Showing posts with label philosophy of language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy of language. Show all posts

Saturday, July 3, 2021

Intuitions, Language, and Identity

 I know I haven’t posted in a very long time. But here’s something interesting to think about:

 

Much is made of our intuitions in the personal identity game of bodies and souls. We can think of scenarios where we could exist outside of our bodies, or in a different body, and on that basis (and through some modal reasoning) arrive at the conclusion that we are souls that have bodies. Or we might think that, for example, when you strike my hand, you have hit me, thus revealing that I have an intuition that I am my body. What to do with these competing intuitions?

 

One possibility is to think of our language use. Suppose my son Rowan approaches me and says, “Who are you?” I may look at him and say simply, “I am Daddy.” Did I make a predicate statement? While I could have said, “I am adaddy,” that is not what I meant. Did I make an identity claim? Sort of. For while I am identical to the person my sons call “Daddy,” this isn’t quite what I meant, either.[1]

Instead, I mean something like “I am your father, the person you call your father—your Daddy.” What’s the upshot? When I say, “Ow, you hit me!” as your hand strikes mine, I do not intend to communicate that I have an intuition that I am my hand. Nor am I even trying to say that you hit part of me, and hence communicate that I have an intuition that I am my body (I know this since I find being identical to my body quite counterintuitive). Instead, I am trying to say something like “Ow, you hit my hand, which belongs to me.” Indeed, if asked to explain, I would further elaborate: “This hand is deeply connected to me.” I find all this far more plausible for my own thinking than thinking that I intended to communicate, “Ow, you hit my personal self!”

 

Finally, lest the reader find all this terribly unlikely, note we have a serious parallel in language about emotional states: “When she said that, it really hurt me.” As far as I know no one means something like “When she said that, particular neurons fired such that particular brain states came about such that my body, which is identified with me, was emotionally hurt” or anything like that. Instead she simply means “When she said that, it really hurt my feelings.” And no one should thereby think that the person saying this is identical with her feelings.

 

Just a fun return to philosophizing, finally writing down things that come to mind while I’m doing something else (instead of forgetting later in the day, as has happened countless times since COVID). Feel free to comment below!

 


[1] A related but separate issue could arise in the fact that I could simply argue I existed as the person I was prior to ever having sons, or even prior to becoming mature through puberty, and thus identity may not be what I should go for, anyway.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Identity and Predication

Back in the 1990s, President Bill Clinton famously avoided being found guilty by saying something to the effect of, “it all depends on what your definition of ‘is’ is.” He was widely ridiculed for the statement, but there may be something to it after all.[1] We are going to take a look at the word “is” in philosophy.
First, it should be understood that there are two kinds of “is.” There is the “is” of identity and the “is” of predication. What is identity? That should be easy enough. Without delving into many complex issues, identity is, roughly, A=A. Here are some examples: Imagine you are a first-century Jew seeing Jesus, and you recognize that he fulfills the expectation of the prophet spoken of in Deuteronomy. So you say to your friend, “He is that prophet.” You are here making an identity relationship; you mean to say that these two are not separate individuals but the same person. Other ways include, “Luke, I am your father,” “I am Randy Everist,” “A mountain is a rock,” and so on.
What is predication? In English as well as philosophy, predication of a subject describes something about that subject. It is not the same as identity relationships. For instance, if I say to you, “the basketball player is tall,” I do not mean that there is such a thing as tallness, and the basketball player is it! I mean that the property of tallness can be ascribed to the player. They are descriptions of their subjects. “I am angry,” “It is difficult,” and other such linking verbs with adjectives are all examples of the “is” of predication.
Why is it important to maintain this distinction? First, it holds biblical and theological importance. In 1 John, where the Bible says “God is love,” does it mean, philosophically, that the two are identical? If so, one can say “love is God,” as Augustine famously did. If it is of predication, then does this mean that there can be love independently of God? Is this the same as free will (where free choices are made independently of God, but the fact we can have free will is not)? Some interesting issues are raised.
Second, it can help us avoid misunderstandings on a philosophical and apologetic level. In the moral argument, for example, or in the defense against the Euthyphro dilemma, God is good in the sense of identity. The nature of good is God’s nature, and thus goodness is necessary. Identity and predication may be fascinating to some and boring to others, but they must be differentiated in order to understand properly the philosophical issues.


[1] Please note this is not to make any kind of political statement or to say that Clinton was correctly applying the principle or not; it’s just a segue into philosophy.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Equivocation and Christian Scriptures

I happened to be perusing the Internet recently (a very poor idea, I know) and came across the following meant-to-be-ridiculed scenario. "We are to fear God. We are to love God. There is no fear in love." The idea is that the Bible is demanding a contradictory state of affairs, or something impossible to fulfill. This article shall demonstrate this is not a problem.

The Bible does indeed command us to fear God, in many places (Ecc. 12:13 and 1 Peter 2:17). It also tells us we are to love God (Matt. 22:37). Moreover, the biblical record does say "perfect love casts out fear" in 1 John 4:18. However, this supposed contradiction is demonstrably fallacious, on two counts.

First, there is the issue of the semantic range fallacy. This fallacy states that some word takes on each and every meaning of its possible usages each time it is used. A deviant of this fallacy applies here, where nearly the opposite takes place: it assumes a univocal usage for the word. That is, every time the word appears, it is assumed to be infused with the same meaning in every case. This is demonstrably fallacious. So what the objector would need here would be a reason to think "fear"is in the exact same sense in all uses.

Second, there is the issue of equivocation. That fallacy is making an argument whose terms appear to carry the same meaning, but in reality do not (and hence are different terms after all). This can be seen from the context of each verse. Fearing God, in the context of the injunction for believers to do so, very clearly means something like being in awe, admiration, and subjugation. Fear, in the more common and modern context (as well as the context of there being no fear in love) clearly means terror in judgment (v. 17). But Christians do not have to worry about the terror of judgment; because Christ died for our sins, we may go to that judgment with boldness. A simple reading of the chapter would clear that up.

