Worldview Comprehensive Exam - Question 3

NOTE: This is the final one of my comprehensive exam responses. Like the rest, it is unedited, was written in 80 minutes with no resources at hand. I placed this one last because, along with the first one, it serves as a framework for my own understanding of apologetics and my personal apologetic strategy. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, comments are welcome.

Question #3. Discuss and defend against major objections your view of the role of using evidences and presuppositions in apologetics.

My fundamental approach to apologetics, what I will ‘discuss and defend,’ is an “integrative classical apologetic” approach, illustrated most powerfully in the ministry of William Lane Craig (reasonablefaith.org). I will defend an approach that begins with rational argumentation and demonstration of the probable truth of Christianity.

Apologetics rightfully begins as a personal encounter with another person. There are, of course, impersonal apologetic encounters – over the internet, through written works, etc. – but each of them presume a personal encounter at least on the intellectual sphere. More frequently, our apologetic encounters are truly personal – engagement with another person, a skeptic, seeker, or doubter on a personal, one-to-one (or small group) level.

As such, apologetics must recognize certain truths about the person we are engaging. First, they, like us, are created in the image of God. They are endowed with reason and intellect. They contain within themselves an inherent desire to know and worship God. They are endowed with the freedom to choose, the ability to make real, meaningful choices between good and evil.

Second, they are, like us, radically fallen. The fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden has consequences for all their offspring, which includes every human being. The fall has affected not only their relationship with God (which is irreparably broken), but also their religious and intellectual capacities. Thus, whereas pre-Fall our religious desire was oriented toward God, post-Fall our religious desire is opposed to God.

However, third, the results of the Fall do not result in a total and complete lack of common ground between believer and unbeliever. Christians and non-Christians share a great deal in common, and the common ground establishes the possibility of dialogue and discussion. In personal encounters, however, we will often have to identify the common ground that exists between us and our friend. It will not always be the same!

A. Awakening Religious Desire

A next step in apologetic encounters is awakening religious desire within our partner. Why ought they even to listen to appeals to consider Christianity? I am convinced that within our culture, people are spiritually hungry, but often do not even realize it. Thus, I begin with an account of my own religious experience of growing up a convinced, but empty atheist. The worldview without Christ, particularly the naturalistic modern worldview, is an empty, hopeless, meaningless, purposeless existence. I experienced it, and I felt its powerful nihilism.

However, most contemporary functional atheists do not consistently think through the consequences of their worldview. They see life without God, but seek to retain meaning and purpose within it. Like Loyal Rue, they embrace (or proclaim) a “Noble Lie,” something to retain a semblance of purpose even though it’s a myth. Or, like Richard Dawkins, they seek to proclaim that, despite the fundamental meaningless of life, we can construct something meaningful out of it. Or, like Camus and Sartre, they insist that we must simply act and existentially make life meaningful. But thinking it through, the naturalist must end in a Nietzschean nihilism. If there is no God, there is no eternal life, there is no ultimate purpose in life, there is no meaning in life. There is no hope. There is only bleak, hopeless, infinite darkness in the universe of man. What is man, in the absence of God? An insignificant and doomed member of an insignificant and doomed race on an insignificant and doomed planet within the immense scope of a boundless universe (which itself may then be but an insignificant and doomed member of an infinite multiverse).

But God has created us such that we are existentially incapable of living within that framework. Man matters, and we all know it. We all live that way, even if our worldview denies it. Thus, the Christian apologist will seek to uncover the presuppositions of the one he is engaging, demonstrating the logical end of their worldview. If they embrace a thorough materialistic naturalism, they end up with no purpose, no meaning, no life after death. Nothing of substance or hope. But they cannot live that way. Schaeffer calls this taking the roof off – removing the hedge of protection that people seek to erect to insulate them from the logical extensions of their worldview. Alternatively, he calls it identifying the point of tension within their worldview. Van Til calls it showing the irrationalism and unliveability of the non-Christian worldview. Each way of putting it is correct. Essentially, the apologist must uncover and explain the full nature and scope and consequence of the worldview presuppositions that our friends have and hold. While on its own, this seems (according to Schaeffer) a cruel and cold act, it is actually an act of self-giving love – bringing the other person to the point where they recognize the emptiness of their own worldview, and may consequently be open to considering the truth of the Christian worldview.

B. The Place of Evidences and Proofs

Having (hopefully) brought our apologetic referent to a place where they are willing to consider the faith that is within us, we can turn to demonstrating the truth of the Christian faith on the basis of theistic proofs and evidences.

For the modern naturalist, mere consideration of the existence of God may be a difficult intellectual step. Thus, utilizing the theistic proofs is helpful in showing the rationality of belief in basic theism. That is, before considering Christianity per se, it is often necessary to help people see the probability of the existence of God. Of these, the cosmological, moral, and experiential are the ones that I consider to be the most powerful and persuasive.

The cosmological argument for the existence of God stems from a basic argument: (P1) Everything that begins to exist has an external cause; (P2) The universe began to exist; (Conclusion) Therefore the universe has an external cause. The first premise has been historically unquestioned. It is self-evident that things which begin to exist have a cause outside of themselves. Some insist that contemporary quantum mechanics call this premise into question; however, the products of quantum vacuums are not the result of something coming from nothing. Rather, quantum vacuums themselves contain a rich structural environment which permits the production of quantum particles. The self-evident truth is that nothing comes from nothing, and nothing ever has or will.

The second premise has historically been rejected. Greeks and modernists alike posited the eternality of the universe in a steady state. If the universe had always existed, it did not have a beginning point as such; therefore, there is no need to posit and external cause (creator) for it. On logical grounds, medieval Islamic and Christian theologians argued that there could not be a literal infinite past to the universe – that it was logically incoherent. Examples like Hilbert’s Hotel help to illustrate the difficulties inherent within an actual infinite series.

However, it was not until the rise of Big Bang cosmology in the 20th century that Christian apologists came to take hold of the cosmological argument as a primary proof for the existence of God. Big Bang theory (derisively named by Hoyle) points to a singularity in the past, a point at which the density of the universe was infinitely high, and the space it occupied infinitesimally small, such that all known laws of physics break down at that point. The evidence provided by red shift, cosmic background radiation demonstrate that there is a beginning to the universe – a point at which the space-time continuum begins, exploding into existence out of, literally, nothing. The point is, the scientific evidence demonstrates that there is a beginning to the universe, or that, according to the second premise, “the universe began to exist.”

Granted, some physicists and astronomers seek to avoid the implications of Big Bang theory by positing an oscillating universe, or a Hawking-type imaginary time/no boundary condition; but these are attempts to avoid the obvious implications of what seems self-evident in Big Bang theory – the universe had a beginning, and therefore requires an external cause to bring it into existence.

The moral argument for God’s existence works from the innate moral consciousness of mankind, combined with our acknowledgment of our own failure to live up to our own moral standards, and argues that there must be an external law-maker who gives the moral law. C. S. Lewis nicely summarize the moral argument in his Mere Christianity; Timothy Keller explains it succinctly for a 21st-century audience in his Reasons for God. Man cannot live amorally. We all acknowledge the existence of a moral code. Yet the moral code cannot originate within ourselves (individually) or our society (as a collective), because in either case, the source of the moral code would be insufficient to ground a truly objective morality.

However, we all acknowledge not a particularistic morality, but rather a transcendent morality that applies to all people at all times, whether they like it or not and whether they admit it or not. Hence, Lewis famously argues that morality must be transcendent, otherwise there would be no point in having fought the Nazis. If Nazi morality was simply different than British, then why send all those Brits to France or Holland to die trying to eradicate Nazi morality? If the Holocaust was simply the expression of a different social contract, why react so viscerally and violently against it? Again, our inherent and innate crying out against the injustice and horrors of events like the Holocaust are evidence of a transcendent moral code which we expect all human beings in all times at all places to live up to.
Such a moral code cannot find a suitable foundation in either sociobiology or social contract theory – the two major alternatives to theistic ethics. If morality depends upon us, then it may change tomorrow. The Holocaust might be right tomorrow. Rape might be right tomorrow. Self-sacrificial love could be wrong tomorrow. Or, when we achieve our next “evolutionary step,” morality could change. Thus, perhaps the Nazis were more highly evolved than the rest of us, and we all wiped out the next manifestation of human evolution in World War II. Yet this approach is simply implausible and unliveable. That is not the way we approach ethics. The only sufficient grounding for objective morality is a transcendent moral source – something outside of human morality which grounds our ethics; namely, God.

The argument from religious experience is twofold. First, it points to the religious experience of billions of people throughout the ages, stating that the vast majority of human beings have been incurably religious. All those billions of spiritual human beings could not be wrong; but a naturalistic worldview requires them all to be wrong if there is no God. Second, it points to the unquenchable religious desires that exist within all of us – the drive to know and worship the divine, and the yearning for eternal life. Both these desires are evident from the dawn of human civilization; all human societies have had religious expression and the desire for eternal life. Again, if all there is is stuff, this is incomprehensible.

Critics of such classical / evidential apologetics will argue two things: (1) the cosmological (and moral and experiential) argument is not conclusive or certain; and (2) the cosmological argument does not establish Christianity itself, only a bare theism, or even deism. On both counts, they are right. However, their criticism is simply irrelevant, for the argument is not intended to be or do either. Theistic arguments and proofs are used when someone is open to the possibility of theism. Alternatively, they are useful when someone insists that it is irrational, stupid, or otherwise irresponsible to believe in the existence of God. In the first case, theistic proofs give people strong, persuasive (though admittedly not iron-clad) reasons that they ought to believe God exists. In the second case, theistic proofs show skeptics that there are rational demonstrations of our faith, that we are well within our epistemic rights in assenting to such proofs as the cosmological argument as rational support for our Christian faith.

