LCMS Convention Workbook St. Louis, Missouri — 2016, Page 164

Transcription machine transcription, uncorrected

⤓ Download .txt · copy text

164

IV. THEOLOGICAL DOCUMENTS­­—COMMISSION ON THEOLOGY AND CHURCH RELATIONS
Hardwired to Believe?
Waiting in the DMV, George found himself
George broke in, “Good point! So belief in God is
engrossed in an article about research from a long
even less warranted than belief in the tooth fairy!”
outdated news magazine on the formation of
Mary laughed. “No, that wasn’t my point. But let’s
religious belief in children. What especially piqued
run with it. Kids come to believe in the tooth fairy
his interest was the suggestion that belief in God
because of evidence. Why do they stop believing?”
appeared to be natural in children. The brain’s
“For me—because I actually woke up and caught
“hardwiring” seemed to predispose them to it. After
my dad swapping the tooth for a quarter.”
finishing the article he pointed it out to Maria: “This
is worth reading.”
It took Maria a moment to place the article; but
she then excitedly commented, “Oh, I’ve seen
that—dentist, doctor’s office, somewhere. Isn’t it
fascinating?”
George was surprised. “It is,” he said, “but I expected
you to find it more frustrating than fascinating.”
“Really?” Maria asked. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” George proceeded tentatively, having anticipated a few more moments to collect his thoughts;
“it seems pretty much to discredit belief in God,
don’t you think?”
“No, I didn’t get that at all. How so?”
“Because it seems to say that belief in God is a
children’s belief. The author is too polite to come
right out and say ‘childish,’ but it seems comparable
to belief in the tooth fairy—or any belief you grow
out of.”
“Ah, I see. But I don’t think the author is simply being
polite. I suspect she knows the difference between
childhood beliefs and “childish” ones. Aren’t most
of the things we believe as adults things that we
began to believe as children? Why single out belief
in God as uniquely childish? Especially since many
people actually come to acknowledge God’s existence—unlike the tooth fairy’s—only as adults.”
“Okay, when you put it that way, perhaps ‘childish’ is
too strong. But, still, it’s uninformed belief. Doesn’t
the research say that the human brain has evolved in
such a way that, even apart from evidence, it almost
automatically produces the belief that there’s a
God? And without evidence, it’s an unwarranted
belief.”
“Yes, I suppose it is belief without evidence—at
that point. But that makes your tooth fairy analogy
even less accurate, since children believe in a tooth
fairy because of a kind of evidence: mom mentions
the tooth fairy, the tooth disappears, and a quarter
appears in its place.”

“So you found evidence that contradicted your
belief. But until then, you still had reason to believe.”
“Sure, but again, kids believe in God without evidence, so without any good reason. They only do
so because their brains, for some reason, evolved to
make them think that way.”
“I’m not so sure. From what I recall, the evidence
only says that this is how infant brains work. To say
it’s because of evolution is the boilerplate hypothesis for explaining everything these days. But even
if that were the case—no, especially if it were the
case—our brains, as you put it, ‘make us believe’ lots
of things that we don’t simply dismiss as untrue.
Instead, we generally accept them unless and until
we have good reason to reject them. I’d say belief
in God is in this category. If we’re ‘programmed’
to have an innate belief in God, then that belief is
warranted until we have good cause to doubt it.
And, since we debated evolution before, I know
you’ve got some real questions about how adequately it actually accounts for everything.”
“Yes, but…”
“So, just for the sake of argument, what if humans
and their brains didn’t just somehow evolve
un guided, but were actually created by God?
Wouldn’t he want us to believe in him, and why not
‘hardwire’ that basic belief into us? Or, to ask the
question backward, isn’t the apparent ‘hardwiring’
perhaps some sort of evidence that there is a God
who created us and wants us to acknowledge that?”
Maria’s number was called out before she could
press the point further; but she’d already said
enough to make George regret having drawn
attention to the article. He was not only stuck in
the DMV, but now also forced to think once again
about why he remained so resistant to the idea of
God’s existence.