Now it occurs to me the saying was probably not meant as an argument, but rather as a joke of sorts. But people that tend to make these jokes typically do so out of a place of truth. That is, they probably believe the Bible is a silly book, hopelessly mired in contradiction. This article has shown that at least this so-called contradiction is easily resolved.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Definition and Role of Evidence

Much needs to be said about the proper role of evidence in philosophical and theological discussions. People seem to have a notion about evidence that requires near-certainty, or that in order for something to count as evidence it must be found convincing to them. Specifically, I have heard lately “there is no evidence for such-and-such in the Bible.” When it comes to major theological issues within Christianity, it is rare that an espoused major opinion has absolutely no biblical or theological evidence. We should discuss the proper definition and role of evidence.
Some fact F serves as evidence for a proposition P just in the case that P is more probable given F’s truth than if F had not been present. Some F does not serve as evidence for P in the case that P is just as probable given F’s presence as its absence, or in the case that P is actually rendered less probable given F than not-F. Here’s a real world example:
Suppose I arrive home to discover my wife Jodi’s car parked next to my house (F1). I now have reason to think Jodi is home (P), because her being home is more probable given that her car is parked at the house than if her car were not so parked. So F1 is evidence for P. Now suppose we say, almost without exception, Jodi’s car is driven only by her (F2). So F2, taken with the fact I see Jodi’s car (F1), is evidence for P. This shows the role of evidence is to take in all relevant facts to confirm or disconfirm a proposition.
Now for a twist: suppose I suddenly remember Jodi is out of town this week (F3). F3 thus serves as evidence against P, for P is less probable given F3’s presence than it would be in the absence of F3. In fact, F3, on its own, is stronger than both F1 and F2; it is strong enough to act as a defeater for P. Perhaps it is the case I left the car there and took her to the airport. However, it does not follow that there is no evidence for P.
The same goes with respect to theological debates. It may be we have sufficient evidence to reject a premise, but it doesn’t necessarily follow therefore there just is no evidence for that premise. The problem of evil acts as evidence against God’s existence; Christians (such as I am) just think the evidence for God outweighs this.[1]
This brings us to the role of evidence, already implicit. Evidence and relevant facts ought to be amassed in order to evaluate a proposition. This does not mean one must know everything there is to know about a subject. I would submit that if there is enough evidence relevant to the situation or premise that one can assert, tentatively, that the evidence points in favor of the proposition. There is much offered in the realm of evidences for (and some against) God. One should only remain agnostic in the event she holds her evidences in favor of and against God to be precisely equal! This is the definition and role of evidence.


[1] Indeed, even the existence of evil may itself serve as evidence for God’s existence, given other introduced facts.
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Is Faith Blind?

Is faith just something we as Christians say whenever we are confronted with reason? Is it true that faith is belief in something unreasonably? I don’t see why it should be. In fact, no major Christian apologist, pastor, or theologian of whom I am aware has taught this. However, it’s peddled around the popular-level discussions of skeptics as though it were fact. In this way, they may dismiss any Christian claims without even examining them (after all, who wants to believe in something without any evidence?).

What is faith then? Hebrews 11:1 says “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Faith is a trust in God precisely because of the evidence. “But wait,” counters the atheist or skeptic. “Perhaps it is true that some Christians use reason to then believe in Christianity. But most other Christians do not.”

This is only somewhat true, and not in the way skeptics think. For most people, the evidence of God’s working in their daily lives provides good reason to think he exists. The evidence of their changed life helps them to know God exists. The fact is that once they were bound for an eternity without Christ and now all they want to do is to know and serve Jesus Christ as revealed in the Bible. These people, though lacking in formal argumentation, may nonetheless be rationally justified in knowing the claims of Christianity to be true as part of their daily experience.

One may protest that this will not convince others. But that is not what is at stake here. What is at stake is whether or not people believe independently of or contrary to evidence. On this account, even believers who don’t know the cosmological argument from a ham sandwich may nonetheless not be engaging in “blind” faith. Rather, their faith in God is grounded in experience, and it is an active trust in God to continue to do what he has said he will do.
--------------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

When Fallacies are not Fallacious

Often, someone will label a particular piece of reasoning as fallacious when it only resembles a certain fallacy. Ironically, these people themselves are engaging in fallacious reasoning by doing so. When one accuses something of being fallacious, he must know why it is a fallacy. Let me explain.

When it comes to the fallacy of composition, people often recognize overt examples. “Every member of my team is twenty years old; therefore the team is twenty years old.” However, what people seem not to get right is the reason this is fallacious. They tend to think something along these lines is true:

Whatever reasons from the parts to the whole is fallacious.

But this is not obviously true. In fact, it seems as though clear counterexamples abound. Consider the wall made of red bricks. Every brick in the wall is red; therefore, the wall is red. Why is this fallacious? It is not. Or consider: every part of his car is made of metal; therefore, the car is made of metal. How does one tell the difference? It seems there is a kind of symmetry between objects in acceptable, non-fallacious composition-based reasoning and an asymmetry between those objects in the fallacy. Taking the team example, it could be pointed out that the parts of the team have not always been part of the team, or there may have been other, previous members. When composition is reasoned to symmetrically, however, it seems utterly harmless.

The same holds true for composition’s cousin, division. Whereas composition reasons from the parts to the whole, division reasons from the whole to the parts. If there is a completely red wall made of four large bricks it follows from this fact the bricks are red. This should be obviously legitimate.

It is important to understand when these are fallacious and when they are not because of their ramifications on theistic discussion. I once read a criticism of a Christian objection to the universe’s necessity. The objection was that if the universe was necessary then everything that happens is itself necessary. Since it is rational to accept there are contingent persons and events, it follows the universe is not necessary. The retort was that this was the fallacy of division, reasoning since the universe (the whole) was necessary, everything (the parts) would be necessary. As it turns out, however, this is not fallacious. For if the universe is necessary, then it just entails the events and persons and things that it does have. Furthermore, no other possible worlds (complete descriptions of reality) are really possible at all. But if something appears in no possible world (such as alternate events, places, things, or persons), then by definition it is not possible at all. That which is not possible is necessarily false when expressed as a proposition. Therefore, it follows analytically that if the universe is necessary, then it is impossible that the universe be necessary and things be different than they are.

