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Do Lucifer and Prometheus represent similar archetypes?

- Both wanted to bring wisdom/knowledge to mankind, while the supreme God(s) wished otherwise.
- Both were punished with eternal torment and suffering
- Lucifer means 'light bringer' (or something like that?) and that's what Prometheus did with fire
- Both were among the first beings created by God(s) [angels/titans]

Or am I being too shallow in the comparison, and need to do more reading? Why is one seen as the greatest enemy to mankind, while the other is regarded as a kind of hero? Didn't they both do the same thing?
You're actually blending several unrelated figures and combining them into one.
The Snake in the Garden of Eden is not Lucifer, or Satan. In the original tradition it was thought simply
Second, for that matter, no where in the bible is does Lucifer refer to The Devil.
 
You may have already answered this question or one similar to it, and I'm sorry if this question has already been asked, but I have a bit of a problem seeing how the Christian God and free will can co-exist.

Whenever I ask the "why wouldn't God just make everyone believe in him" question, I get the same answer from every person: God created people with free will and they have to choose to believe in God. Okay, but I see a problem there. In theory, God is supposed to know everything, correct? Okay, then it seems reasonable to suggest that he doesn't only know everything that is happening, he knows everything that ever has happend, and everything that ever will happen. If he knows everything that ever will happen, he knows what choice you're going to make, which means it's predestined to happen, which means that you have no free will in the first place! I made this point in anoter OT thread, but no one seemed to get it. Can you tell me how it is possible for an all-knowing and all-powerful God to co-exist with free will?
 
Thea reasoning I've heard:

God is more pleased when people choose to worship It, plus faith is important (don't ask me why, prolly same answer I just gave).

Somehow it's not as satisfying to It's ego if It's creations are just forced to believe in It.

QUESTION: Why don't people refer to God as "It" instead of "Him?"
 
Except that if it's predestined, they don't "choose" it at all.
But only a very few Christians believe in predestination.

As for the reasons it's possible, theres a few:

One is the answer that God is external to time. Time is a feature of the universe, and a material property, and therefor must be a creation of God, rather then something he abides by. If he exists outside of time, there is no "before" or "after" for him.
To help you picture this if you can, imagine you're holding out a reel of Film. The film depicts a horse race. By looking at the reel you can see which horse won the race, but not before it won that race. You see the entire race before you at the same time.

The second argument is from perfect knowledge. Humans, with limited knowledge, can make predictions of the future from the present with remarkable accuracy when you think about it. I can predict when a man is going to try and punch the side of my head, I can predict when a toddler is going to fall and hurt themselves, the outcome of a horse race and I can predict the contents of a lecture I'm going to hear tommorow, and the comments of a few of he students. Now, we agree that this does not bring about predestination, or a violation of free will, but I can still predict your actions imperfectly. Now a being with perfect knowledge of your nature, and the nature of everyone around you, can have perfect predictive accuracy of your actions, which is distinct from foreknowledge.
 
ParkCungHee
Nice one! :goodjob:
I pretty much agree about the way you formulated how free choice can work.
We DON'T know how it REALLY works - but at least this is some kind of a plausible explanation. :cool:

Pete Atoms
All He wanted - was to give GOOD to someone.
So He created the Human.
Then the Human failed - and now we're stuck in the job of CLEANING his mess.
But it WILL end some (soon) day.
And we WILL see what GOOD was (and still is) in store for us from God.
Nobody HAS to believe in God - but the ones who do will just get a better share of the pie. :king:
 
Are there arguments against the existence of the soul?

Of course - again, if by "soul" you mean a distinct and separable spiritual substance. The main arguments are (1) since pretty much all mental functions seem to be performed by the brain, any "soul" wouldn't have much to do, and if it did survive the body's death, it wouldn't really be you at all; (2) if the soul is spiritual and body is physical, then it is hard to see how they could interact; (3) assuming that other animals, or at least most other animals, don't have souls, it is hard to see how something quite distinct from the body could have evolved. (2) is normally given as the major objection to Cartesian dualism, but I'm inclined to think that (3) is a more powerful one.

Do all Christian Theologians see this linking between the mind and the soul?

I think that the traditional view is that the mind is part of the soul, but not the whole soul. It was a key tenet of Origenism that the mind is the soul, or rather, that the soul was originally pure mind; and that non-cognitive elements of the psyche, such as passions, are not really part of you at all. They are like barnacles encrusting a ship, as Plato said. Origenists therefore held that salvation involves, among other things, getting rid of those elements, restoring the soul to its status as pure mind, and returning it to God, who is also pure mind. I am not sure off-hand, and cannot find out right now, whether this was one of the Origenist doctrines condemned in 553.

Because it has always seemed to me that the mind must be distinct from the soul, because the mind can be changed by strictly physical means.

That only follows if you assume that the soul cannot be influenced by the body, but that is not a Christian belief. On the contrary, the soul and the body influence each other all the time, at least on traditional Christianity. The two main alternative views to that are occasionalism, associated with Malebranche and with some medieval Muslim theologians, according to which God moves the body directly in accordance with the soul's wishes and conveys to the soul the perceptions of the body; and the pre-ordained harmony of Leibniz, according to which nothing influences anything, but everything was programmed by God at the start to unfold in a series of events which only look as if they are influencing each other.

Now of course, the fact that it's hard to see how a physical body and a spiritual soul could influence each other at all, if they have no properties in common, is one of the main objections to the whole idea - and indeed that is one of the reasons for the emergence of those alternative theories, on which they don't influence each other after all.

Do Lucifer and Prometheus represent similar archetypes?

- Both wanted to bring wisdom/knowledge to mankind, while the supreme God(s) wished otherwise.
- Both were punished with eternal torment and suffering
- Lucifer means 'light bringer' (or something like that?) and that's what Prometheus did with fire
- Both were among the first beings created by God(s) [angels/titans]

Or am I being too shallow in the comparison, and need to do more reading? Why is one seen as the greatest enemy to mankind, while the other is regarded as a kind of hero? Didn't they both do the same thing?

