On God's revealed truth, continued

The answer to the question posed in the last post concerning the reliability of the Bible as an epistemological source can, in my opinion, only be arrived at within a theistic worldview. Clearly, we cannot believe that a writing is the word of God unless there is a God whose nature permits him to have this kind of relationship with human society. Apart from this, no writing can be rightly viewed on the level that Christians view scripture. While a collection of writings across a few thousand years might contain a great deal of valuable human wisdom and much historical interest, it should hardly be viewed as a guide by which we can reliably obtain moral and spiritual truth, unless we have the firm belief that its authorship ultimately transcends the intellect of man.
Again, we cannot arrive at this view unless we already assumed that a personal/ transcendent God exists, but once this is accepted, it begins to seem logical that He would have given us some form of revelation. We can see His truth revealed in many places and ways in this world: by the moral impulses we all have, the profundity and meaning of human emotion, thought, creativity, and knowledge, the beauty of nature, the mysterious rapture of love, etc. By these, many of the larger truths of life can be comprehended: we can see that there is meaning, even if we don’t understand it, that there is right and wrong, that there is a creator, who, we might speculate, is a creative, rational, and relational being, since that is how He made us. But this is all speculative, and in regard to our moral sensibilities, right and wrong are left so subjective to our own judgement as to allow us to build our own moral codes and condition our own consciences to the point that we commit terrible acts of injustice against others, and drift further from the principles which we, and ultimately all of existence, was made to embody.
It is in our very nature as humans to search for truth. We do so scientifically, by observing the physical world, psychologically, by observing ourselves, and philosophically, by examining the nature of both these spheres as they relate to each other and to the larger considerations of existence itself. We certainly do produce creative works that give insight into these areas of thought, many of which can be (to a certain degree) affirmed as true. Yet in Scripture, we see a higher level of revelation than I believe can be seen in any work of mere human authorship. Much of this is due to that which is often pointed out:
-It was written over many different years, and by different authors, but a grand, over-arching message of fallen humanity and a divine plan of redemption appears.
-yet this message does not appear as though one author simply picked up the pen of the previous author and began where he left off in saying roughly the same thing. The message of the Bible can only be fully seen when viewing the work as a whole. This is especially true in the Old Testament books of prophecy, law, and to some extent, the poetry and history, when things were foreshadowed that the human author could not have fully understood, or seen by his own power.
-Prophecies in one part are fulfilled later on, often in ways that could not have been intentionally played out by humans wanting to make them come true, as in the details of Christ’s birth, betrayal, and death.
-The miracles it discusses (and these will not be considered impossible by those who seriously accept the existence of the divine) give further evidence.
-All of this is well substantiated by geographical, historical, and literary evidence to which no other ancient writing remotely compares.
-The message that Scripture brings answers the inherent problems that we as humans must have, if indeed we view our existence in the light of theism. The solution of to the inherent moral problem of human sin achieved by Christ on the cross is the only satisfactory solution that we can have, and we are left with a hope of eternal life, glory, meaning and happiness in a relationship with Ultimate Reality that is the central to the desires of the human heart.
-It has profound personal effect on those who read it. This cannot be convincing to those who have not experienced it themselves, but for those who have, it reinforces conviction. The changed lives give a powerful testimony, too.
-To believe it seems like a win/win situation, in terms similar to Pascal’s wager: If we believe in it and it’s true, we have good news. If we believe in it and it’s not true, then either were nothing but worm food anyway and believing something nice didn’t hurt, or we’ll go on to achieve a higher state of being because of the good moral principles it promoted. If we don’t believe it and its not true, we’re missing out on something incredible in both this life and the next. If we don’t believe in it and it’s not true, it still doesn’t really matter either way, as long as we enjoyed ourselves, and perhaps, depending on the true nature of reality, lived a good life.
None of this is anything like conclusive proof, of course. For the theist, however, I think that it is very compelling, and even for the non-theist, I believe that it provides something worth chewing on.

