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What is Mere Christianity? Part 5: John Mark N Reynolds Answers

Introduction

For the fifth installment of our survey on mere Christianity, we turn to the reflections of Dr. John Mark Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds is the President of The Saint Constantine School, a Senior Fellow of Humanities at The King’s College in New York City, and a Fellow at The Discovery Institute’s Center For Science and Culture. He is also the author or co-author of several books including When Athens Met Jerusalem: An Introduction to Classical and Christian Thought and The Great Books Reader, Excerpts and Essays on the Most Influential Books in Western Civilization.

John Mark N Reynolds on Mere Christianity

“Looking toward mere Christianity is an act of inclusion from a stable Church tradition. As a result, mere Christianity cannot be a starting point, but is what an Orthodox, Roman, or a member of a historic Protestant church might do to find common ground. The mere Christian begins as a clearly defined partisan of a particular deeply rooted, intellectually rich Christian tradition that then chooses to see where he can agree. Such a Christian looks for the common ideas and practices (orthodoxy and orthopraxis) of those who have chosen to root themselves in the long Christian tradition. As a result, there is no hope for anyone who denies the first few ecumenical councils and does not interact with those they reject to be mere Christian. There is no hope for those who develop peculiar institutions, such as race based slavery or same sex marriage, of being mere Christians.”

Reflections

One could summarize Reynolds’ rich statement as follows: There are no mere Christians. Rather, there are robust Christians who all share a “common ground” of belief and practice, and that common ground constitutes mere Christianity. Reynolds’ point is well taken: mere Christianity is an abstraction from a much wider and richer field of belief and practice. To ask what a mere Christian looks like is akin to asking what the average Canadian looks like. (And don’t forget that family of demographic abstraction which boasts 2 1/2 kids.)

Reynolds may be correct that mere Christianity only exists as an abstraction from robust Christianities. But is it the case that every “mere Christian begins as a clearly defined partisan of a particular deeply rooted, intellectually rich Christian tradition…”? For example, consider a person whose consideration of Christianity is beset with skepticism and doubt. And yet, they want to be a Christian, or at least to see whether they can overcome their doubts. They are like the man who, desiring to own a BMW on a very limited budget, asks “What’s the least expensive BMW model I can buy?” Similarly, this individual on a limited credulity budget asks, “What’s the least I must believe to be a Christian?”

The answer to that individual’s question may be an abstraction from robust Christianities. Nonetheless, isn’t it possible for him to become a mere Christian by accepting that common ground of belief and practice irrespective of whether he commits to an additional set of robust claims from which that core is abstracted?

There is much else in Reynolds’ description that is deserving of closer reflection. For example, I’d like to hear more about what it means to deny the first few ecumenical councils. And just which list of councils would be required? Is it the first four or the first seven? And why that list and not another?

Finally, I was intrigued by Reynolds’ final sentence: “There is no hope for those who develop peculiar institutions, such as race based slavery or same sex marriage, of being mere Christians.” First, I wonder, “no hope” in what sense? No hope of being a mere Christian? Or no hope of salvation? Or both/and?

Also, consider that many antebellum churches in America were reconciled to race-based slavery. We can all agree that this was a wicked reconciliation, but did it follow that these robust Christianities had thereby abdicated the mere Christian core? In short, was antebellum American Christianity characterized by mass apostasy?

And if so, what about the postbellum reconciliation of these same churches with the practice of lynching and Jim Crow laws, and later the opposition to the civil rights movement? What about churches today that are silent on the carnage wrought by elective abortion (a special concern of the right) and who chant “Build the wall!” to block “caravans” of desperate refugees (a special concern of the left)?

And what should we make of that specific reference to “same-sex marriage,” in particular? Is Reynolds referring only to churches that practice same-sex marriage? Or is he also identifying churches that simply recognize the state’s right to marry gay couples in a secular ceremony?

Lastly, what other institutions would be sufficiently “peculiar” to warrant exclusion from being merely Christian? And why that criterion and not another?

