Search Results for: Paul Copan

The Making of An Atheist: Interview with Jim Spiegel

Taylor University Philosopher, Jim Spiegel, just released his book, The Making of An Atheist: How Immorality Leads to Unbelief (Moody Publishers, 2010). Below is our interview with Spiegel about his book and the implications of his thesis for the debate between atheism and theism.

How did this book come about for you?

Like any philosopher of religion, I’ve followed the new atheist movement with interest.  But after reading numerous responses from Christian apologists, I noticed a conspicuous lack of attention to the moral-psychological roots of atheism.  Given that the biblical writers emphasize this dimension of unbelief, I thought someone needed to address it.

How does this book uniquely contribute to critiques of atheism and the “new atheism”?

Most Christian apologists’ responses to the new atheists challenge their arguments and reveal the many fallacies in their objections to religious faith.  This is helpful, of course, and I applaud the work of Ravi Zacharias, Alister McGrath, Dinesh D’Souza, Paul Copan, William Lane Craig, Tim Keller, and others for their superb contributions to the debate.  What they so well demonstrate is that atheism is not the consequence of any lack of evidence for God.  So the question naturally arises, What is the cause of atheism?  That is the question I address in my book.

The “noetic effects of sin” (as it’s sometimes called) plays an important conceptual and explanatory role in your book. In general, can you briefly explain your view on this matter?

I take my cue from Scripture, specifically such passages as Romans 1:18-32, where the Apostle Paul asserts that no one has any excuse not to believe in God. Rather, he says, some “suppress the truth by their wickedness” (Rom. 1:18).  In my book I develop a model for how this happens, tracing the suppression of truth to a willful rejection of God, prompted by immorality and self-deception.  Thus, I argue, sinful behaviors cloud and distort cognition.  The notion that volitional factors impact belief-formation has been forcefully argued by thinkers as various as John Calvin, Soren Kierkegaard, William James, Michael Polanyi, Thomas Kuhn, and Alvin Plantinga.  In terms of a specifically Christian application of this dynamic, I’ve been especially inspired by Plantinga’s Warranted Christian Belief.

Given the realism of human finitude and fallenness, how should we view the effectuality, if not fruitfulness, of the role that arguments can have for God’s existence or of the role for arguments against objections to God’s existence?

I believe in the usefulness of apologetics to encourage those who struggle with doubts and to persuade those who have sincere objections to aspects of the faith.  Even in the case of some former atheists, such as Antony Flew, the role of evidence seems to have been critical in his change of perspective.  But I don’t think such persuasion happens in a moral-spiritual vacuum.  The Spirit is always at work on people’s hearts, and in many instances He uses arguments and evidences as He prompts belief and acceptance of spiritual truth.

Why might there be a tendency among some Christian philosophical critiques of atheism (or any other worldview for that matter) to under-represent or downright avoid how the sinful tendencies of the human heart figure into the formation of a worldview?

One reason for avoidance of this issue might be a concern for decorum.  I suppose it could appear unseemly or offensive even to suggest, much less to present as a thesis of a book, that a person’s lack of belief in God is, at bottom, a form of rebellion.  And I must admit that at times I felt uncomfortable writing the book for this reason.  However, the fact that it is a clear biblical truth compelled me to write it anyway.  But I was careful to be as generous and winsome as I could manage, given the subject matter.

Given your view of how atheists are formed with regard to their worldview, how does the “problem of evil” figure into an atheist’s desires and motivations to know what is true?

In the book I discuss the principal objections of the new atheists, and the problem of evil is perhaps the most significant of these.  But, as some philosophers have rightly argued, the very notion of “evil” presupposes a standard for goodness which atheism cannot provide.  Any notion of evil or, for that matter, how things ought to be, whether morally or in terms of natural events, must rely on some standard or ideal that transcends the physical world.  Only some form of supernaturalism, such as theism, can supply this.  So to the extent that atheists acknowledge the reality of evil, they depart from their own commitment to naturalism.

Besides a theology of the heart and its sinful tendencies, another non-philosophical source of your critique of atheism is drawn from an examination of the psychology of atheism. How does the evidence for the “faith of the fatherless” figure into a theology of the heart and reasons that might be offered for atheism?

In his provocative little book, The Faith of the Fatherless, psychologist Paul Vitz surveys the major, and many of the minor, atheist scholars of the modern period.  He finds that the one thing these thinkers—e.g., Hobbes, Voltaire, Hume, Nietzsche, Russell, Freud, Sartre, etc.—have in common is a severely broken relationship with their father.  In accounting for atheism, Vitz turns the tables on Freudians who aim to explain away theistic belief as a cosmic projection of one’s father image.  In fact, the opposite seems to be the case:  atheists’ broken father relationships prompt their refusal to recognize the reality of God.

How does one become “entrenched” in an atheist’s mindset?

In my book I expound on two aspects of this process, which explains something of the obstinacy of atheists.  There is a phenomenon that I call “paradigm-induced blindness,” where a person’s false worldview prevents them from seeing truths which would otherwise be obvious.  Additionally, a person’s sinful indulgences have a way of deadening their natural awareness of God or, as John Calvin calls it, the sensus divinitatis.  And the more this innate sense of the divine is squelched, the more resistant a person will be to evidence for God.

You say that right living contributes to the perseverance of faith. How is that perseverance related to Christian virtue and the “cognitive health” that it brings?

Just as sinful thoughts and behavior corrupt us cognitively and warp our perspective on the world, obedience and virtue benefit us cognitively in a number of ways.  Not only do we avoid the intellectual warping and deadening of the sensus divinitatis that sin causes, but Scripture also makes clear that God grants special insight and wisdom to those who obey him (cf. Ps. 19:7, Ps. 25:9; Pr. 1:4, Pr. 11:2).  So you might say that the life of Christian virtue enhances our ability to think and reason, especially about moral and spiritual matters.

Given your approach to atheism in this book, how would you like to see this area further explored and developed by Christian philosophers?

I would like to see Christian philosophers do more to explore the relationship between personal ethics and the psychology of belief-formation. And, generally, I’d like to see more work done on various aspects of the negative side of the moral life—the phenomena of sin and vice. This have been underexplored by Christian philosophers.

More about Jim Spiegel can be learned at www.jimspiegel.com. The website for The Making of an Atheist, also has discussion questions and other important info.

Aseity, Fictionalism and Moral Values

At ReasonableFaith.org, I recently received a questions about the topic of divine aseity in light of my understanding of fictionalism and abstract objects:
  1. What are morals according to the fictionalist? Can the fictionalist hold to objective morality without having to be a command theorist? If not, then how can the fictionalist account for arbitrary commands from God (e.g., torturing little children is okay if God commands it to be so)?
  2. My second question is: can we interpret John 1:3 with a quantifying restriction. That is, can we interpret John saying something like the following: “Through him all things were made [except for abstract objects]; without him nothing was made that has been made.” Why or why not?
These are excellent questions, which have confronted me in the course of my study of divine aseity (self-existence). For readers who might lack the background of these questions, let me first say that the problem here is what many philosophers, usually called Platonists, think that in addition to concrete objects like tables and people and stars, there exist abstract objects like numbers, properties, and propositions. The problem is that many (though, interestingly, not all) abstract objects exist necessarily and so were never created by God, and many are what we might call “uncreatables,” that is to say, they cannot be created, since in order to be created, they would have to exist already, so that one winds up with a vicious circularity (see my and Paul Copan’s Creation out of Nothing, chap. 5). The Fictionalist solves the problem by denying that abstract objects really exist—they’re just useful fictions (like the average American family with 2.5 children).
With that bit of background, let’s take question (2) first. The motivation behind this question is, I think, to ask whether biblically there’s really anything problematic about holding that there are uncreated abstract objects, things other than God that also exist a se (through themselves alone). It seems to me that Platonism is so problematic theologically as to be deeply unchristian. It postulates an incomprehensible number of beings, real objects in the mind-independent world, which exist independently of God, so that God becomes just one being among many. It thus espouses a metaphysical pluralism which robs God of His ultimacy and primacy as Creator.
So even if John did not have abstract objects consciously in mind when he wrote that “all things came into being through him (i.e., the Word),” I am confident that if a Platonist were to sit down with John and explain to him just what numbers and sets and functions are on a Platonic ontology and explain to him the metaphysical status of propositions and properties according to Platonism, until John had a clear grasp of Platonist ontology, then John would have said, “If such things really do exist as robustly as concrete objects, then certainly they, too, were created by the Word!” It would have been pointless to affirm the Word’s creation of the infinitesimally tiny realm of concrete objects while allowing most of being to exist independently of God. What good does it do theologically to affirm the Word’s creation of all concrete objects when these are a mere triviality in comparison to the infinity of infinities of uncreated beings with which God finds Himself confronted? To allow such an ontology would be to rob John’s prologue of its theological force.
Moreover, —and this is really interesting!—it’s not implausible that John actually did have such abstract objects in mind when he wrote his prologue extolling Christ as the divine Logos (Word). For the Logos is not original with John. The figure of the creative Logos of God is also found in the writing of John’s contemporary, the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria (20 B.C. – A.D. 50). In his On the Creation of the Cosmos according to Moses, Philo explains that on the first day of creation God marked out, like an architect designing a city, an intelligible cosmos to use as an ideal model for the sensible cosmos (16). Philo admonishes that “To declare or suppose that the cosmos composed of the Ideas exists in some place is not permissible” (17). Therefore,

Just as the city that was marked out beforehand in the architect had no location outside but had been engraved in the soul of the craftsman, in the same way the cosmos composed of the Ideas would have no other place than the divine Logos who gives these (Ideas) their ordered disposition (20).