In reply to the second criticism, I must again admit that they are absolutely correct. But the theistic proofs do not exist in a vacuum either. We use them as a tool in our toolbox; one part of a personal apologetic which is intended to also consider evidences related explicitly to the truth of the Christian faith. If we use the cosmological argument in isolation from everything else, then yes, the criticism is valid and telling. However, since we do not, but rather move on from such theistic proofs to consider the reliability of Scripture and the proofs of the resurrection of Jesus, the objection is muted.

The theistic arguments for theism can be helpfully supplemented by two things: (1) a response to the problem of evil (a defense or theodicy); and (2) a philosophical case for the possibility of miracles. Both are helpful, but are beyond the scope of this essay (and particularly the time I have remaining!).

Supplementing the theistic proofs and rational arguments, my apologetic approach moves on to consider specific evidences for the truth of Christianity. First, the defense of biblical reliability (outlined in answer to Question #2 above) is essential. Christianity is founded upon the inerrancy, inspiration, and authority of Scripture. Thus, we must be able to point to the reliability of Scripture as the source of our faith.

Of course, at this point, Van Til or some comparable presuppositional apologist will turn red in the face. “How can you argue FOR the reliability of Scripture?!?!?! You must begin with the authority of Scripture! It is not a conclusion of apologetic argument, but rather the beginning point.” However, a presuppositional apologist will need to make an argument for adopting Scripture as the starting point for apologetics himself. And on what basis do they do so? Often they insist (as does Van Til) that nothing makes sense unless we do accept Scripture as the starting point. That is, all other starting points for human thought and discourse end up providing insufficient basis for rationality. But why should this matter? Why is reason important? The presuppositionalist is simply acknowledging what the classical apologist uses as an essential starting point – we have to acknowledge the legitimacy of human reason in order to have an apologetic conversation at all! The presuppositionalist is concerned about elevating human reason to autonomous magisterial status – a legitimate concern, but not a flaw that the classical apologist is committed to falling into. I just think it is ironic that presuppositional apologetics object to the classicist’s use of reason, when their only method of establishing the sufficiency of Scripture as an apologetic starting point is, itself, reason.

Nonetheless, there is some merit in the presuppositionalist’s concern that we argue for, rather than from, the reliability (inerrancy, inspiration, and authority) of Scripture. However, their criticism misses some of the existential point of modern apologetics. The impact of higher biblical criticism over the past 300 years has been devastating, both within and without the church. The vast majority of non-Christians are avowedly convinced that the Bible is an unreliable, mythical, figment of early Christians’ imaginations. Many even within the church (Strauss, Reimarus, Schleiermacher, Crossan all think they are saving the church, not destroying the faith) have bought into the unreliability of Scripture. To approach the average nominal Christian or convinced non-Christian (e.g., the Muslim who thinks Scripture to be corrupted) and simply say they should believe this because the Bible says it is so, is insufficient to begin with. That is, we cannot legitimately use Scripture as our starting point, when the person we are conversing with disavows the reliability of Scripture. They simply will not listen to us. If that is our goal, then perhaps we can go ahead and speak to ears that are unhearing. But that is not the apologetic method we observe in the New Testament. Yes, Paul frequently gets frustrated with the Jews in the synagogue when they refuse to listen, refuse to repent, continue stridently in their opposition to the Gospel. But he continually begins with where people are at, and seeks to bring them to a rational acknowledgment of the truth of the Gospel. When evangelizing Jews (giving them the reason for the hope he has), he uses Scripture liberally and continually; when evangelizing Gentiles (giving them the reason for the hope he has), he does not refer to Scripture near so frequently, indeed often beginning with their own poets or religious expressions (e.g. Acts 17).

In short, before many of our contemporary skeptics and seekers will listen to what the Bible has to say, they need to be convinced of why they should listen to what the Bible has to say. Why is it trustworthy? How historically reliable is it? Once we have demonstrated that, we have removed rational obstacles to them considering the claims that the Gospel makes upon them.

From the argument for biblical reliability, it is essential to move on to two fundamental points: (1) the self-understanding of Jesus Christ; and (2) the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Again, both elements are crucial, but time prevents me from deep consideration of them herein.

The self-understanding of Christ is examined in order to demonstrate who Jesus thinks He is. The need is to show that Jesus cannot be considered just a prophet, just a teacher, or a wandering cynic (Crossan), or an eschatological prophet (Schweitzer), but rather that Jesus presents Himself as being God in the flesh. This is established on the basis of the titles used by Jesus to refer to Himself: (a) Son of Man (the divine figure of Daniel 7:13-14); (b) Messiah; and (c) Son of God (in unique intimate fellowship with God the Father in most un-Jewish fashion). It is further confirmed by Jesus’ actions, which assumed divine prerogatives: (a) forgiveness of the sins of others (e.g. Mark 2:1-12); (b) teaching with authority reserved for God (e.g. Matthew 5-7), even correcting rabbinic misunderstanding of Torah; (c) healing without regard for temple procedure or sacrifice; (d) claiming to determine men’s eternal destiny. The claims made through Jesus’ words and works is what ultimately gets Him crucified. The sissy Jesus of the Jesus Seminar and other liberal scholarship simply isn’t radical enough to bother with! Furthermore, the self-understanding of Jesus is confirmed through the understanding of the first generations of Christians, who immediately began to worship Jesus as equal to Yahweh (in most un-Jewish fashion). Why?

Because of the resurrection of Jesus on the third day after His crucifixion. The resurrection is unquestionably the pivotal historical event in the Christian faith, and (from a Christian perspective) in all of human history. Jesus Christ is crucified, but on the third day, so the Christian claims, was raised from the dead, and 40 days later ascended into heaven. The resurrection precipitates a radical change in the worldview of the 1st-century Jewish disciples of Jesus. They begin to worship Jesus as God; they begin worshiping not only on the Sabbath day (the seventh day of the week), but also on the Lord’s Day (the first day of the week); they no longer consider the temple the pre-eminent focal point of worship and faith.

The culmination of Christian apologetics, then, is pointing to the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Thus, Craig concludes his Reasonable Faith with a lengthy chapter on the truth of the resurrection; thus, I conclude apologetic arguments and series with the resurrection as well. If Jesus is raised from the dead, this is the crowning confirmation of the truth of Christianity. However, the resurrection is also highly doubted today, again, even within the Christian Church. In our generation, the scholarship and public appearances of John Dominic Crossan have been powerful in persuading many that the resurrection is a ‘metaphor,’ speaking of the continuing empowering presence of Jesus with his disciples community, rather than a literal concrete historical fact in space and time. The metaphor of resurrection is, in my view, the dominant understanding of the resurrection in Canada today, including in most segments of the Christian Church.

Thus, pointing to a historical argument in support of the historicity of the resurrection is crucial. Certain historical facts are crucial in making this argument.

(1) The crucifixion and death of Jesus. Not really doubted by anyone outside of Muslim circles. Nonetheless, it is good to be able to point to Gospel and secular sources which confirm that Jesus died by crucifixion.

(2) The burial of Jesus by Joseph of Arimathea. Crossan disputes the burial, arguing that Mark invents Joseph and the other gospel-writers extrapolate from Mark’s invention. However, there is literally no documentary evidence in support of Crossan’s thesis, and no good reason to dispute the burial story.

(3) The discovery of the empty tomb by women on Easter Sunday. This is most frequently doubted, sometimes through a surface reading of 1 Corinthians 15:4, which does not explicitly mention the discovery of an empty tomb. However, as that passage goes on to discuss the appearances of the risen, physical, Jesus to many witnesses, the empty tomb is clearly presumed.

(4) The appearance of Jesus to many, including the skeptic James and the opponent Paul and a large group of about 500 people. The appearances demonstrate that the resurrection was not a hallucination (hallucinations don’t happen to large groups at the same time). The conversion of James demonstrates that Jesus appeared not only to friends, but also to doubters. And Paul’s conversion is instrumental.

(5) The transformation of the disciples, from fearful cowards into bold proclaimers.

(6) The early preaching of the resurrection in Jerusalem, the very place where the crucifixion occurred. It is striking that there is absolutely no historical record of anyone denying the existence of the empty tomb, despite the early preaching of the resurrection in Jerusalem.

N. T. Wright concludes (rightly) that the birth and growth of the Christian Church in the first century is entirely inexplicable unless Jesus Christ truly was raised from the dead. He is correct. However, it is a fact that many people, despite knowing the arguments and acknowledging the evidence, deny the conclusion. Why?

This is where presuppositions come into play. After examining the theistic proofs and considering the evidences for the truth of the Christian faith, if our conversation partner does not acknowledge the truth of Christianity, it is necessary to consider the impact of their worldview presuppositions. Van Til and other presuppositionalists rightly emphasize the role of worldview in preventing people from being able to consider and embrace the truth of Christianity. Once we work through our apologetic, and demonstrate that Christianity is fully rational and embraceable, we can turn and show someone the reasons why they personally find it difficult or impossible to accept it. Here, the presuppositional insight into the noetic effects of sin, and man’s desire to be autonomous, is helpful and essential.
Thus, in a well-rounded, comprehensive apologetic strategy, it is essential to emphasize the use of reason and evidences. However, it will also become necessary to consider presuppositions, and expose the faulty presuppositions of people who will not accept the evidence for the faith.

World Religions Comprehensive Exam - Question #3

NOTE: This is the final of my three world religions comprehensive exam questions. Early next week I will post the third of my worldview & apologetics exam questions. As a reminder, these are unmodified versions of essay exam responses - I had 80 minutes for each question, with no resources at hand. This one was fun to work through - hope you enjoy it!

