Events in the last few months have thrust Christianity into view in the public square in a way I haven’t witnessed in a long time. Spiritual curiosity is on the rise everywhere, it seems. We’re experiencing it at STR and hearing of the surge of activity with Christian groups and local churches around the country.
As interest in Christ increases, so do both the questions raised by genial spiritual tire-kickers and the challenges offered by more aggressive hardcore skeptics. Thus, in this month’s Solid Ground, I’m continuing to respond to what I’ve called “rapid-fire” challenges. Some are rather simple; others are more complex. Understanding each, though, will help you be a better ambassador for Christ during this surge of interest in him.
“Christians are stupid.”
My simple response to this slight is, “Yes, some of them are. So what?”
When I lectured on relativism at UC San Diego years ago, I’d heard that many students on campus thought Christians were not very bright, so I started my lecture with that point.
“I understand that some of you think Christians are stupid,” I said. “Well, many of them are. But many non-Christians are stupid, too, so I don’t know what that gets you. What I want to show you tonight is that Christianity is not stupid.”
The fact is, lots of religious people are dull-witted and gullible, but so are multitudes of non-religious people. Conjectures about Christians’ low IQ get you nowhere since nothing useful follows from the observation—even if accurate—that some believers are not very clever. The challenge is a dead end because you cannot refute a belief simply by denigrating the believer.
I was once asked why it seemed that most intelligent people don’t believe in Christ. I said it was the same reason most unintelligent people don’t believe in Christ. It has nothing to do with intelligence. Rather, Christianity makes too big of a moral and ethical demand on people. Simply put, they don’t want to bend the knee. The problem is moral, not intellectual.
“Morality based on God is just another form of relativism.”
During a panel discussion I participated in after a talk I gave at the University of Alaska, one of the philosophy professors on the panel mentioned that a divine command approach to morality like the one found in Scripture is just another form of ethical subjectivism—relativism, that is. This troubled me because I believe in God’s moral absolutes. As an ethical objectivist, I’m committed to the idea that God’s commands are the foundation for all our moral obligations. That’s a form of divine command morality. Yet, the comment seemed to put divine command ethics on par with ordinary moral relativism.
In a certain sense, the philosopher had a point. Generally speaking, subjectivism in morality is when moral truth is completely dependent on an individual subject—the person holding the moral conviction. Good and evil are not objective features of the world on this view but are subjective judgments of individual minds. God is a subject—a mind, true enough—and on divine command theory, morality is grounded in him. At first glance, then, it seems that grounding morality in God provides no rescue from ordinary relativism.
But it does. Here’s why.
In moral relativism, morality is based on a subject—a human individual or group of individuals—whose beliefs about what is moral and what is immoral can change over time. What’s right or wrong for that person or group at one point in time could be completely different at another point since human values vary. Nothing fixes morality in any absolute sense.
God is an individual subject, of course, but he’s a completely different sort of subject. He is a personal being, but he is also the very ground of being. He doesn’t give commands arbitrarily according to his changing whim—like ordinary subjectivism—because God doesn’t change. Rather, his commands flow forth from an objective source: his unchanging, morally perfect nature.
So even though God is a subject—a personal individual, so to speak—he is also an object of fixed moral perfection, the standard of good by which all other good (and bad) is measured.
The problem with relativistic morality grounded in human subjects is that humans are numerous and they are capricious. There are many of them, resulting in a variety of moralities, and their moralities change over time because they are not grounded in or attached to anything fixed and moral in itself.
In an odd sort of way, then, morality grounded in God can be objective yet still relative to a subject. In this case, though, that subject is God himself—the objective ground of moral perfection and, therefore, the only unchanging, morally perfect, objective standard for all moral good.
“Radical Christianity is just as dangerous as radical Islam.”
The word “radical” is ambiguous here and needs clarification, along with the word “dangerous,”[1] especially since the theologies of these two religions are so different. What does a radical Christian look like compared to a radical Muslim?
I take this sense of “radical” to mean a religious extremist—one who has a thorough and complete dedication to his spiritual convictions. Being a religious radical in that sense is not always a liability, though. Mother Teresa followed her convictions to the extreme by creating the Missionaries of Charity and spending her life caring for the poor in the slums of Calcutta.
So, whether or not religious “radicalism” is dangerous depends entirely on the fundamental beliefs that a person pursues in the extreme. Generally, religious radicals are dangerous if their theology dictates violence towards unbelievers and/or denial of fundamental human liberties.
Since no religion can be held responsible for the crimes of its heretics, it’s important to be clear on the orthodox fundamentals that define a given religion.
The word “fundamentalist” has a negative connotation and is often used to discredit and marginalize Christians. Taken in a merely descriptive sense, though, religious fundamentalism is characterized by three things. A fundamentalist 1) faithfully follows his religious leader, 2) obeys his religious book, and 3) adheres to the fundamental dictates of his religion.
So how do Christianity and Islam compare by these standards?