In short,

If you would wish to use a formulation that has been stripped down to the essentials, you might say that the intelligible cosmos is nothing else than the Logos of God as He is actually engaged in making the cosmos. For the intelligible city, too, is nothing else than the reasoning of the architect as he is actually engaged in planning the foundation of the city. This is the doctrine of Moses, not my own (24-25).

In Philo’s philosophy of religion we see the confluence of Judaism and Greek Platonic philosophy. Plato’s realm of Ideas, what we today would call abstract objects, is not a realm external to God but has been moved into the mind of God where it serves as the archetype of creation by the divine Logos.
John’s Prologue breathes this same atmosphere of Middle Platonism, as it is called, and it is not at all implausible to think that John imagines the realm of abstract objects to exist in the mind of the Logos. This is to espouse Conceptualism, not Platonism. On Conceptualism abstract objects exist as ideas in God’s mind, not as independently existing entities.
Now as to the first question above, there are Fictionalists who advocate an “error theory” of ethics: moral statements are all of them false but nonetheless useful and important for human relations. By contrast, the theist will affirm moral truths, but he will not adopt some sort of Platonism as the basis of their truth. For God Himself, who is a concrete object, is the paradigm of moral goodness, just as the meter bar in Paris once served as the paradigm of a meter, rather than some abstract mathematical object. The divine command theory of ethics which I have embraced thus fits perfectly with anti-Platonism. Indeed, it was crafted, in part, precisely to avoid the Platonistic horn of the Euthyphro dilemma of Plato (For more info, see here and here).
Can we hold to objective morality without being divine command theorists? Perhaps, if we can find some other way to ground moral values and duties in God, say, by imagining the natural moral law to exist in God’s mind. What we cannot do is adopt some Platonist account of moral values.
The last question of (1)—if objective morality necessitates divine command theory, then how can the Fictionalist account for arbitrary commands from God?—seems to be confused. Does it mean how can a Fictionalist avoid arbitrary commands from God? That just is the other horn of the Euthyphro dilemma answered in the above questions. God’s commands are reflections of His nature, so that God cannot issue commands arbitrarily. So the Good is not some abstract object existing apart from God; rather God Himself is the Good and the source of our moral duties via His commands to us.

William P. Alston, 1921-2009

The EPS honors the life and work of Christian philosopher Dr. William P. Alston, who died on September 13, 2009.

Below is an obituary received from Valerie Alston, Dr. Alston’s beloved wife. And a personal tribute from Paul Copan, President of the Evangelical Philosophical Society. We welcome further personal and professional appreciations about Dr. Alston’s life and work. Please submit your comments to this blog post (see below).

William Payne Alston

William Payne Alston, 87, died September 13, 2009, at the Nottingham Residential Health Care Facility in Jamesville, New York. He was born November 29, 1921 in Shreveport, Louisiana.

In 1942, Bill received a Bachelor of Music degree from Centenary College. During WWII, he served in an Army Band stationed in California. While in the service, he became interested in philosophy, and after his discharge from the Army, he entered the Graduate Program in Philosophy at the University of Chicago. His Ph.D. work led to a position at the University of Michigan, where he taught philosophy for twenty-two years and established himself as an important American philosopher. He then moved to Rutgers University and, later to the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. In 1980 he joined the faculty at Syracuse University where he completed his fifty-year career teaching and writing about philosophy. He was best known for his work in the philosophy of language, epistemology, and the philosophy of religion. He published several books and over 150 articles. His many Ph.D. students play a major role in philosophy today. He was founding editor of the journals Faith and Philosophy and Journal of Philosophical Research.

Bill received the highest honors of his profession. He has been President of the Central Division American Philosophical Association, the Society for Philosophy and Psychology, and the Society of Christian Philosophers. His international travel included trips to the Vatican as part of an eight-year project on “God’s Actions in the World in the Light of Modern Science,” sponsored by the Vatican Observatory. He was a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences, and he received Syracuse University’s Chancellor’s Award for Exceptional Academic Achievement.

He is survived by his wife of 46 years, Valerie Alston; a daughter, Ellen (John) Donnelly of Wayne, NJ and grandchildren, Patrick & Anna Donnelly; step-children, Marsha (Gary) Dysert of Charlotte, NC, James (Nancy) Barnes of Toledo, OH, Kathleen (Blair) Person of Troy, MI; four step-grandchildren and three great step-grandchildren.

A memorial service will be held at St. Paul’s Cathedral on November 2, 2009 at 11:00 a.m. Fairchild & Meech are in charge of arrangements.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, 310 Montgomery Street, Syracuse, N.Y. 13202.

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A personal tribute to William P. Alston, from Paul Copan, President of the Evangelical Philosophical Society

On September 13, 2009, Christian philosopher William P. Alston died at the age of 87. Alston wrote prolifically on a wide range of topics in the philosophy of religion—from the problem of evil to divine action to the Spirit’s indwelling to divine foreknowledge and human freedom. Alston’s groundbreaking work is particularly noteworthy in the areas of defending meaningful religious language and articulating an epistemology of religious experience. Other significant contributions include his rigorous defense of truth in realistic terms (“alethic realism”) and of metaphysical realism.

I first heard of Bill Alston when I was a philosophy student at Trinity Seminary in Deerfield, Illinois in the mid-1980s. (I was a student of Drs. Stuart Hackett and William Lane Craig back then.) During this time, I began subscribing to the Society of Christian Philosophers’ journal, Faith and Philosophy. I was aware that Alston and Al Plantinga had helped launch the SCP—a momentous achievement whose time had finally come and for which Christian philosophers everywhere will be ever grateful.

During my studies at Trinity, I had my first exposure to Alston’s writings. The very first Alston piece I read was his essay “Divine-Human Dialogue and the Nature of God” (Faith and Philosophy, January 1986). I not only appreciated the topic he tackled; I marveled that a sophisticated philosopher would give a questionnaire to adults at his church, asking them, “Do you ever feel that God speaks to you? (Not necessarily in audible words. The question could be phrased: do you ever feel that God is communicating a message to you?)” Alston tallied the results: Yes-17; No-2. Thus began my great appreciation and respect for Alston’s insight and exceptional scholarship as well as his personal devotion as a Christian.

After my studies at Trinity, I had the opportunity to meet Alston in 1988 at a Society of Christian Philosophers conference at Gordon College in Wenham, Massachusetts. He was one in an impressive line-up of presenters, which included Richard Swinburne, George Mavrodes, Stephen Evans, Nicholas Wolterstorff, Eleonore Stump, and Marilyn Adams along with biblical scholars Anthony Thiselton and the late James Barr. A few of these presented papers made their way into the Faith and Philosophy October 1989 issue.

Years later, I wrote a book review of Thomas Morris’s God and the Philosophers (Oxford University Press 1994) for The Review of Metaphysics (June 1997). Alston’s autobiographical chapter gave me further insight into his experience with God personally—even speaking in tongues—through the influence of charismatic Christians. Alston discussed his attraction to the Christian community through the love he had experienced within it: “my way back [to Christ] was not by abstract philosophical reasoning, but by experience—experience of the love of God and the presence of the Spirit, as found within the community of the faithful” (p. 28). Alston has served as a model of rigorous philosophical thought as well as a deep experience of God by His Spirit. His experience reminds us that the gospel is powerful in a holistic sense: it not only has explanatory philosophical power, but it has the power to transform lives and meet the deepest of human needs.

Back in 2002/2003, I had the privilege of working with Alston on a book project. With Paul Moser, I coedited The Rationality of Theism (Routledge), and Bill led off with the superb essay, “Religious Language and Verificationism.” He concluded his piece by calling the Verificationist Criterion to be “but a paper tiger, in philosophy of religion as elsewhere.” He added, “It poses no threat to the apparently obvious truth that talk of God contains many statements about God that have objective truth-values—whether we can determine what they are or not.”

I am honored to have learned from and worked with this notable philosopher and, even more significantly, a brother in Christ and a partner in the gospel.

Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.

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Other remembrances about Alston can be found here:

For further info, see Daniel Howard-Snyder’s helpful bibliography of Alston’s scholarly work (since 2006) and Daniel’s 2005 biographical entry in the Dictionary of Modern American Philosophers.

We welcome personal and professional appreciations in honor of Dr. William P. Alston. Please submit your comments to this post!

Interview with Chad Meister: Introducing Philosophy of Religion (part two)

We continue our interview with Chad Meister about his Introducing Philosophy of Religion. In this part, Chad shares with us about he teaches philosophy and how philosophy of religion has influenced other areas of philosophy.

What are some lessons that you’ve learned over the years about how to teach philosophy of religion?