QUESTION C. A few scholars and any number of anti-cult activists see parallels between Islam and the LDS Church. Compare and contrast the rise and development of these two movements and then evaluate the potential of the LDS as a “new Islam”.

About a month ago, I talked to a friend in Edmonton who is now the youth pastor at a small Baptist church. Years ago he led a student mission trip to Utah, and has engaged in significant research into the history and doctrine of the LDS Church. I mentioned to him that I was researching the comparisons between Islam and Mormonism. His response was immediate: “Oh yeah, there are such close parallels; it’s so obvious!”

Two days ago, I had a conversation with a neighbor who is studying at the seminary, and mentioned that I was preparing to write on the parallels between Islam and the LDS Church. His response was just as immediate: “I don’t see it; what are you talking about?”

Is there a legitimate parallel? In this essay, I will argue that there are a number of historical and theological parallels between Islam and the LDS Church, both in their origins and development. However, I will conclude that the discontinuities are greater than the parallels, and that the LDS actually has the potential to be a stronger, more influential Islam.

I. Historical Context

Islam and Mormonism both arose in a context of significant religious turmoil. Mohammad’s Arabia had been dominated by polytheism for centuries; small communities of monotheistic Jews and Christians were present, but relatively unimportant on the Arabian peninsula. There was also, however, a smattering of emerging Arabic monotheists. The global Christian community during Mohammad’s day was fractured and divided – Nestorians, Monophysites, Greek Orthodox, and Roman Catholics viewed each other with considerable suspicion. The powerful Empires persecuted the Nestorian and Monophysite ‘heresies’. It also seems that the form of Christianity with which Mohammad was most familiar was some unknown perversion of the faith, which worshiped God the Father, Mary his sexual consort, and Jesus his biological offspring (a distinctly unorthodox trinity, to be sure).

Joseph Smith’s American context was similarly embroiled in religious upheaval. Christian monotheism was the unquestioned truth of the day, but Protestant America was divided and fragmented. The Restoration movements (Campbellites) were getting underway, and millenarianism (resulting eventually in the Seventh-Day Adventist Church) was strong as well. Yet there was considerable spiritual hunger in both historical contexts: monasticism and mysticism were powerful in 7th-century Arabia; spiritism and superstition in 19th-century America.

II. Founding Prophet & Revelation
The similarities between the founding prophet and revelation of Islam and the LDS are quite striking. Both men receive messages from angelic visitors – the angel Gabriel for Mohammad, the angel Moroni for Smith. On the other hand, Mohammad is a mature man of 40 at the time of his first revelation, while Smith is a youth of 14. Angelic visitations continue for both men, eventually leading to divine revelations.

Here the differences begin to emerge. Mohammad, who tradition holds was illiterate, receives divine revelation in distinctly oral form – the Qur’an is a command to ‘recite’, a recitation. God’s Word is dictated to and through Mohammad, and is later written down. Smith, on the other hand, is guided to uncover buried golden tablets, which contain the written Word of God preserved for him. Smith is then led to translate the divine revelation through the use of special glasses. God’s Word is already written down for Smith; he only needs to translate it.

Nonetheless, for both Mohammad and Smith, the angelic visitations and divine revelations are the beginning of something new, but simultaneously the recovery of something old and lost. Mohammad held that he was restoring Abrahamic monotheism, which had been revealed through the previous Scriptures, but was then corrupted and violated by later generations of Jews and Christians. Smith held that he was restoring primitive Christianity, which had been revealed through the New Testament, but was then compromised and corrupted by philosophical Greek Christians (Platonic Christianity).

Both Mohammad and Smith, then, viewed the former Scriptures as valuable but corrupted. Hence, the former Scriptures were now being supervened through God’s further revelations. The precise words of divine revelation were crucial in both cases – being particularly revealed through recitation to Mohammad and through inscribed translation to Smith.

A significant difference exists, however. Smith’s Book of Mormon (the golden tablets translated with the glasses) was a one-time revelation, which Smith transcribed and translated and then kept. Mohammad’s Qur’an was revealed over the remainder of his life (610 – 632 A.D.), one Sura (chapter) at a time. Smith did receive further divine revelations during the remainder of his life as well – they were recorded in additional books, particularly the Doctrine & Covenants.

Significantly, however, Muslims hold firmly that divine revelation ceased with the death of Mohammad. The revelations he received from the angel Gabriel were divinely-inspired and sanctioned; but there is no continued revelation through other prophets. Smith, on the other hand, insisted that he was not alone within the Mormon community in receiving divine revelation. Indeed, he emphasized that other Mormon leaders would continue to receive divine revelation after his death. Revelation, in LDS theology, is an ongoing process; revelation, in Muslim doctrine, is complete. This difference cannot be overstated – it represents a chasm between Islam and the LDS Church which cannot be bridged. The parallels have their limits, at which point the discontinuities rise up and outstrip them.

Scholars and (particularly) anti-cult activists often focus on the place of polygamy as a central parallel between Islam and the LDS Church. Indeed, both religions, in their early years, permitted polygamy. But even here there are strong differences. In the first place, Islam did not command polygamy; it merely permitted it within certain restraints and guidelines. It was not considered the norm. Early Mormonism, however, actively promoted polygamy as the rightful natural family relationship. Furthermore, Islam was always open with regards to its permission of polygamy (although many now argue that the Qur’an implicitly tells Muslims that they ought not to engage in such practice). Smith, on the other hand, clandestinely instituted polygamy within the Mormon community, and even denied that it was practiced for a time. Polygamy was viewed in 19th-century America as a bane of devilish intent, and open admission of polygamous practice would have been the death knell for early Mormonism. Finally, the LDS adherence to the doctrine of continuing revelation allowed the Church to outlaw polygamy in the 1890s in order to avoid extinction at the hands of the United States army. Islam never had the resources or the need to eradicate polygamy from its scriptures. To sum up: Islamic polygamy was the exception to the rule, not normative, always open and never denied; Mormon polygamy was hidden and denied at the beginning, then promoted as normative and spiritually healthy, and finally banned by further divine revelation. If this were the sole (or even primary) parallel between Islam and the LDS Church, I would insist that the parallel is so weak as to be meaningless in the end.

A final discontinuity with regards to the founding prophet and revelation of Islam and the LDS Church is with regards to the issue of succession. Mohammad quite clearly did not designate a means of secure succession. He did, apparently, appoint his immediate successor; but beyond that it was entrusted to the wisdom of the umma as a whole to determine future leaders. Smith, on the other hand, developed an elaborate hierarchy of priests and leaders from which future leaders would emerge quite naturally. The consequences of this difference is evident down to the contemporary situation, where LDS leadership is strongly institutionalized and organized, while Islamic leadership is fairly diffuse and localized.

III. Rise and Development

Both Islam and the LDS Church spread and grew rapidly. The political growth of Islam is well-marked through their conquests of Persia, Byzantium, and North Africa. The numerical growth of the LDS Church has been similarly remarkable. From inauspicious beginnings, the LDS Church has emerged as a major religious force in the world – what Rodney Stark calls the most recent successful New Religious Movement. There are evident parallels between the growth and development of Islam and the LDS Church; but again there are also significant discontinuities that throw the significance of the parallels into question. I will look first at the historical development, then at the theological development, of Islam and Mormonism.

A. Historical Development

Islam and the LDS Church began with a common perspective on the nature of the faith. Both desired to integrate faith with a full economic, political, and social system. Mohammad viewed the Islamic umma as the integrated, unified people of God; Smith viewed the LDS Church as the purified church who would live corporately in obedience to His revealed commands. Mohammad and Smith shared a vision of a comprehensive, cohesive, this-worldly faith. Their faith provided all that was needed for the political, economic, and social leadership of a corporate body.
Both Mohammad and Smith pursued the implementation of that corporate vision. Both initially met with considerable opposition from the established powers that be – the polytheistic pagans of Mecca and the unsympathetic Protestants of America. Both then fled to perceived safer havens – the hijra to Medina and the Mormon establishment of Nauvoo. Muslims mark their calendars by the hijra (A.H. – after hijra), because that is when Islam was able to take full effect upon a corporate body. The Mormon flight was a little more elaborate. Nauvoo proved to be vulnerable to external opposition as well, and after Smith’s death the LDS community began a long trek to present-day Utah. The Mormon calendar is marked by that trek – July 24 being the day that the Great Salt Lake came into the view of the pilgrims. There is certainly a strong parallel between the LDS and Islam with regards to the founding corporate vision, and the commitment to move to a place where that vision could be pursued and actualized.

But the parallel ends with the Mormon trek to Utah. Mohammad’s Muslim community immediately engaged in aggressive warfare with the polytheistic powers of Mecca and the Arabian peninsula, and emerged victorious. After solidifying their hold on Arabia, Muslim armies swept out of Arabia and conquered the tired armies of Persia, Byzantium, and North Africa. The LDS Church has no parallel for the Muslim conquests. Instead, the geopolitical circumstances that the young LDS Church encountered was not that of a decadent, declining world empire; but rather that of a strong, vibrant American nation flush with manifest destiny. When gold was discovered in the west, Utah became of significant interest to the American government. The Mormons were not left alone to achieve their utopian religious vision; federal troops interfered. After the conclusion of the civil war, the federal government turned its full attention to Utah, and the LDS Church found itself under siege, particularly due to the now-open practice of polygamy. Under intense pressure, and the threat of financial and corporate extinction, president Woodruff (?name?) ‘received’ a further ‘revelation’ that the time for polygamy within the LDS Church was now past. Polygamy was renounced and ‘abandoned’, at least officially (unofficial polygamy persisted for some years).