What faithful imitation of Christ leads readily to oppression and wanton bloodshed? None. What New Testament teaching mandates forcible conversion to the faith? None. What fundamental dictates of Christian theology command coerced adherence to biblical doctrines? None.[2]
None of these are logical consequences of the teachings of Christ or of the doctrines of Christianity. If they’re not, then oppression and violence done in the name of Christ cannot be laid at his door. Jesus himself warned of interlopers, of wolves in sheep’s clothing. His assessment of them was clear: “I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness” (Matt. 7:23).
Well-meaning but misguided people who self-profess Christianity sometimes do regrettable things, often out of ignorance. This is not an excuse, of course, but it shows that the problem is not with “radical” Christian religion, but with misinformed or malicious individuals.
What about Islam? What does a “radical Muslim extremist” look like—one who is thoroughly and completely dedicated to his spiritual convictions, who follows Mohammed, obeys the Quran, and adheres to Islamic fundamentals?
We’re all familiar with the concept of violent jihad characteristic of many followers of Islam because examples of it show up frequently in the news. Their actions are not a result of well-meaning but misguided zeal since they’re following the example of their leader, who regularly justified military force to advance Islam.
The Quran, their religious book recording their fundamental doctrines and practices, commands the following in surah 9:29:
Fight those who do not believe in Allah and the Last Day, nor comply with what Allah and His Messenger have forbidden, nor embrace the religion of truth from among those who were given the Scripture, until they pay the tax, willingly submitting, fully humbled.
Note that surah 9 is one of the last revelations given by Mohammed.[3] According to the Muslim “principle of abrogation,” when a contradiction occurs between two passages, the later surahs annul the earlier revelations. Thus, any older, more tolerant-sounding teachings of Mohammed are abrogated (nullified) by surah 9, which teaches violence, subjugation, and religious jihad as a spiritual duty.[4]
To summarize the contrast, note this. Mohammed died in AD 632. In AD 732, Charles Martel successfully stopped the European military advance of the Islamic horde at the Battle of Tours. It took Muslim armies 100 years to forcibly conquer the entire Mediterranean region. It took Christians 300 years to “conquer” the same area, and the only blood they shed was their own.
Thus, it is not the case that radical Christianity is just as dangerous as radical Islam. The religions are at opposite ends of the spectrum when they are viewed at their “extremes”—extreme kindness, mercy, and tolerance from followers of Jesus versus extreme violence, suppression, and subjugation from followers of Muhammed.
“Do you take the Bible literally?”
This question sounds like it’s about one thing, but it’s usually about something else.
Let’s start with a definition. According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the word “literal” means “taking words in their usual or most basic sense without metaphor or allegory, free from exaggeration or distortion.”
The fact is, most people read most things in their usual or most basic sense, including when that sense employs standard literary tools like metaphors or allegories. I call it the “ordinary” way of reading. History is history, poetry is poetry, similes and metaphors are figures of speech, etc. Pretty straightforward.
Why do people hesitate, then, when applying this commonsense notion to the Bible or, more precisely, to certain passages in the Bible? The concern hinges not on how the Christian reads the text but on what the Christian thinks the text actually says.
Of course, no one balks at reading the Bible “literally” when its commands or theology suit their purposes. Jesus’ directive not to judge or his injunctions that we love each other seem clear and unambiguous. No trouble there.
The linguistic rules change, though, when the critic comes across something in the text that offends his own philosophical, theological, or moral sensibilities. “Jesus, the only way? No sex outside of marriage? Give me a break.”
Some claims seem so fanciful that it’s hard for skeptics to take the statements at face value. “Were Adam and Eve the first human beings? Was Adam created from dirt and Eve from Adam’s rib? Did Jonah survive three days in the belly of a great fish? Did a virgin really have a baby? You don’t take that stuff literally, do you?”
Yet, how else should we take it? Following the basic rule of reading the text the ordinary way, that seems to be what the author intended us to understand in each of these cases.
As I said, frequently the problem isn’t with how we read the text but with what the text clearly seems to say. If it’s offensive, odd, or inconvenient in some way, then the linguistic rules change for many. This subtle double standard, I think, is usually at the heart of the taking-the-Bible-literally challenge.
Next is a different sort of “literal” reading challenge.
“Homosexuality was punishable by death in the Old Testament, so Christians who take the Bible literally must promote the execution of homosexuals.”
The answer to this question is based on the difference between what I call taking the Bible literally vs. taking the Bible laterally. This distinction will also help show that Christians are not “cherry picking” moral dictates from parts of the Law while ignoring others, which is the basic complaint here.
In the Law of Moses, homosexual activity was punishable by death (Lev. 18:22–23 and 20:13). Therefore (the charge goes), any Christian who takes the Old Testament Law literally and opposes homosexuality must also advocate capital punishment for homosexuals, as the Law requires.
The strategy with this move is obvious: If we don’t promote executing homosexuals, then we can’t legitimately condemn their behavior, since both details are in the Law. If we don’t take the Bible literally in the first case, we shouldn’t in the second case, either.
How do we escape the horns of this dilemma? By using care and precision with our definitions, that’s how.
The Mosaic Law is the legislation that governed the commonwealth of Israel. So here’s our question: When Moses wrote that Law, did he expect the Jewish people to take those regulations literally?