My overall pedagogical methods in the classroom have changed significantly over the last ten years or so, and this is especially true in upper level undergraduate philosophy courses such as philosophy of religion. Here are what I consider to be some significant lessons for teaching philosophy of religion (or any undergraduate philosophy course). Some of these lessons I gleaned from pedagogy researcher Ken Bain:

  • Students are not typically familiar with many, if not most, of the central topics and ideas discussed in the field, nor are they familiar with how the topics are typically approached. So rather than focusing on one or two main issues, or reading one or two primary sources, I find it helpful to first introduce them to a number of relevant topics and then to hone in on several key ones. For their assigned papers, then, I give them the opportunity to choose one or two issues with which to spend a good deal of time over the course of the semester.
  • I usually begin class with an excellent question (a question that is meaningful to the student)—that is, with a BIG question. So I generally create at least one major question for each class period and write it on the board or in PowerPoint. For example, I might ask, “What is John Hick’s pluralistic hypothesis, and what are some reasons you have for agreeing or disagreeing with it?” The lecture/discussion will generally, then, focus on this question.
  • As Ken Bain notes, a recent Harvard study of the most successful students included two key elements in the classroom: tough classes and the opportunity to try, fail, get feedback, etc. separate from a grade. I believe creating assignments, such as short papers on a central theme, that allow students to work on a topic, turn in the assignment, receive comments, and re-work the assignment are effective means. These early papers receive no grade, but the final product (a longer paper including research and reflection from the earlier shorter ones) does.
  • Students need to have some control over their own education. For papers, I offer students multiple topics from which to choose, or I allow them to pick a subject related to their major or area of interest.
  • As many of the great ancient Greek philosophers understood, one of the most helpful ways of acquiring knowledge and being transformed by it is seeing it modeled by a respected mentor. So, for example, I invite students over to my home regularly to discuss issues in that environment and work to develop respect by the “younger” students for the more advanced ones. I even encourage their involvement in an official mentoring program at the college where students and faculty mentor others, and I mentor a number of the philosophy majors myself. There should be regular collaborative efforts between students, so I have them work together in small groups on projects both in and outside of class. When appropriate, I have the “advanced” students help/mentor the “newer” ones. Especially for the philosophy majors, I try to create an environment where we are growing together and encouraging one another as a community of learners.
  • Students must believe that their own work will really matter (though it may be quite basic at this stage), so I have individual meetings with them to discuss their paper topics. I encourage them to focus on a theme that is significant—both to them and to the field at large—and explain why what they are doing is philosophically significant. Furthermore, I offer them the opportunity as a class to craft a journal—one structured very much like a professional philosophy journal, but with other features that make it more fun and exciting for undergraduates (for example, including timelines, glossaries, even a comics section!). This has been a very productive, collaborative kind of project which, in one case, we published. I also encourage students to work toward writing publishable papers (and to try to publish them if they are of that quality) and to attend conferences where students and others are presenting papers. It is oftentimes in these kinds of contexts where the significance of their own work can be more fully appreciated.

How has philosophy of religion work influenced other fields in philosophy?

There is a long story to be told here, but I’ll try to keep this brief. There is a fascinating symbiotic relationship among those doing work in the various fields of philosophy you mention and work being done in philosophy of religion. Consider first a brief account (one probably quite familiar to many readers) of the resurgence of philosophy of religion over the past century with respect to work done in epistemology, metaphysics, and philosophy of language.

Philosophy, especially within the analytic tradition, emphasizes precision of terms and clarity of concepts. Religion, however, is often imprecise and veiled in mystery. This imprecision was challenged in the mid-twentieth century with the rise of logical positivism. Logical positivists used a principle of verifiability to reject as meaningless all non-empirical claims; only the tautologies of mathematics and logic, along with statements containing empirical observations or inferences, were considered meaningful. Many religious statements, however, such as claims about the transcendent, are neither tautological nor empirically verifiable. So certain fundamental religious claims and beliefs (such as “Yahweh is good” or “Atman is Brahman”) were taken by the positivists to be cognitively meaningless utterances. Positivism became a dominant philosophical approach and for a time, for this and related reasons, philosophy of religion as a discipline became suspect.

The philosophical tide began to turn, however, in the latter half of the twentieth century with respect to religious language. Many argued that the positivists’ empiricist criteria of meaning were unsatisfactory and problematic. Due to the philosophical insights on the nature and meaning of language provided by the later Ludwig Wittgenstein, the rise of a pragmatic version of naturalism offered by Willard Quine, and other factors, logical positivism quickly waned. For these reasons, along with the exemplary work of such analytic philosophers of religion as Alvin Plantinga, Richard Swinburne, John Hick, and others, by the 1970s discussions about religious (and metaphysical and ethical) concepts were revived and soon became accepted arenas of viable philosophical and religious discourse.

Since that time, philosophy of religion has become a burgeoning field. For example, two leading philosophy journals today—Philosophia Christi and Faith and Philosophy—are primarily focused on issues in philosophy of religion. In addition, two of the largest (if not the largest) subgroups within the American Philosophical Association are the Evangelical Philosophical Society and the Society of Christian Philosophers. Furthermore, one could cite countless examples of recent work that integrates other fields of philosophy with philosophy of religion, or philosophy of religion work which has influenced other fields. Consider just a few fine examples (with apologies for the many other fine examples which are not included):

The list goes on and on. Those doing work in philosophy of religion have indeed made great strides in influencing other fields in philosophy over the past fifty years, and there is no indication of its waning any time soon.

More about Chad Meister can be found at his website.

Interview with Chad Meister: Introducing Philosophy of Religion (part one)

We are pleased to interview Chad Meister about his recently released Introducing Philosophy of Religion (Routledge, 2009). Chad is the Director of the philosophy program at Bethel College (Indiana) where he has been teaching philosophy for the past decade. Among other hats that he wears, Chad is one of the book review editors for Philosophia Christi.

What is the overall aim of this textbook?

The aim of this textbook is to help students and others reflect philosophically on important religious ideas, including religious diversity, concepts of God/Ultimate Reality, arguments for and against the existence of God, problems of evil, science and faith, religious experience, the self, death and the afterlife.

What is unique about your content, approach, intent, and scope for this introduction to philosophy of religion?

This book covers a broad array of topics—some of which are not typically covered in philosophy of religion texts but are nonetheless important in contemporary discussions—including non-Western conceptions of Ultimate Reality and conceptions of the self, reincarnation, and karma. Unlike other works I’ve done, I am not arguing in this book for any particular positions which I may personally hold. I attempt to be as fair and impartial as possible, and to provide arguments and evidences for each position.

Here is a quick overview of the chapter titles and main objectives:

Chapter 1: Religion and the Philosophy of Religion

  • Describe what is generally meant by the terms philosophy, religion, and philosophy of religion
  • Access an extensive philosophy of religion timeline
  • Explain religious realism and non-realism and note prominent adherents of each

Chapter 2: Religious Diversity and Pluralism

  • Describe several central elements of five major world religions
  • Explain six different philosophical approaches to religious diversity
  • Clarify five fundamental criteria for evaluating religious systems
  • Expound on some important reasons for manifesting religious tolerance with respect to the various traditions

Chapter 3: Conceptions of Ultimate Reality

  • Elucidate some major differences between Eastern and Western views of Ultimate Reality
  • Provide a concise summary of Hindu Absolutism and Buddhist Metaphysics
  • Present five attributes of the traditional concept of the God of theism and some challenges to them

Chapter 4: Cosmological Arguments for God’s Existence

  • Explicate three cosmological arguments for God’s existence and describe support for and objections to each of them
  • State scientific evidences for and against the claim that the universe began to exist
  • Concisely explain the cosmological argument for atheism

Chapter 5: Teleological Arguments for God’s Existence

  • Explain three teleological arguments for God’s existence and describe support for and objections to each of them
  • Expound on scientific findings which relate to alleged fine-tuning of the universe
  • Describe the intelligent design movement and arguments for and against irreducible complexity

Chapter 6: Ontological Arguments for God’s Existence

  • Explain two ontological arguments for God’s existence: one classic and one contemporary
  • Summarize several main objections and replies to each of these two arguments

Chapter 7: Problems of Evil

  • Classify various kinds of evil
  • Explicate the logical, evidential, and existential problems of evil and responses to them
  • Describe three major theodicies and some central objections to them

Chapter 8: Science, Faith and Reason

  • Explain three primary relationships between religion and science
  • Differentiate between rational validation and non-evidential views of religious justification
  • Understand the meaning of classical foundationalism, a reason for rejecting it, and the role of properly basic beliefs in a more recent version of foundationalism found in Reformed epistemology

Chapter 9: Religious Experience

  • Delineate three general features common to religious experience
  • Distinguish three general categories of religious experience
  • Provide reasons for and against the use of religious experience as justification for religious beliefs
  • Describe two scientific explanations for religious experience

Chapter 10: The Self, Death and the Afterlife

  • Explain four major conceptions of the self from the East and the West as well as arguments for and against them
  • Describe the doctrines of reincarnation and karma and their significance to two Eastern religious traditions
  • Expound on four arguments in favor of immortality and three arguments against it

There are a number of pedagogical features in the book and on a Routledge website dedicated to the book, including charts, diagrams, chapter outlines, objectives, timeline, glossary, PowerPoint slides, and other resources.