On God's revealed truth

Last night, I had a dream. I wish I could remember what it was about, but I cannot. All that I remember is how real it felt, how much the experience resembled waking reality. Upon waking from it, I felt as though I had slipped from one reality to the next. It is a sensation that I expect most are familiar with.
Yet almost immediately after waking from this dream, a thought struck me: if this dream seemed so real, how can I be certain that what I experience now, even as I write is any more real? Being in possession of such a mind as loves to consider such philosophical questions, it was hardly as though this was the first time that consideration had occupied my psyche. Yet new meaning was given to it when considering it in this context.
Epistemology is such a terribly difficult matter, it seems to me. After waking this morning and giving it a little thought, it struck me how much knowing is like lifting an object: it’s not so hard, presuming it’s a fairly light object, as long as I am standing on another object. Epistemology in its fundamental levels is somewhat analogous to trying to lift an object while floating through outer space. In order to really know anything, it seems that we must first know something. Of course, this results in an infinite regress that brings us nowhere, so I must correct myself and say that to know anything, we must first assume something. We must, in a sense, "create" an object on which we can stand, with which all subsequently encountered objects can have relation.
Is this not what all knowledge must rest upon? We claim to know all manner of things, such as the nature and appearance of the world around us through science. Yet we need to first assume that our senses are reliable. I don’t see how we can conclusively prove that they are, but I believe we must make this assumption if our conscience reality is going to make any sense to us. We must also make the assumption that basic principles of logic are trustworthy, or else the entire framework of our perception of the world is apt to fall to pieces But now I get to the real crux of the matter: if we give such credence to the empirical and rational aspects of human experience, what difference is there in respecting other aspects of experience as worthy foundational assumptions? As a theist, I feel that the belief in a God is a valid conclusion of rational principles applied to observations of physical and metaphysical reality. However, I hardly arrived at my belief in God by starting with my own epistemological blank slate and proceeding upwards. Nobody, in practice, really arrives at his or her beliefs this way; after arriving at a set of beliefs, they are justified using these epistemological methods, and sometimes beliefs are, indeed, altered by this process, if the thinker has a proper attitude of intellectual honesty and genuine respect for truth. The epistemological base from whence I first believed in God was simply what my parents told me. It has obviously matured since then, but at the core of this belief is something experienced apart from the empirical, or even, strictly speaking, from the rational. Epistemologically speaking, I see no reason why what I perceive with my physical senses is inherently superior to what I perceive with my internal sense of awareness of moral realities of obligation to an order of reality higher than myself, or a sense of personal relation to God. In terms of human experience, which is the filter through which all reality must be known, the realities without are no more real than the realities perceived within. The main difference is that the latter cannot be as convincingly demonstrated to others who do not share the same experience, simply because there is nothing substantial to show them, or a way to allow their consciousness become contingent to my own in the same way that it might become contingent upon a perception or proposition that can be equally considered by both parties.
I, like most Christian theists, regard the Bible as an epistemological authority. It is not a primary epistemological source, in the sense that in my complete ignorance, a book fell into my hands one day and I arbitrarily decided that I would choose to view it as a source of reliable truth. In other words, I have to know other things before I can place confidence in Scripture, but, having arrived this position, there are countless things that I could not have known but for this revelation. That, it seems, is how epistemology works: the primary assumptions are not themselves sufficient, they are only stepping stones leading us to that which is. In my Christian worldview, God is the absolute centerpiece and foundation of all reality. He is the first of all things, even if He cannot be first in my personal epistemological experience. So, how can arrive at this position where I place faith in an archaic collection of writings known as the Bible? That is a big question in itself, and I believe that it deserves it’s own installment.
To be continued.....