The post What is Mere Christianity? Part 5: John Mark N Reynolds Answers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

What is Mere Christianity? Part 4: Eric Reitan Answers

Introduction

Our next installment in my series on mere Christianity comes from Eric Reitan. Dr. Reitan is Professor of Philosophy at Oklahoma State University and author of The Triumph of Love: Same-Sex Marriage and the Christian Love Ethic and Is God A Delusion?: A Reply to Religion’s Cultured Despisers. He is also coauthor of God’s Final Victory: A Comparative Philosophical Case for Universalism. I interview Dr. Reitan on the topic of universalism here. You can visit Dr. Reitan online at his blog, “The Piety that Lies Between.”

Eric Reitan on Mere Christianity

“Luther said, ‘So when the devil throws your sins in your face and declares that you deserve death and hell, tell him this: “I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God, and where He is there I shall be also!”‘ The assurance of God’s grace, received in faith on account of Christ, is the heart of the Christian message. The rest–how does Christ’s work atone for sin? How many will, in the end, subjectively open themselves to this unconditional grace?–is theology, and important. But mere Christianity is the act of trusting in the grace of God extended through and displayed in Christ’s work.”

Reflections

This is an eloquent and admirably focused statement, one that expresses well a Lutheran emphasis on the sinner justified before God. Interestingly, Reitan says not simply that the heart of the Christian message is God’s grace in Christ for the wayward sinner. Rather, he says that the heart of the Christian message is the assurance of God’s grace in Christ for the wayward sinner. In other words, the heart of the Christian message encompasses not just God’s saving act in Christ but also faith in that act.

Reitan recognizes that there is much else that one might say encompassing such topics as the nature of the atonement and the ratio of saved-to-lost, but these are secondary matters which we can refer to as theology. Presumably, additional doctrines such as the triune interpretation of the divine are likewise viewed as second-tier doctrines beyond the core of mere Christianity. Reitan’s mere Christianity does refer both to God and Jesus Christ, but it does not specify the nature of the relationship between these two beings/persons. Thus, it would seem that the ontological relationship between the Father and Son (including, for example, the account given in orthodox trinitarian doctrine), is left to the theological sphere that goes beyond mere Christianity.

Reitan’s account raises an interesting question about the status of groups that (i) self-identify as Christian; and which (ii) retain an account of “God’s grace, received in faith on account of Christ”; but which (iii) have historically been rejected as unChristian by the wider Christian tradition. Consider, for example, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. On the one hand, the LDS appears to retain a minimal account of salvation by way of faith in Christ. At the same time, the LDS includes a litany of doctrines that are considered highly unorthodox relative to the wider Christian tradition (consider, for example, the claim that human beings can become gods in their own right).

So here’s the question: does Reitan’s definition of mere Christianity imply that groups such as the LDS church qualify as merely Christian? And if so, does that constitute an objection to the view?

The post What is Mere Christianity? Part 4: Eric Reitan Answers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

What is Mere Christianity? Part 3: Myron B. Penner Answers

Introduction

Welcome to the third installment of my series, “What is Christianity?” This time, we feature the thoughts of Canadian philosopher Myron B. Penner. Dr. Penner is an Anglican priest who ministers at Trinity International Church in Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia. Previously, he was a professor at Prairie College in Three Hills, Alberta. Dr. Penner is the author of The End of Apologetics: Christian Witness in a Postmodern Context and editor of Christianity and the Postmodern Turn: Six Views.

Blaise Pascal famously offered this apology to a friend for composing a lengthy missive: “If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.” Pascal’s message: it’s easy to be wordy, but concision takes time. While I suggested contributors state their view of mere Christianity in 5-6 sentences, Penner used but one. By the Pascalian metric, Penner invested a lot of time in this statement.

Myron Penner on Mere Christianity

“For me, mere Christianity is the confession (the act of confessing) of the lordship of Jesus in the terms of the Apostles’ Creed.”