My hope is that students and others working through this text (along with an anthology which is relatively global in scope, such as my corresponding Philosophy of Religion Reader) will gain a broad and fairly comprehensive understanding of the field of philosophy of religion as practiced today, and that they will be enticed to further research and study on these topics.

How has your extensive experience as a professor and work as an editor of several philosophy of religion books shaped what is unique to this textbook?

Teaching at both the graduate and undergraduate levels over the past ten years has undoubtedly provided a plethora of dialectical encounters with students which proved fruitful in crafting this textbook as a dialogical work. I have also gained significant insight through various editing projects over the last few years. For example, in The Routledge Companion to Philosophy of Religion (which I co-edited with Paul Copan), The Philosophy of Religion Reader (read the interview here), and The Oxford Handbook of Religious Diversity (which I am just now finishing), I have been engaged with the works of philosophers of religion from across religious and philosophical spectrums. It has been a most enlightening experience working with atheists, pluralists, feminists, Continental philosophers, and Hindu, Buddhist, and Islamic scholars. I have leaned much from them and am deeply indebted to them, and this dialogue has enriched my own thinking about a number of issues.

For more about Chad Meister, visit his website: http://www.chadmeister.com/

Yahweh Wars and the Canaanites

Paul Copan

Philosophy and Ethics
Palm Beach Atlantic University
Palm Beach, Florida


Of the various Old Testament (OT) ethical issues, Yahweh’s command that Israel kill the Canaanites strikes us as the weightiest. In this issue of Philosophia Christi, Wes Morriston and Randal Rauser highlight this theme in reply to my
earlier essay, “Is Yahweh a Moral Monster?”[1]
I am grateful for their comments and for the opportunity to respond to the key questions
they raise. Since their objections overlap somewhat, I shall simply list and respond
to the major concerns as I see them. In doing so, I shall touch on the contributions
made by comrades-in-arms, Clay Jones and Joseph Buijs, whose supportive essays also
appear in this issue.[2]


1. Incorrigibly Wicked?

Morriston challenges the claim that the Canaanites were really that
wicked or that they were incorrigibly so and thus deserving God’s judgment:
“the evidence of incorrigible wickedness is nonexistent.”[3]
However, Clay Jones’s essay documents and reinforces my point that this was indeed
a wicked people. God was willing to wait over 400 years because “the sin of the
Amorite was not yet filled up” (Gen. 15:16). In Abraham’s day, no reason yet existed
for dispossessing them. The land was not ready to “vomit them out” (Lev. 18:25).
Only after Israel’s lengthy enslavement in Egypt would the time finally be ripe
for the Israelites to enter Canaan�”because of the wickedness of these nations”
(Deut. 9:4�5).[4]
Meredith Kline reminds us that the judgment on the Canaanites is an “intrusive phenomenon”
of eschatological ethics into the period of common grace, anticipatory of a final
judgment when God finally establishes justice on a cosmic scale.[5]

Now, I am not arguing that the Canaanites were absolutely the worst
specimens of humanity that ever existed, nor am I arguing that the Canaanites were
the worst specimens of humanity in the ancient Near East (ANE). However, the evidence
adduced by Jones sufficiently reveals a profound moral corruption, and we are not
surprised to read that they are ripe for divine judgment in keeping with God’s
salvation-historical purposes. Nor are the Canaanites uniquely singled out for divine
judgment in the Scriptures; prophetic oracles abound concerning Yahweh’s threats
of judgment on nations that had also crossed the moral threshold. Furthermore, we
should not think that God no longer judges nations today�even if we may not be able
to determine this precisely.[6]
However, I shall say no more on this topic but shall let Morriston direct any remaining
objections to Jones!

2. Morally Culpable?

Morriston wonders if the Canaanites were really “morally culpable.”[7]
After all, they were just practicing their religion, which was passed on to them
from the previous generation. Surely the Canaanites “deserve . . . enlightenment
about the true nature of God and about His requirements for human beings.”[8]
However, history shows that nations and civilizations have been capable
of moral reforms and improvements. This suggests that humans are not necessarily
cut off from all moral ideals and insights through general revelation to help improve
upon what was handed down to them. Furthermore, a passage such as Amos 1�2 suggests
that moral “enlightenment,” though suppressed, was available to Gentile nations
surrounding Israel. There, God threatens judgment against the nations surrounding
Israel not because they were merely “practicing the religion of their parents,”
but because they stifled compassion, suppressed their conscience, and carried out
particularly heinous acts. They should have known better. The Canaanites were “disobedient”
(Heb. 11:31)�a term indicating a moral awareness of wrongdoing but a refusal to
turn from it.[9]
Paul affirms that those without special revelation still have the capacity (through
conscience) to distinguish right from wrong (Rom. 2:14�15). Paul’s point is nicely
illustrated in the appendix to C. S. Lewis’s Abolition of Man: moral codes
of many cultures across the ages are strikingly similar at key points�honoring parents,
being faithful in marriage, not stealing, not murdering, not bearing false witness,
and so on.[10]
Furthermore, despite their immersion in Canaanite ways, Rahab and her family (Josh.
2) are a clear sign that other Canaanites could have preserved their lives if
they had humbled themselves before Israel’s God, who had convincingly delivered
his people from Egypt with signs and wonders and demonstrated his reality and surpassing
greatness (Josh. 2:9�11).

Speaking of Rahab, we can reject Morriston’s claim about what the text “plainly”
says (that Rahab was being “prudent rather than pious”). Joshua’s literary strategy,
in fact, devotes much attention to Rahab’s responsiveness to Yahweh, including
her assisting the spies (chapter 2). In chapter 6, the number of words mentioning
her and her family’s being spared (86 words) are roughly the same as those devoted
to describing Jericho’s destruction (102 words)�an indication of Yahweh’s willingness
to receive any who turn to him.[11]
Contrary to Morriston’s charge that Rahab would “sell out her own city in order
to save her own skin,”[12]
she simply realized that God was with the Israelites, and she aligned herself with
reality. Rahab is no more “selling out” than those Germans disenchanted with Hitler
who joined the Allied cause.

Rahab’s embracing Yahweh and finding salvation illustrates the theme of Exodus
34:6: Yahweh’s gracious, compassionate character extends salvation to all and relents
from judging, whether Canaanite or�much to Jonah’s dismay�Ninevite (Jon. 4:2) or
those from any “nation” that “turns from its evil” (Jer. 18:7�8). Yahweh desires
that the wicked turn rather than die (Ezek. 18:31�32; 33:11). And when Israel and
Judah reached a point of no moral and spiritual return (“until there was no remedy”),
God judged them severely (2 Chron. 36:16; cp. 2 Kings 18:11�12; 1 Chron. 5:23).

Yahweh’s ban (herem), then, was not absolute. Carrying out herem
did not entail the refusal of mercy, as we see in Rahab’s case. The possibility
of salvation was not a violation of the ban.[13]

3. Standards for Irredeemability?

Rauser objects to the killing of the “wicked Canaanites” since “we have no guidelines
to determine when a culture is irredeemable.”[14]
Rauser’s point calls to mind Israeli psychologist Georges Tamarin’s 1966 study
involving 1,066 schoolchildren ages eight to fourteen. Presented with the story
of Jericho’s destruction, they were asked, “Do you think Joshua and the Israelites
acted rightly or not?” Two-thirds of the children approved. However, when Tamarin
substituted “General Lin” for Joshua and a “Chinese kingdom 3,000 years ago” for
Israel, only 7 percent approved while 75 percent disapproved.[15]
So, though we condemn the killing of an ethnic group when carried out by Nazis or
Hutus, Israel seems to get a pass when doing the “same thing” to the Canaanites.

Rauser suggests that we need something more than mere mortal assessments regarding
a culture’s ripeness for judgment. Such matters are too weighty a matter for humans
to judge. Indeed, these determinations ought to be left up to God�namely, special
revelation
. And this is precisely what we have! In John Goldingay’s words,
“It takes a prophet to know whether and how a particular war fits into Yhwh’s purpose.”[16]

4 Ethnic Cleansing and Genocide?

Both Rauser and Morriston utilize the term “genocide,” and Rauser mentions “ethnic
cleansing.” However, ethnic cleansing suggests a racial hatred, which just is
not behind the injunctions to kill Canaanites. Consider how Rahab and her
family were welcomed into the Israelite fold. Visions of ethnic and moral superiority
are not part of the picture.[17]
In the Mosaic Law, Yahweh repeatedly commands Israel to show concern for strangers
and aliens in their midst (for example, Lev. 19:34; Deut. 10:18�19), since the Israelites
had been strangers in Egypt. Moreover, prophets later view the nations once singled
out for judgment (for example, the Jebusites�a Canaanite people [Deut. 7:1]) as
the ultimate objects of Yahweh’s salvation. For example, in Zechariah 9:7, the
Philistines�on whom God pronounces judgment in 9:1�6�and the Jebusites (who came
to be absorbed within the fold of Judah) are both to become part of God’s redeemed
“remnant.” This theme is reinforced in Psalm 87, where the Philistines and other
enemies are incorporated into the people of God.[18]

Yahweh’s evident concern for the nations in the OT hardly supports a Gentile-hating,
arrogant ethnocentrism. Rauser notwithstanding, the Israelites did not determine
themselves to be the in-group, who in turn demonized the out-group and then destroyed
them. Yahweh pointedly reminds his people that their taking the land is not due
to their intrinsic superiority (“right�eousness,” “uprightness of heart”), but because
of the “wickedness” of the Canaanites. Indeed, the Israelites are “a stubborn people”
(Deut. 9:4�6).