It seems that nearly all informal fallacies have exceptions. This is important. If we do not recognize the distinctions and differences, we will simply be trained to look at a basic structure of an argument or reasoning, and not at the reasoning itself. This is needed for good apologetics and philosophy!
---------------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Question about Freedom and Possible Worlds

This is my 150th post of 2011! The following is a great question concerning omniscience, freedom, and possible worlds.

“I don't know why, but for some reason I've been having some trouble understanding free will and God creating an actual world.

On the one had we have God's foreknowledge (and/or middle knowledge) and when He creates a world He knows what each individual will do. Obviously, God knowing what we will do doesn't eliminate our free will.
Moreover, God is restricted in creating certain worlds because He knows what each individual will do in any given world. So, for example, God doesn't create a world in which NO one is saved.

But He doesn't just "know", rather He acts; He creates a world. So it almost seems to me that prior to God's creating, we have free will in that God can't(and or wont) create certain worlds. But after creating, this changes.

1) In His created free agents eye's, it seems like we have free will. For example, I don't have to be typing this right now.
2) But in God's eye's, it seems like we don't have free will because God has determined not just who will be saved and lost, but every single action as well. By choosing to create a world in which I am typing this, I am typing this. Given the actual world, in God's eyes, there is no way I could NOT be typing this.

So although it seems like we have free will, in the grand scheme of things (in God's eyes) we really don't. And it seems to me that the important factor is ‘the grand scheme of things’.”

Randy:

Hi Robby, I think I might be able to help. It seems what you're saying is that prior to God's actualizing a world (which involves creation), we have free will, but subsequent to it we do not, because it is true in that world we will do what we will do (that is a tautology, after all). But of course this does not follow, for it is a tautology along the lines of the law of identity (A is A); simply because what we will do is what we will do it doesn't follow we could not have done otherwise. After all, ask yourself why it is true we will do something in that world, at least on this scenario: because we would freely do it! If it is truly free prior, nothing actually changes except the distinction from possible to actual (what we would do to what we will actually do).

But then we arrive at another concern, explicitly stated. "Determined" can be a very ambiguous term, and without its exact implications being teased out can result in some confusion. "Determine" can mean either "knowing" or "causing." If knowledge, then there is no problem. If we mean "causing," remember that on middle knowledge God doesn't cause the individual actions of free creatures, he causes them to be actual. This is a hugely important distinction. The would counterfactual is true whether or not God makes the counterfactual circumstances the actual circumstances of the world. If that is true, then God's actualizing the possible world containing these true would counterfactuals doesn't cause anything (other than it being actual).

The same distinction helps your last sentence in the second to last paragraph. Given the actual world as true, and you type in the actual world, then yes, you type in the actual world. But that is tautological. This again calls back to the distinction between necessity de re and necessity de dicto. Necessity de dicto says of this problem, "Necessarily, if the actual world exists, then the events in the actual world are actual." Necessity de re says of this situation, "The events of this world are necessarily actual." Your concern that "given the actual world . . . there is no way I could NOT be typing this" seems only to be true in the harmless, de dicto sense of necessity. I can't think of any other reason to think the statement is true unless we're thinking "Necessarily, if the actual world exists, then the events in the actual world are actual" (since you type in the actual world, it would be impossible both for this world to be actual, you to type in this actual world at this time, and not type in this actual world at this time. At least one of these statements is incorrect, since they are incompatible. But this is non-controversial).
------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Friday, November 18, 2011

The Slippery Slope Fallacy



Some fallacies are particularly easy to fall into precisely because they rely on a good measure of truth, or even sound reasoning. While that may sound counterintuitive, it’s actually what makes for a great fallacy. Just a good portion of logic and reasoning mixed with the error itself. The fallacy we will discuss today is commonly referred to as the “slippery slope” fallacy. It typically starts with some premise and moves to a horrific or undesirable consequence or series of consequences, thereby showing the premise to be false.

An example would be the following: “once you endorse scholarship, you start to endorse worldly ways of thinking. Then, you’ll believe theories over what a pastor teaches. After that, you’ll end up saying the Bible isn’t true.” Did you catch it? The idea is that by legitimizing scholarship, one will probably or inevitably deny the Bible. But this simply isn’t true. Another example (seen too often in Independent Baptist circles) concerns music. “If you allow a contemporary song to be used in a church service, then the standard of dress is relaxed. When standards of dress are relaxed, then personal morality is lowered. When personal morality is lowered, the church becomes carnal at least and apostate at worst.” So, obviously, singing a contemporary Christian song leads inexorably to carnality.

The reason these types of fallacies work (they are especially popular in political campaigns) is they rely on a rule of logic. The rule is this: If P, then Q. If Q, then R. Therefore, if P, then R. The idea is that if one premise entails another, and that second premise entails a third, then wherever the first is present so will be the third. This is entirely correct so far. So then the slippery slope fallacy is not really fallacious at all, right? Wrong.

While not formally fallacious (that is, it is well within the bounds of actual logic) it is informally so. In our examples, what our arguers need to show is that each and every premise in the chain is present whenever its antecedent is also present. In other words, for the music argument, they need to show every time a contemporary song is introduced, the standard of dress is lowered, and every time the standard of dress is lowered, personal morality suffers, and so on. It won’t do in this case merely to claim it is more probable, for the slippery slope typically purports causal relationships and is not merely descriptive of coextensive but independent events.