Indeed, quite the opposite. Thus, for example, one renowned cosmologist
and adult convert to Christianity explains that “[i]t was my science that drove
me to the conclusion that the world is much more complicated than can be
explained by science,” and that “[i]t is only through the supernatural that I
can understand the mystery of existence.”212 Another candidly remarks that
a “commonsense interpretation of the facts suggests that a superintellect has
monkeyed with physics, as well as chemistry and biology, and that there are
no blind forces worth speaking about in nature.”213
One example of the manner in which empirical data and logical reasoning might be persuasively presented in supported of God’s existence is that
typically referred to as the Kalam Cosmological Argument.214 Like the cosmological arguments of Aquinas and Gerhard, this has its origins in the Middle
Ages; but it has been supplemented with more recent evidence by its modern
proponents. Concisely stated in syllogistic form, this argument holds that:
Premise 1: Whatever begins to exist has a cause of its existence;
Premise 2: The universe began to exist;
Conclusion: Therefore, the universe has a cause of its existence.
The first premise simply states the axiomatic principles of “sufficient reason” and “causality,” that is, that all effects have causes and that something
cannot be caused by nothing. The second premise simply states the modern
consensus, based upon scientific data, that the universe is not eternal, but had
a beginning in the finite past.215 If both premises are correct, then it follows
that the existence of the universe was caused. As whatever might be posited as
having caused it to come into existence cannot be a part of the universe itself,
it must be recognized as having its own existence outside the universe. That is
to say, it exists outside of space and time, outside of “nature,” and is therefore
by definition super-natural.
Again, this is merely one example from an increasingly broad and deep
body of literature devoted to arguments for the existence of God at least

212
The cosmologist is Allan Sandage, quoted in Sharon Begley, “Science Finds God,” Newsweek (20 July 1998), 46.
213
Fred Hoyle, “The Universe: Past and Present Reflections,” Annual Review of Astronomy and
Astrophysics 20 (1982), 16.
214
So named for the Arabic term kalam, meaning “discourse” or “discussion,” and reflecting
the origins of the argument in medieval Islamic philosophy.
215
This is one of the conclusions of modern science that substantially strengthens the older
cosmological arguments of, e.g., Aquinas. Before the twentieth century there was little reason
to believe, on the basis of natural evidence alone, that the universe came into existence, that its
existence was thus contingent rather than necessary, and that it was therefore an effect requiring a cause. Advances in astronomy during the twentieth century, however, led to the discovery
that the universe is not static, but is expanding. This and related discoveries thus suggested (by
projecting backwards) the now generally accepted conclusion that the universe of space and
time had a beginning in the finite past.

58

59

partially based in the data and methods of modern science.216 Before leaving
the realm of science, however, it is perhaps worth noting one other respect
in which the modern reverence for science might potentially aid Christian
witness. To the extent that the atheist, for example, remains unconvinced by
arguments such as the preceding, and remains committed to the view that no
supernatural entity exists, he or she might be confronted with the implications
which follow from such a “naturalism” (also sometimes called “materialism”
or, increasingly, “physicalism”). It might be observed, for example, that if
nothing exists other than nature—matter and energy—then all that exists
remains strictly subject to the laws of nature. This, in the naturalist view, must
also include human beings themselves. To the extent, then, that humans, being
nothing more than the sum total of their physical and biochemical composition, are therefore governed only by the natural laws of physics, chemistry,
and biology, it becomes impossible to speak in any meaningful or coherent
sense about human free will. It might also be pointed out that this is an implication readily admitted by scientific naturalists.217 The potential benefit of
highlighting this point is evident in the recognition that modern westerners,
however committed to the authority of science, are by no means less committed to, and are even obsessed with, the belief in “choice.” Therefore, just as St.
Paul made the Athenians aware that they could not at the same time embrace
the belief that men have their origins in gods, and that idols originating with
men are gods, so too might the atheistic materialist be confronted with the
contradictory nature of his or her own beliefs.