5. Herem and Human Sacrifice?

Regarding the Hebrew term herem (“ban,” “dedication to destruction”),
Rauser correctly observes the religious dimension to Israel’s wars. Indeed,
this was true of ANE wars in general�sacred or holy endeavors.[19]
Israel’s defeating its enemies was an indication that Yahweh the “warrior” (Exod.
15:3) was ruler over all the nations and their gods. Is Rauser correct, though,
in claiming that the slaughter of all men, women, and children was a “religious
act of worship“?

Not quite. Susan Niditch’s study, War in the Hebrew Bible, affirms
that the “ban” in the early texts (for example, Deut. 20) refers to the total destruction
of warriors and the consecration to God of everything that was captured:

The dominant voice in the Hebrew Bible condemns child sacrifice
as the epitome of anti-Yahwist and anti-social behavior . . . . the dominant voice
in the Hebrew Bible treats the ban not as sacrifice in exchange for victory but
as just and deserved punishment for idolaters, sinners, and those who lead Israel
astray or commit direct injustice against Israel.[20]

Furthermore, Hess contends that human sacrifice to Yahweh was not behind
herem; no evidence in the early texts suggests this.[21]
Contra Morriston, there is a “subversive attitude to human sacrifice” in
the OT. According to Hess, there is “little suggestion that war is an act of human
sacrifice to a god who demands it.”[22]

Now, Morriston suggests that certain passages, if not implicitly endorsing the
acceptability of human sacrifice, seem to diminish divine displeasure towards it.

The first is 2 Kings 3:27, where Mesha, king of Moab, (apparently) sacrifices
his firstborn son on the wall of Kir Hareseth (in Moab), after which the Israelite
army withdrew. Morriston’s suggestion is mistaken here for several reasons. First,
it is at odds with what the author of Kings declares in subsequent passages (cp.
2 Kings 16:3; 17:7; 21:6). Second, the Mosaic Law clearly condemns child sacrifice
as morally abhorrent (Lev. 18:21; 20:2�5; Deut. 12:31; 18:10). Third, the word
fury (qetseph)is wrongly assumed to be divine wrath.[23]
Its cognate is used elsewhere in 2 Kings, clearly referring to human fury
(5:11; 13:19). Fourth, typically, commentators suggest several plausible interpretations�and
Morriston’s is not one of them! (i) Perhaps there was fury against Israel
among the Moabites because their king Mesha, forced by desperation, sacrificed his
son (in order to prompt Moab’s renewed determination to fight).[24]
(ii) Another possibility is that the Israelites were so horrified or filled with
superstitious dread�which came “upon Israel” (RSV)�at this human sacrifice that
they abandoned the entire venture.[25]
(iii) A final alternative is that because of Mesha’s failed attempt to break through
the siege (perhaps to head north for reinforcements), he was still able to capture
the king of Edom’s firstborn son, whom he sacrificed on the wall, which demoralized
Edom’s army. Their “wrath” ended the war because they withdrew from this military
coalition of Israel, Judah, and Edom.[26]

What of Jephthah’s rash vow and sacrifice (Judg. 11:30�40)? While some strongly
argue against the claim that Jephthah literally sacrificed his daughter,[27]
most OT scholars believe the text asserts this.[28]
Let us then assume the worst-case scenario. Morriston informs us that Jephthah the
“Judge of Israel . . . would surely have known” that child sacrifice was wrong and
that it was because of such acts that Yahweh judged the Canaanites. Why then this
human sacrifice?

Morriston too hastily concludes that Israel assumed human sacrifice as morally
acceptable before Yahweh. We can apply Morriston’s statement to Samson. As a “Judge
of Israel,” he “would surely have known” that touching unclean corpses and consorting
with prostitutes were forbidden by Yahweh. Precisely because we are talking about
the time of the Judges, Morriston should be all the more cautious in suggesting
what he does.

But didn’t “the Spirit of the Lord” come on Jephthah (Judg. 11:29)? Yes, but
we should not take this as a wholesale divine endorsement of all Jephthah did�no
more so than the Spirit’s coming on Gideon (6:34) was a seal of approval on his
dabbling with idolatry (8:24�7)�or Ehud (3:26), for that matter.[29]
Yes, these “Judges of Israel” would “surely have known” this was wrong. Indeed,
“the Spirit of the Lord” came upon Samson to help Israel keep the Philistines at
bay (14:6, 19; 15:14). Yet his plans to marry a Philistine woman, cavorting with
a prostitute, and getting mixed up with Delilah all reveal a judge with exceedingly
poor judgment! (No doubt there is a moral in here somewhere about how God often
works despite humans rather than because of them!)

The theology of Judges emphasizes the nadir of Israelite morality and religion�with
two vivid narratives at the book’s end to illustrate this (chapters 17�21). In
light of the repeated theme “everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (17:6;
21:25; cp 2:10�23), we could say that Morriston is expecting too much moral uprightness
from characters in a book depicting Israel’s moral nosedive. Not only did the Mosaic
Law clearly prohibit child sacrifice�something known to the judges; Scripture itself
reminds us that not all behavioral examples in Scripture are good ones (cp. 1 Cor.
10:1�12). We do not have to look hard for negative exemplars in Judges of Israelites
in the moral basement. No explicit statement of Yahweh’s obvious disapproval is
needed.

6. Total Annihilation and “Bludgeoning Babies”?

(a) “All that breathes.”

I observed in my previous essay that the language of total obliteration (“all
that breathes”) is an ANE rhetorical device, an exaggeration commonly associated
with warfare. For example, in Deuteronomy 2:34 (“we captured all his cities at that
time and utterly destroyed the men, women and children of every city. We left no
survivor.”) and 3:6 (“. . . utterly destroying the men, women and children of every
city”), we come upon what is a standard expression of military bravado in ANE warfare.
In 7:2�5, alongside Yahweh’s command to “destroy” the Canaanites is the assumption
they would not be obliterated�hence the warnings not to make political alliances
or intermarry with them. That is, we have stock ANE phrases referring to a crushing
defeat
and utter obliteration in my earlier article, but
this is what Goldingay calls “monumental hyperbole.”[30]
After all, the books of Joshua and Judges themselves make clear that many inhabitants
remained in the land.[31]
“While Joshua does speak of Israel’s utterly destroying the Canaanites, even these
accounts can give a misleading impression: peoples that have been annihilated have
no trouble reappearing later in the story; after Judah puts Jerusalem to the sword,
its occupants are still living there �to this day’ (Judg. 1:8, 21).”[32]

OT scholar Richard Hess has written on the Canaanite question, offering further
insights on the entire discussion.[33]
(Following Hess here, I shall present “Scenario 1,” which argues that the Canaanites
targeted for destruction were political leaders and their armies rather than noncombatants
.)[34]
Hess’s research has led him to conclude that the ban (herem) of Deuteronomy
20:10�18 refers to “the total destruction of all warriors in the battle,”
[35]
not noncombatants.
[36]
But does not Joshua 6:21 mention the ban�”every living thing in it”�in connection
with “men and women, young and old, cattle, sheep and donkeys”? The stock phrase
“men and women [lit. �from man (and) unto woman’]” occurs seven times in the OT�Ai
(Josh. 8:25); Amalek (1 Sam. 15:3); Saul at Nob (1 Sam. 22:19 [only here are children
explicitly mentioned]); Jerusalem during Ezra’s time (Neh. 8:2); and Israel (2
Sam 6:19 = 2 Chron. 15:3). Each time�except at Nob, where Saul killed the entire
priestly family, save one (1 Sam. 21:20)�the word “all [kol]” is used.
Hess contends that “the phrase [�men and women’] appears to be stereotypical for
describing all the inhabitants of a town or region, without predisposing the reader
to assume anything further about their ages or even their genders.”[37]

(b) The military forts of Jericho and Ai.

As we look specifically at Joshua’s language concerning Jericho and Ai, it appears
harsh at first glance: “They devoted the city to the Lord and destroyed with the
sword every living thing in it�men and women, young and old, cattle, sheep and donkeys”
(6:21); and again, “[t]welve thousand men and women fell that day�all the people
of Ai” (8:25).[38]
As we shall see below, this stereotypical language describes attacks on military
forts or garrisons�not a general population that includes women and children. Jericho
and Ai were military strongholds guarding the travel routes from the Jordan Valley
up to population centers in the hill country. That means that Israel’s wars here
are directed toward government and military installments. So the mention “women”
and “young and old” turns out to be stock ANE language that could be used even
if “women” and “young and old” were not living there
. The language of “all”
(“men and women”) at Jericho and Ai is, in Hess’s words, a “stereotypical expression
for the destruction of all human life in the fort, presumably composed entirely
of combatants.”[39]
The text just does not require that “women” and “young and old” must have
been in these cities.