As ParkCungHee said, the "Lucifer" character you describe is an amalgam. We've already discussed this a bit recently - see here and following. So the simple answer to your question is that you're looking at it the wrong way around. You're assuming that the myth of Lucifer came first, and then the interpretation of Lucifer as evil. In fact it was the other way around. Satan, or the devil, is presented as evil (at least in the New Testament), and later mythologising built the narrative of Lucifer that you describe around that figure.

Where does he deny that?

413a3-5 said:
It is not unclear that the soul - or certain parts of it, if it naturally has parts - is not separable from the body.

My philosophy professor says that Aristotle thinks the mind continues to exist after the body dies.

Edit: This is what he offers as proof of that (the last 2 paragraphs):

That's a possible interpretation, although it doesn't seem to me that Aristotle is saying that mind could survive the body, only that it is distinct from it (in some way). But I don't know how best to interpret that.

By the way, can I cite your internet posts as a secondary source in my paper? You are an awesome independent expert.

That would be a terrible habit to get into. You should never cite anything that isn't from a properly authoritative source.

What's your general opinion of Richard Swinburne?

He's one of the most intimidatingly clever people I've met. But I am not convinced by his arguments or general approach. In my view the attempt to argue for Christianity on an evidentialist basis is pretty much doomed to failure, and a Plantinga-style approach of arguing for its rationality on a non-evidentialist basis seems a lot more fruitful - at least to me.

You may have already answered this question or one similar to it, and I'm sorry if this question has already been asked, but I have a bit of a problem seeing how the Christian God and free will can co-exist.

Whenever I ask the "why wouldn't God just make everyone believe in him" question, I get the same answer from every person: God created people with free will and they have to choose to believe in God. Okay, but I see a problem there. In theory, God is supposed to know everything, correct? Okay, then it seems reasonable to suggest that he doesn't only know everything that is happening, he knows everything that ever has happend, and everything that ever will happen. If he knows everything that ever will happen, he knows what choice you're going to make, which means it's predestined to happen, which means that you have no free will in the first place! I made this point in anoter OT thread, but no one seemed to get it. Can you tell me how it is possible for an all-knowing and all-powerful God to co-exist with free will?

This is a very, very complex issue - partly because there are different kinds of necessity. It's been discussed for centuries. See Aquinas' rather bewildering discussion here.

One version of the argument which isn't yours goes something like this:

(1) Necessarily, anything that God foresees will happen, will happen.
(2) Therefore, anything that God foresees will happen, will necessarily happen.
(3) Anything that happens necessarily cannot be a free action.
(4) Therefore, anything that God foresees cannot be a free action.
(5) God foresees everything.
(6) Therefore, there are no free actions.

Aquinas rightly pointed out that this argument is invalid. The shift from (1) to (2) is where the error lies. You cannot argue from "Necessarily, if X then Y" to "If X then necessarily Y" - the necessity in the original proposition covers the whole proposition, not the consequent. What this means is this. There are certain things that are necessarily true of God - among which is his infallibility. If God exists, everything he knows must be true, and this is absolute necessity. It doesn't follow, however, that the things he knows themselves must be true by the same kind of absolute necessity. In other words, if I mow my lawn tomorrow, then it's absolutely necessarily the case that God knows this, but it doesn't follow from this that it's absolutely necessarily the case that I mow my lawn.

However, the problem is that there are other kinds of necessity. Consider the following claims:

(1) 2+2=4
(2) I had crunchy cereal for breakfast today.

The first of these is necessarily true, by absolute necessity. There is no possible world in which it is not the case that 2+2=4; it just has to be true. The second claim is not necessarily true in the same way. I needn't have had crunchy cereal today. There are many possible worlds in which I had porridge instead. So it is a contingent fact, not a necessary one (i.e. it might have been different). However, from my point of view now, it has a sort of necessity to it, in that I can't change it. Because it is a fact about the past, it is now fixed, and it is impossible to make it so that it isn't true. So it has a sort of de facto necessity.

As I see it, your argument purports to show that, if God exists, then all events, including all creaturely actions, have this second kind of de facto necessity. It goes like this:

(1) Whatever God knows, is definitely true (because God can't be mistaken).
(2) So if God knows that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I will definitely mow my lawn tomorrow.
(3) If I perform an action freely, that means that I must have the power not to perform it.
(4) Any action that I will definitely do, I do not have the power not to do it.
(5) So if God knows that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not have the power not to do it.
(6) So if God knows that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not do it freely.
(7) God does know that I will mow my lawn tomorrow.
(8) So I do not mow my lawn freely.

And the same for any other act which I, or anyone else, actually performs. It follows that there are no free acts.

The point is that all facts about the past have de facto necessity, even if they don't have absolute necessity, like the fact about what I had for breakfast this morning. We can think of God's knowledge as past, if we think about what God knew yesterday, for example, or indeed from the first moment of creation. But because God's knowledge encompasses the whole of time, that means that his past knowledge includes facts about future events. Because his knowledge is (a) past and (b) infallible, that means that the de facto necessity that applies to his knowledge (in virtue of being in the past) transfers to the future events that he knows about (in virtue of his knowledge being infallible). It follows, then, that if God foreknows future events, then while those future events may not have absolute necessity like 2+2=4 does, they do have the same de facto necessity that all past events do. That means that we cannot change them, and that means that we do not do them freely, if freedom involves the power to do otherwise.

This was basically Martin Luther's reasoning. He concluded that human beings do not have free will, at least not in this sense of free will, and he engaged in a rather polemical argument with Erasmus over the subject.

It's important to recognise that none of this has anything to do with predestination. The above reasoning is based solely on the supposition that God knows what people will do in the future - not that he decides what they're going to do, let alone that he forces them to do it. It depends solely upon God's role as a passive observer. As long as you have an observer who is omniscient, who knows what will happen in the future with perfect reliability, then the argument goes through. That observer doesn't have to do anything.