Another pitfall for slippery slope fallacies is that they may ignore common causes, rely on controversial premises, or switch the objects of the premise mid-argument. Again, taking our music example: perhaps it is the case (as it is with so many churches) that music standards are relaxed precisely as a rejection of prior legalism (perceived by the church), and hence dress standards are relaxed for the same reason. This would be an example of ignoring a common cause. Relying on controversial premises would include the link that claims relaxing a standard of dress leads to a downgrade in personal morality. I don’t see how anyone could really know this, and I wonder where the studies are. Finally, sometimes this link includes switching the objects of the causal chain. For instance, churches with relaxed (or non-legalistic) music/dress standards tend to attract guests (unbelievers) and non-conformists, the quirky and mundane—in other words, all types of people. Sometimes the “downgrade in morality” is not at all in the person who was legalistic but now is not. In fact, it seems people who make this charge will take the unbelievers and chide them, thinking they are part of the local body!

So how do you avoid committing the slippery slope fallacy? If you make an argument consisting of a logical chain, make sure to avoid these errors, and above all, make sure each part of the chain entails the next one. This reason alone may be why we do not see too many non-fallacious versions of the argument.
--------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Question about Feasibility

This article will be a little more basic, but it has some practical applications. Recently, a question was posed to me concerning possibility and feasibility, and whether there really is a difference between the two. Something is logically possible if it is not self-contradictory (call this the “coherence test”) and if it does not violate any necessary truths (propositions, events, or beings that are impossible to be “false”). Something is feasible, however, in the case that what is under consideration can be done or true. So feasibility is more circumstances oriented.

Here’s a brief example. It’s logically possible for me to fly, but since I cannot fly, it’s not really feasible for me to fly. Similarly, for God, simply because something is possible it does not follow that it is feasible. The principle can be expressed like this: everything that is feasible is also possible, but not everything that is possible is feasible.

So in the case of God’s creating people and his free choice to allow his creatures (mankind) to have a free will, God cedes causal control of a person’s actions to the person. So while it is possible a created person may choose to be saved, it nonetheless may not be feasible for God to guarantee this, because there just is no circumstance in which that person chooses that way! Or perhaps, less controversially, there are circumstances in which certain persons would believe if they were placed in them, but the truths of how other people must act in order for these certain persons to believe and be saved make this infeasible for God to instantiate.[1]

In order for God to instantiate the world, he must actualize a world where all of the relevant propositions are consistent with each other (call this “compossibility”). Thus, if it is true only in circumstances C1 would Randy freely ask Jodi to marry him, it is infeasible for God to create C2 and yet have Randy freely ask Jodi to marry him (at least as long as God allows freedom). Yet it is still logically possible Randy freely asks Jodi to marry him in C2. It’s just not feasible given truths of how he would act. Does that make sense? What say you?


                [1] Again, it must be stressed here that we are not saying God cannot simply force everyone to do something. What we are saying is that because God sovereignly chose to give man a free will, certain truths of the way people act are not directly and completely up to God.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Rejecting the Causal Premise

The first premise of the kalam cosmological argument is “whatever begins to exist had a cause.” This premise is sometimes objected to in very sophisticated ways, and sometimes not as much. The particular objection I have in mind is the objection that says nothing really begins to exist. The idea is that everything just is different arrangements of matter and therefore nothing begins to exist. Rather, all we have are new formations of matter.

There are multiple objections that can be lodged against this view (e.g., the absurdities that “we” existed as matter, or that we don’t really exist at all). However, I have something else in mind to critique the view. My contention is that both of the main reasons for affirming this objection to the premise are fallacious.

The first main reason for affirming that nothing begins to exist is that some kind of reductionist-materialist-naturalist-physicalist (please forgive this clumsy wording) view of the world is true. But that is just to beg the question against the conclusion of the argument in its full form (e.g., it is to say “there is no God”). No one who does not already agree with the objector here will find this helpful.

The second main reason, if the first way of reasoning is rejected, is also fallacious. It assumes that any being is just identifiable with its particular collection of material atoms or parts. Not only does this seem bizarre, but it also seems particularly like the fallacy of division. The fallacy of division occurs when one attributes, illicitly, the truth of the whole to the truth of all of the parts. “The basketball team has been in existence for 75 years; therefore every member of the basketball team has been in existence for 75 years,” is one such example. So here, the objector assumes “you are made up of atoms; therefore each atom is you.” At best, “you” is an indexical term pointing to some kind of abstract object that we call a particular arrangement of matter. However, since we do not have any reason to think a being is just nothing more than a particular collection of atoms, we do not have any non-fallacious reason for denying the causal premise. It simply does not follow that because I am made up of atoms, each atom is in fact me. It is surely bizarre to think that every person who will ever exist is and has been out there in the universe (or, more properly, in the earth somewhere).
-----------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Penn is "Telling" you There is No God


Penn Jillette of the magician duo “Penn and Teller” has given an interview (back in 2005) to NPR on why he does not believe in God. Along the way, he evinces some misunderstandings and fallacious appeals. What are those misunderstandings?

First, Penn claims atheism is “not believing in God.” Aside from the fact this is the non-traditional definition, it also ignores the fact that theism is the proposition “God exists,” while atheism is negating that proposition. The position he describes more closely resembles that of classic agnosticism. Further, he fails to distinguish atheism from agnosticism on this view (what makes one different from the other on this view?).

Next, he oversimplifies when he claims one cannot prove a negative. First, this is self-refuting, for “one cannot prove a negative” is itself a negative proposition. So, either it is false or we must conclude that “one cannot prove a negative” strictly cannot be proven. In either case we need not believe it. But perhaps what he really means is only in the realm of existence. That is also false. If a being can be shown to be incoherent, then it is logically impossible for it to exist, and hence one has proven that being’s non-existence.

Perhaps then Jillette would say God’s existence is coherent, but yet one cannot prove a logically coherent being does not exist.[1] As his example, he postulates an elephant in his trunk. Yet such a being is defeasible in the sense that all one must do is open the trunk. That is one way to prove a being does not exist; if the parameters are of a sufficiently limited scope, one may examine those parameters and see if such a being exists. He then proposes to redefine elephant to include abstract properties and a “spare tire.” But in that case we can still prove the non-existence of a being. If a being has the essential property of being a spare tire, and there is no spare tire in the trunk, then there is no such being in the trunk!