Thus, while the budding Islamic empire established its pre-eminence in its homeland and burst forth from there to expand a unified political-religious empire; the fledgling LDS Church withdrew to Utah, where it was besieged and eventually had to capitulate to the dominant federal government. In other words, Islam achieved its vision of a unified church-state; Mormonism failed to do so.

B. Theological Development

(1) Theology: The Muslim and Mormon conceptions of God are not only discontinuous, they are contradictory. The only parallel they have is heterodoxy with regards to traditional Christianity. The Muslim God is absolutely unitary, and fundamentally transcendent. The Mormon God is definitely triune, and fundamentally immanent. Allah created man; the Mormon God began as a man, and progressed to divinity. Muslims cannot intimately know God (setting aside the Sufi quest for the time being); Mormons can not only know God, they can become God themselves.

(2) Revelation: The Muslim and Mormon conceptions of divine revelation differ in a similar fashion. To Muslims, God’s revelation is complete and final. There is no need of further revelation, since God’s revelation through the Qur’an is complete. What is needed now is obedience and right practice. To Mormons, however, God’s revelation is continuous. God continues to speak to the elders and prophets within the LDS Church, and the body of Scripture thus continues to grow – this is anathema to Muslims! Furthermore, Mormons (like Christians) believe that the Holy Spirit speaks to believers to provide immediate divine guidance throughout daily life. Again, to Muslims, this is blasphemous.

(3) Founding Figures: Speaking ill of Mohammad is a capital offense in many Muslim countries. The prophet is held in high reverence. Indeed, the shahadah (declaration of faith) is not solely “There is one God, Allah,” but also, “and Mohammad is his messenger.” A Muslim will not smile upon reviling the name of Allah; but a Muslim will not tolerate reviling the name of Mohammad. Through the development of the hadith and sunna (the traditions of the further teachings and practices of Mohammad), the example of the prophet is held up as the perfect Islamic ideal. Mohammad never claimed to be sinless, but later Muslims make that claim for him. The situation is considerably different within the LDS Church. When apologists like Stephen Robinson try to emphasize the similarities of Mormonism and evangelicalism, they tend to avoid speaking of Joseph Smith at any length. Smith is not rejected or renounced; he is merely ignored and downplayed. He certainly does not hold the pre-eminent place in contemporary Mormonism that Mohammad continues to hold in contemporary Islam. (Indeed, I hear that the status of Joseph Smith has been removed from the main floor of the temple in Salt Lake City, and placed in hidden recesses of the basement.) Furthermore, Mormons emphasize that Smith admitted his own sinfulness and imperfection, a contrast to Islamic idealization of the prophet Mohammad.

(4) Priesthood: A final discontinuity in theological development has already been alluded to. Mohammad never established a priesthood, or a body of learned followers which would perpetuate the leadership of the Islamic umma. Smith, on the other hand, established orders of priesthood that would continue after his own death. Mormon hierarchy reaches its apex in the Order of the Twelve Apostles, who must have obtained to the highest level of priesthood (Melchizadek?) – it is from the Twelve Apostles that the future president of the LDS Church must arise. Succession in the LDS Church is organized and established; not so in Islam – hence the early split between Sunni and Shi’a over succession to Ali (the 4th caliph). Along the same lines, the LDS Church is a highly-structured, highly-institutionalized faith – a radical difference from the diffuse nature of worldwide Islam.

IV. The LDS Church as a New Islam?

Christian apologists and anti-cult activists are often strongly influenced by the relationship of Islam and the LDS Church to evangelical Christianity. From an orthodox Christian viewpoint, there are undeniable parallels between Islam and the LDS Church.

(1) Both arise in contexts where we can bemoan the failure of the Church to be the Church of Christ. The fragmentation, disunity, and disputation within Christianity in 7th-century Byzantium and 19th-century America is a blight upon the reputation of Christ’s Church, and fed the rise of new religious movements in Islam and Mormonism.

(2) Both faiths begin with male prophets who receive angelic visitations leading to new divine scriptures.

(3) Both faiths repudiate the corruptions within and deviations of contemporary Christianity.

(4) Both faiths contain misunderstandings of, or misrepresentations of, orthodox Christian belief.

(5) Both faiths represent ‘Christian heresies’.

(6) Both faiths grew with incredible rapidity, becoming worldwide faiths within 100-150 years.

(7) Fundamentally, both faiths are rejections of biblical Christianity, and are thus part of the ‘broad road’ of Matthew 7.

It is this last parallel which often dominates the mindset of Christian apologists – both Islam and the LDS Church draw people away from saving faith in Jesus Christ and into the false hope of a false religion.

If we get past those similarities and parallels, however, we discover (as I hope I have shown) that the discontinuities (and even contradictions) are far greater than the parallels.

What is the potential of the LDS Church as a ‘new Islam’? I think it is evident that there is no hope for the LDS Church to become a new Islam. Islam was, from the very beginning to the current day, a drive for a unified expression of religion, politics, and society. Islam is a way of life which governs an entire society. Islam expanded its reach through military conquest. Mormonism has not done any of that, nor is there any hope or expectation of its doing so in the future. The LDS Church has grown in the 20th century and beyond through evangelistic means. The dream of a utopian Mormon society has been replaced by the drive for a sanctified Mormon community within society.

From that perspective, however, the potential of the LDS Church in the contemporary world is perhaps even greater than that of Islam (aside from the incredible inferiority of numbers). The LDS Church is well-suited to accommodate itself to the reigning political philosophy of the society in which it exists. The emerging patriotism and political activism of Mormons in America is astounding, especially in comparison to the anti-American rhetoric of Mormonism in its first 50 years. The LDS Church can exist contentedly as a distinct minority in whatever context, seeking to grow through persuasion and evangelism, and not expecting to take political control or power. It remains to be seen whether Islam can do the same.

Is Mormonism a new Islam? No. There are undeniable parallels; but the discontinuities far outweigh them.

Worldview Comprehensive Exam - Question 2

NOTE: The same reminder - these are unedited versions of exam answers provided in 80 minutes with no resources at hand. Hope you enjoy them!

Question #2. Discuss issues related to the historical reliability of the Bible, including questions of methodology and archaeology. Include in your discussion representatives of the various issues.

The historical reliability of the Bible is a central issue for apologists, preachers, and theologians alike. From an apologetic standpoint, if the Bible is not historically reliable, then the founding facts of the Christian faith are in doubt. For some worldviews and religions, this would not be a crucial blow. Buddhism does not stand or fall on the historical veracity of biographies (hagiographies) of Gotama. Nor does Islam stand or fall (for the most part) on the historical reliability of the sunna. Mormonism quite clearly does not stand or fall on the historical reliability of the book of Mormon (or else it would have fallen quite some time ago!). But Christianity is uniquely tied to events in history which, if true, verify the truth of the Christian faith; but which, if false, disprove Christianity altogether. Chief amongst those historical facts are the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ – although certainly other historical facts are important to the Christian narrative as well (e.g., Creation, the Fall, the Flood, the Exodus, the miracles of Christ).

Christianity stands or falls on the truth or falsity of these historical events. As Paul insists in 1 Corinthians 15, if Christ has not risen from the dead, then our preaching is useless and so if your faith. If the resurrection is not historical (i.e. if it is a myth, or a metaphor, or a deception, or whatever else), then Christianity is a pack of lies, and we ought to pack our bags and go home.
But how do we know that these historical events did in fact happen? On what basis do we believe them? Primarily, we know about them through the record of Scripture. Genesis tells us about Creation and the Flood. Exodus tells us about the events of the Exodus (which are then the basis for much of the rest of the New Testament). And the New Testament Gospels are absolutely central, in conveying to us the truths surrounding the incarnation, miracles, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. In other words, to accept the historical occurrence of these events, we must accept the New Testament Gospel records as fundamentally reliable and trustworthy.

However, if a non-Christian friend asks you why they ought to believe that Jesus rose from the dead, and you tell them “The Bible says he did,” the natural response of the non-believer will be: “So what? Why should I believe what the Bible says?” Indeed, he will often continue, “Isn’t the Bible just a bunch of books written by people much later? Isn’t it full of myths? Didn’t people make it all up? Isn’t the Bible untrustworthy and unhistorical?” In other words, it is incumbent upon the Christian apologist, preacher, and theologian to (1 Pet. 3:15) give an answer to those who ask us the reasons for the hope that we have; we are to tell people why we trust the Bible, why we accept it as a historically accurate record of the life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

With that in mind, in this essay I will defend the historical reliability of the Bible, focusing particularly on the New Testament Gospels because, in my perspective, they are the fulcrum on which everything hinges. First, I will briefly recount the rise in biblical skepticism from the Enlightenment through the 20th century. Then I will argue that, contrary to the skeptical conclusions of New Testament critics, there are six persuasive reasons to trust the historical reliability of the Gospels.

I. The Rise of Skeptical Biblical Criticism

From their writing, the New Testament Gospels, individually and collectively, were treated by Christians as authoritative records of the birth, ministry, teaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. From Irenaeus onward, we hear the early Church fathers confess faith in the Four Gospels, the four accepted records of Jesus’ life. The historicity of the accounts was unquestioned by Christians. Even those engaged in heretical movements (Gnosticism, Docetism, etc.) acknowledged the Gospels as accurate and authoritative (except Marcion, who rejected all but an emasculated version of Luke’s Gospel).