In my view, the argument is powerful. But it is possibly too powerful, for reasons I'll explain below. Here are the common responses:

(1) We don't have free will after all. This is to accept the conclusion of the argument, as Luther did.
(2) We do have free will, but it doesn't depend upon our having the ability to do other than what we do. For example, we may have compatibilist free will. This would mean rejecting premise (3) of the argument and therefore denying its conclusion.
(3) The nature of free acts is such that they are intrinsically unknowable. That is, if tomorrow I freely choose to mow the lawn, then it is intrinsically impossible for anyone to know this for certain today - even me, or even an omniscient being. There is just no truth of the matter until I make that decision. Omniscience means knowing only what actually can be known. So even if God is omniscient, he doesn't know the future free acts of human beings. It may be that, in creating free creatures, God voluntarily restricts his knowledge of the future. (This is Richard Swinburne's view.) So premise (7) of the argument is denied.
(4) God is outside time, so all this talk of "foreknowledge" and "future" events is inappropriate to start with.

This (4) is perhaps the most obvious response, but it needs some careful thought. Does it actually change the argument? It seems not, because we can rewrite it in a way that does not commit us to the view that God is inside time. In fact, the argument as I stated it above doesn't actually contain any statements to the effect that God or his knowledge are inside time. It depends only on the fact that God's knowledge of my actions is complete and infallible, not on the fact that his knowledge is temporally located before those actions or before my point of view right now.

Also, consider this. From my point of view, my action of mowing the lawn tomorrow is in the future; from God's point of view, if he is outside time, it is neither past, present, nor future. As ParkCungHee said, it is like he is looking at a reel of film, seeing all moments at the same time. So he doesn't have foreknowledge at all. However, there are still temporally-bound facts about his knowledge. For example, it is true today (Wednesday) that God timelessly knows that I mow the lawn on Thursday. It was also true yesterday (Tuesday) that God timelessly knows that I mow the lawn on Thursday. Now remember what I said about past events having de facto necessity, meaning that they can't be changed. If it was true yesterday that God (timelessly) knows something, then that fact has de facto necessity. So even if God's knowledge is outside time, it can still be seen to have the de facto necessity of facts about the past, because there are facts about the past about God's timeless knowledge. So we end up with the same problem.

However, if we're going to admit facts of this kind into our reasoning, then we can actually get rid of God altogether and still have a problem. Consider the following, rewritten version of the argument:

(1') Whatever is a true proposition expresses a fact which is definitely true.
(2') So if it is a true proposition that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I will definitely mow my lawn tomorrow.
(3') If I perform an action freely, that means that I must have the power not to perform it.
(4') Any action that I will definitely do, I do not have the power not to do it.
(5') So if it is a true proposition that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not have the power not to do it.
(6') So if it is a true proposition that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not do it freely.
(7') It is a true proposition that I will mow my lawn tomorrow.
(8') So I do not mow my lawn freely.

You can see that I've just substituted "God knows..." with "It is a true proposition that...", and the argument still seems to work just as well. This is what I meant when I said that the argument about God's foreknowledge and freedom is almost too strong. It doesn't simply show that freedom is incompatible with God's foreknowledge. It seems even to show that freedom is impossible in its own right, never mind God. I would conclude that although the problem is framed in terms of God's foreknowledge, it's not really about God's foreknowledge, or God's timeless knowledge, or even God at all. It's more about the nature of freedom. If there is a problem here, it's a problem with this definition of freedom, not with its compatibility with the existence of an omniscient God.

QUESTION: Why don't people refer to God as "It" instead of "Him?"

I suppose because God is conceived as personal, and we don't normally call persons "it". Of course God is not supposed to be male - the male pronoun is just convention.

But only a very few Christians believe in predestination.

That depends on what you mean by "predestination"; I would say the majority of Christians believe that God determines what's going to happen. Catholics believe that this is compatible even with libertarian free will, while Reformed Christians believe that it is not, and reject libertarian free will. If "predestination" means that God determines what's going to happen, then that is probably the majority Christian view, but if it means that we do not have libertarian free will, it is the minority one. As I said, though, the problem that was raised about free will was about God's knowledge, not about predestination.

The second argument is from perfect knowledge. Humans, with limited knowledge, can make predictions of the future from the present with remarkable accuracy when you think about it. I can predict when a man is going to try and punch the side of my head, I can predict when a toddler is going to fall and hurt themselves, the outcome of a horse race and I can predict the contents of a lecture I'm going to hear tommorow, and the comments of a few of he students. Now, we agree that this does not bring about predestination, or a violation of free will, but I can still predict your actions imperfectly. Now a being with perfect knowledge of your nature, and the nature of everyone around you, can have perfect predictive accuracy of your actions, which is distinct from foreknowledge.

I don't know if I'm really convinced by that, for two reasons. First, God's knowledge is supposed to differ from ours not only in its extent but in the way he acquires it. God is supposed to know everything intuitively, by a single rational act. He doesn't have to work things out the way we do. So on that understanding of God, I don't see how one can talk about "predictive accuracy" at all. God doesn't predict what's going to happen on the basis of what he sees now; he doesn't even do so perfectly. If he knows what's going to happen, it's because he just knows.

Some Christian thinkers disagree, of course. I mentioned Richard Swinburne. He thinks that God is within time, not outside time, and that although he knows all facts about the past and the present, he does not have such universal knowledge of the future, because the existence of free will makes the future intrinsically uncertain. However, Swinburne's God is very good at guessing the future because of his perfect understanding of the past and the future. So he has very good predictive accuracy, although it is necessarily not perfect.

My second objection is that I don't see any practical difference between having knowledge of the future and having perfect predictive accuracy of the future. If God, on your conception, can predict what I'm going to do perfectly, then doesn't that mean that he knows what I'm going to do? And in that case, kill fire's problem still arises, because it was a problem based solely on the idea that God knows what we're going to do (it is irrelevant to that problem how God knows it). If, conversely, having perfect predictive accuracy does not entail knowledge, then what's perfect about it?
 
Some Christian thinkers disagree, of course. I mentioned Richard Swinburne. He thinks that God is within time, not outside time, and that although he knows all facts about the past and the present, he does not have such universal knowledge of the future, because the existence of free will makes the future intrinsically uncertain. However, Swinburne's God is very good at guessing the future because of his perfect understanding of the past and the future. So he has very good predictive accuracy, although it is necessarily not perfect.