Third, Jillette admits his belief that no God exists is a leap of faith. The reasons he gives for not believing in God are mostly pragmatic and are at times puzzling. For instance, he offers that his atheism does not prevent him from being happy. But why think that what one ought to believe in order to be rational comports with happiness? Or that if a belief makes you happy, it therefore ought to be considered true, or at least not plausibly false? He also claims atheism prevents him from being solipsistic. This is truly baffling, as there seems to be no link between belief in God and belief in other minds, except to say that if one believes in God then he believes in other minds![2]

He continues on to set a straw man, implying Christians claim belief in their “imaginary friend.” I know of no Christians who think God is imaginary. He sets up a false choice between no God and a God who “causes” suffering. He simply does not bother to show why this must be the case. He then claims that no God means the possibility of less suffering in the future. But this is not at all clear. After all, on atheism, sooner or later, man will go extinct and the heat death of the universe will take over. Ultimately, suffering and death win. There is no physical possibility to avoid it. Penn’s view is really just rhetoric, and not particularly good rhetoric at that. It’s what passes for New Atheism these days.


                [1] Interestingly, this track admits the first premise of the modal ontological argument, and hence God must exist of necessity. It is unlikely Jillette recognizes this problem.

                [2] It is also not at all clear he understands the meaning of the term from the paragraph in which the term appears.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Explicit vs. Implicit

In theological or philosophical discussions it seems most people do not understand the terms “explicit” and “implicit.” Most people assume a couple of things about both of these terms. 1. The evidence for an explicit concept is always greater than for the implicit concept, and 2. If something or someone can be said to teach an argument, then that argument is explicit. Both of these are incorrect.

First, the relevant terms should actually be explained. “Explicit” means it is mentioned using the terms or wording of whatever subject is being discussed. So for instance, the concept of “eternal life” is explicitly taught in Scripture, for John 3:16 (as well as a host of other verses) actually mention it. Dictionary.com mentions it as “fully and clearly expressed or demonstrated." When we speak of arguments in the Bible that are explicit, we mean “actually mentioned and unequivocally discussed.”

“Implicit” means it is logically implied, though not stated directly. Here’s a really good example: suppose I say I do not like to sleep past Then I ask you to guess if I will be awake or asleep the next morning at While you might possibly be wrong by guessing “awake,” I have at least implied that I will be awake. This is an example of implicit.

Now notice what this means for certain doctrines. It means doctrines such as the Trinity are implicit, not explicit. What?! Yet we have better evidence for the Trinity than for some explicit doctrines (such as the doctrine of Hell). Why is that? For one, some would say the explicit statements may be hyperbolic, or metaphorical, or whatnot. However, the evidence for the Trinity is very strong. It’s just that there’s no one verse that explicitly says, “The Trinity exists as three persons in one being.” We have plenty of verses that implicitly mean this very thing, and most Bible-believers would attest that it is a very strong implication.

The reason I am writing this is because far too much of our thinking in Christian circles has been muddied over this very issue. Too many people have criticized other doctrines as being “non-biblical” (read: not explicit) while defending their own as “explicit” mistakenly. Even if your belief is as strongly attested as the Trinity, unless there is a sentence stating that (not strongly implying) it is implicit. Even if it is the case that the verse gives you a deductive argument that cannot be denied, it is nonetheless true that one’s belief is implicit.

An implicit belief is not necessarily weaker than an explicit belief, and a true belief is not necessarily an explicit belief. We must remember that when evaluating other Christians’ arguments.
-------------------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Watch Your Negations

Everyone knows that in English grammar double negatives are a “no-no.” Why is this? Simply put, double negatives communicate the positive. It’s quite confusing. The first fun type of negation is of this familiar sort.

“I do not not go that store.”

Of course, this propositional content is in reality “it is not the case that I do not go to the store,” which is just to say that “it is the case that I go to the store.” Another interesting negation includes mixing words such as “not” and “never.”

“I have never not worked for Disney.”

I have actually heard this one in real conversation before. Of course, the propositional content conveyed by this sentence is actually “it has never been the case that I have not worked for Disney.” This entails the absurd consequence that he has been working for Disney his entire life, including the first moment he was born. Why? Because using a word like “never” in conjunction with a negation such as “not” indicates that its opposite was always actually the case. So if I were to say, “I’ve never not been dead,” it would be the case that I have always been dead, and hence have never actually lived. I suppose at that point I would be a figment of someone’s imagination. But what if we reversed the negations?

“I have not never worked for Disney.”

One may be tempted to think the same propositional content has been expressed. But that would be mistaken. What is actually being conveyed is “it is not the case that I have never worked for Disney,” or “it is the case that I have worked for Disney;” a decidedly different meaning. Finally, it is important in the cases where only one negative is used to place the negation correctly. There is a world of difference between:

“It is not true that everyone read the book.”

and

“It is true that everyone read not the book.”

While the latter makes for a bizarre sentence anyway, it claims that it is the case that no one actually read the book, while the former states only that not everyone read the book. While the two statements are not necessarily contradictory (since it could be the case that no one read the book and hence true that not everyone read the book), they nonetheless may convey the wrong meaning depending upon what one intends. In any case, it seems that negations can be a tricky thing.
----------------------------------------------------------------
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

God, Consciousness, and Existence

A friend has asked me to review a particular article, which is somewhat lengthy, concerning Christian theism. He attempts to demonstrate that the idea of the Christian God is internally inconsistent, and thus logically incoherent, and therefore false. His argument, if I am representing it fairly, is thus:

1. Whatever is true is derived from existence, not consciousness.
2. If there is a God, we are derived from consciousness.
3. There is a God (Christian claim).
4. Therefore, we are derived from consciousness (from [2-3]).
5. We exist.
6. Therefore, we are derived from existence, not consciousness (from [1, 5]).

Of course, (4) and (6) are contradictory, and thus we have a classic reductio ad absurdum. So is Christianity doomed? Well, his argument is logically valid. But are the premises sound? What is his justification for the argument?

