly accurate, at least as to how I am seeing the current materialist v non-materialist conversation.

Imagine a coffee table (you can imagine your coffee table, if you’d like).  Upon the coffee table sits a teacup and saucer.  Go ahead, use your imagination.  The teacup represents reality as defined by philosophical materialism, which is essentially that which is material: that which has physical properties and that can be experienced by our 5 senses and which can theoretically be measured.  Nothing outside of the teacup can be detected or measured by scientific or mathematical methods.  To the materialist, therefore, nothing outside of the teacup exists. Those believing in God or some other kind of non-material reality are delusional, as they cannot prove by the methods available within the teacup that anything outside of the teacup exists. This position is, as defined, a self-fulfilling hypothesis.

For the non-materialists, it is fairly obvious that the teacup is not hovering in space, but is resting on a coffee table, and also sits on a saucer. They, in fact, do not stay within the teacup, but move back and forth between the teacup and the saucer.  It is quite obvious to them that the materialists are at the very least, myopic.  So, we now have two conflicting worldviews (or teacup views): one sees only what is in the teacup, the other sees both inside and outside of the teacup. For non-materialists, there are actually a number of different points of reference, depending on where you stand on the continuum of points from the inside of the teacup to the outside- and all the way out to the coffee table. Christian moderns tend to be on the inside of the teacup, but either with a view outside, or simply a belief that what they’ve been told about the outside is true.

This teacup model supports my hypothesis that a modern worldview, i.e. life inside the teacup, is not compatible with true Christianity. As John Loftus says, “I call our modern ways of thinking the Achilles’ heel of Christianity.” Although, as I’ve said before, when John says it, he is implying that modernism is both superior and correct. However, I don’t believe either; modernism is a philosophy that works akin to the soil in the path in the parable of the sower, “When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart.” (Matt 13:19)  Spending too much time immersed “in the teacup” – that is, looking at things from solely a modernist, materialist worldview – can result in blindness to things outside of the teacup. The logic that says that only the material is real seems reasonable, because by adopting a materialist, modernist worldview, all other input is discounted. The modernist worldview subjects any input, whether material or spiritual, to a rationalistic system of analysis that is only geared – at best – to deal with the material.  It is, again, a self-fulfilling exercise.

I am not for one moment saying that the teacup doesn’t exist. What I am proposing that a worldview which originates from within the teacup – that is, modernism and materialism – is inherently flawed as well as incompatible with Christianity. A proper worldview must see the teacup in its proper context; as I’ve pointed out in the past, Gödel’s Theorem (that a system cannot be properly comprehended from within the system) seems applicable to philosophical systems as well as to mathematical ones. And as Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Why a teacup?  I’m not sure; I don’t typically drink tea. However, if I had proposed a coffee cup, I would have been compelled to empty it.  ;-)

The question of unbelief 2.5

My friend David Hayward (a facebook friend, anyway…) has written a very interesting post on the 10 Movements of faith, most of which don’t sound very faith-like, using words like questioning, doubt, rejection, darkness, abandon and fear.  From a Western evangelical point of view, these are bad words, things that we either try to avoid, ignore, heal, or if nothing else fails, condemn.  However, perhaps David is right; perhaps we should not fear these, but recognize them as signs of growth.

I’ve seen these stages over the years in many friends and acquaintances.  I don’t know that everyone goes through all stages, at least concerning core beliefs. As I commented on David’s blog, I think the Western evangelical church is often geared towards keeping people at Stage 1, where people can be entertained, placated, and manipulated.  Growth  – as any parent can tell you – is often hard to deal with.  Then, some folks are just better at dealing with questions than others. And, as I have mentioned, it may not be our core faith that’s challenged, but the “baggage” that we often receive along with the Gospel, or perhaps even the nature of our faith.  Again, I think David is on to something: if we never go through these stages, we’re not growing.  As my favorite songwriter has written,

It’s not that hard
to figure it out
Where there’s no question,
there’s no doubt

- Glen Phillips, There Comes a Time

As we read through the Gospels, it seems that Jesus even encouraged questioning and doubt at times – consider the story of the Rich Young Ruler, for one, or the “eat my flesh” teaching.  A preacher that I heard many years ago said that God “offends the mind to reveal the heart.”  If we won’t challenge our own beliefs, sometimes God himself will.  The ancient church traditions – such as the Eastern Orthodox and Anglican – seem better able to deal with these stages of faith, and even anticipate and encourage them.  There is a wealth in the liturgical and mystical (speaking of the old mystical tradition, not what currently passes for mysticism) traditions that the evangelical church simply cannot understand; and perhaps it is this very issue – dealing with these “negative” stages of faith – that acts as a barrier between the old and new.

So, what happens when the church fails to recognize these stages as growth rather than “backsliding?”

At the close of his post, David asks

Can we consider the possibility that someone abandoning their faith and leaving the church could actually be a potential development in their spirituality, a stage where they are being beckoned to abandon their child-like faith to move toward a more mature and adult faith? And can we allow people to linger in any of these movements without time limits? I think these are important questions to consider.

Fundamentalism, and even more temperate versions of evangelicalism, leave no room for those who have to step outside of the program. If they fail to “experience” God like they are supposed to, or question some of the teaching, they are often condemned, or treated as immature (the “weak in faith”).  However, I think we need to ask ourselves, exactly who is “weak in faith,” those who dare risk their faith to deal with their questions, or those who insist on suppressing doubt?