Reflections

This past week, I recorded a 1.5 hour conversation on theodicy and the problem of animal pain with popular atheist YouTuber Phil Harper (aka Skydive Phil). (The video will be up on YouTube in a few weeks.) Phil raised the standard problem about animal suffering and theism. But he also wanted to talk about the treatment of animals in the Bible.

However, I told Phil that I would not be discussing animal suffering in the Bible because my self-imposed goal was to defend mere Christianity. And for the purposes of this discussion, I said, mere Christianity can be defined approximately in the terms of the Apostles’ Creed:

I believe in God, the Father almighty,

creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord,

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,

born of the Virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried;

he descended to the dead.

On the third day he rose again;

he ascended into heaven,

he is seated at the right hand of the Father,

and he will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy catholic Church,

the communion of saints,

the forgiveness of sins,

the resurrection of the body,

and the life everlasting. Amen.

That creedal statement doesn’t include specific claims about the treatment of animals as described in the Hebrew scriptures, and consequently, that topic was beyond the purview of my specific defense.

All this is to say that I have a good deal of sympathy with Penner’s succinct answer. There are several factors that make the Apostles’ Creed an appealing answer. The first two points apply to creeds in general and the final two are specific to the Apostles’ Creed:

First, creeds are meant to function as acts of corporate confession rather than individualized belief: this is always our belief rather than simply the belief of the individual.

Second, creeds are doxological in orientation: as part of a formal service, they seamlessly weave together belief and action by making corporate confession a performative act of worship.

Third, the Apostles’ Creed is ancient (dating in its earliest form to the Roman Creed of the mid-second century).

Fourth, the Apostles’ Creed is arguably the most universal and widely confessed of Christian creeds. (The only other contender is the Nicene Creed.)

However, pressing the Apostles’ Creed into service as the description of mere Christianity does raise some questions. These questions pertain both to the necessity and sufficiency of precisely this list of claims.

Necessity For the problem of necessity, we can consider the prominent inclusion of the virgin birth. (As we proceed, keep in mind that the doctrine of the virgin birth, in fact, refers to the supernatural conception of Jesus apart from a coital act. Technically, the doctrine of the virgin birth proper refers to the claim that the parturition of Jesus was itself, in some sense, a miraculous act. That doctrine is not our concern here.)

Wolfhart Pannenberg (1928-2014) is recognized as one of the leading Christian theologians of the late twentieth century. Yet, in his 1968 book Jesus: God and Man, he developed an extensive critique of the miraculous virgin birth, a doctrine which he believed was tied to Catholic Mariology. In short, Pannenberg would confess the Apostles’ Creed, but only with a significant qualification (or rejection) of one of its core affirmations: Jesus was not virginally conceived.

Nor is Pannenberg the only theologian to take this position. Another leading theologian of the twentieth century, Emil Brunner, also rejected the confession of the virgin birth, albeit for somewhat different reasons.

If we take the Apostles’ Creed to provide the essential description of mere Christianity, then it would seem that leading Christian theologians like Pannenberg and Brunner exclude themselves from mere Christianity in virtue of rejecting the virgin birth.

(Even more surprisingly, a person who accepted everything in the creed except the claim that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate specifically, would thereby exclude themselves from the confession of mere Christianity.)

One possible response is to abandon the strong assumption that the Apostles’ Creed provides the necessary set of claims for mere Christianity. Perhaps, instead, it simply provides an authoritative working template for the core confessions of mere Christianity. In short, we could think of the creed as a centering document rather than a boundary document.

At the same time, this revised interpretation raises some significant objections. There still must be at least some boundaries secured by this document. After all, the creed was confessed to distinguish Christians from other groups like Marcionists and Gnostics. Thus, the question returns: which confessions within the Apostles’ Creed are essential for securing the boundaries?

Sufficiency As for the topic of sufficiency, we need only point out that a person could confess the Apostles’ Creed in its entirety and believe something highly unorthodox such as that the Son was created by the conceiving act of the impersonal Holy Spirit which is simply emblematic of the power of the Father. And this interpretation would reject several doctrines widely considered essential for orthodoxy including the Trinity, the pre-existence of the Son, and the personhood of the Holy Spirit.