First, he supports premise one by stating that

You wouldn't say that Albany is the capital of New York only if you agree that it is, would you? Of course not. You recognize implicitly that Albany is the capital of New York whether you agree or not, whether you knew it or not, whether you wish Syracuse were the capital instead. That's call [sic] the primacy of existence. It is the recognition that the objects of consciousness hold metaphysical primacy over consciousness.

However, it must be noted that this is only an argument for the logical priority of ontology to epistemology. Therein lies the problem with the argument. In fact, it seems as though there is the fallacy of equivocation happening on the term “consciousness” as it is meant in premise 1 and as it is meant in premise 2. No Christian, to my knowledge, would say “we derive our existence from epistemology.” Rather, we would say we derive our existence from the existence of the first consciousness; consciousness being ontological. It is difficult to see why there cannot be existence that is also conscious, so long as we think persons also exist.[1]

Now the article turns to a very small, minority view among Christian theists: the view of determinism. He claims, “The Christian conception of the universe is analogous to the fictional realm of a cartoon. This realm is controlled by an all-controlling, all-determining agent which can create any object it wants and revise their nature whenever it wants.” This radical view was probably not held by any major thinker since maybe Descartes. Add to that the fact that most Christians aren’t theological determinists (nor fatalists), and we have a classic strawman.

The remainder of the article is his correspondence with other Christians, and as nearly as I can tell, it all relies on either irrelevant issues or the argument as presented above. Arguments that trade on ambiguities are often the most difficult to defeat, for the fallacy lies within the definition of the terms being used. If we tease out the usage of “consciousness” in premises 1 and 2, however, the argument becomes baffling:

1*. Whatever is true is derived from existence, not epistemology.
2*. If there is a God, we are derived from personhood.
4*. Therefore, we are derived from personhood.
6*. Therefore, we are derived from existence, not epistemology.

Yet here, (4*) and (6*) are not logically incompatible (at least not without further argument). The author asserts later on that he does not in fact claim “ontology precedes epistemology” (even though he agrees with that statement), but rather that the consciousness does not precede existence. However, this does not make the argument any better. In this case, the first premise really seems to be saying:

1’. No consciousness can ever precede existence.

But that is manifestly false. For my father’s consciousness is metaphysically prior to my existence (both temporally and logically). So perhaps he (more charitably and more likely) means:

1+. For any A, A’s existence metaphysically precedes A’s consciousness.

(1+) is clearly very true. But in that case, what would (2+) be?

2+. Our existence is derived from God’s consciousness.

But in what way does (2+) go against (1+)? We may say God’s existence logically precedes, if not temporally, his consciousness. But that wouldn’t preclude our existence coming from his consciousness. I don’t expect to correspond with author, if only because he seems quite condescending when challenged. It’s not attractive. He largely attempts what I call the “case by intimidation.” The idea is to quote or discuss philosophy in as abstract terms as possible, then declare your case “obvious” or prima facie, or universally recognized, or whatnot, in the hopes your opponent will be shamed or confused into an irrelevant rebuttal (or simply stop arguing at all).

His argument is not at all clear, nor does it seem to make sense once teased out in any and all of its implications (I have shown multiple ways the argument could be understood by its hearers [including its author]).

One final potential interpretation comes to me. He seems to be using “consciousness” as personhood (which contains epistemology, but is not itself epistemology). And while the first premise (1+) would still be true, the second again would be utterly mystifying. Why is it that we cannot derive our existence from God’s personhood? If we move to suggesting that no being can derive its existence from another person, I think again that is demonstrably false; but even if all such counterexamples fail, I find that particular premise utterly unjustified. If the author expects people to take the argument seriously, he owes an account of which of these above options he intends, and if none, a better argument itself!


                [1] This is not to say that whatever exists is a person, but rather the converse; whatever is a person exists. Thus, we shouldn’t be surprised if a conscious person also exists.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

On the Doctrine of Separation

Unfortunately, the doctrine of separation is an issue not spoken of by the right people, and a mantle too often embraced by legalists and those who would tear other Christian brothers and sisters down. It is a biblical issue and should not be ignored. For most people, the doctrine of separation is a strange-sounding issue. People tend to embrace the same type of idea as found in the phrase, “judge not,” and then not separate from anything. Others find in the term “separation” biblical justification (indeed, an injunction!) to demand others conform to their way of life on a host of issues (conveniently arbitrarily applied, of course). This shall be a brief study on the positions of separation in the Bible.

1. Separation from the world.

This does not mean separation from the planet Earth. That simply cannot be done by anyone apart from astronauts. Nor does it mean to physically avoid all other people who reside in the world. What does it mean then?

1 John says, “Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” John typically uses the “world” in reference to sinfulness and darkness. Within this very same passage, John is clearly comparing “light” and “dark” (the former of which comes from Christ) to Christ and the world! In verse 16, it is clear what the Christian is to avoid: sins that come from the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. It is in the context of sin that we are to avoid the world!

For those of us raised in the Independent Baptist tradition, this answers an oft-nagging issue. How can we apply the doctrine of separation (which admittedly appears in the Bible) without using ourselves as an authority? How can we be consistent? The problem was just such a lack of consistency. For some pastors and teachers, the idea was to avoid the same type of music. For others, it was clothes. In addition to that, others would add certain activities. In contradiction to that, some activities were deemed completely fine; there was no need to separate. Yet, when we questioned why the specific activities were forbidden, we would be quoted “Love not the world” and “come out from among them, and be ye separate.” I hope one can see the arbitrariness and circular reasoning here.

Why do we abstain from X? Because X is done by the world. Yes, but so is Y. But Y is OK. Then why is X not also OK? Because we ought to separate from the world, and X is done by the world…

So what of the verse “come out from among them, and be ye separate”? This was found in 2 Corinthians , and while an entire article could be written on the Old Testament background of this passage alone, that will not be necessary. The passage is clearly speaking of things that are clearly sinful. Hence, it will not do simply to claim something is bad because someone in the world does it; rather, we are called to avoid those things that the world does that are sinful themselves! In another respect, this warning needs to be taken serious by those of a more liberal persuasion as it relates to Christian conduct. We ought not to act in ways contrary to what God has revealed. We are to believe God and not false teachers of false doctrines. The biblical idea of separation from the world, then, is separation from sin. I can think of no higher standard than that!