My second objection is that I don't see any practical difference between having knowledge of the future and having perfect predictive accuracy of the future. If God, on your conception, can predict what I'm going to do perfectly, then doesn't that mean that he knows what I'm going to do? And in that case, kill fire's problem still arises, because it was a problem based solely on the idea that God knows what we're going to do (it is irrelevant to that problem how God knows it). If, conversely, having perfect predictive accuracy does not entail knowledge, then what's perfect about it?
I suppose then my argument was similar to Swineburns. Though perhaps I didn't consider the difference in Perfect Accuracy and very good predictive accuracy. I don't see a fundemental difference between accuracy 9/10ths of the time and 10/10ths, that to me seems a distinction of extent, rather then of nature.
I would hold that perfect predictive accuracy is not the same thing as knowledge of the future. Few would argue that a physicist armed with Newtonian mechanics predicted the path of an object is the same thing as a man who has just watched the path of the object, despite the fact that (theoretically) the Newtonian Physicist can chart that course perfectly.
 
I suppose then my argument was similar to Swineburns. Though perhaps I didn't consider the difference in Perfect Accuracy and very good predictive accuracy. I don't see a fundemental difference between accuracy 9/10ths of the time and 10/10ths, that to me seems a distinction of extent, rather then of nature.

Yes, indeed. However, if you have only 9/10ths accuracy, you don't have knowledge or certainty. If I'm only 9/10ths certain that something will happen, then I may know that it will probably happen; I may even believe that it will happen; but I can't really be said to know that it will happen. However, if I have 10/10ths accuracy, then, provided I know that I have 10/10ths accuracy, I must be certain that the thing will happen and I can surely be said to know that it will happen. Why wouldn't I?

I would hold that perfect predictive accuracy is not the same thing as knowledge of the future. Few would argue that a physicist armed with Newtonian mechanics predicted the path of an object is the same thing as a man who has just watched the path of the object, despite the fact that (theoretically) the Newtonian Physicist can chart that course perfectly.

There may be a difference, but is it a relevant difference? The man who watches the object knows its path because he has seen it. The physicist knows its path because he has calculated it. Why would we call the first of these "knowledge" and not the second? Indeed, don't astronomers claim to "know" all kinds of things about celestial objects and their locations from calculating in precisely this way? Don't we know the distance from the sun to the earth, for example, even though we know it only by calculating, using our knowledge of physics? It's not something that's really observable, after all. So a Swinburnian God who predicts future events based on his perfect knowledge of the present, combined with his perfect knowledge of the laws of physics, can surely be said to know those future facts that he predicts with 100% accuracy. If those facts include the actions of creatures, then I don't see why we wouldn't say that he knows what they are. If (as Swinburne himself holds) God's predictions about creaturely actions are not 100% accurate, then he probably couldn't be said to know them, I agree. But conversely, if he can legitimately be said not to know them, then surely his predictions can't be 100% accurate.

Interestingly, Swinburne's view of God as within time, having perfect knowledge of the past and present but only educated predictions about the future, was anticipated by the Socinians. A striking thing about Swinburne (given his adherence to fairly conservative Orthodox doctrine) is that he does seem to come close to heretical views on a number of matters, of which this is one (the Socinians were rather notorious heretics). Another is his christology, which is very similar to Apollinarius'. Certainly Swinburne himself would argue that his christology is sufficiently different from that of Apollinarius to avoid the charge of Apollinarianism, and I assume that he considers his theism to be sufficiently distinct from that of Socinus too, although I haven't read him in detail on this subject.
 
So when did sin first take place?

> When Adam and Eve bit the fruit
> When God realized what had happened
> When Eve was swayed by the serpent and convinced Adam to do likewise (when they were tempted, and made the decision to eat the fruit but hadn't done so yet).

The only way it would make sense is if it is option 1 right? But than humans would had to have been designed to be susceptible to temptation in the first place right? Each one would have different implications concerning what 'sin' is, right?
 
There may be a difference, but is it a relevant difference?
I would say the distinction lies in the affairs of free will. Perfect predictive knowledge to me it seems, seems to not conflict with the idea of Free Will. You are free to make your decision, but perfect knowledge of yourself (which even you yourself lack) allows for an understanding of what choice you shall make, based on the nature of your mind, body, and possibly soul. While a sort of Calvinistic God of Predeterminism incompatible with Libertarian Free-Will, not only knows the choice you shall make, but allready knows that you have/will make it.
To use your astronomy comparisons, I don't feel measuring the distance from the earth and the sun is quite accurate. We have experience of the sun. It is more like the fact that we have measured (roughly) the date at which the sun will explode and (roughly) what this will look like. Ignoring the roughess of these projections, is this not different from an unfortunate man floating in space at some future point, who sees with his own eyes, and feels with his own flesh the sun exploding? They both can be said to be knowledge of the sun exploding, but are they not knowledges of a different type?
 
From the Ask a Young Earth Creationist 2-thread:

Atheism is a religion in the same way baldness is a hair colour.

I quite like that statement. It's so easy everyone can understand it, and it gets the exact point across. :)

It's false, though. You can have a religion that incorporates - or is consistent with - atheism; but you can't have a hair colour that incorporates or is consistent with baldness (assuming that baldness involves a total lack of hair).

Atheism is not a religion or the absence of religion, just as theism is not a religion or the absence of religion. Both theism and atheism are beliefs. A religion is a complex sociological phenomenon which involves, among many other things, beliefs. Any given religion may number theism among its beliefs or indeed atheism (such as certain forms of Buddhism). Most religions don't number either.

However, in the west we're so used to the Abrahamic religions, for which theism is a very important component, that we tend to equate theism and religion, and think that atheism is the absence of religion. But that's just western bias, and it's not even true among all western religions anyway - there's such as thing as Christian atheism, for example.

Well, yes, lots of what you say here is true, of course. Atheism is without god, not without religion. I must admit that I use it as shorthand for without religion, even though I am well aware that you can have religions without gods.

However, I have to agree with you on some key points:
- I'll postulate that theism do require a form of religion to exist in, even if that religion is only the belief in the "theo" itself.
- I'll also postulate that atheism is not, in itself, a belief.
- I'll also state that I believe that most religions are theistic, even if those gods are not called more than spirits.

But your critique of me equating atheism with baldness still stands. I think it would be more correct to label myself non-religious, non-spiritual or maybe even non-believing - in the religious/spiritual sense. What would be the Greek form of that?