One might reply to this concern by saying that the interpretation of the Creed is fixed by the Christian communities that have confessed it. Consequently, it is not sufficient to confess the statements that compose the Creed. In that act of confession, one must affirm a particular interpretation of those statements, e.g. content that is consistent with Trinitarianism but not with Unitarianism or Arianism.

Okay, that’s possible, I suppose. But then what exactly is the legitimate range of interpretation for the Creed?

Ironically, we now find ourselves with the conclusion that an answer to the question “What is mere Christianity?” which seemed, at first blush, so very simple is in fact, very complicated.

The post What is Mere Christianity? Part 3: Myron B. Penner Answers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

What is Christianity? Part 3: Myron B. Penner Answers

Introduction

Welcome to the third installment of my series, “What is Christianity?” This time, we feature the thoughts of Canadian philosopher Myron B. Penner. Dr. Penner is an Anglican priest who ministers at Trinity International Church in Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia. Previously, he was a professor at Prairie College in Three Hills, Alberta. Dr. Penner is the author of The End of Apologetics: Christian Witness in a Postmodern Context and editor of Christianity and the Postmodern Turn: Six Views.

Blaise Pascal famously offered this apology to a friend for composing a lengthy missive: “If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.” Pascal’s message: it’s easy to be wordy, but concision takes time. While I suggested contributors state their view of mere Christianity in 5-6 sentences, Penner used but one. By the Pascalian metric, Penner invested a lot of time in this statement.

Myron Penner on Mere Christianity

“For me, mere Christianity is the confession (the act of confessing) of the lordship of Jesus in the terms of the Apostles’ Creed.”

Reflections

This past week, I recorded a 1.5 hour conversation on theodicy and the problem of animal pain with popular atheist YouTuber Phil Harper (aka Skydive Phil). (The video will be up on YouTube in a few weeks.) Phil raised the standard problem about animal suffering and theism. But he also wanted to talk about the treatment of animals in the Bible.

However, I told Phil that I would not be discussing animal suffering in the Bible because my self-imposed goal was to defend mere Christianity. And for the purposes of this discussion, I said, mere Christianity can be defined approximately in the terms of the Apostles’ Creed:

I believe in God, the Father almighty,

creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord,

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,

born of the Virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried;

he descended to the dead.

On the third day he rose again;

he ascended into heaven,

he is seated at the right hand of the Father,

and he will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy catholic Church,

the communion of saints,

the forgiveness of sins,

the resurrection of the body,

and the life everlasting. Amen.

That creedal statement doesn’t include specific claims about the treatment of animals as described in the Hebrew scriptures, and consequently, that topic was beyond the purview of my specific defense.

All this is to say that I have a good deal of sympathy with Penner’s succinct answer. There are several factors that make the Apostles’ Creed an appealing answer. The first two points apply to creeds in general and the final two are specific to the Apostles’ Creed:

First, creeds are meant to function as acts of corporate confession rather than individualized belief: this is always our belief rather than simply the belief of the individual.

Second, creeds are doxological in orientation: as part of a formal service, they seamlessly weave together belief and action by making corporate confession a performative act of worship.

Third, the Apostles’ Creed is ancient (dating in its earliest form to the Roman Creed of the mid-second century).

Fourth, the Apostles’ Creed is arguably the most universal and widely confessed of Christian creeds. (The only other contender is the Nicene Creed.)

However, pressing the Apostles’ Creed into service as the description of mere Christianity does raise some questions. These questions pertain both to the necessity and sufficiency of precisely this list of claims.

Necessity For the problem of necessity, we can consider the prominent inclusion of the virgin birth. (As we proceed, keep in mind that the doctrine of the virgin birth, in fact, refers to the supernatural conception of Jesus apart from a coital act. Technically, the doctrine of the virgin birth proper refers to the claim that the parturition of Jesus was itself, in some sense, a miraculous act. That doctrine is not our concern here.)