A brief history of the world

There was, in the ancient myths, a place called Earth. Now to speak of the fabled Earthlings who dwelled thereupon is beyond all question a tragic tale, for they wanted nothing more than to be happy, but their inability in this regard surpassed even this desire. Yet they were in all regards the most absurd of all possible creatures, for their favorite of activities was to do just those things which made them less happy, and then invent a multitude of clever reasons as to why these activities, in reality, were doing just the opposite. They had been entrusted by their perplexingly patient Master with the gift of truth, which if they followed, would make them happy, but truth was too simple to be of any good: it just meant doing what Master told them, and anything that fell so far beneath their own brilliant ideas surly could not be of that much value. Among them were always those who possessed what was called wisdom, and they continually urged their fellow earthlings to abandon their quest and simply accept happiness without trying to invent it for themselves, but still more clever reasons were invented as to why this suggestion was altogether worthless. The problem was, everybody really knew that truth and wisdom were right. To this they would respond that un-wisdom was just as right, but that never completely made sense. That was their problem; they could not escape the nagging idea that things needed to make sense.
Then they invented psychology. It was very much like wisdom, although better, because it always agreed with their own ideas. What better solution could possibly exist: they could have truth, without having to worry about whether it was true! The problem in the first place, you see, was that truth had always been so strangely centered on what Master said; it was almost as though he thought that he knew more about what they needed than they themselves did. Psychology (which, by the way, was a gift given by one of their greatest prophets of un-wisdom before he made his departure in the customary cigar shaped box), was not the least bit concerned with what Master said, it was only concerned with themselves. Not only that, but Master’s messages, delivered by his rag-tag following of eccentrics who so shamelessly advertised truth, were always tremendously discouraging. All that they ever seemed to say was that the earthlings had messed things up most terribly, and that they were bound for certain doom and much greater unhappiness if they did not take his warnings seriously enough to throw out un-wisdom and psychology and accept the truth he wanted them to have. And he even had the audacity to suggest that this offer was somehow merciful; that they had all been very disobedient and that they really deserved to be stomped out forever and to be more unhappy yet than they were, and that the only escape from this fate was through a most painful sacrifice made by Master himself. They could only marvel at the absurd antics that Master went through to try to get them to follow truth and reason and all his other irrelevant notions. It was all such a waste: even if they wanted it, a plan like that could never really work! It was far to objective and not nearly symbolic and experience-oriented enough to be of any actual merit. And besides, giving up their freedom to invent their own idea of what was best for them was an awfully high price to pay for cheap fire insurance...

The world is flat

The world is flat
The world is flat, the ancients once did say,
Devoid of form, whereby we might explore;
The sky so lofty, a mere pastel array,
Not to be touched, but viewed with futile longing.
From whence would come a path, a door,
An ether to traverse, an end to weary yawning?
But who would rise and speak to disagree
That only romanced fools thus aspire,
That this pilgrimage, in truth, may never be
A winding way to fabled, unseen heights?
Is then this road so low, so strewn with mire,
But an endless line of lonely days and nights?
The world is flat, stretching on and on,
Into the horizon, but never unto dawn.
©2006

This is a poem (in sonnet form) I wrote yesterday that expressess a very nihilistic outlook. When I began writing it, my only intention was to comment on the dullness or lack of exitement in my life which I felt at the moment; the sense of wondering whether my life on earth might ever involve some truly significant experience, or whether I am condemned to spend the rest of it enduring a monotony of days without new relationships or turns of the proverbial page.
However, the more noticable tone of the poem is philosophic despair; a natural desire for an afterlife which the speaker knows is only romantic, naive fantasy. I never have felt this way, and so I found it surprising how much this poem expressed just that viewpoint.
One might comment on the apparent truth of what is expressed here: life certainly does feel hopeless and meaningless sometimes, and the lack of immediate satisfaction to our desires often tempts us to think that the longings within us are never to be met.
Yet the facts speak otherwise. The world is not flat, niether in shape nor value. Our experiences as humans are by their very nature qualitative. We cannot help but ascribe meaning, importance and value to things that happen to us and the choices we make. The desires and longings we have as humans are themselves evidence of this value: the apparent absence of meaning in life that we sometimes experience could not exist but for the reality that life somehow ought to have meaning. In the naturalistic viewpoint, from whence nihilism is derived, all concepts of meaning and value, of good and bad, of pain and pleasure, are unfounded and absurd. Let our desire to find an ether to traverse lead us all to the only source of meaning and quality in life: the reality of infinate/imminant God, the truth given us in His word, and the reconciliation given to us in His son Jesus Christ.

Welcome to my new blog! Why the name "lover of Truth"? Well, the purpose of this blog is to be a medium through which I might be able to share my thoughts on philosophy and theology, mainly. As a Christian, it is my firm conviction that all truth is God's truth. It is consequently my desire to search for truth as a way of gaining better knowledge of the universe, and particularly its creator. I want to respect ideas by virtue of their claim to truth, and not my claim to the idea. In his Confessions, Augustine had scathing commentary on individuals who loved ideas because they were their own, and not because they were true. I do not wish to join them in that error. Therefore, as I grapple with questions and tensions within my mind, it is my intention that I will do so with genuine intellectual honesty, which is inseperable with a love of truth. This, in my estamation, is the fundamental purpose of philosophy: to gain a more comprehensive understanding of God's created order, and the principles through which He created it, so as to conform ourselves to that aspect of His design which He meant for us to embody, and of critical necessity, a relationship with Him through faith in the reconciliation acheived for us by Jesus Christ, who said "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but through me." To be a lover of truth, therefore, is to love Christ Himself, and to love Christ is to love the God of the universe, who created us for just this purpose.