Non-Christians frequently found fault with the Gospels (e.g. Celsus in the 2nd century, Porphyry in the 3rd), but rarely did they reject the fundamental historical narrative of the Gospels. The fact of the resurrection was, of course, rejected; but the account of Jesus’ life was not.

With the rise of the Enlightenment in western Christendom, however, the New Testament Gospels came under the skeptical scrutiny of scholars who had embraced a fundamentally naturalistic worldview. Their naturalistic worldview was at odds with the frank supernaturalistic worldview assumed and proclaimed throughout the Gospels, necessitating a redefinition or reinterpretation of the Gospel records. H. Reimarus thus recorded his growing doubts about the accuracy and historicity of the Gospels, followed by David Strauss and Friedrich Schleiermacher. In the 20th century, Bultmann represented the culmination of the German school of skeptical biblical scholarship, arguing that we had to ‘demythologize’ the New Testament to remove its supernaturalistic elements and make it compatible with a modern, scientific, naturalistic Western worldview. No one who turns on an electric light switch can responsibly continue to believe in the miracles of Jesus, according to Bultmann. American scholars involved in the Jesus Seminar (Robert Funk, Marcus Borg, John Dominic Crossan) adopted and publicized these critical conclusions and sought to argue that the Jesus presented in the New Testament Gospels is not a historical representation of the Jesus that actually walked in Galilee and Judea, but rather a theological imposition of the later Christian Church. While not a scholarly work, Dan Brown’s da Vinci Code represents a popularization of the conclusions of skeptical scholarship.

The fundamental assertions of critical scholarship, then, are that: (a) the Gospels are not reliable history; (b) our knowledge about the historical Jesus must be supplemented by non-canonical sources, particularly the gnostic gospels and documents; (c) our understanding of Jesus must be harmonized with a naturalistic worldview.

Interestingly, New Testament critics are at odds with the insights of ancient historians, who place much greater faith in the authenticity and reliability of the New Testament Gospels. For example, A. N. Sherwin-White suggests that we have good reason to trust the historical record of the Gospels. Why this disconnect? In what follows, I will seek to lay out a case for the historical reliability of the New Testament Gospels, demonstrating that we do have good reasons for trusting the historical record contained within them.

II. Date

First, the New Testament Gospels are written very close to the time of the events which they narrate. Even by the estimates of the most radical skeptical scholars, all four gospels were completed by A.D. 105; all scholars agree that Mark is written prior to A.D. 70. Since Jesus was crucified between A.D. 28 and 33 (I think A.D. 30 is about right), that places the earliest gospel within 40 years, and the latest one at most 75 years from the death of Christ. I would argue that the traditional dating for the Gospels is more accurate – that Mark was written prior to A.D. 60, Matthew and Luke both between A.D. 60 and 70, and John around A.D. 85. In this case, you have three complementary synoptic gospels written within 30-40 years of Jesus’ death, with John supplementing the synoptic about 20 years after that.

The early date of the Gospels is important for two reasons. (1) It means that there would still have been numerous eyewitnesses alive, both friends and foes. Christians who had walked and talked with Jesus would have been around to question, correct, and confirm the narratives of Mark, Matthew, and Luke. Non-Christians, who perhaps were involved with opposing Jesus or even demanding his execution, would also still have been around – to counter, question, and debunk any false or incorrect historical claims made by the Gospels. Significantly, we find no record of non-Christians disagreeing with the historical claims of the Gospels. (2) It means that there is not sufficient time for mythical or legendary accretions to be accumulated within the Gospels. Comparing the time-frames of the Gospels to those of the sunna of Muhammad and the hagiographies of Gotama Buddha, we can see that as the time between the life of the historical figure and the writing of the account of the historical figure increases, so too does the element of legendary additions. That is, accounts written close to their lifetimes have no or minimal legendary additions; accounts written much later have significant legendary additions (e.g. Buddha emerging from his mother’s womb fully-grown). This is also evident from a survey of later Christian gospels, like the infancy Gospel of Thomas, or the 2nd-century (or later) Gospel of Peter – the legendary elements are quite apparent. In Thomas, the young Jesus lashes out in anger and curses a playmate, killing him. In Peter, the resurrection scene is narrated, with two angels “as tall as the sky” leading Jesus, who is “taller than the sky” out of the tomb, followed by a walking talking cross. In comparison, the New Testament gospels are plain, bereft of legendary accretions.

II. Eyewitness Claims

Second, the New Testament Gospels all claim to contain eyewitness testimony. So, on the one hand, they are all written early enough that they certainly could be verified or debunked by living eyewitnesses. But furthermore, the Gospels claim to contain exactly such eyewitness accounts. Richard Bauckham, in his exhaustive Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, concludes that the claims to eyewitness status are authentic, and are demonstrated by both internal and external evidence (see IV and V of this essay).

Mark, the earliest Gospel, does not explicitly state who wrote it. Church tradition is unanimous in attributing it to John Mark, who was an associate of the early Apostles, and who wrote the recollections of Simon Peter (see Papias’ testimony). Thus, Mark is associated with the eyewitness testimony of the ‘head’ apostle. Matthew is written by one of the 12 disciples, Levi (Matthew) the tax-collector. Luke, while not an apostle, explicitly claims to have interviewed numerous eyewitnesses in the research and preparation of his Gospel. John, while the latest Gospel written, makes the strongest claims to eyewitness status – John 20 and 21 emphasize that this is the testimony of the one who saw these things. It is not necessary to conclude that the apostle John wrote the Gospel himself from start to finish; but it is unavoidable to conclude that whether it was John or his disciples who wrote the words contained in the Gospel, it is based (professedly based) on what John the apostle saw, heard, and touched.

The claim to eyewitness testimony is not limited to the Gospels. It is also evident in the New Testament epistles – again, 1 Corinthians 15 is a prime example. 1 John 1 is also a strong example, wherein John claims that he is writing of what he has seen, heard, and touched, and is now relating it to his audience so that they might know the truth of what they have been taught. The authenticity and authority of the apostolic teaching and tradition was based on the eyewitness status of what they were recounting.

A skeptic can certainly argue that the Gospels (and Epistles) are lying, and that they were not eyewitnesses. But what the skeptic cannot rationally conclude is that the Gospels never pretend or claim to be eyewitness accounts of what really happened. Sadly, this is what they often do. Crossan argues that Luke is not intending to write a historical account of what happened after Good Friday, but is rather simply telling people metaphorical stories about the disciples’ experiences. But that is what Luke is explicitly not doing. Luke sets out to tell his readers what really happened, and states so clearly in his preface. Ditto for John. The attempt of critical scholars to mythologize the New Testament violates the explicit purpose of the Gospels.

III. Manuscript Evidence

So the Gospels were written relatively close to the time of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. And they claim to be eyewitness accounts of those events. So what? Many contemporary skeptics (e.g. Bart Ehrman, Dan Brown, Muslims) argue that the texts that we have in our New Testament are not reflective of what was originally written. The text has become corrupt. Perhaps the autographs (original Gospels) would be historically reliable. But what we have has been revised and re-written by later scribes and theologians to reflect the emerging dominant orthodoxy. Thus we cannot be sure what exactly Jesus did do and say. That has been lost.
The argument that the New Testament texts have become hopelessly corrupt is most prominently featured in Islam. Mohammad claimed that God had given previous revelations to the Jews (the Torah) and the Christians (the Gospels, or injil), but that these revelations had become corrupted, so that God revealed his final revelation through Mohammad (the Quran).

Fortunately for Christians, and unfortunately for Muslims, there is no evidence supporting the thesis of rampant corruption of the New Testament text. Rather, the discipline of textual criticism has recovered, with almost absolute confidence, the text of the original autographs. There is, to be sure, considerable textual corruption in many manuscript traditions. But the breadth and depth and wealth of extant manuscripts allows a detailed comparison which establishes the original wording of texts. There are over 5000 manuscripts, full and partial, of the New Testament Gospels, the earliest of which go back to the 2nd century. On top of that, we also have citations of the Gospels from the early Church fathers, where the wording confirms the extant manuscript record. As a comparison, the Roman historian Suetonius’s works have less than 20 extant manuscripts, the earliest of which dates from 800 years after his original writing. Compared to other ancient literature, the manuscript evidence for the New Testament is overwhelming and conclusive.
Why then do critics reject the authenticity and historicity of the Gospels? As David Hall points out (The Seven Pillories of Wisdom), critical scholars refuse to treat the Gospels according to the same academic criteria with which other ancient literature is considered. Rather, they seek to apply modern requirements and worldview presuppositions upon the Gospels- if the Gospels do not meet these unrealistic standards (exact reproduction), then they must be questionable. But if these standards were applied across the board, our knowledge of ancient history would be, well, ancient history. We wouldn’t know anything, because nothing would be trustworthy and reliable enough!

IV. Internal Evidence

The historicity of the New Testament Gospels is further supported by the internal evidence of the texts themselves. We have seen that the Gospels were written early enough to contain eyewitness testimony, that they make the claims of containing eyewitness testimony, and that the manuscript evidence is strong enough to support that claim. But that in itself does not mean that the material within the New Testament Gospels is eyewitness testimony. All we have thus far is the claim to eyewitness testimony.

The validity of that testimony, the truthfulness of the eyewitness claim, can be further demonstrated by considering the internal and external evidence. Here we will consider the internal evidence of the texts.

When the police investigate a crime, they seek eyewitness testimony as to what happened. However, it is not enough for someone merely to claim that they witnessed a crime. Rather, the police want to verify that the person’s testimony is valid. That will require at least two things – (1) demonstration of the integrity of the eyewitness; and (2) confirmation of the truthfulness of their testimony through incidental details.