and the arts rather than in the sciences.219 The previously mentioned professor
of literature and adult convert C.S. Lewis provides one example of such an
individual. He recounts the deep impression made upon him by the off-hand
remark of a colleague (who, ironically, Lewis notes was “the hardest boiled of
all the atheists I ever knew”) commenting upon James Frazer’s famous work
on mythology, The Golden Bough: “All that stuff of Frazer’s about the Dying
God. Rum thing. It almost looks as if it had really happened once.”220 Similarly,
in certain contexts the Christian evangelist might voice wonder about the
possible reason for certain common themes evident, for example, in the myths
and fairy tales of the world’s many cultures. One might wonder what explains
the nearly ubiquitous accounts of a divine creation, a “fall,” and a longing for
paradise, of a great flood, of malevolent “tricksters” and “redeemer” heroes.221
Further, one might wonder not only what accounts for these similar themes
being found across the world’s literature, but also why such themes continue
to resonate with readers, hearers, and viewers.222 The question might be raised,
contemplated, and discussed whether such resonance testifies to certain innate
human longings and desires, which themselves might reflect some innate but
obscured or suppressed knowledge of God and his law. This, for example, is
what Lewis himself suggests when writing, “[i]f I find in myself a desire which
no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I
was made for another world,”223 and, more fully:
A man’s physical hunger does not prove that a man will get any
bread; he may die of starvation on a raft in the Atlantic. But surely
a man’s hunger does prove that he comes from a race which
repairs its body by eating and inhabits a world where eatable
substances exist. In the same way, though I do not believe (I wish
I did) that my desire for Paradise proves that I shall enjoy it, I

The above examples of ways in which one might proceed from certain
“points of contact” with unbelieving contemporaries in attempts to establish
a basic belief in God’s existence are, again, not the only examples possible.218
Moreover, proceeding on the basis of natural evidence and logical reasoning,
and capitalizing on the esteem in which empirical data and the scientific
method are often held, are not the only means by which skeptics might be
induced to contemplate that which, at some level, they already “know.” Thus,
some might be especially engaged by a point of contact located in literature

219
In this context some have thus distinguished between arguments for the “tough-minded”
and the “tender-minded” skeptic. See, e.g., Craig Parton, The Defense Never Rests: A Lawyer’s
Quest for the Gospel (St. Louis: Concordia, 2003), 97–103.

216
For an accessible introduction to such arguments, see, e.g., Lee Strobel, The Case for a Creator
(Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004).
217
E.g., John Searle, Minds, Brains, and Science (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1984),
98, acknowledges that “our conception of reality simply does not allow for radical freedom.”
218
Though beyond the parameters of the present study, what is often called “evidential apologetics” deserves special mention as yet another means by which one might appeal to evidence
and reason in dialogue with the skeptic. Rather than the classical “two-step” approach—first
establishing that a God exists, and then moving on to attempt establishing that the true God is
that of Christianity—the evidential approach appeals immediately to the historical evidence
for Jesus, his claim to be God, and his vindication of this claim by resurrection from death. This
“one-step” approach has, among other benefits, the benefit of keeping the conversation in close
proximity to Christ and the gospel. On this, see, e.g., Gary Habermas, “Evidential Apologetics,”
in Five Views on Apologetics, ed. Steven B. Cowan (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 91–121.

60

2016 Convention Workbook

220
C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (San Diego: Harcourt Brace Javonovich, 1955), 223–24. Though Lewis clarifies a few pages later that the conversion partially
prompted by this conversation “was only to Theism, pure and simple, not to Christianity” (230),
he later comments upon his eventual coming to the Christian faith that, “[t]he real clue had been
put into my hand by that hard-boiled Atheist when he said, ‘Rum thing, all that about the Dying
God. Seems to have really happened once’” (235).
221
On such recurring themes, see, e.g., J.F. Bierlein, Parallel Myths (New York: Ballantine, 1994),
and Lorena Stookey, Thematic Guide to World Mythology (Westport: Greenwood, 2004).
222
Lewis himself offers an answer—impossible to prove, but none the less suggestive—when
he proposes that, “Myth in general is not merely misunderstood history (as Euhemerus thought)
nor diabolical illusion (as some of the Fathers thought) nor priestly lying (as the philosophers of
the Enlightenment thought) but, at its best, a real though unfocused gleam of divine truth falling
on human imagination.” C.S. Lewis, Miracles (London: Fontana, 1960), 138 n.
223

Lewis, Mere Christianity, 136–37.

61