The term “city” (�ir) reinforces this theme.[40]
Regarding Jericho, Ai, and other cities in Canaan, Hess writes: “we know that many
of these �cities’ were used primarily for government buildings, and the common
people lived in the surrounding countryside.”[41]
Archaeological evidence points to the lack of civilian populations at Jericho, Ai,
and other cities mentioned in Joshua. That “cities” were fortresses or citadels
is made all the more clear by an associated term, melek (“king”), which
was used in Canaan during this time for a military leader. What
is more, the battles in Joshua do not mention noncombatants (women and children).
Hess adduces inscriptional, archaeological, and other such evidences that Jericho
was a small settlement of probably 100 or fewer soldiers. This is why all of Israel
could circle it seven times in one day and then do battle against it.[42]
So if Jericho was a fort, then “all” those killed therein were warriors�Rahab and
her family being the exceptional noncombatants dwelling within this militarized
camp.[43]
The same applies throughout the book of Joshua. All of this turns out to be quite
the opposite of what many have been taught in Sunday school classes!

(c) Rahab in a tavern.

What, then of Rahab? She was in charge of what was likely the fortress’s tavern
or hostel rather than a brothel, though these were sometimes run by prostitutes.[44]
Such overnight places for traveling caravans and royal messengers were common during
this period.[45]
The Code of Hammurabi (�109) parallels what we see in Joshua 2: “If conspirators
meet in the house of a tavern-keeper, and these conspirators are not captured and
delivered to the court, the tavern-keeper shall be put to death.” As Moshe Weinfeld
notes, such reconnaissance missions were a “widespread phenomenon in the east.”
Such an innkeeper’s home would be “the accustomed place for meeting with spies,
conspirators, and the like.” In light of such potential security threats, the Hittites
prohibited the building of any such inn or tavern near fortress walls.[46]

We could add here, contra Morriston, that the author of Joshua goes
out of his way to indicate that no sexual liaison took place: the spies “stayed
there” (2:1)�not “stayed with her,” which would imply something sexual.
Consider Samson, by contrast, who “saw a harlot, and went in to her” (Judg. 16:1).
The OT does not shrink from using such language; we just do not have any sexual
reference here. Rather, as observed above, the book of Joshua depicts Rahab as a
true God-fearer. Yes, such taverns in the ANE would draw people seeking sexual pleasure,
but this just does not apply to the Israelite spies, who visited there because it
was a public place where they could learn about the practical and military dispositions
of the area and could solicit a possible “fifth column” of support.[47]

(d) Israel’s warfare methods.

When we examine Israel’s warfare, we should consider a number of features that
help minimize the notion that Israel’s army consisted of bloodthirsty, maniacal
warmongers. First, the aftermath of Joshua’s victories are featherweight descriptions
in comparison to those found in the annals of the major empires of the ANE�whether
Hittite and Egyptian (second millennium), Aramaean, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian,
or Greek (first millennium).[48]
Unlike Joshua’s brief, four-verse description of the treatment of the five kings
(10:24�27), the Neo-Assyrian annals of Asshurnasirpal (tenth century) take pleasure
in describing the atrocities which gruesomely describe the flaying of live victims,
the impaling of others on poles, and the heaping up of bodies for display.[49]

Second, a number of battles that Israel fought on the way to and within Canaan
were defensive: the Amalekites attacked the traveling Israelites (Exod. 17:8); the
Canaanite king of Arad attacked and captured some Israelites (Num. 21:1); the Amorite
king Sihon refused Israel’s peaceful overtures and attacked instead (Num. 21:21�32;
Deut. 2:26); Bashan’s king Og came out to meet Israel in battle (Num. 21:3; Deut.
3:1); Israel responded to Midian’s calculated attempts to lead Israel astray through
idolatry and immorality (Num. 31:2�3; cp. Num. 25 and 31:16); five kings attacked
Gibeon, which Joshua defended because of Israel’s peace pact with the Gibeonites
(Josh. 10:4). Furthermore, God prohibited Israel from conquering other
neighboring nations: (i) Moab and Ammon (Deut. 2:9, 19); (ii) Edom (Deut. 2:4; 23:7)�despite
the fact that Edom had earlier refused to assist the Israelites (Num. 20:14�21;
cp. Deut. 2:6�8).

Third, all sanctioned “Yahweh battles” beyond the time of Joshua were
defensive ones, including Joshua’s battle to defend Gibeon (Josh. 10�11).[50]
Of course, while certain offensive battles take place in Judges and under David
and beyond, these are not commended as ideal or exemplary.[51]

(e) “Driving them out.”

We should carefully note the language of “driving out” and “thrusting out” the
Canaanites (Exod. 23:28; Lev. 18:24; Num. 33:52: Deut. 6:19; 7:1; 9:4; 18:12; Josh.
10:28, 30, 32, 35, 37, 39; 11:11, 14) or “dispossessing” them of their land (Num.
21:32). “Driving out” is not at all the same as the “wiping out” or “destroying”
passages found in these same contexts. Upon examination, the former references are
three times as numerous as the latter.[52]
When a foreign army might pose a threat in the ANE, women and children would be
the first to remove themselves from harm’s way�not to mention the population at
large: “When a city is in danger of falling,” observes Goldingay, “people do not
simply wait there to be killed; they get out. . . . Only people who do not get out,
such as the city’s defenders, get killed.”[53]
Jeremiah 4:29 suggests this:

At the sound of the horseman and bowman every city flees;
They go into the thickets and climb among the rocks; Every city is forsaken, and
no man dwells in them.

Hess draws the following conclusions: “There is no indication in the text of
any specific noncombatants who were put to death.” Indeed, the “justified wars”
of Joshua “were against combatants.”[54]
We read in Joshua (and Judges) that, despite the “obliteration” language, there
are plenty of Canaanite inhabitants who are not “driven out” but rather are living
in the areas where Israel has settled. Joshua himself refers to “these [nations]
which remain among you” (Josh. 23:12�13; cp. Josh. 15:63; 16:10; 17:13; Judg. 2:10�13).
The process of driving them out would be a gradual one, as even Deuteronomy 7:22
anticipates and is reaffirmed in Judges 2:20�23.[55]

Israel’s occupation of Canaan involved not simply military activity, but also
infiltration and internal struggle.[56]
In my previous article, I note that the text of Deuteronomy 7:2�5, Joshua, and Judges
suggests that we have the language of (i) obliteration as well as (ii)
acknowledgment of Canaanites as future neighbors. Goldingay comments that
Israel knew how to read Torah: “It knew it was not to assume a literalistic understanding”
of destroying the Canaanites. That is, Moses did not mean for this to be taken literally.
Rather, as Goldingay notes, “Israel was to dispossess the Canaanites and destroy
their forms of religion and have nothing to do with them.” That is, Israel took
this “totally destroy” command metaphorically or hyperbolically�which reflected
the ANE language of bravado and exaggeration in warfare.[57]

To summarize, we should distinguish between two central aspects of the Canaanite
question. On the one hand, herem includes stereotypical language of “all”
and “young and old” and “man and woman”�even if women and children are not present.
So far as we can see, herem is carried out in particular military/combatant
settings (with “cities” and “kings”); this specific combatant scenario could well
apply in the Amalekite case (1 Sam. 15). In these limited settings, herem
is thoroughly carried out (involving even livestock [for example, 1 Sam. 15:9, 14])�though
it allows, and hopes for, exceptions (for example, Rahab). The sweeping language
which appears to involve only combatants is truly all-inclusive here. On the other
hand, evident in Deuteronomy�Judges is the clearly exaggerated ANE language of utter
obliteration and total destruction. These hyperbolic references to “totally destroy[ing]”
run on parallel tracks with regular mention of many remaining Canaanite inhabitants
after the “total destruction” (for example, Judg. 1). Additionally, we should take
seriously the many references of “driving out” the Canaanites, to clear away the
land for habitation, which does not require killing. Civilians would flee when their
military strongholds were destroyed and no longer capable of protecting them.

(7) Inefficient Means?

Morriston raises an “embarrassing” question: “Assuming that God’s desire to
destroy the Canaanite religion by destroying the Canaanites was a legitimate one,
why would He choose such an inefficient means of accomplishing this aim?” God could
have easily removed them from the scene and avoided this “spectacularly unsuccessful”
plan of allowing idolaters to remain in Israel’s midst. Wasn’t the point of killing
Canaanites to prevent Israel’s being pulled down spiritually and morally?

Too much theological weight should not be given to some efficiency criterion�that
God is the being than which nothing more efficient can be conceived! Indeed, what
theological reason compels us to assume that God must necessarily operate with maximal
Germanic efficiency? Just as God is not hot and bothered that a small planetary
speck would be home to all the universe’s inhabitants (while the rest of the cosmos
is uninhabited and uninhabitable), so God takes plenty of time and utilizes ostensibly
less-than-efficient means to accomplish his purposes. For example, he gets the ball
rolling with a barren, elderly couple�Abraham and Sarah�and chooses to work through
a stubborn and rebellious nation. Perhaps we should think in terms of sufficiency
rather than efficiency. In fact, this alleged embarrassment may actually
indicate historical reliability rather than legendary fabrication; perhaps we can
appeal to the “criterion of embarrassment” as an indicator of historicity/authenticity!