The character and integrity of the professed eyewitness is crucial to testing their truthfulness. If Robert is accused of a gruesome murder, and the prosecution’s key eyewitness to the crime is Robert’s avowed enemy George, who secretly covets Robert’s wife and business, then the judge and/or jury will be right in questioning the validity of George’s eyewitness testimony. If George has previously been shown to willingly perjure himself in order to impugn Robert, his testimony will be further undermined. On the other hand, if the prosecution’s eyewitness is of unquestioned integrity, their testimony will be of much greater worth. Imagine then, that the defense calls an eyewitness, Robert’s mistress Rachel, to the stand, who testifies that Robert could not have committed the crime, as the two of them were ‘occupied’ together all that evening. While Rachel’s testimony will not be immediately discounted, the judge will have to consider whether Rachel has anything to gain by defending Robert; whether she might perjure herself in order to protect him from conviction. (Incidentally, David Hume’s consideration of testimony would require that in the event that there is testimony for both the prosecution and defense, the judge would simply balance the two out, and conclude that there is no evidence on either side. Contrary testimony results in a wash-out.)

When we turn this criteria to the authors of the New Testament, we must ask whether they had anything to gain by telling falsehoods about the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Many critics have argued that this is precisely what happened; but they have difficulty in explicating precisely how the apostles stood to gain. Martyrdom? Death? Torture? Wealth and riches were certainly not on the line in the 1st century Christian context. One could make that argument for 4th century Christians – but they are not the ones who wrote the Gospels! Furthermore, applying the criteria of embarrassment makes it unlikely that the Gospel’s authors made their stories up – there’s simply too much stuff that reflects very poorly upon them, particularly in Mark’s Gospel!

More tellingly, when we turn to the issue of incidental details, the Gospel records prove themselves historically accurate. If police have a professed eyewitness to a crime, they will seek to uncover whether the person was actually at the scene of the crime by determining whether they can identify incidental details that they know to be true of the scene, but which are unrelated to the actual crime itself. The color of the paint on the walls; the clothes the accused was wearing; or anything else unusual about the scene.

The Gospels are remarkably replete with incidental details – details which flesh out the account of Jesus’ ministry, but which are unnecessary to the story being recounted. As one example, consider the healing of the crippled man in John 5. John paints a very vivid picture for us, describing the place – the pool of Bethesda; and even the number of colonnades present there. He also recounts precisely how long the man had been crippled – not “about 40 years”, but rather precisely 38 years. Given the biblical tendency to round numbers off and provide general estimates, John’s precision is an indication that this is historically veridical. Similarly with Jesus’ anointing by the sinful woman in Mark’s Gospel, Mark recounts the precise way in which the woman anoints Jesus – by breaking the bottle and pouring the perfume on him, rather than the more customary way of simply unstopping the bottle to pour some of the perfume out. The presence of these incidental details, of which Bauckham recounts literally hundreds, is strong evidence that the claims to eyewitness testimony are valid and authentic. The Gospel-writers were there, they saw what they said they saw, and are thus able to present compelling portraits of the events they narrate.

V. External Evidence

The external evidence supporting the historical reliability of the Gospels brings us to the discipline of archaeology. Archaeological evidence has been unearthed which supports the reliability of much of Scripture. For example, the healing in John 5 (mentioned above) was often questioned by critics because they claimed there was no pool of Bethesda, there was no Sheep Gate, and who would have five covered colonnades anyway? There was simply no knowledge of any such architectural structure in 1st-century Jerusalem, so critics claimed that John was simply making up those details to make it look like he was there, when in fact it is all imaginary. [This totally overlooks that John’s original audience would have known whether he was making these things up, and would not have believed his account if it was so transparently composed, but so be it.] Then, in the 1980s, archaeological digs in Jerusalem uncovered the Pool of Bethesda, and near it, an inscription of the Sheep Gate, and the five covered colonnades spoken of by John. This is but one example of archaeological evidence confirming the historical reliability of the accounts of the Gospel. There are numerous others for the New Testament Gospels – place names in John, persons mentioned in Luke’s Gospel. The discipline of archaeology has also been instrumental in verifying the reliability of Old Testament accounts as well. Critical scholars were fond of questioning the historicity of King David until the discovery of the ‘House of David’ inscription. Mind you, even with that evidence, scholars often still question the historicity of David; it’s just now they have to do so in face of contrary evidence!

It is important to remember, however, that archaeology has only limited power and scope. Archaeological evidence can support the historical reliability of the Scriptures. However, a lack of archaeological evidence is not evidence of historical unreliability. This was the mistake made by critical scholars in questioning passages like John 5. There was no archaeological confirmation of the Sheep gate, etc., thus they believed it was made up. Then they had to revise their hypotheses with each archaeological discovery. Archaeology can only serve a confirming role, not a disproving role, with regards to historical reliability. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

VI. Existential Evidence

Ultimately, the date, eyewitness claims, manuscript evidence, internal evidence, and external evidence which support the historical reliability of the New Testament will only bring us so far. People can be brought to acknowledge the general reliability of Scripture. But that is not the point of apologetics, nor is it the goal of Scripture. Rather, the purpose is to invite people into a living relationship with the Triune God through faith in Jesus Christ. Thus, when we defend the historical reliability of the New Testament Gospels, it is essential that we end with a Pascalian appeal to experiential verification. Christ does not invite us simply to consider the Gospels as a historical document, but rather desires for us to apply the Gospels to ourselves, to allow the Christ spoken of to enter into our lives.

Marriage supplies a pertinent analogy. I can write about the virtues of marriage, and the fulfillment and joy which is available to men who enter into and uphold a biblical marriage. I can speak of the ecstasy of marital union, the peace which comes from having a life-partner, and the intimacy which is unsurpassed in human relationships. I can even point to sociological data that demonstrate that faithful married couples express higher levels of sexual satisfaction than unmarried sexual partners or unfaithful spouses. But ultimately, I have to acknowledge that one can only appreciate and agree with that argument if they themselves enter into such a marriage (or are already in one). Words and arguments will only come so far – it is only as one experiences marriage that they can see what God can make it to be.
Similarly with the Gospels. There are indeed compelling rational reasons to accept the Gospels as historically accurate representations of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But that won’t get you there! One has to enter into relationship with the Christ of Scripture in order to fully appreciate the historical reliability. The Gospels are open to personal verification – God invites us into relationship with him, to experience the truthfulness of the claims made of and about Jesus of Nazareth in the New Testament. Our apologetic for the reliability of Scripture must end with such an appeal.

Philosophy Comprehensive Exam - Question #1

NOTE: Again, remember that these are exam answers - unpolished and unedited, and with no resources at hand. I had 80 minutes for each essay. This particular essay required me to delve into the field of epistemology, which is still new and challenging to me. It's also much more personal and 'stream-of-consciousness' rather than analytical. Hope you enjoy it!

QUESTION 1. As you look past the Ph.D., how might you understand the next step you should take? With what warrant will you choose to move to a new place or stay in the area, undertake one form of employment and not another, etc.? Will this be a matter of internal justification, external justification, or both?

Thirteen and a half years ago, God called me into full-time vocational ministry, making it clear that He desired for me to prepare for and enter the pastorate. Three and a half years ago, God began prompting me to go back to the school to pursue a Ph.D. in order to enter into a teaching ministry for the glory of His kingdom. Eighteen months ago, my family moved more than 3300 kilometers (2000 miles), from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, to Louisville, Kentucky, and I began doctoral studies.

I. Entering the Great Unknown

In many ways, coming to Southern Seminary was entering the great unknown. We had never lived outside of Edmonton, never traveled to the continental United States (although we quite enjoyed our honeymoon in Hawaii). I am a settler by nature, preferring to put down deep roots in a community rather than to move to a new place and form new relationships and connections.

However, as we anticipate completing doctoral studies, and consider ‘what comes next’, we have considerably more existential angst. We know that the next stage in our life will be, to an even greater degree, entering the great unknown. We know whom we have believed, and we know that He is able to fulfill His purposes for our lives. We know that He will be with us, directing our path, as we seek to be faithful to the mission He has given us. But we have absolutely no idea what the next stage in life will be. The vision we have is of returning to Canada to teach in a college/university/seminary setting, while also serving the church by bringing apologetic conferences, workshops, seminars, sermons, and Sunday school classes to local congregations. But we have no idea whether that vision will be fulfilled (immediately or eventually); we have no idea where we will move, no idea what type of job I will pursue/receive.

However, there are several spiritual and epistemological principles and foundations upon which we will employ as we enter into the great existential unknown. The spiritual principles and foundations are centered upon our living relationship with the Triune God, and are absolutely essential. However, they will not be the primary focus of this essay. Rather, I will focus on our epistemological pursuit of knowing God’s purpose and calling, and considering the justification that we will have for our next stage. First, I will consider the nature of God’s will. I will argue that we must distinguish God’s sovereign (and unalterable) will from His moral will. Moreover, I will insist that rather than speaking of God’s will for my life, we must more properly speak of God’s intentions or calling for my life. Second, I will discuss how we seek to know what God’s intentions for our lives are. I will argue in favor of the Blackaby’s traditional ‘specific-intentional’ approach to discerning God’s will, while insisting that the insights of Garry Friesen’s ‘wisdom’ approach is essential as well. Third, I will consider the issue of warrant and justification for our future endeavors – how will we know that this is God’s will? I will argue that (1) we are warranted in confidence that we are living according to God’s intentions if we are operating epistemologically in the context of a healthy relationship with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; (2) we obtain internal justification for our knowledge that we are following God’s intentions by the ‘cognitive rest’ or ‘peace’ that we experience; and (3) we receive external justification for our knowledge that we are following God’s intentions by a post-operative evaluation of our decision-making process in the light of consequent events and experiences [that is, hindsight and reflection]. In each of these aspects, I will emphasize Jay Wood’s notion of epistemological virtue – that we seek to live and make decisions in an epistemologically virtuous manner.