Wolfhart Pannenberg (1928-2014) is recognized as one of the leading Christian theologians of the late twentieth century. Yet, in his 1968 book Jesus: God and Man, he developed an extensive critique of the miraculous virgin birth, a doctrine which he believed was tied to Catholic Mariology. In short, Pannenberg would confess the Apostles’ Creed, but only with a significant qualification (or rejection) of one of its core affirmations: Jesus was not virginally conceived.

Nor is Pannenberg the only theologian to take this position. Another leading theologian of the twentieth century, Emil Brunner, also rejected the confession of the virgin birth, albeit for somewhat different reasons.

If we take the Apostles’ Creed to provide the essential description of mere Christianity, then it would seem that leading Christian theologians like Pannenberg and Brunner exclude themselves from mere Christianity in virtue of rejecting the virgin birth.

(Even more surprisingly, a person who accepted everything in the creed except the claim that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate specifically, would thereby exclude themselves from the confession of mere Christianity.)

One possible response is to abandon the strong assumption that the Apostles’ Creed provides the necessary set of claims for mere Christianity. Perhaps, instead, it simply provides an authoritative working template for the core confessions of mere Christianity. In short, we could think of the creed as a centering document rather than a boundary document.

At the same time, this revised interpretation raises some significant objections. There still must be at least some boundaries secured by this document. After all, the creed was confessed to distinguish Christians from other groups like Marcionists and Gnostics. Thus, the question returns: which confessions within the Apostles’ Creed are essential for securing the boundaries?

Sufficiency As for the topic of sufficiency, we need only point out that a person could confess the Apostles’ Creed in its entirety and believe something highly unorthodox such as that the Son was created by the conceiving act of the impersonal Holy Spirit which is simply emblematic of the power of the Father. And this interpretation would reject several doctrines widely considered essential for orthodoxy including the Trinity, the pre-existence of the Son, and the personhood of the Holy Spirit.

One might reply to this concern by saying that the interpretation of the Creed is fixed by the Christian communities that have confessed it. Consequently, it is not sufficient to confess the statements that compose the Creed. In that act of confession, one must affirm a particular interpretation of those statements, e.g. content that is consistent with Trinitarianism but not with Unitarianism or Arianism.

Okay, that’s possible, I suppose. But then what exactly is the legitimate range of interpretation for the Creed?

Ironically, we now find ourselves with the conclusion that an answer to the question “What is mere Christianity?” which seemed, at first blush, so very simple is in fact, very complicated.

The post What is Christianity? Part 3: Myron B. Penner Answers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Which sins are the most serious? And why?

Which of the following dark revelations would most undermine your trust in a respected religious leader?

1. He had an affair.
2. While a patron at a restaurant, he used a racial slur after becoming angry at the waiter.
3. He is charged with tax evasion.
4. All are equally bad.

— Tentative Apologist (@RandalRauser) October 12, 2018

I posted this survey on Twitter one hour ago. In that first hour, I’ve received twenty responses that span all four options.

So which action do you think is most unsettling, most critically undermining for the moral authority of a spiritual leader? Is it the sin of lust and betrayal that comes with infidelity? The sin of latent racist attitudes that boil to the surface in a moment of anger? The sin of a calculated attempt to subvert tax laws and the society they are intended to serve?

Or is it simply mistaken to identify one of these as the most unsettling revelation? Are all equally corrosive of spiritual leadership and character?

The post Which sins are the most serious? And why? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

What is Mere Christianity? Part 2: John Stackhouse answers

Introduction

Welcome to Part 2 on my “What is Mere Christianity?” series. This entry comes courtesy of leading Canadian theologian and public intellectual, John Stackhouse. Dr. Stackhouse is the Samuel J. Mikolaski Professor of Religious Studies and Dean of Faculty Development at Crandall University in Moncton, New Brunswick. Previously, he was the Sangwoo Youtong Chee Professor of Theology and Culture at Regent College. Stackhouse is a prolific writer: he’s the author of ten books including Why You’re Here: Ethics for the Real World (Oxford University Press, 2017), editor of several more, and author of several hundred articles, book chapters, and reviews. Whew!