2. Separation from Christian brothers.

This is also a biblical separation. It is one that no one really wants to discuss, and among those who do, no one really wants to act upon it. In one respect I can hardly blame them. I am not leading a church in the pastorate; it is one thing to “talk tough” here and quite another to act in accordance with what one has said in the real world.

This is the idea of church discipline. Let us briefly discuss what church discipline is not. It is not “getting back” at someone, nor is it for righting a wrong or making recompense. It is primarily for the purpose of restoration. Matthew 18:15-17 is a great passage detailing church discipline being restorative, as well as Galatians 6:1-5.

When should we separate from fellow believers? First, when the process of church discipline has taken place (or should have taken place). I write that last caveat because too many churches are unwilling to go through with the practice fearing backlash of some sort. If everything in the process has been done prayerfully, sincerely, with an attitude of love and the goal of restoration, one can consider this fulfilled even if the church neglects its duty. There are multiple examples of this. The man who was sinning with his stepmother in open, public sin was put within a grouping of hypothetical people with which believers were “not to eat” (i.e., do not fellowship with them until they make this right [cf. 2 Corinthians, where Paul is wishing this brother to be restored {or at least a brother who had been rebuked and was now repentant}]) in 1 Corinthians 5:9-13.

Next, one should separate from fellow believers when they espouse heretical doctrines. As to what constitutes heresy, that is a different subject, but it is no light matter. It is explicitly stated one should be regarded as a heretic after two admonitions and rejected.[1] In essence, one should only separate from a believer in the case that he has gone through church discipline because of some sin or is teaching heresy (that is, a false Gospel or something false directly relating to the Gospel).

This should also teach us that biblical separation is not something done lightly. It is something done that means no fellowship is to take place whatsoever. It is not merely withdrawing from one’s presence; it is withdrawing from one’s life. For those who would not practice separation, they are ignoring a biblical injunction. For those who would practice it on women who wear pants, I caution you and urge you to read the biblical take on it. Separation should be practiced but only within the parameters set forth in Scripture.


                [1] This echoes the church discipline model, by the way (since the only way anyone would know of the heresy is if it was taught publicly, which allows a confrontation from the original accuser and then before the church itself directly, since the accusers would almost always be plural to start with).

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Metaphor Extensions

The metaphor is a wonderful thing. The authors of the Bible use it quite often to convey a literal truth represented by a symbolic idea. The motivation behind a metaphor is most often not to obscure (some of the parables in the Gospels notwithstanding [as they were intended to confuse the Pharisees]) but to illustrate.

However, metaphors are some of the most commonly misunderstood devices in all of Scripture. How are we to interpret metaphors? Does each segment or thing within a metaphor correlate to some other thing? If so, how do we recognize it? If not, how do we decide what does and does not belong? One thing that is for sure is this: do not “extend” a metaphor.

What do we mean by extending a metaphor? A metaphor is extended in the case that it conveys or expresses more “truth” than the actual intent of the passage or author involved. It is applying the illustration to other areas of Scripture, other ideas of theology, or even other thoughts or subjects within the passage itself. It is not the case that all uses of a metaphor are legitimate. We should examine a few as cautionary examples.

1. The metaphor of the dead.

First, let me be clear: I unequivocally support the biblical language of “death” in Romans and everywhere else it is used in Scripture. I am not saying these are not legitimate uses, nor am I claiming they do not mean what they plainly appear to mean. I am merely cautioning against extending the metaphor.

The metaphor of death is a powerful one. We know that the dead do not communicate with anyone, their body is nonfunctional, and they do not think, will, or do anything at all. But this is precisely where the extension of the metaphor occurs! Our Calvinist brethren (and they are brethren, just so everyone is clear) make this particular extension more than anyone else. They will read that mankind is spiritually dead, and so will claim, “a dead man cannot do anything; neither can he resist! He cannot will, act, or move. Therefore, God saves only those he wishes to be saved, and they cannot resist.” This metaphor is a favorite of Pauline theology, though it appears in James as well.

The problem should be seen immediately. First, it goes beyond the passage itself. That is, there is nothing in these passages that suggest, independently or put together, that all of these intricacies are being discussed. Second, it contradicts other metaphors. Consider in John 11 when Jesus answered those who said Lazarus was dead; Jesus responded that he was only sleeping! “Sleeping” is a metaphor or euphemism for death; but sleeping people are not dead. They are simply resting; they can get up at any time. Or consider the metaphor Jesus used concerning those who need salvation: they are sick (Matt. ). Sick people are not dead. In fact, sick people often have antibodies that help fight off the infection. So an extended metaphor here would mean people have a part in their own salvation.

Obviously, these metaphors are contradictory. But that is because they are only meant to convey specific points and illustrations! They are not meant to teach systematic theology in one shot![1] Romans 5 is about God’s love for the ungodly. God sent his own Son Jesus Christ to die for us, so that while the world was away from God, the world can be reconciled to him. That is all this metaphor in this particular passage attempts to teach, and it should be left that way.

2. “I am the vine, ye are the branches.”

This is a discussion by Jesus in John 15. Many aspects of this metaphor have been abused. As an example, consider the idea of “fruit.” This has been described as meaning “leading people to Christ.” However, this is completely unjustified; one will not find any reference to this anywhere in the passage. Fruit here only means the results of something. Those who are in the vine (Christ) will bear fruit off of their branches (the people showing the results of this). One can say that fruit takes good conditions to grow, and that it is the natural result of those right conditions. But this is unfaithful to the text; it is putting words into Jesus’ mouth.

