CARM and Molinism (But Really Just Prevenient Grace)

It has come to my attention that there is a newer, recent article from Matt Slick on prevenient grace and Molinism. In it, he attempts to argue that total depravity rules out prevenient grace (he applies this reasoning to two versions of prevenient grace, but since it relies on the same foundational reasoning it will be sufficient to deal with that). This is what I take to be his argument, in premise form:

1.     If total depravity is true, then man cannot come to God freely.

2.     If prevenient grace is true, then unregenerate man is still totally depraved.

3.     Total depravity is true (assumption of prevenient grace).

4.     Prevenient grace is true (assumption of prevenient grace, by definition)

5.     Therefore, if prevenient grace is true, then man still cannot come to God freely.

6.     Therefore, man still cannot come to God freely.

I believe I have represented Slick fairly and accurately here. However, there are some problems. First, he takes total depravity to mean that there is no free choosing of God and that prevenient grace doesn’t rectify this at all, since man is still totally depraved, and that prevenient grace relies on total depravity (since otherwise it wouldn’t be necessary). But this is just question-begging. After all, the advocate for prevenient grace can just insist that he doesn’t accept (3) if this is what total depravity entails (instead, call it “total depravity lite,” where the only difference is that prevenient grace can restore such an ability as an act of divine grace); or she can say she rejects (2), since, after all, prevenient grace is intended to restore, and so restores to a condition of total depravity lite. Why can’t he or she make this move?

Spelling it out more, this assumes prevenient grace doesn’t accomplish what it intends to accomplish. Prevenient grace agrees that man is totally depraved, but that any good that can be done by man is due to God’s enabling grace, and that he can come to the Father on the occasion of the Spirit’s moving work. But Slick simply claims that, in premise 2, we can see it doesn’t accomplish this. Why should we think this? Well, Slick quotes a few verses without doing any exegetical work. In other words, he builds his conclusion into his argument; he begs the question.

In truth, why can Molinists not just reject (2), and point out prevenient grace is meant to solve the ability problem? You can’t very well reply that prevenient grace doesn’t solve the ability problem because there is an ability problem!

My Favorite Apologetic Arguments

The following two arguments are currently my favorite apologetic arguments for the truth of theism, and by way of subsequent inference to the best explanation, Christianity. I have written about them many times, and enjoy both discussion and answering questions about them. I am going to discuss them both briefly and leave it for your consideration.

The first argument is the kalam cosmological argument (KCA). Cosmological arguments for God’s existence reason from the contingent facts of the universe to a transcendent cause of the universe. The kalam is a particular formulation of this idea. Thus, there is no one singular cosmological argument, only a family of arguments that share the basic foundation in common. There are two versions of the KCA that have been presented by its most prominent defender, William Lane Craig. I will give what I call Craig’s classical presentation, then his current presentation, and then discuss them both. Here is the classical presentation of the KCA:

1.      Whatever begins to exist had a cause.

2.      The universe began to exist.

3.      Therefore, the universe had a cause.

And here is the current presentation:

1*. If the universe began to exist, then the universe had a transcendent cause.

2. The universe began to exist.

3*. Therefore, the universe had a transcendent cause.

The first thing to notice is that (2) appears in both arguments. This is a great premise because it enjoys both philosophical and scientific support. On the philosophical side, of the several arguments given, I like the argument against traversing an actually infinite amount of time. It doesn’t appear possible. Think about it this way: if you pick an infinitely distant “starting point” (any arbitrary point will do) in the past, an infinite number of moments would have to pass for you to arrive at the present moment. But before the present moment could arrive, the moment prior would have to arrive; and before that moment, the one prior to it would have to arrive, and so on and so forth ad infinitum. But then the present moment could not arrive, since the infinite series could never be traversed! It’s like encountering a man who claims he has just finished counting all the negative numbers from infinity down to zero; it doesn’t make any sense!

Further, there are scientific reasons to think the universe began to exist. In pop culture, even today, it is not uncommon to hear things like, “The universe is eternal and infinite.” But this is just scientifically outdated (by about a hundred years!). Scientists have discovered the universe is expanding. Extrapolating the rate of expansion backward into the past, they have postulated there is a point in the past where all matter is condensed into a single miniscule point. They further postulate that this point “burst” to spread out and form the universe over a long period of time. They call this the Big Bang Theory, and it implies a beginning to space. Regardless of what one thinks of this theory, you cannot have both the old model of endless, eternal space and the Big Bang. You must have one or the other, or neither. The point is just that current scientific models suggest one cannot avoid an absolute beginning to the universe.