So why didn’t God make sure that none of the Canaanites was left to lead Israel
into idolatry? God was working through often-inefficient processes to accomplish
his salvation-historical ends, which did not require killing every last Canaanite,
but ensuring that they were sufficiently driven out so as not to be an
undermining spiritual and moral threat while Israel developed as a nation.[58]

Israel’s failure to drive out this threat and destroy Canaanite religion indeed
brought mixed results, and they paid for their compromises with an Assyrian captivity
of the northern kingdom and then a Babylonian captivity of the southern (for example,
2 Kings 17:7�41; 2 Chron. 36:15�21)�despite regular prophetic warnings and periodic
kingly reforms. The theological and moral threat of foreign religion, however, did
not so damage Israel as to eradicate its monotheism and covenantal awareness that
would emerge with greater force in the wake of the Babylonian captivity. By the
first century AD, a theological stage had been sufficiently set through the preservation
of Israel’s scriptures and national historical identity, the restoration of the
temple and cultus, heightened messianic expectations, dedication to monotheism,
and so on. Despite Israel’s compromises and rebellions over the centuries, Jesus’s
arrival on the scene came “in the fullness of time” (Gal. 4:4). “Efficient”? Not
self-evidently so. Sufficient? Certainly.

(8) Precedent-setting?

Rauser raises questions about the killing of the Canaanites as setting a negative,
brutal precedent for the nation of Israel. As a general response, one could cite
Goldingay here: “the fate of the Canaanites is about as illuminating a starting
point for understanding First Testament ethics as Gen 22 [Abraham’s binding of
Isaac] would be for an understanding of the family.”[59]

Here I would affirm Buijs’s nuanced discussion of the alleged harm of religion.
He makes the salient distinctions asking whether “religion is indeed the cause�or
even a cause�of harmful acts” and whether “religion is exclusively
harmful or at least more harmful than beneficial in its individual and
social consequences.”[60]

Beyond this, let me offer two more specific responses.

First, the killing of the Canaanites was sui generis, limited to this
particular period of time of Joshua and shortly thereafter, after whose time Israel’s
warranted battles (“Yahweh wars”) were defensive. That the (rhetorical)
language of obliteration was not intended to be precedent-setting is clear from
Deuteronomy 20, which applies herem to cities in the land (20:16�18)�not
cities far away. In the former case, we are not talking about genocide or ethnic
cleansing, but a kind of corporate capital punishment that was deliberately
limited in scope
and restricted to a specific period of time.
Was Israel’s warfare in Canaan precedent-setting? In Goldingay’s words, “Saul
does not seek to devote the Philistines and David does not seek to devote the surrounding
peoples whom he did conquer. Neither Ephraim nor Judah took on Assyria, Babylon,
Persia, or the local equivalents of the Canaanites in the Second Temple period.”
He adds that Deuteronomy and Joshua do not set a pattern that “invites later Israel
to follow, or that later Israel does follow.”[61]

Second, what is puzzling is that professing Christians (during the Crusades,
for instance) inspired by the killing of the Canaanites to justify their actions
completely ignored Jesus’s own kingdom teaching.[62]
Yet Jesus had informed Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were
of this world, My servants would be fighting” (John 18:36). Again, “all those who
take up the sword shall perish by the sword” (Matt. 26:52). On the other hand, we
can confidently say that, precisely because of their commitment to Christ’s kingdom
not being of this world, the Amish and Mennonite people would most certainly not
appeal to Canaanite-killing passages to engage in atrocities. The difference is
that some professing Christians are far more obviously consistent in applying Jesus’s
teaching than others. Buijs’s point that we ought to distinguish the “revelatory
root of religion” from “its human appropriation in a religious tradition” is well-taken.[63]

(9) A Default Position (“Scenario 2”).

Readers will observe a slight shift in my approach to the Canaanite question,
thanks in large part to the further input of Richard Hess’s and John Goldingay’s
recent work. However, what if “Scenario 1” (above) fails? What if it turns out that
women and children actually were the explicit objects of herem
by Yahweh’s command�even if we allow for hyperbole in phrases such as “everything
that breathes”? I discuss the possibility of this alternative below.

(a) “Psychologically and spiritually shattering.”

Rauser and Morriston raise questions regarding the psychological damage done
to combatants who brutally kill women and children (for example, the My Lai massacre).
Now Rauser describes killing the Canaanites in Scenario 2 as a “morally praiseworthy”
act. Certain acts may be just (for example, a just war), but describing such involvement
as “morally praiseworthy” is misleading. As Confederate general Robert E. Lee affirmed,
“It is well that war is so terrible; otherwise we should grow too fond of it.”[64]
Rather, theologian John Stott’s wording regarding the killing of the Canaanites
is apropos: “It was a ghastly business; one shrinks from it in horror.”[65]
If babies were involved, surely this was a grim task.[66]
Yet the killing of the Canaanites was deliberately temporary and sui generis.
Furthermore, in the ANE, warfare was a way of life and a means of survival�a
situation in which combatant and noncombatant were not always distinguished. This
fact, in combination with the hardness of human hearts (Matt. 19:8) and human
moral bluntedness in the ANE
,[67]
would likely render such actions considerably less psychologically damaging for
the Israelite soldier.

(b) The context of God’s goodness, enemy love, and overarching
purposes.

As mentioned earlier, God’s overarching goal is to bring blessing and salvation
to all the nations, including the Canaanites through Abraham (Gen. 12:3; 22:17�18;
cp. 28:13�14). This sweeping, outsider-oriented, universally-directed covenant is
utterly unique among ancient religious movements.[68]
Yes, for a specific, relatively short, and strategic period, God sought to establish
Israel in the land, simultaneously punishing a wicked people ripe for judgment.
During this time, God was certainly willing to preserve any who acknowledged his
evident lordship over the nations, which was very well known to the Canaanites (Josh.
2:8�11; 9:9�11, 24; cf. Exod. 15:14�17; Deut. 2:25). Even Israel’s sevenfold march
around[69]
Jericho, each circumambulation serving as an opportunity for Jericho to evade the
ban, was sadly matched by Jericho’s sevenfold refusal to relent and acknowledge
Yahweh’s rule.

Furthermore, God’s difficult command regarding the Canaanites as a limited,
unique salvation-historical situation
is comparable to God’s difficult command
to Abraham in Genesis 22 (a passage Morriston mentions in connection with human
sacrifice, which we discussed earlier). Behind both of these harsh commands, however,
are the clear context of Yahweh’s loving intentions and faithful promises. In the
first, God has given Abraham the miracle child Isaac, through whom God has promised
to make Abraham the father of many. Previously, he saw God’s provision when he
reluctantly let Ishmael and Hagar go into the wilderness�with God reassuring Abraham
that Ishmael would live to become a great nation. Likewise, Abraham knew that God
would somehow fulfill his covenant promises through Isaac�even if it meant that
God would raise him from the dead. Thus Abraham informed his servants, “we will
worship, and then we will come back to you return” (Gen. 22:5 [NRSV]; cp. Heb. 11:19).[70]
With the second harsh command regarding the Canaanites, Yahweh has already promised
to bring blessing to all the families of the earth without exclusion (Gen. 12:1�3;
22:17�18). As previously observed, God is in the business of eventually turning
Israel’s enemies into his friends and incorporating them into his family. As Abraham
said of Isaac, it is as though ancient Israel could confidently say of its enemies
like the Assyrians, Egyptians, and Canaanites (Isa. 19:25; Matt. 15:22):  “we
will worship together” (cp. Isa. 2:3). So while we have troubling exceptions in
each of these scenarios, these should be set against the background of Yahweh’s
enemy-loving character and worldwide salvific purposes.

Similarly, though blameless yet severely afflicted, Job received no clear answer
to his questions, but he did receive assurances of God’s wisdom, which far surpasses
ours. He learned that God’s character is trustworthy and his presence sufficient,
even when we remain baffled in the face of unanswered questions.

In Jonah’s day, God did not punish the Ninevites�to the great disappointment
of Jonah, who knew that this is the sort of thing Yahweh does�he loves
his (and Israel’s) enemies: “I knew that You are a gracious and compassionate God,
slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness, and one who relents concerning calamity”
(Jon. 4:2; cf. Exod. 34:6).

Jesus, who sees himself as the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets (Matt.
5:17), affirms that the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob is one who loves his enemies
and calls on us to imitate this complete love (Matt. 5:43�48). We even see God commanding
enemy-love in the OT�to show concern for the alien and stranger and enemy (for example,
Exod. 23:4). The “Canaanite exception” is a glaring one in the midst of many affirmations
of Yahweh’s lovingkindness and concern for his own enemies. To affirm Buijs’s
general point, we can say that Jesus himself does not view the killing of the Canaanites
to be an intrinsic tenet or permanent norm for Christians.