Now, how can we tell what Jesus might mean by fruit? Look in the same discourse. Verses 12-14 detail that they are to love one another. Earlier in the same discourse (or later depending on whether or not John 13-18 constitutes an aporia) Jesus told them “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” (John 13:35)

3. The blind leading the blind.

This is found in Matthew 15:14 in response to the Pharisees’ being offended at Jesus’ teachings. Jesus’ point is that blind leaders of the blind result in both failing to know where they are going, and thus they fall into a ditch. But doesn’t Jesus know that blind people also have sharpened senses? Thus, they can hear better, and after all, those who have ears to hear are better off than those without. Of course this interpretation is ludicrous. Why? Because that is not what Jesus intended! It is not the intent of the author or speaker and it is not the purpose of a metaphor to extend to every part of the illustration a segment of “real life.”

How can you tell if you have extended a metaphor? First, check the immediate context. If it cannot be found there it is likely you have abused the metaphor. Second, it is not always true that every person in the story has a representation in the metaphor. If the speaker or author explains the point, take it at face value and do not apply the metaphor further. Only in the case that the metaphor or illustration virtually demands this (like a usage in the Old Testament that the passage in question explicitly references) can one do that. In short, avoid making up stuff. Any questions or comments? Share them please!


                [1] Interestingly, this is why people think all illustrations of the Trinity fail; the metaphor does not extend fully and completely. But so long as one illustrates the concept of three separate things subsisting on the same essence, the basic idea is shown.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Who is a Heretic?

Who is a heretic?

That’s a great question. It is a question far too infrequently asked and far too quickly answered. Of course, one’s answer will depend upon his theological tradition: if one is a Catholic, then she will answer a heretic is one who disagrees with the approved teachings of the Church. In that case papal edicts and the early and late councils will be consulted. If one is a Protestant (especially an evangelical), however, there will be more at her disposal. Perhaps it is to be in conformity with a denominational doctrinal statement or creed; perhaps it is merely to be in line with a particular church.

Lately I have noticed a trend among biblically-minded people to say a heresy is anything that is contrary to Scripture. Hence, any doctrine that is actually untrue is a heresy. This sounds good at first. However there are serious ramifications which must be discussed.

1. The entire body of Scripture is made up of many smaller propositional beliefs (that are all true).

2. Denying any one of these beliefs, or holding anything found to be in conflict with any one of these beliefs, is heresy (by definition above).

3. Any heresy makes the proponent of that heresy a heretic.

4. Any person X believes what they believe to be true about the Scriptures is true in each of the individual propositional parts.

5. Therefore, anyone who disagrees with X about any propositional truth in or relating to Scripture should epistemologically be regarded as a heretic.

6. Any heretic H should be rejected after two admonitions (Titus ).

7. Therefore, any H who disagrees with X about any propositional truth in or relating to Scripture should be rejected after two admonitions.

But something surely seems wrong here! Essentially, this argument (which is logically valid and sound if this idea of heresy is true) requires us at the very least to view every person who disagrees with us about anything in the Bible as a heretic. What follows is cookie-cutter Christianity. Either everyone must be identical to me in every doctrine, or I must be identical to them. Since there are quite literally no two non-cultic believers who believe all things alike, this means any person should regard literally every other person as a heretic. Sure, some doctrines the Scripture teaches are not easily understood. Yes, our strong intuition is that even the truths of Scripture are not accurately and fully possessed by any one person; that is, each of us, while believing our beliefs are true, nonetheless also embrace as true the belief that I am flawed in some part of my doctrine or theology (we just don’t know which part that is, obviously).

If the argument is wrong what premise do we reject? (4) cannot be, for it is logically incoherent to say “I believe that my belief X is wrong.” (1) is true for any evangelical or orthodox Christian. (3) may be a good candidate for rejection. In this case, then, the person would say simply because a heresy is held by a person it does not follow that person is a heretic. This, however, seems quite arbitrary. At what point does one become a heretic? After two heresies? Three? Virtually all definitions of “heretic” agree that it is “holding” such a belief (that is, it is known by someone that X holds a heretical belief). It seems just as obvious a heretic is one who holds a heresy as it is one who stole something is a thief.[1]

Since (5) and (7) are conclusions they cannot be rejected. (6) is a restatement of Titus 3:10, so it also should not be rejected. That leaves us only with (2). We should reject that if a belief held turns out to be wrong then it is heresy. Indeed, since the commonly-held belief is that each of us is wrong in theological concerns somewhere, it thus follows we are all heretics!

Then what is a biblical heretic? We don’t have many Scriptures dealing with the issue. In fact, we only have Titus 3. In an interesting discourse, it seems Paul is actually speaking here of those who would either deny grace-based salvation or deny the need for good works after salvation (I encourage you to read the entire book in one sitting; you will come away with much the same sense I think).

In Titus 3:10, the word for heretic is αιρετικον. It is the only time in the New Testament the word is used. So perhaps a clue is to be found in v. 11 in the word “subverted.” That word is εξεστραπται, also used only once in the NT. However, those words can also be translated as “divisive” and “perverted.” Interestingly enough, in Pauline theology these concepts can be shown to deal with those who are not even saved! Romans 16:17-18 speaks of those who cause divisions in doctrine who “serve not our Lord Jesus Christ.” See the emphasis on “our”? There should be no doubt these people causing doctrinal divisions were not saved. Further, the idea of “perversion” found in Titus 3 is suggested hereby to be linked to the idea of those people who demanded justification came by a measure of the law (cf. Galatians 5:12). The entire book of Galatians is in fact against the perverting of the true Gospel (cf. Gal. 1:7). The idea correlating to Titus is that the man’s sin (active voice) and self-condemnation are causing his perversion (passive voice).

I think Paul is saying a heretic is a person (unsaved, more often than not) who perverts the truth of the Gospel by either denying grace-salvation and embracing works salvation or avoiding any good works whatsoever (i.e., the idea that I can come to Christ but sin may abound—chances are good such a person is unsaved anyway). Not everyone is a heretic. Not everyone should be viewed as a heretic. I am open to any correction anyone feels is necessary. Comment below!


                [1] It’s worth noting that there are different “levels” of thievery, and likely different levels of heresy then under this definition. Some are clearly worse than others, some left it back in the past and no longer do it, etc. However, this distinction has no bearing on the analogy or the argument.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.