II. Does God Have a Specific Will For Your Life?

In How Then Shall We Choose?, three views of ‘decision making and the will of God’ are considered – Henry and Richard Blackaby’s ‘traditional’ or ‘specific-will’ approach; Garry Friesen’s ‘wisdom’ approach; and Smith’s ‘relational’ approach. A fundamental question must be asked of the Blackaby’s approach – namely, does God truly have a specific will for your life and daily decisions? Friesen insists that God does not, and supports his argument biblically. There is absolutely no biblical evidence, according to Friesen, that allows us to identify a specific will of God for our personal lives. Rather, the biblical differentiation is between God’s sovereign (or unalterable) will, and His moral will. God’s sovereign will reflects His eternal decrees, which are unchanging and unchangeable. God’s moral will reflects the holiness of His nature and character, and can be further separated into His effective (prescriptive) moral will and His permissive moral will. That is, in some cases God causes His moral will to be actualized, while in other situations God permits His moral will to be violated. Thus, for example, God permits Adam and Eve to fall into moral sin and rebellion – the fall of mankind is not a reflection of God’s holy (pure, sinless) nature and character, but is rather a violation of it, but nonetheless the fall is within God’s will, as He permits it to occur.

In no way, however, does the biblical discussion of God’s will speak of God’s particular or specific will for individual human beings. God’s will is an expression of His being, His nature, His character, and His eternal decrees. Thus, when we speak of God’s interaction with individual human beings, we should not speak of God’s will for their lives, but rather of God’s purposes, intentions, or calling upon individuals. When God reveals Himself to Abraham, then, God does not tell Abraham, “This is my will for your life;” rather, God calls Abraham out of Ur and into Canaan. Similarly, when God reveals Himself to Saul on the road to Damascus, he does not tell Paul, “This is my will for your life,” but rather calls Paul to a life of evangelistic ministry and reveals His divine purposes for Paul’s life and ministry. Thus, the Blackabys are certainly correct in insisting that God has and reveals a specific intention or calling for specific people; but they would be well-advised to speak in terms of intention rather than in terms of will.

III. How Will We Know God’s Intentions For Our Future?

I have argued that God does have specific intentions for us, and I sincerely believe that God has a purpose or plan for what my family will do when I have finished Ph.D. studies here in Louisville. But how do we identify it? How do we know what God’s intentions for our lives are? As a pastor in Edmonton, it was not an uncommon experience to have a young adult (or teen, or older adult) come and ask how they are supposed to know what God wants them to do with their life! As Christians, we desire to honor and glorify God in everything that we do. We want to live in the center of His will; we certainly do not want to embark on an educational or career path that will prevent us from fulfilling God’s purposes for our lives. So how do we identify God’s intentions for us?

A. The Blackaby Approach

Fundamentally, I am in accordance with the Blackabys’ approach – we must seek to learn what God desires of us, and God is faithful in communicating to us His intentions. A little over a month ago, I had an interesting conversation with a very intelligent friend here at the seminary. He insisted that God no longer speaks audibly and personally to Christians today – that God’s self-revelation in written Scripture is sufficient, and that personal communication between God and His people no longer occurs. I am convinced that my friend is wrong, based partly on the testimony of other Christians, partly on my own experience, and partly on my understanding of God and the nature of His covenant-relationship with us. Many Christians throughout the ages have testified to God’s direct communication with them. In my own life, I have experienced God’s direct communication on two occasions, both times of significant decision – once when God audibly called me to the pastoral ministry, the other when God audibly authorized me to quit working at the bank I served during seminary in the 1990s. I can no more deny God’s direct, personal communication than I can deny the trans-national verbal conversation that I had with my parents over the weekend. I know it’s possible, because I have personally experienced it. Furthermore, however, I would insist that God dwells within His children in the form of the Holy Spirit. The indwelling Spirit is the source of God’s communication with us. And the nature of God’s relationship with us is such that continued communication between God and His children should rather be expected than rejected.

The Blackaby model is built upon the foundation of such personal communication between God and His people. The Blackaby’s insist that believers must be radically open to receiving God’s intentions and purposes in their lives. The sources of God’s communication with His people is summarized by the Blackabys: (1) Scripture; (2) prayer; (3) fellowship; and (4) circumstances. I would suggest that Frame’s tri-perspectival approach to theology and epistemology is helpful in summarizing the means by which God conveys His intentions, purposes, and calling for our lives. (1) The normative approach – God speaks authoritatively through His Word, guiding and directing our life accordingly. For example, since God has commanded us to not commit adultery, it will be fairly clear that God desires me to reject the impending offer to star in pornographic movies when I graduate. (2) The situational approach – God speaks into our particular context through the circumstances that we find ourselves in. For example, as I pray and seek employment opportunities in the world of higher education after graduation, an unexpected job offer from a little-known Bible college in Lincoln, Nebraska could very well be God speaking to me through circumstances. (3) The existential approach – God speaks into our lives directly through interactive prayer and the voice of the Holy Spirit, and also through His people within the community of faith. For example, when I was in my final year of my Bachelor’s degree, seeking to understand God’s intention for my next step in life, God spoke audibly to me as I prayed for direction – “I want you to be a pastor.” It was clear, and I had to conclude that someone was crazy – either myself (for thinking I heard God speak to me), or God (for thinking that I ought to be a pastor). Or, again, the prompting to return to school to pursue a Ph.D. came from God speaking through other Christians – members of my ordination committee in the spring of 2006, and a trusted mentor in university ministry later that same year. Thus, I would insist that God communicates His intentions to His people normatively, through Scripture, situationally, through the circumstances He sovereignly ordains, and existentially, through prayer and other believers.

This raises two issues that identify regularly-perceived weaknesses in the Blackabys’ traditional approach to discerning God’s intentions for our lives. On the one hand, it is argued that much of life is ‘mundane,’ and not the subject of God’s communication with us. On the other hand, it is argued that we are not intended to sit around waiting for God to speak to us before we step out into action.
Both perceived weaknesses are valid concerns, but can be addressed and accommodated within the Blackaby approach, particularly by acknowledging and adopting the insights provided by Friesen’s wisdom approach to discerning God’s purposes. Friesen argues that God desires us to be more assertive and bold in our approach to His intentions. He begins by insisting that: “Where God has commanded, we must obey.” Thus, again, I must decline to accept jobs that require me to engage in sinful behavior and activities. But he proceeds: “Where God has not commanded, God has granted us both the freedom and the wisdom to choose.” Friesen’s approach, in many ways, is like that of my friend who denies God’s continuing personal communication with His children. God has spoken authoritatively in Scripture, and what Scripture commands, we are to obey. However, the vast majority of life is an application in wisdom of Scriptural commands – in those areas, we have both the freedom and the wisdom to choose how to live. Thus, God does not command whether I should remain in the States or return to Canada after graduation – He permits me to choose. God does not ordain whether I ought to accept hypothetical job offers from Orlando, Tuktuyuktuk, or Edmonton – I have the freedom and wisdom to choose.
First off, I must insist that I think Friesen is fundamentally wrong in such assertions. It may well be that God has commanded which of those three job offers I am to accept, but if I adopt (strictly) his wisdom approach, I won’t even consider the job offers from Orlando or Tuktuyuktuk after receiving the offer in Edmonton – I will ‘wisely’ and ‘freely’ choose to go back to my hometown to teach. If, however, I adopt (as I insist we ought to) a Blackaby openness to hearing God communicate His intentions to us, normatively through Scripture, situationally through circumstances, and existentially through prayer and the fellowship of believers, then God may well indicate that I am to accept the job offer in Orlando, despite the hellishly hot and humid climate I would have to endure thereby (not to mention the distance from all family and existing friends). Thus, I must remain open to hearing God speak and communicate His distinct, direct, personal intentions for my life and ministry; I cannot solely adopt Friesen’s wisdom approach to decision-making and the will of God.

Nonetheless, I must also admit that Friesen’s approach has a lot of wisdom, and needs to be applied as a supplement or corrective to the Blackaby approach. God may well convey a direct intention to my post-Ph.D. direction; on the other hand, God may not communicate directly what He desires for me to do. Indeed, God made it clear existentially that He intended for me to return to school and pursue a Ph.D.; however, He did not speak directly (normatively, situationally, or existentially) telling me that I was to come to Southern Seminary in Louisville. Rather, we applied prudential wisdom in considering the options. Yes, we asked God to tells us what He wanted us to do, we asked Him to show me where to study; but clear direction did not come. Instead, as we proceeded to investigate academic options, it gradually became clear that it ‘made sense’ to come to Southern – it was cheaper (as a Canadian Southern Baptist) to come here than to study at most other seminaries; I was able to pursue my primary academic interests (major in Apologetics, minor in World Religions [and Philosophy]); the size and atmosphere of Louisville is more similar to Edmonton than other potential cities (Fort Worth, Wake Forest) I could have studied in; the institutional Calvinism would be challenging and sharpening for an avowed non-Calvinist. One could argue that God was speaking situationally, through circumstances that He brought our way, in directing us to the appropriate school; but it certainly did not feel that way. We experienced the decision making process much more as an exercise of wisdom in accordance with what God had previously revealed to us. And we expect that the next step in our life journey may well be the same – God may not reveal clearly and absolutely what He intends for us to do after graduation, but rather will ask us to exercise wisdom in ascertaining the right road to go down.