(1)   is good, in that it is both intuitive and constantly confirmed by our experience. Some people have thought that a counterexample to (1) would be quantum events. However, this is confused. (1) does not say, “whatever event transpires has a cause,” but whatever begins to exist had a cause. The difference means that in order for quantum events to be a counterexample, the virtual particles would have to come from nothing. But they do not come from nothing; they come from a sea of energy.

However, Craig reformulated (1) into (1*) perhaps in part to avoid this whole confusion in the first place. (1*) seems eminently plausible; the alternative is to think that the universe both came into existence and had no cause whatsoever, which seems very, very counterintuitive, to say the least! But then it follows that the universe had a transcendent cause. This transcendent cause, then, must be timeless, spaceless, immaterial, extremely powerful, personal, beginningless, changeless, and uncaused! That sure sounds a lot like God—specifically, the God of the Abrahamic tradition.

Now here is the version of the moral argument that I prefer:

1.      If God does not exist, then objective moral values and duties do not exist.

2.      Evil exists.

3.      Therefore, objective moral values and duties do exist.

4.      Therefore, God exists.

I prefer the extra step (3) provides for reasons I shall explain in a moment. (1), I think, should be placed in probabilistic terms: probably, God is the best explanation for objective morality. Think about it this way: in the absence of God, why should we be good? To whom do we owe that obligation? It cannot be merely other humans, for humans did not always exist, and there could be other sentient moral agents that exist or could possibly have existed, and presumably morality could apply to them. So, without such a ground, it looks like moral obligations wouldn’t be around at all.

Now, as it turns out, all you need at this point is for someone to agree that objective moral values and duties do exist. However, some people resist this point initially. It is here I like to remind the objector of what his favorite (likely) argument against God is: the problem of evil. The problem of evil works only in cases where, in fact, there is evil. Beheading people for the faith, calculated genocide as ethnic cleansing, imprisonment for thought crimes—these people take to be evil deeds, not just deeds we happen not to like. You can provide myriad examples, and usually people grant that at least some things are objectively evil. If they do not, however, do not lose heart: you have shown a cost—a very, very great cost—of accepting their view: you must stand firm in the counterintuition that nothing is really wrong, deep down: it’s all preference.

In any case, once one accept (2), it entails (3), and (1) and (3) entail (4), that God exists. Now this God is plausibly a necessary being, since it looks like moral truths are necessary, and God grounds these.

So take these two arguments alone and combine their conclusions: there exists a being who is plausibly necessary, transcends the universe, brought it into existence, grounds objective morality, is omnibenevolent, beginningless, changeless, uncaused, timeless, spaceless, immaterial, enormously powerful, and personal. For a variety of reasons, I think this is best represented by the Christian God. What do you think?

God and Modal Realism (An Exercise)

Here’s something fun to think about, but before I begin: I do want to say that I don’t really believe what I am about to write, and I think I know where the flaw is, but it makes for interesting reflection on our God.

1.     God is the most perfect being that could possibly exist.

2.     If God were to exist in and create n number of possible worlds, it would be greater for God to exist in and create n + ∞ possible worlds.

3.     If it is possible for God to exist in and create n + ∞ possible worlds, then God does exist in and create n + ∞ possible worlds.

4.     God exists in and created this possible world.

5.     So, modal realism is true (that is, an infinite number of possible worlds exist).

Have fun!

Video Blog: The Consequence Argument

This argument has implications on our philosophy, theology, and even hermeneutics! Check it out:

Skeptic's Not Knowing God Exists is not Necessarily an Excuse

I was thinking today about a common theme in discussing what skeptics and non-believers may say if confronted by God in the afterlife. A typical retort is that they did not have enough evidence or reason to believe in God, and so did not know God existed or of their need for repentance. This relies heavily on the traditional analysis of knowledge as “justified, true belief.”[1] The argument, then, would look like this:

1.     If one does not know he ought to do x, then it is not the case that he ought to do x.

2.     One does not know he ought to do x.

3.     Therefore, it is not the case that he ought to do x.

The argument seems straightforward enough. The unbeliever does not, by definition, believe in God’s existence and so does not, by definition, believe he must repent. If he does not believe these things, then by the traditional analysis, he does not know these things (since belief is a necessary condition). Thus, the unbeliever is not actually obligated to respond to the Gospel, for one can hardly know what he thinks is untrue, and so he’s off the hook!

The typical Christian response is to accept (1) and deny (2). Romans 1 and 10, Psalm 19, and other passages suggest strongly that everyone knows there is a God. Thus, there really are no such things as atheists, in the strict sense—everyone believes or knows, deep down, even if it is suppressed to the point of the subconscious. While I think this response, if carefully nuanced, can get to the truth of the matter (that is, I agree with the Bible), it’s not always helpful to tell the atheist what he “really believes.” Rather, I intend to attack (1).