If you’re not sure how to answer, let me ask it another way. When an ordinance is passed in your local state (California, in my case), do you think the legislators intend its citizens to understand the words of the regulations “in their usual or most basic sense without metaphor or allegory, free from exaggeration or distortion”?
Of course they do. Legal codes are not written in vague or figurative language allowing each citizen to get creative with the meaning. The same would be true for the Mosaic Law. Moses meant it the way he wrote it. He expected his directives to be taken at face value—as all legislation requires.
It seems, though, that now we’re stuck on the other horn of the dilemma. To be consistent, shouldn’t we currently campaign for the death penalty for homosexuals? For that matter, aren’t we obliged to promote execution for Sabbath-breakers and disobedient children, both capital crimes under the Law?
The simple answer is no. Here’s why. Even when a biblical command is intended to be understood literally, that does not mean it is intended to be applied laterally, so to speak—that is, universally across the board to all peoples at all times in all places. Any particular piece of legislation applies only to those who are under its jurisdiction. The Mosaic Law governed Jews during the theocracy. It does not govern them anymore, and it was never intended to govern Gentiles.
Here’s another way of looking at it. California legal codes are to be read literally but not applied laterally. The codes only apply to those in California and have no application to people in other states. California’s laws have local, literal application within its own borders but no lateral application anywhere not under its jurisdiction.
In the same way, the words of the Mosaic Law, like those of all laws, are to be taken at face value by anyone who reads them. Yet only those under its jurisdiction are obliged to obey its precepts.[5]
The Jews in the theocracy were expected to obey the legal code God gave them, including the prohibition of—and punishment for—homosexuality. It was not the legal code God gave to Gentiles, however. Therefore, even if the words of the Mosaic Law were to be taken literally by those under the jurisdiction of that code, this does not mean that in our current circumstances we are governed by the details of the provisions of that law.
Am I saying that nothing written in the Mosaic Law ever applies to Christians or other Gentiles? No, I’m not saying that. There are many universal moral obligations that humanity shares with the Jews of Moses’ time.
Though Moses gave legal statutes for Jews living in the Jewish state, the Mosaic Law in many cases still reflects broad ethical principles that show up in laws governing people in jurisdictions outside the commonwealth of Israel—though punishments may differ based on different legal sensibilities. Both California and Wisconsin prohibit homicide, for example. As I have written elsewhere:
Perversion is still perverse, and wickedness is still wrong, whether it be adultery, rape, incest, or bestiality—or any of a number of evil acts all condemned by Moses in the “old” Law.[6]
So yes, we can glean wisdom and moral guidance from the Law of Moses for our own legal codes, but there are limits. Working out those details is a different discussion, however.[7]
The key question here is not whether we take the Mosaic Law literally, but whether we are now under that legal code. We are not.[8] That law was meant for Jews living under a theocracy defined by their unique covenant with God. The fact that a directive appears in the Mosaic Law does not, by that fact alone, make it obligatory for those living outside of Israel’s ancient jurisdiction. It’s literal, but it’s not lateral.
Consider this situation. Jesus told Peter to cast his net into deep water (Luke 5:4). That’s exactly what Peter did because he took Jesus’ command literally, in its ordinary sense. He had no reason to think otherwise. However, even though Jesus’ command to Peter was literal, that does not mean the same command applies laterally to anyone else. We are not obligated to cast nets into deep water just because Peter was.
Americans are a mixture of peoples in a representative republic governed by a different set of decrees than the Jews under Moses. We are not obliged to obey everything that came down from Sinai. Just because it was commanded of the Jews, that does not mean it is commanded of us. Some moral precepts, however, will show up in every country’s legislation because they reflect universal ethical obligations.
Some may disagree, but if anyone wants to argue for a lateral application of all literal biblical injunctions, it seems to me he is also duty-bound to take his net and cast it into deep water.
In our next Solid Ground, I’ll respond to another batch of “rapid-fire” challenges.
[1] Thus, the initial tactical question, “What do you mean by that?” is in order here.
[2] Of course, ethical teachings of Scripture that prohibit behaviors like murder, rape, theft, perjury, kidnapping, etc., are universally acknowledged as immoral and are, for that reason, reflected in legal statutes. For more detail on this issue, see Gregory Koukl, “Getting ‘Political’—Vice or Christian Virtue?” at str.org.
[3] Surahs are not in chronological order.
[4] Not all Muslims hold to this version of Islam, of course, but vast numbers—hundreds of millions—do. In Islam, as in Christianity, there are both obedient fundamentalists (in the sense clarified above) and theological liberals who deviate from foundational orthodoxies.
[5] This principle is critical to understanding the role of Old Testament Law in New Testament times.
[6] See Gregory Koukl and Alan Shlemon, “A Reformation the Church Doesn’t Need: Answering Revisionist Pro-Gay Theology—Part 1,” available at str.org.
[7] For the record, I think the immorality of homosexuality is one of those universal moral laws since, among other reasons, it’s identified in the New Testament as immoral irrespective of the Mosaic Law (e.g., Rom. 1:27 and 1 Cor. 6:9).
[8] Note Paul’s discussion on this issue in Romans 7:1–6.