Thus, I claim that I am an atheist, just as much as I am an a-teapot-ist. I do not hold an active belief in or against either, except for the short time where I have to entertain the idea about such concepts. To my daily life such thoughts of gods or teapots are simply non-existent, neither being in the supportive nor dismissive nature. Just not there.

PS: I'm a somewhat intrigued about that Christian atheism, as it seems to me to be an oxymoron if I've ever seen one. Could you expand a bit on it?
On my non-religiousness / non-belief, in reply to another poster, and not actually part of my discussion with Plotinus, but kept for comprehensiveness:
Spoiler :
If you bring the idea up, I will dismiss actively just as I dismiss the teapot around Jupiter, unicorns, ghosts and toothfairies. However, other than that, I hold no beliefs concerning such things.

I have Christian parents. I grew up in a Christian home. As far back as I can remember, I have thus believed in God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost. This literary belief (as it was in the beginning - my parents should be overjoyed I never really read the Bible at that stage, I would have been scared out of my skin!) was gradually worn away by growing up, learning how people work and learning about the world and finding the scientific answers to be the most correct ones. But I still considered myself a Christian, and a believer. 'Of course I believed!'

Thus it came to pass that I was 19, and walking home from the store. Some train of thought took me to the existence of God and I suddenly realised that there was no belief there! Nothing what so ever!

It was not that I disregarded it, or changed my belief. I simply had no belief about God or anything religious! There is no reason whatsoever to even entertain such an idea that I just don't do it.

This is not an idea that there is no God, or a belief that there is no God. This isn't an 'active atheism'. It is the non-existence of any concern about anything religious.

So, to avoid being corrected by Plotinus, I am not an atheist as such. I am non-religious.

It is on a whole other level than any kind of religion or religious/spiritual belief.


If you think that the belief that God exists itself counts as a religion, then yes, that would be (trivially) true. But I don't see any reason to think that, because a religion is normally more than just a system of beliefs, let alone a single belief. One could believe that, as it happens, there is a God, but not be remotely interested in him or do anything about it (I suppose this would be much like deism). But I think it would be artificial to call that "religion". As I said, a religion is a sociological phenomenon, involving beliefs but many other elements as well. If I believe that ghosts exist, does that count as a religion? Surely not - so why does it change if we make the object of my belief God instead?
Of course correct.

I hope you will forgive me for being lax with my usage of terms, and even carelessly ignorant. One could of course believe such a thing as a god or gods existing and not have it be part of a religious setting. I just find it hard to imagine any real people actually doing so.

That depends on how you define "atheism", of course. I think there are at least two main definitions:

(1) An absence of belief in God.
(2) A belief that there is no God.

Personally I think that (1) is hard to distinguish from agnosticism, so I would take "atheism" to mean (2). That's certainly how it's usually used in philosophy (although Antony Flew used it with the meaning of (1) in his Presumption of atheism, causing all kinds of confusion). When people present arguments for atheism, that normally means that they are arguing that there is no God, not arguing that they don't believe in him.

So if you're going to use "atheism" in sense (1), then yes, you're right that it's not a belief. But in sense (2) it is certainly a belief.
Again, I've been careless in my usage of a term I see.

Though - also again - I will disagree slightly with you. I would argue that (1) is whatever I hold, if such a non-existence can be said to be held. Furthermore, I would add '(1.75) A belief that one doesn't or can't know that there is or isn't a God' as the meaning of agnosticism, and reserve (2) for what I would call a literal atheist.

The majority of people who may consider themselves atheists, if asked, would say - I believe - that there are no gods, that they hold no belief in gods or that the believe there are no gods, and consider these three answers identical, if not in actual meaning, then at least in content.

One wouldn't normally call that theism, though, because "theism" normally means belief not simply in supernatural beings but in a single particular supernatural being who is omnipotent, omniscient, and morally perfect, or at least tolerably close to that definition. It would be very unusual to call Shinto "theistic", for example, on the basis that kami count as "gods".
Again, I suspect you know more what you talk about than I do. :)

However, there is still some ambiguity to the term 'theism', is there not? A belief in a pantheon such as the ancient Greek or Mesopotamian ones could be labeled as a theistic belief, no?

Erm - adoxist, perhaps?
Has a nice ring to it. :)

But since I can't find the word anywhere on the net, would you please enlighten a barbarian on the different stem-parts of the word and what they mean?

It's normally called "Christian humanism" (not to be confused with Christians who are humanists in the Renaissance sense, which is what you'll find if you look this term up on Wikipedia) and is associated with the Cambridge theologian Don Cupitt and the Sea of Faith movement within the Church of England, which you can look up for much more detailed information. There was a well-publicised case some years ago concerning Anthony Freeman, an Anglican priest who was associated with the movement and who was sacked for not believing in God. Briefly, Cupitt and those who subscribe to his views believe that "God" refers not to an externally existing object but to one's own attitudes. To say that you "believe in" God means not that you think an entity answering to a certain description is floating around somewhere, but that you take certain values to be central to yourself. So on this view, theistic language and indeed religious doctrine as a whole boils down to ethics and nothing more. Christian humanists thus use traditional Christian language, rituals, and other elements, but interpret them in a non-metaphysical, non-supernaturalist way. They would say that they certainly believe in God, so they are not atheists in the sense of not believing in God; but they do not believe that there is a thing called God, so they are atheists in that sense (and that's certainly how Anthony Freeman was viewed by the press, which was unsurprisingly uninterested in subtle theological nuance!).
There is actually a Danish priest who also declared that he does not believe in God, about a year or so ago. He has kept his job however, as the Danish Church has not found a reason to sack him, as his non-belief is not keeping him from doing a good job as a Christian priest. :)
Don't know if he's in any way connected with these Christian Atheists/Humanists you're talking about however.

The bolded part is still - for what that's worth - far to subtly theologically nuanced for me to comprehend yet.

How do they explain the communion? If it is not Jesus' flesh and blood, etc? (Not that traditional Christianity really explains it very well either, but it seems normal to me, as I was brought up Christian.)

And most profoundly: How can they believe in God and not believe in a thing called God? :confused:
 
If I perform an action freely, that means that I must have the power not to perform it.