While initially plausible, I think (1) is not impervious to objection. Consider a person who is responsible for being in his current predicament, even though he cannot now alter his current state. That person, if in circumstances in which he ought to refrain from performing some action, still ought to refrain from performing that action, if he was responsible for being in the particular state he is in now. Take a drug addict, and assume one ought not to abuse drugs. Suppose further, as has been argued, that there is at least possibly some circumstance such that, were a drug addict sufficiently addicted, he could not now refrain from shooting up with heroin (without some external intervention). In this case the drug addict, if he chose to use drugs of his own volition and became addicted through that free choice or series of free choices, is responsible for his current predicament. Additionally, it is plausible that he is morally responsible—not just for the initial acts, but for the subsequent acts, and the act within the situation that now confronts him. In other words, even though the drug addict fails to have now a necessary condition for being such that he ought to refrain from abusing drugs, he nonetheless still ought to refrain from abusing drugs—because he is completely responsible for being in the situation in which he finds himself.[2]

So how can we apply this to our situation with the unbeliever? It seems we could say that if an atheist is responsible for his initial state of unbelief,[3] then he is responsible for his current state as well. So, if we have someone who decides to walk away from Christianity, or will not accept it, and they chose that state, then even if they do not now believe (or even find themselves unable to believe!), it was within their power to believe and so are still obligated to trust and repent. Now it’s obvious that a non-believer can dispute our account here; but this is not the point. The point is that (1) is not nearly as obvious as a first glance may suggest, and is even plausibly false.

Plausibly, we can capture the intuitive force of (1) as:

1’. If one is not responsible for his current state of not knowing he ought to do x, then it is not the case that he ought to do x.

2’. One is not responsible for his current state of not knowing he ought to do x.

3.     Therefore, it is not the case that he ought to do x.

(1’) and plausible instances of (2’) seem right. But now notice that this is not the state most non-believers we’ve been discussing find themselves in. They usually are responsible for not believing the Gospel. While some may claim that no beliefs are chosen, I find this hard to believe (and if they’re right, I couldn’t have chosen to believe it anyway). I think at least some beliefs are chosen, and even if they aren’t, the argument plausibly needs only that sense of responsibility that anyone would have about anything anyone has concerning their current states and/or formation of character. But again, a skeptic need not accept this alternative account in order for us to show that the original account, and hence the original excuse, fails.

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[1] Let’s leave to one side Gettier cases or attempted counterexamples for the sake of argument.

[2] This has some interesting implications for “ought-implies-can” which I will, for now, leave to the reader to work out.

[3] Here we may want to distinguish between states of infants and states of what I shall call “responsible knowers,” which will coincide with a state of moral responsibility. I will appeal to this latter state, though I will not endeavor here to figure out when that begins.

A Defense of S5

The following post is taken almost verbatim from my way of explaining S5 to people. It makes sense to me, but I recognize not everyone will agree. In any case, I take it to show the thesis “whatever is possible is necessarily possible” is correct.

It seems to me that if something is possible, it's necessarily possible. Take a world, W1, and take the proposition P. Now let's suppose the metaproposition "Possibly, P" is true in W1. A necessary and sufficient condition of possibility is that it [whatever is under consideration] appears in some possible world. With that in mind, let's consider the denial of S5. The positive claim of S5 is that if something is possible, it is necessarily possible. The denial entails that if something is possible, it is not necessarily possible (you can place the negative operator prior to the whole thing as "it is not the case that" and you will yield the same result). This denial means that there is some possible world where P is impossible. Call this world W2.

Here's where the fun begins! In W2, then, P is impossible. But what does it mean for P to be impossible? If "Possibly, P" means that "in some world, P appears (or is true)," "not-possibly P" (or P is impossible) means that in no world is P true (or appears). These definitions of possibility and impossibility are what we're working with as stipulatives in modal logic. Basically, if this is not what possible and impossible mean, I don't know what they are supposed to mean!

So with that in place, we can now derive a contradiction: P is true in at least one world (W1) and true in no worlds (per W2). Whatever is a contradiction is a necessary falsehood. Call the derived contradiction "The Impossibility Thesis." This means that in no world is The Impossibility Thesis true, including W2. But if in even W2 The Impossibility Thesis is false, then, necessarily, either "possibly P" or "not-possibly P." But this process can be repeated, with identical answers, for every possible world. But in that case, what we have described, whichever answer we grant, will be a necessary truth. In this case, it's "Possibly P."