Stackhouse also rides a Kawasaki Vulcan (but we Honda-guys won’t hold that against him). And he drives a Volkswagen Golf R (in short, the perfect blend of practicality with Nürburgring-shredding performance).

And now, without further ado …

John Stackhouse on Mere Christianity

“Mere Christianity would be, of course, the doctrinal core of the gospel, but also piety and practices that are mutually implicated along with that theology. Christianity, of course, is centrally about relating properly to God through Jesus Christ in the Spirit, so ‘mere Christianity’ is the life of worship, church membership (in Paul’s strong sense of ‘member’), and mission. Specifying what belongs under those heads, and how they relate organically to each other, is what specifying ‘mere Christianity’ would be. But I’ve written too much already…!”

Reflections

Perhaps the most notable aspect of Stackhouse’s description is the combination of doctrinal claims with “piety and practices”. In short, mere Christianity is not simply a minimal set of essential beliefs. It is, rather, a minimal set of identifying characteristics and those characteristics include both a “doctrinal core” and actions that accompany that core. Stackhouse has made a very important point for it would surely be grossly reductionist to think that the core essence of the Christian faith can be reduced simply to a set of propositional affirmations.

So which specific doctrines and practices does Stackhouse identify with mere Christianity? Doctrinally, he refers to the fact that relationship with God is mediated through Son and Spirit in the life of the church and her mission. But he does not provide a more precise description of what one must believe about God or the means by which we relate to God, though as his statement suggests, that further clarification would come with a longer description. Nonetheless, it is notable that this precision does not make it into the most basic tier.

The question of practice and worship calls to mind the role of sacraments. While most Christians practice at least two sacraments — the rite of initiation (baptism) and the rite of participation (communion) — a handful of ecclesial communions (e.g. Salvation Army; Quakers) eschew the formal sacraments. So should we say that these are not true Christian communions? That doesn’t seem right.

In closing, I’ll offer my own suggestion for the essential practices that accompany the core confessions of mere Christainity. Perhaps we might locate the basic and universal practices of the church vis-a-vis worship and mission simply as loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength and loving one’s neighbor as oneself. And also making disciples who do the same.

The post What is Mere Christianity? Part 2: John Stackhouse answers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

What is Mere Christianity? Part 1: Dale Tuggy

Get ten Christians in a room and ask them what book (other than the Bible) was most impactful for their Christian formation. I guarantee that at least one person (and probably more than one) will mention C.S. Lewis’ classic Mere Christianity. (Case in point: when I asked “What’s the most formative book you ever read?” on Twitter (and later on my blog) two respondents mentioned Mere Christianity.)

We all know the book Mere Christianity. Alas, the core concept that forms the book’s title is, for many, a bit harder to pin down. Just what is “mere Christianity,” anyway?

Last week, I posed that question to several friends and acquaintances, asking them to send me their own definition in approximately 5 to 6 sentences. As of yesterday, a total of seven responses had come in, all of them intriguing and thought-provoking in their own right. And that created a problem. You see, while my initial intent was to post all of these statements together in one article, it became apparent to me that each was deserving of fuller reflection. And so I have decided instead to post these several definitions of mere Christianity as part of a series. I’ll be posting them all in the order that I received them, each with an introduction and some brief commentary to follow.

Introduction

The first entry in the series comes from Dale Tuggy. Dr. Tuggy is a professor of philosophy at SUNY (State University of New York) Fredonia and a prolific blogger and podcaster at his website Trinities. He is the author of the excellent book What is the Trinity? (which I review here) and of many journal articles and book reviews (many of which you can read here).