If I perform an action freely, that merely means that I had the power to do so; the opposite, in my opinion, is not entailed. I do not think I need, as part of free will, the ability to do the opposite to what I actually do. If the 8-point argument were valid, moreover, it would be the case that my inability to change the past, let alone the future, signified a curbing of my free will. If I will not do something, the existence of my free will does not entail that I should be able to do everything. I can't grow wings and fly; I can't transfigure myself into a fish; I can't even drive; I cannot amend the past; to regard these disabilities as impediments to my free will is absurd. Therefore, why should I be able to contradict the future as part of my free will?



Also, if I mow the lawn out of my free will this evening, it is a true proposition that I have the power to mow the lawn.

Therefore, I have the power to mow the lawn on a day in a month's time provided that the conditions are functionally identical. The fact that I don't do this in a month's time, despite the fact that the grass is equally long and the weather is the same, is quite compatible with my previous assertion that I have the power, unrestricted by time itself, to mow the lawn.

Thus, free will is not bound up with time as that argument demands it should be, and so the argument is invalid. I can mow the lawn, but that doesn't demand that I will be doing it in precisely five seconds time. I can mow the lawn whenever I want, but to start doing it in precisely five seconds time would be impossible to time exactly anyhow. Therefore, my power to do something is not identical to my ability to do it at a particular time.
 
So when did sin first take place?

According to whom? You're talking about Adam and Eve, but neither of us believes in them. Are you talking about when sin occurred according to the author of the story? In which case, which author, given that that story probably went through many versions before it reached the form in which we have it? Or you talking about the views of later interpreters? In which case, which ones?

> When Adam and Eve bit the fruit
> When God realized what had happened
> When Eve was swayed by the serpent and convinced Adam to do likewise (when they were tempted, and made the decision to eat the fruit but hadn't done so yet).

The only way it would make sense is if it is option 1 right?

No, I'd say that option 3 seems pretty reasonable. In fact that is the traditional Christian view, going back to Augustine, that sin is in the intent rather than the action. If I intend to shoot you, but miss, then I sinned just as much as if I'd actually hit you, because sin is all about the intent. Conversely, if I don't intend to shoot you but accidentally hit you while aiming at a target, I haven't sinned (although perhaps I was sinfully negligent, but that's a different matter).

But than humans would had to have been designed to be susceptible to temptation in the first place right?

Presumably so.

Each one would have different implications concerning what 'sin' is, right?

Yes. Your (1) would put sin at the level of action, your (2) would put it at the level of being found out, and your (3) would put it at the level of intent.

I would say the distinction lies in the affairs of free will. Perfect predictive knowledge to me it seems, seems to not conflict with the idea of Free Will. You are free to make your decision, but perfect knowledge of yourself (which even you yourself lack) allows for an understanding of what choice you shall make, based on the nature of your mind, body, and possibly soul. While a sort of Calvinistic God of Predeterminism incompatible with Libertarian Free-Will, not only knows the choice you shall make, but allready knows that you have/will make it.

I still really don't see what the difference is. A God who can predict what I'm going to do with perfect accuracy, and who knows that his predictions have perfect accuracy, knows what I'm going to do! He knows the choice I will make and he knows that I will make it. (To be honest I don't see any difference at all between those two things.)

Predestination means that God doesn't merely know what we do - he makes us do it. But that wasn't what kill fire was talking about at all. His problem stemmed purely from the notion of God knowing what we're going to do. That's not predestination. The argument is that if there exists a person who knows with perfect certainty what we will do, then we do not act freely. The knowledge is enough to generate the problem - the omniscient being doesn't have to do anything, let alone force us to act in a certain way.

To use your astronomy comparisons, I don't feel measuring the distance from the earth and the sun is quite accurate. We have experience of the sun. It is more like the fact that we have measured (roughly) the date at which the sun will explode and (roughly) what this will look like. Ignoring the roughess of these projections, is this not different from an unfortunate man floating in space at some future point, who sees with his own eyes, and feels with his own flesh the sun exploding? They both can be said to be knowledge of the sun exploding, but are they not knowledges of a different type?

There's a good case for saying that the spaceman acquires knowledge that the astronomer lacks. He acquires the knowledge of what it is like to be floating near the sun when it explodes. This is the claim which is at the heart of Frank Jackson's knowledge argument for dualism, which I mentioned a few posts ago: when you experience something, you acquire a new kind of knowledge about it, which is distinct from the knowledge that you acquire in other ways. However, I would say that the spaceman's knowledge that the sun explodes is no different from the astronomer's, although they are acquired in different ways. The difference between them is that the spaceman acquires extra knowledge on top of this.

All the same, I'm not sure it really matters. The point is that the astronomer does have knowledge, doesn't he? Assuming that his predictions are infallible, he knows that the sun will explode at a given time. You can say that this is knowledge of a different kind from that of the spaceman who actually experiences the explosion, if you like, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that the astronomer does have that knowledge.

In fact, come to think of it, we don't have to call it "knowledge" at all. We can rewrite the argument without it:

(1) Whatever God predicts with 100% accuracy, is definitely true (because a prediction with 100% accuracy can't be mistaken).
(2) So if God predicts with 100% accuracy that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I will definitely mow my lawn tomorrow.
(3) If I perform an action freely, that means that I must have the power not to perform it.
(4) Any action that I will definitely do, I do not have the power not to do it.
(5) So if God predicts with 100% accuracy that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not have the power not to do it.
(6) So if God predicts with 100% accuracy that I will mow my lawn tomorrow, I do not do it freely.
(7) God does predict with 100% accuracy that I will mow my lawn tomorrow.
(8) So I do not mow my lawn freely.

The argument still works the same, and as before, doesn't require any kind of commitment to predestination.

I hope you will forgive me for being lax with my usage of terms, and even carelessly ignorant. One could of course believe such a thing as a god or gods existing and not have it be part of a religious setting. I just find it hard to imagine any real people actually doing so.