Friesen and Smith also criticize the Blackaby approach for its tendency to induce passive Christian decision-making. Erwin McManus (pastor at Mosaic, in California), shares a story of a friend who graduated from seminary, but after two or three years had not yet accepted a pastoral position, despite having been offered several. The friend insisted that he did not have absolute certainty that God wanted him to accept any of those positions, and that he did not want to take a job that was not God’s specific will for his life. McManus responded, in some frustration, that his friend simply needed to step out and “Do something; anything; something good, something in accordance with God’s revealed will in Scripture.” Sitting around waiting for God to reveal His precise intention can lead to paralysis and inactivity. I think this criticism has great merit, and reveals that the Blackaby’s perhaps overestimate the frequency with which God reveals a specific plan for a specific individual. I agree with Friesen that the vast majority of life is governed by ‘mundane wisdom.’ The Blackaby’s note the necessity of applying wisdom in many of life’s decisions (cereal for breakfast, choice of clothes, etc); but Friesen’s point is that it is mundanity that is paradigmatic, not God’s revelation of specific intentions. I suspect that Friesen is correct; although I also fear that Friesen overextends himself and denies the applicability of seeking God’s specific intentions altogether.

Nonetheless, Friesen’s ‘wise’ advice reminds me not to sit on my haunches after completing my Ph.D., waiting for God to reveal the next step in His grand plan for my life. Rather, I am to conduct myself with: (a) a radical openness to hearing God give me direct intentions for my future; but also (b) a willingness to weigh options, compare possibilities, and exercise Christian wisdom in ascertaining God’s intentions for my future.

IV. How Do We Know That We Know God’s Intentions?

In epistemology, the primary question is not, “What do we know?”, but rather, “How do we know that we know?” With regards to my future direction, the epistemological question is therefore not, “What are God’s intentions for me?”, but rather, “How will I know that this is God’s intention for me?”

A. Plantinga’s Warrant

Traditionally, knowledge has been considered to be ‘justified true belief.’ To truly know something, we need more than mere belief that something is so. That belief must also be true; that is, it must correspond to how things are in the real world. Furthermore, we must have justification for that belief – our true belief must be grounded in rational faculties or operations.
Alvin Plantinga supplements this traditional conception of justified true belief with his notion of ‘warrant’. Plantinga’s warrant implies that we have justified true belief when our cognitive faculties are working properly (as they are supposed to), within a macro- and micro-environment which is conducive to their proper operation.

From a Christian perspective, looking towards future ministry after completion of my Ph.D., Plantingian warrant has considerable appeal and application. Along with the Blackaby’s, I confess that God has specific intentions for our lives which He desires to communicate to us. Hence, I must be epistemologically open to receiving God’s direction and purpose. Furthermore, along with Friesen, I acknowledge that God does not always communicate directly or personally with us, but often gives us both the freedom and the wisdom to choose our path in accordance with His revealed moral will. Hence, I must be epistemologically aware of what God condones, commands, and condemns. Finally, along with Smith, I insist that our decisions are to be made from within the context of an intimate relationship with the Triune God. Hence, a conducive environment for my decision-making faculties to operate within requires spiritual discipline and development. Thus, whatever path I ultimately go down after Ph.D. studies, I will warrant for that decision if and only if: (a) I have been open to receiving God’s specific intentions (and if such intentions have been conveyed, I faithfully obey them); (b) in the event that God has not directly communicated His intentions, I have exercised prudence and wisdom in choosing the correct path; (c) within the context of a vibrant relationship with my Lord and Savior. All three aspects of my decision-making process are essential to obtaining warrant for my future decision.

B. Frame’s ‘Cognitive Rest’ (Blackabyan ‘Peace’)

Once that decision is made, however, how will I know that it was the right one? How will I have the knowledge that this is, indeed, God’s intention for my future? Plantinga’s notion of warrant, though extremely helpful, is incomplete, as it allows us to have warrant for a belief even when we do not realize that we have warrant for it. In this case, however, I want not merely to have ‘Warranted Christian Belief,’ I desire to know that I have warranted belief that this is God’s purpose for my life.
John Frame speaks, in his Doctrine of the Christian Life, but more fully in The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God, about the notion of ‘cognitive rest’. Old-school evidentialism, as epitomized by William Clifford’s evidentialist thesis (“It is wrong for everyone, anywhere, at any time, to believe anything on the basis of insufficient evidence.”) insists that we have to exhaust every possible objection, research every possible option to the utmost of our ability, before we can conclude anything confidently. [Of course, Clifford’s evidentialist maxim fails to live up to its own standards, as there is no sufficient evidence that we ought to embrace his maxim, so we could legitimately ignore it. Nonetheless …] Frame disagrees. He acknowledges that there are limits to what we can realistically investigate. We cannot have exhaustive knowledge of everything. We cannot satisfy every doubt or question that we will ever have, about anything! Indeed, when we prepared to come back to school and move to the States, there were unanswered questions: “What if I am rejected from the program? Will I be able to do it? How are our kids going to adjust? Are we going to go bankrupt?” We didn’t have answers to all of those questions. But we did have ‘cognitive rest’, which Frame defines as the place we come to when, having investigated things fairly thoroughly, we find ourselves no longer needing to look into it, but rather at ease with the conclusion we have reached. We were confident that we knew God intended for us to move to Louisville. The Blackaby’s, I believe, are speaking of the same thing when they talk about being “at peace” with a decision. Perhaps we do not know why God desires this of us at a particular point in time, but we have peace that this is indeed God’s intentions for us. The Blackaby’s share several stories of having such peace (or cognitive rest) in the midst of decisions that seemed questionable or unlikely at the time.

C. Wood’s ‘Virtuous Epistemology’ and Justification

Jay Wood, in Becoming Epistemologically Virtuous, has a lengthy discussion of justification in knowledge. He examines the traditional differentiation between internal and external justification, and concludes that both are essential, and can be incorporated within a virtuous epistemology.

Internal justification for knowledge understands epistemology primarily in terms of deontology, or duty / responsibility. Justification stems from having exercised our rational capacities in a responsible and truth-seeking manner. Internalists are generally either foundationalists or coherentists – the first arguing that justification stems from having our beliefs founded upon properly basic beliefs, the second arguing that justification stems from have our beliefs cohere with our overall noetic structure. Externalists, on the other hand, understand epistemological justification to stem from the results of the epistemological process. Our beliefs are justified insofar as they result in attainment of the truth. Externalists are generally reliabilists, and emphasize the general reliability of our epistemological faculties.

Wood argues that the internal/external debate regarding justification cannot be satisfactorily settled simply because both are essential to justified true belief. First, there is an unmistakeable need for internal justification. If we have not conducted ourselves with epistemological virtue, then our beliefs are not justified. There are rational duties and responsibilities that we have; for example, we have a prima facie duty to trust our sensory inputs, and a prima facie responsibility to accept the validity of human testimony (after all, we know next to nothing absent of the input of other rational human agents). Second, there is a need to external justification as well. Our beliefs can only be justified if they cohere with the way things are.

With regards to my post-Ph.D. future, both internal and external justification will be critical. International justification will be the result of Plantinga’s type of warrant (discussed above at the end of that section). I will justified in believing that this is God’s intention for my future based on my self-reflective confidence that I have conducted my epistemological inquiries faithfully and rationally. External justification, however, will only be available after the fact. External justification implies that I will be justified in believing that this is God’s intention if and only if, in fact, this is God’s intention. Thus, external justification will not be available immediately upon graduation, or even immediately upon accepting (or pursuing) a job offer. Rather, it will be the result of hindsight reflection.

This is not unusual, however; indeed, I would argue that external justification for our knowledge is typically only available after the fact (as hindsight or post-reflection). For example, when I graduated in 2000 and sought a pastoral position, there were many options that did not work out. Three churches interviewed and candidated me, and subsequently extended a call, inviting me to come as their pastor. We did not have ‘cognitive rest’ about any of those three churches, and regretfully declined. Three other churches interviewed and candidated me, and we were extremely excited about the prospect of serving in those churches. We have not just cognitive ‘rest’, we had cognitive enthusiasm! However, those churches had no such cognitive rest; they declined to offer a call. Eventually, I was interviewed at Edmonton Chinese Baptist Church; then I candidated at the church. We had cognitive rest; so did they. They called me as English Pastor, and I began ministry there in July 2001 – more than a full year after my graduation. During the year-long process of seeking a pastoral position, seeking God’s intention for our ministry, we did not have external justification for our actions or beliefs. We believed that God did not want us to accept a call to three specific churches; but we had little in the way of external justification for that belief. Afterward, however, the external justification was very apparent in a variety of ways. Each of our three children has had significant health issues requiring regular visits to specialists – much more accessible within the urban ministry context of ECBC than the isolated rural contexts I had received previous calls to (and where my heart desired to serve). Two of our children were emergency deliveries, and may not have made it in a rural context. Given our later calling back to school, and future academic ministry, the urban Edmonton context, and especially my involvement in campus ministry there, was a necessary part of the process. Throughout the past eight years, events and reflection has provided external justification for our original belief that God intended us to serve at ECBC. We already had internal justification – having been open to God’s calling, sought His will earnestly, and conducted ourselves with due diligence and responsibility. The external justification was only available later.

It will be the same when I complete Ph.D. studies. When we take the next step into whatever ministry God intends, we will initially have the internal justification of knowing that we exercise our epistemological virtue in making a decision in deference to God’s intentions. However, we will not have external justification until later, when we can see how God worked in and through the circumstances He brought us into. Again, I emphasize that I believe this is normative – we cannot have external justification without a degree of separation from the belief or action or decision in question.