Scriptures attest to divine love, but also judgment: “Behold then the kindness
and severity of God” (Rom. 11:22). Paul Moser observes:

It would be a strange, defective God who didn’t pose a serious cosmic authority
problem for humans. Part of the status of being God, after all, is that
God has a unique authority, or lordship, over humans. Since we humans aren’t God,
the true God would have authority over us and would seek to correct our profoundly
selfish ways.[71]

Despite Morriston’s reference to C. S. Lewis’s “wise words” about God’s “gradual
and graded self-revelation,” he hardly negates Lewis’s assertion that “Aslan” is
not “safe.” Elsewhere, Lewis commends “the obstinacy of faith.” He asserts that
trust in a personal God (as opposed to a mere proposition) “could have no room to
grow except where there is also room for doubt.” Lewis goes so far as to say that
love involves trusting a friend beyond the evidence�even, at times, against such
evidence. He reminds us that we should give the benefit of the doubt to a friend,
even if the friend may display seemingly puzzling and uncharacteristic behavior.
For example, if a trusted friend pledges to meet us somewhere but fails to show
up, which of us “would not feel slightly ashamed if, one moment after we had given
him up, he arrived with a full explanation of his delay? We should feel that we
ought to have known him better.”[72]
Just so.

As with Job, the full picture is not always available. We are not necessarily
in the best cognitive position to discern God’s purposes.[73]
We may find ourselves left with a puzzling gap between what we clearly know of God
and what seems to be a harsh exception (assuming here that Scenario 1 is false).
Having tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8), we should deal with such
questions in the context of a loving, compassionate, and just personal God who has
the long-term good of even his enemies in mind. Yet we have excellent reason for
thinking that Scenario 1 is correct and that we do not need to resort to the default
position.[74]

For references to this article,
click here.

Symposium: Did God Mandate Genocide?

Philosophia Christi (Summer 2009) features a fascinating symposium that diversely addresses the theme, “Did God Mandate Genocide?” Primarily in view is the Old Testament destruction of the Canaanites.

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Contributors to this discussion include: Wesley Morriston, Randal Rauser, Joseph Buijs, Clay Jones and Paul Copan.

This discussion was originally prompted by Copan’s Philosophia Christi 10:1 (Summer 2008) article, “Is Yahweh a Moral Monster? The New Atheists and Old Testament Ethics.”

Below is a snapshot of each of the contributions:

Did God Command Genocide? A Challenge to the Biblical Inerrantist
by Wesley Morriston

Abstract: Thoughtful Christians who hold the Old Testament in high regard must at some point come to terms with those passages in which God is said to command what appear (to us) to be moral atrocities. In the present paper, I argue that the genocide passages in the Old Testament provide us with a strong prima facie reason to reject biblical inerrancy—that in the absence of better reasons for thinking that the Bible is inerrant, a Christian should conclude that God did not in fact command genocide. I shall also consider and reject the attempts of two prominent Christian philosophers to show that God had morally sufficient reasons for commanding the Israelites to engage in genocidal attacks against foreign peoples.

“Let Nothing that Breathes Remain Alive”: On the Problem of Divinely Commanded Genocide
by Randal Rauser

Abstract: In this essay I argue that God did not command the Canaanite genocide. I begin by critiquing Paul Copan’s defense of Canaanite genocide. Next, I develop four counter-arguments. First, we know intuitively that it is always wrong to bludgeon babies. Second, even if killing babies were morally praiseworthy, the soul-destroying effect these actions would have on the perpetrators would constitute a moral atrocity. Third, I develop an undercutting defeater to the claim that Yahweh commanded genocide. Finally, I argue that we ought to repudiate divinely commanded genocide given the justification this provides for ongoing moral atrocities.

Atheism and the Argument from Harm
by Joseph Buijs

Abstract: One line of argument commonly lodged against religion is that it is usually or alway sharmful, individually and socially, and for that reason should be abolished from our cultural landscape. I consider two variations of the argument: one that appeals to direct harm caused by religion and another that appeals to indirect harm on the basis of attitudes instilled by religion. Both versions, I contend, are seriously flawed. Hence, this so-called harm argument fails, both as a critique of theism and as a defense of atheism.

We Don’t Hate Sin So We Don’t Understand What Happened to the Canaanites: An Addendum to “Divine Genocide” Arguments
by Clay Jones

Abstract: Skeptics challenge God’s fairness for ordering Israel to destroy the Canaanites, but a close look at the horror of Canaanite sinfulness, the corruptive and seductive power of their sin as seen in the Canaanization of Israel, and God’s subsequently instituting Israel’s own destruction because of Israel’s committing Canaanite sin reveals that God was just in His ordering the Canaanite’s destruction. But Western culture’s embrace of “Canaanite sin” inoculates it against the seriousness of that sin and so renders it incapable of responding to Canaanite sin with the appropriate moral outrage.

Yahweh Wars and the Canaanites: Divinely-Mandated Genocide or Corporate Capital Punishment? Response to Critics
by Paul Copan

Abstract: The divine command to kill the Canaanites is the most problematic of all Old Testament ethical issues. This article responds to challenges raised by Wes Morriston and Randal Rauser. It argues that biblical and extrabiblical evidence suggests that the Canaanites who were killed were combatants rather than noncombatants (“Scenario 1”) and that, given the profound moral corruption of Canaan, this divinely-directed act was just. Even if it turns out that noncombatants were directly targeted (“Scenario 2”), the overarching Old Testament narrative is directed toward the salvation of all nations—including the Canaanites.

President’s 2008 Year-end Recap

Dear EPS friends,

It was a joy to see many of you at our
EPS annual meeting in
Providence last month.  Each year I eagerly anticipate making
that pre-Thanksgiving pilgrimage to EPS for the stimulating papers
and conversation, the Christian fellowship, and the opportunity to
serve together with many of you at our annual
apologetics
conference
.

We have many reasons for rejoicing in what God is doing within
the EPS.  Let me mention a few of them.

  • At this time last year,
    Philosophia Christi
    subscriptions
    were down considerably due to an outdated, inefficient website.
     As many of you know, back in 2005 I had begun discussions to
    spearhead a plan to completely upgrade our website. Chad
    Meister, Scott Smith, Joe Gorra, Craig Hazen, and others worked
    long and hard on this project alongside our new webmaster Lenny
    Esposito.  Finally, in October 2007, our sharp-looking,
    efficiently-working, cutting-edge website was launched.  In one
    year, we have received over 500 new subscriptions (now over
    1,570) – with fifty more were added at our recent apologetics
    conference.  What a marvelous difference this year has
    made!
  • Earnestly Contending, our sixth annual
    apologetics
    conference
    , took place in Smithfield, RI in conjunction with the
    EPS’s annual meeting. This conference drew nearly 800
    attendees�an excellent showing for New England. During that
    weekend, forty pastors were expected to attend a luncheon to
    receive encouragement and practical training in promoting the
    role of apologetics in local churches.  Well, over 110 showed
    up! In fact, the pastors’ response was so positive that we’re
    planning on hosting these luncheons every year.  And how
    encouraging that over 100 attended the various youth sessions. 
    Bill Craig, who takes the lead in organizing the conference each
    year called Earnestly Contending "among the top three
    conferences we’ve held so far!"  The host church pastor,
    Rev. Steve Boyce, said that all the initial reports he’s
    received "have been just rave reviews!"  Thanks to Bill and to
    Pastor Steve and his volunteers at the Worship Center for
    helping to bring all of this together.
  • After the
    apologetics conference, Bill Craig, Gary Habermas,
    Jim Sinclair, and I were able to sit down for over two hours
    with a couple of atheists who had crashed the party.  It
    was an excellent time of discussion and building relationships
    with them. One of them wrote a note to me afterwards, mentioning
    that the conference was "excellent" and that, despite our
    philosophical differences, "there is just something irresistible
    and winsome about Christian friendship."
  • Chad Meister has helped coordinate another international outreach
    effort scheduled for next fall at Hokkaido University in Japan. 
    For health reasons, though, Chad is stepping down as EPS vice
    president and as international outreach coordinator, but I want to
    thank him heartily for his energy, resourcefulness, wisdom, and
    graciousness. Please pray for him as well as this upcoming venture.

While we’re on the topic, I’d like to say thanks to Stewart
Kelly, Bob Stewart, Rich Davis, and Bob Larmer for their service on
the EPS executive committee, and we welcome four new members to our
EC: Jeremy Evans, Craig Mitchell, Bill Dembski, and Bruce Little.

Again, as I recently wrote, I would ask you to support the EPS
with your prayers and financial gifts.  Indeed, God is at work
in and through the EPS!  May we remain faithful co-laborers
with him in a remarkable movement that he has wrought!
Advent blessings to you all!

Paul Copan,
EPS President

Take Advantage of the New Subscriber Discount Before it Expires!

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Regardless if you are full-time professor, a student, or you want a subscription for your library, here’s the deal that we are running, which is set to expire 12/31/2008:

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The current issue has two major symposiums; one on Allison’s Resurrecting Jesus and the other on Abraham’s Crossing the Threshold of Divine Revelation. Of course, there’s other great articles, notes and book reviews by such authors like Graham Oppy, William Lane Craig, Paul Copan, and Michael Rea — and yes, Antony Flew reviews Dawkins’ God Delusion!