Dale Tuggy on Mere Christianity

“Only the one Jesus calls ‘Father’ is the one true God; the unique man Jesus is his Messiah. God the Father sent Jesus, gave him his message, empowered him, and endorsed him with deeds of power, wonders, and signs that God did through him. Jesus obeyed God’s call even to give up his life, but God raised Jesus from the dead, proving that Jesus was indeed God’s Messiah. God exalted Jesus to his right hand, making Jesus the one Lord under the one God. Jesus will return to fully establish God’s Kingdom on earth. All people should worship the one God and honor and follow his Messiah. Through Jesus we have the hope of resurrection to eternal life.”

Reflections

God the Father and his Son Jesus are clearly central in Tuggy’s view, as one would expect with any description of mere Christianity. What is equally clear is that Tuggy’s view, while adhering closely to New Testament language, does not embrace the church’s later doctrines of Trinity and incarnation. Indeed, Tuggy rejects the doctrine of the Trinity as an errant post-biblical doctrine which is inconsistent with the God revealed in the New Testament.

Tuggy is happy to quote Acts 2:36: “Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.” He agrees heartily with Paul’s declaration in Romans 10:9 that those who declare with their mouth “Jesus is Lord” and believe that God raised him from the dead will be saved. But he rejects Nicaea and Chalcedon as errant interpretations of biblical teaching. Indeed, Tuggy could very well borrow the words of Luther for his own context:

“Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God.”

In case you’re wondering: no, now is not the time to mount a pro-Nicene reading of the New Testament. The ensuing disputation would take us far beyond the confines of this short article.

Instead, we can simply note that given the centrality of the Trinity and incarnation in historic orthodoxy, many Christians will repudiate Tuggy’s summary of mere Christianity as not simply inadequate but fundamentally flawed, even heretical. However, whatever you think of the adequacy of his response, he forces us to grapple with the biblical text and to consider again our ecclesial reading traditions. What role, if any, do church and creed have in defining or delimiting the boundaries of acceptable readings of Scripture? And can one person’s careful and conscientious reading of the scriptures, buoyed by reason and conscience, eclipse those traditions?

The post What is Mere Christianity? Part 1: Dale Tuggy appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Does the success of Christianity provide a prima facie reason to believe it is true?

Christianity is the largest religion on earth with approximately 2.2 billion adherents. Do you think the undeniable success of Christianity provides a prima facie reason to believe it is true?

— Tentative Apologist (@RandalRauser) October 4, 2018

In this article, I’d like to offer a response to the 40 percent of respondents to my survey who believe the extraordinary success of a worldview like Christianity provides no prima facie reason to believe it is true.

To begin with, “prima facie” refers to a preliminary impression. In other words, the claim is that when assaying which worldview to consider as most likely to be true, one ought to begin with the majority position. And if there is no majority position, then one ought to begin with the plurality position. The idea is not that the majority is always correct, for that would be to commit the error known as the ad populum fallacy. Rather, the idea is simply that, all other things being equal, this is the most reasonable place to begin.

In other words, all other things being equal, a worldview that claims 2.2 billion adherents has a prima facie rational advantage over a worldview that has two million or two thousand adherents. Of course, one may conclude after an investigation of the evidence that the majority is wrong. That is perfectly consistent with taking the position that the most widely held position nonetheless has a prima facie privileged position.

To sum up, while not guaranteeing the end point, this modest consideration does offer a reasonable starting point. And it suggests that those surveying worldviews for serious intellectual consideration ought to begin with Christianity.

EDIT: A Footnote

Here’s a simple illustration of my point. I don’t have cable, but I regularly watch live streams of news channels on YouTube. Unfortunately, finding a good live stream is a bit of an art because they are always coming and going and many purported live streams are, in fact, bogus.

One of the surest guides to finding a good live stream is simple: look for the highest numbers of current viewers. Consider, for example, this screenshot of three live streams: one has 598 viewers while the other two have 14 and 2 viewers. All other things being equal, you ought to start with the stream with the highest number of current viewers. My simple point is that the same basic reasoning applies to worldviews, including Christianity.

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We like protesters, but only if they agree with us

Candace Owens is a young black woman who has gained a following as a vocal Trump supporter and critic of BLM. In this tweet, she critiques Amy Schumer for protesting Judge Kavanaugh yesterday:

Why are wealthy liberal white girls holding the ‘black power’ symbol while begging to be arrested for their temper tantrums?