I think you'd be surprised. I suppose a high-profile case of this was Antony Flew, who changed his mind about the probable existence of God, but who didn't become remotely religious as a result. And there were plenty of deists in the eighteenth century. Some (mainly in the English-speaking world) saw themselves as reforming Christians, so you might say they were part of a religious setting; but others (mainly in the French-speaking world) saw themselves as anti-Christian, so the case is less clear-cut. In fact, one might say that just because someone calls themselves a Christian, that doesn't make them really religious. Kant believed in God and counted himself a Christian, but he didn't engage in any religious activities and always managed to be "indisposed" whenever his position as rector of his university required him to be present at a church service. Does that count as belief in God within a religious setting? I don't think one can be clear-cut.

Again, I've been careless in my usage of a term I see.

Though - also again - I will disagree slightly with you. I would argue that (1) is whatever I hold, if such a non-existence can be said to be held. Furthermore, I would add '(1.75) A belief that one doesn't or can't know that there is or isn't a God' as the meaning of agnosticism, and reserve (2) for what I would call a literal atheist.

The majority of people who may consider themselves atheists, if asked, would say - I believe - that there are no gods, that they hold no belief in gods or that the believe there are no gods, and consider these three answers identical, if not in actual meaning, then at least in content.

You're probably right, but of course, those three answers aren't identical in meaning or content. Hence the problem: people tend to use words inexactly, and if you try to use them more exactly, you won't match common usage. There's not much we can do about this.

However, there is still some ambiguity to the term 'theism', is there not? A belief in a pantheon such as the ancient Greek or Mesopotamian ones could be labeled as a theistic belief, no?

Perhaps. I wouldn't tend to call that "theism"; I think that "theism" means belief in God rather than merely gods, but perhaps I'm biased because of how the term is usually used in the traditions I'm familiar with.

Has a nice ring to it. :)

But since I can't find the word anywhere on the net, would you please enlighten a barbarian on the different stem-parts of the word and what they mean?

Doxa is Greek for belief - as in doxology, orthodox, heterodox, and so on. So if you don't believe, that might make you an a-doxist, since a is the negative prefix!

There is actually a Danish priest who also declared that he does not believe in God, about a year or so ago. He has kept his job however, as the Danish Church has not found a reason to sack him, as his non-belief is not keeping him from doing a good job as a Christian priest. :)
Don't know if he's in any way connected with these Christian Atheists/Humanists you're talking about however.

The Danes sound very sensible in these matters!

The bolded part is still - for what that's worth - far to subtly theologically nuanced for me to comprehend yet.

Here are some quotes from the last, summing-up chapters of Don Cupitt's The sea of faith (which is a pretty easy book to read, being intended for a general readership and based on a TV series):

Don Cupitt said:
At the end of chapter 2 we ran into a paradox: René Descartes had an objective metaphysical God whose existence he had proved by pure reason, and yet he was not a conspicuously religious man at all. Blaise Pascal, by contrast, was intensely religious, the sort of person who will pay whatever price is asked for the saving kind of faith that his soul demands - and the price turned out to be that he must forfeit any rationally grounded assurance of objectivity. Here, we suggested, was an early example of a theme that is often met in modern religious thought: the claims of theological realism and the claims of religious seriousness pull in opposite directions. That is why a line of German theologians influenced by Kierkegaard have declared war on what they called objectifying theology, as if it were bad for religion that God should become too real.

How can this be? If we look back at Kierkegaard, the answer seems to be that if you have a God who provides for you an objective metaphysical resolution of the spiritual tensions of your life, then he makes you less religious. You have offloaded the priorities on to God, and you let him do the work of reconciling them; whereas Kierkegaard regards this as paganism and says that in Christianity the movement is in the opposite direction. For him, Christianity demands that we become subjective. The polarities and tensions of life ought not to be pushed away and resolved metaphysically, but should be internalised and experienced subjectively to the highest degree, so that we are forced to undergo the inner spiritual transformation which is Christianity's demand and promise. Following Luther, Kierkegaard insists that everything must be internalised. The problems of religion must not be solved abstractly in thought, but concretely in human existence. Theology must be translated into spirituality. Hence the attack on metaphysics and objectively, and in the long run the development of a non-realist interpretation of religious belief.

If this is so, then Christianity's own inner logic points in the direction of an anthropocentric and voluntarist view of life, a radical Christian humanism.

Don Cupitt said:
...if in the modern period people's varied personal visions of God are no longer connected together by any agreed public metaphysical referent, if there is no longer any hub that the spokes run to and which holds them all together, is not our talk of God becoming hopelessly vague and equivocal? I imagine this objection being raised, because I guess that the old realist Adam in you will not lie down. (He would still keep raising his head, even if I wrote a thousand pages.) But the objection shows how realism confuses people about the true meaning of the word God. The common factor is in fact still there, and is the same as it always was; for a man's god is that which he worships, that which has over-riding authority in his life, that which matters most to him, that which most profoundly determines his sense of himself and the aim of his life, that which expresses the deepest truth of what he is. There are people, says St Paul sourly, "whose god is their belly", and he is here using the word "God" in this primal sense. Many writers of the eighteenth century recognised it, and called it the "relative" use of the word. A man's talk of God reveals what Paul Tillich, whose thought ran close to non-realism, called his "ultimate concern". Show me your God, runs an old saying, and you show me what you are. Hence the intimate connection in Kierkegaard between faith in God and our life-task of "becoming an individual": every human being who is serious about existence, who is not content to drift with the crowd towards death but seeks to set himself high ideals and to make his life something of worth, must formulate his own idea of God as the unifying symbol of the life-aim to which he is devoted.

Don Cupitt said:
...Christian faith is not an ideology but a form of life, a passionate commitment to the quest for deliverance from the world, for salvation and spiritual perfection. Religious teachings prescribe the itinerary; they show the course of the Path. They are to be used instrumentally, as tools and guides. Understood dogmatically, they mystify us and may become enslaving and religiously damaging illusions; but understood spiritually they become means to inner liberation. God becomes our Saviour in so far as religious doctrines no longer constrain us externally but inspire and guide us inwardly.

Someone who takes a realist metaphysical view of God as a cosmos-transcending being "out there" will always find it difficult to explain what can be meant by talk of union with God and having God dwell in one's heart. How does the God out there become my God, who shows me the path to true selfhood? But if spirituality is put first, we can see the point of such idioms. For mystical thinking moves in the opposite direction from mythical, dogmatic thinking. Mythical thought projects religious realities outward, objectifies them and pictures them in the form of an invisible world of supernatural beings and forces and causes of events. The believer then becomes the servant of the very things that he has himself postulated. But mystical thinking draws them back within the self. It internalises and spiritualises. It interprets religious ideas not descriptively but regulatively, regarding them not as giving supernatural information but as prescribing the form of the religious life. Mystical thinking carries out a kind of inner critique through which the self is purged, purified, emancipated from bondage to dogmatic illusions, illuminated and transformed into freedom and godlikeness. The mystic attempts to overcome dogma, insisting that God, Christ and heaven are not "up there" but are to be found in the heart by desire, by love, by the will; that is, by a path of inner purification.

Don Cupitt said:
God (and this is a definition) is the sum of our values, representing to us their ideal unity, their claims upon us and their creative power. Mythologically, he has been portrayed as an objective being, because ancient thought tended to personify values in the belief that important words must stand for things... Values do not have to be independently and objectively existent beings in order to be able to claim our allegiance... As with values, so with God, because God's status in the language is very close to that of values. God simply is the ideal unity of all value, its claim upon us, and its creative power. (God is indeed the creator, for value indeed makes the world.) But the Platonic notion of God as an objective being, out there in a higher world, does nothing to explain the way he functions as our God, chosen by us, our religious ideal, our life-aim and the inner meaning of our identity. Just as you should not think of justice and truth as independent beings, so you should not think of God as an objectively existing superperson. That is a mythological and confusing way of thinking. The truth, we now see, is that the idea of God is imperative, not indicative. To speak of God is to speak about the moral and spiritual goals we ought to be aiming at, and about what we ought to become. The meaning of "God" is religious, not metaphysical, even though unfortunately a deeply engrained habit of self-mystification leads most people, most of the time, radically to misconstrue the true meaning of religious language. The true God is not God as picturesque supernatural fact, but God as our religious ideal.

How do they explain the communion? If it is not Jesus' flesh and blood, etc? (Not that traditional Christianity really explains it very well either, but it seems normal to me, as I was brought up Christian.)

I don't think Cupitt addresses this directly, but I can guess what his answer would be: a liturgical ceremony like the Eucharist doesn't express any objective reality. The bread and wine don't magically transform into the body and blood of Jesus. Rather, by thinking of the bread and wine in this way, and eating them, we express an inner truth about the meaning and significance of Jesus' death, and the values he represented, to us. So again it's all about expressing values. Paul Tillich - whom Cupitt cites in one of the above quotations, and who was not exactly a Christian humanist but who did think of God as in some way non-objective - talked about traditional theology as "symbolic". That is, when we speak, we are using words to express ideas. Similarly, in theological discourse, we use mythological formulations to express ideas. This applies to actions as well as to speech. So when Christians perform liturgical actions such as the Eucharist, that can literally be thought of as a sort of language that is expressing key ideas. I think this would go quite well with what Cupitt is saying.

And most profoundly: How can they believe in God and not believe in a thing called God? :confused:

Hopefully the quotations above should shed some light on that... just as you can believe in truth or justice or love or mercy and yet not believe that there are things called "truth" and "justice" and "love" and "mercy", so too, Cupitt argues, you can believe in God without having to believe that there is a thing called "God".

If I perform an action freely, that merely means that I had the power to do so; the opposite, in my opinion, is not entailed. I do not think I need, as part of free will, the ability to do the opposite to what I actually do.

Yes, I would agree with that. On a compatibilist understanding of free will, none of this is a problem at all. Even strict determinism and full-blown predestination are quite compatible with that understanding of free will - hence the name.

If the 8-point argument were valid, moreover, it would be the case that my inability to change the past, let alone the future, signified a curbing of my free will. If I will not do something, the existence of my free will does not entail that I should be able to do everything. I can't grow wings and fly; I can't transfigure myself into a fish; I can't even drive; I cannot amend the past; to regard these disabilities as impediments to my free will is absurd. Therefore, why should I be able to contradict the future as part of my free will?

I don't agree with this part. The proponent of (incompatibilist) free will would say that there are certainly things which we do not choose freely. I cannot choose to fly or to change the past - or if I do so choose, I can't actually do it. So those are actions that I cannot perform, freely or otherwise. My current choice not to fly like a bird is thus a choice I do not make freely, because I cannot do otherwise. However, the proponent of (incompatibilist) free will would say that it is precisely because I cannot do otherwise that my not flying is not done freely. If I did not have the power not to mow the lawn, then my mowing the lawn would also not be done freely. If it is done freely, that means that I do have the power not to do it.

As for past actions, it's true that we don't have the power now to make them un-done. But someone who believes in (incompatibilist) free will would say that free actions are those where, at the time, we had the power not to do them. When we make our choice, of course we lose that power, but as long as we had it at the time, that is the criterion of freedom. Actions which we have the power not to do are those which we perform freely, and actions which we do not have the power not to do are those we do not perform freely. As I've argue at length here before, I think that ultimately this understanding of free will isn't coherent, but I think not for the reasons you give.

Therefore, I have the power to mow the lawn on a day in a month's time provided that the conditions are functionally identical. The fact that I don't do this in a month's time, despite the fact that the grass is equally long and the weather is the same, is quite compatible with my previous assertion that I have the power, unrestricted by time itself, to mow the lawn.

Thus, free will is not bound up with time as that argument demands it should be, and so the argument is invalid. I can mow the lawn, but that doesn't demand that I will be doing it in precisely five seconds time. I can mow the lawn whenever I want, but to start doing it in precisely five seconds time would be impossible to time exactly anyhow. Therefore, my power to do something is not identical to my ability to do it at a particular time.

I don't see how you make the inference from the first paragraph to the second - can you expand?

Recalling an earlier thread, what is it you find particularly remarkable about Aquinas and Bonhoeffer?

I admire Aquinas for his rationality and his ability to consider the different sides of a question, as well as his thoroughness. I think he really is someone who follows where the argument leads. I admire Bonhoeffer for his insight into what is important and the real concerns that people have with religion, and his willingness to embrace difficult ideas. So I suppose ultimately I like them because of their rationality - a wide rationality rather than a narrow one.
 
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