In what over-privileged, bratty alternate universe do these Hollywood elitists think they live in? @amyschumer, sit down, clown. pic.twitter.com/XOiTf3zoPu

— Candace Owens (@RealCandaceO) October 5, 2018

If conservative advocates were protesting on behalf of Kavanaugh, I am quite sure that Owens would not denounce their protest as a “temper tantrum.” If James Woods were protesting, I’m sure she wouldn’t denounce him as a wealthy conservative, over-privileged Hollywood elitist. If it were Clint Eastwood, I’m sure she wouldn’t complain about “white old men” and tell him to “sit down, clown.”

It isn’t simply about Candace Owens. One finds this same attitude of disparagement on all sides. It seems like most people only appreciate politically engaged protest when it matches up to their agenda. That’s deeply unfortunate because a healthy democracy requires an active, politically engaged electorate across the political spectrum, not just on the issues that we happen to agree with.

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The Kavanaugh Effect, or Coming to Terms with Rape Culture

Yesterday, USA Today columnist Kirsten Powers published a powerful article titled “I was sexually assaulted and thought it was my fault. It’s past time for a 1980s reckoning.” The article begins as follows:

“When I was 15 years old, I passed out at a party after being fed all sorts of alcoholic concoctions by older boys I knew and idolized, but who in hindsight were eager to get me drunk.

“I awoke with a popular senior basketball player on top of me, and my shirt off. Dizzy and confused, I could barely remember anything about the night before. I asked what had happened and the boy told me we had just snuggled, but he couldn’t explain why my shirt was off.”

Powers then recounts the horror of learning a few days later that this same basketball player was boasting of having sexually assaulted her while she was passed out. She never told anyone, worried of angering and disappointing her parents, terrified that she would gain the reputation at her Catholic high school of being a slut.

I saw Powers on CNN (where she is a regular contributor) and she discussed the backdrop that prompted her to write the article. Last week, she was discussing Ford’s allegations with her fiancee and she made a somewhat dismissive comment about Ford’s description of the event as sexual assault. After all, she observed, this had happened to her: she then went on to describe this event to her fiancee. It was the first time she’s shared the event with anyone since high school. As she told her fiancee about her own experience, the look of horror that crossed his face made her realize the reality of the sexual assault she had suffered:

“While I knew something terrible had happened, I didn’t think I had been sexually assaulted. In the early 1980s, we didn’t possess the vocabulary to make such declarations. I thought I had done something stupid and paid a price for it.

“I thought it was my fault.”

The fact is that sexual assault and date rape were punchlines in the 1980s. Consider the storyline in the 1984 teen film Sixteen Candles in which the hunky hero Jake decides to get rid of his inebriated girlfriend Caroline by setting her up with the Geek. Note how Jake encourages the impending (and mercifully off-screen) sexual assault:

It’s important to keep in mind that Jake is not a villain in the movie. The film ends with Jake and our heroine Sam (Molly Ringwald) sharing a kiss on her sixteenth birthday. Consequently, we are encouraged to view his previous girlfriend, Caroline, as nothing more than a drunken ragdoll that the Geek can grope with impunity as a punchline.

I remember seeing Sixteen Candles back in the 1980s in mixed company. None of us (boys and girls) thought there was anything scandalous or shocking about the film’s nonchalant attitude toward sexual assault. (Nor, for that matter, were we offended by the film’s sickening racism on display in the character of an Asian exchange student named “Long Duk Dong.”) As Powers observes, “In the early 1980s, we didn’t possess the vocabulary to make such declarations.”

Powers is correct. In the 1980s we lacked the vocabulary to make such declarations. But the sobering fact is that we’re only now beginning to acquire it. Kirsten Powers is a very intelligent, savvy, and self-possessed commentator. If she only came to label properly her own thirty-five-year-old sexual assault within the last week, I suspect many of us have a ways to go in identifying and calling out rape culture.

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