Open Theism and the Test for a Prophet

During my year at Notre Dame's Center for Philosophy of Religion, I'm going to be working on a book-length research project on open theism, a relatively new proposal for understanding divine providence that has gotten a lot of discussion over the last 15 years, especially in philosophy of religion and evangelical theology circles.

Roughly stated, open theism holds that divine providence is neither wholly meticulous (as it is in Calivinism, Thomism, or Molinism) nor wholly general (as it is in process theism). In other words, God has not efficaciously decreed every particular thing that happens (contra Calvinism, etc.) but has efficaciously decreed some particulars (contra process theism).

The current debate about open theism centers on four key issues: (1) its fidelity to Scripture, (2) the significance of its differences from the mainstream theological tradition, (3) its ramifications for religious practice, and (4) its core philosophical presuppositions, esp. creation ex nihilo, creaturely libertarian freedom, and the incompatibility of meticulous providence with creaturely libertarian freedom.

In this post I want to briefly comment on one challenge, nicely posed by philosopher Francis Beckwith in an article entitled "Limited Omniscience and the Test for a Prophet". Beckwith charges that open theism, which he inaccurately supposes to entail the idea that God has "limited omniscience", is incompatible with the Biblical test for prophecy given in Deuteronomy 18:22:

If what a prophet proclaims in the name of the LORD does not take place or come true, that is a message the LORD has not spoken. That prophet has spoken presumptuously. Do not be afraid of him.

Based on this verse, Beckwith develops an argument that runs, in its essentials, thus:

1. Necessarily, if X speaks for God about the future, then X is correct.
2. If open theism is correct, then it is possible that X speak for God about the future and be mistaken.
3. Therefore, open theism is false.
   

This argument is clearly valid (that is, if the premises are both true, then the conclusion must also be true), but not, I think, sound (since it is not the case that both premises are true). The premise that I wish to challenge is the second one.

The rationale for premise (2) runs something like this: Proponents of open theism hold that creaturely free decisions cannot be infallibly known in advance. It is possible that the outcome of a prophecy depends upon creaturely free decisions. Therefore, it is possible that the outcome of a prophecy cannot be infallibly known in advance. Therefore, it is possible that God could inspire a prophet to declare categorically that some future event will happen and that event not happen.

This reasoning overlooks something, however. It overlooks the possibility that there might be some other necessary factor that would prevent God from inspiring any categorical prophecy that he couldn't be infallibly certain about. Plausibly, there is such a factor in God's essential nature, namely, God's concern for his own integrity. If so, then it is consistent with open theism to deny the possibility that a prophet might speak for God about the future and be mistaken on the grounds that, necessarily, if God couldn't be absolutely certain about the prophecy's coming true then he wouldn't have given the prophecy in the first place. With that, premise (2) fails.

All that I'm arguing right now is that the quick knock-down attempted by Beckwith is too quick. There is, of course, a lot more to be said on this issue, and it is not yet fully clear that open theism is consistent with everything the Bible has to say regarding prophecy. Further reflections, however, will have to wait for another time.

Can There Be a Self-Mover? Aquinas on Act and Potency

My family and I are now living in South Bend, Indiana. We survived the move well enough, though unfortunately some of our furniture didn't. (The movers wrecked the baby's crib, broke all four of our floor lamps, and lost a box containing three of wall pictures. Next time we go U-Haul.)

Anyway, my first blog post in a long time concerns Aquinas' distinction between act and potency. More specifically, I'm concerned with Aquinas' claim, central to the first two of his "Five Ways" of proving God's existence, that

(1) Whatever is moved is moved by something else.

If this is right, then there can be no self-movers. In the Summa Contra Gentiles Aquinas presents three arguments for (1). None of these strike me as particularly convincing, but I want to focus for a bit on the third argument, which appeals to the act/potency distinction. Basically, Aquinas argues as follows:

(2) Nothing can be both in act and in potency in the same respect at the same time.
(3) If there were a self-mover, then something would be both in act and in potency in the same respect at the same time.
Therefore,
(4) There cannot be a self-mover.
Therefore,
(1) Whatever is moved is moved by something else.

While I accept the validity of this argument, I am doubtful of its soundness because I find it very hard to come up with interpretations of 'act' and 'potency' that make both (2) and (3) true.

My first thought was that 'act' means actuality and 'potency' possibility, such that for something to be in potency with respect to property F is for it to be possibly F. On that reading, however, premise (2) is false. Since actuality implies possibility, it is perfectly possible - indeed necessary - that if X is actually F at time T then X is possibly F at time T.

My next thought was to make premise (2) true by defining 'potency' as possibly but not actually. The problem is that now (3) is false. To see this imagine a hypothetical situation in which a self-mover M can move either to the left or to the right. Initially, M is in 'potency' (as we have defined it) with respect to both options. That is, both options are possible for M, but neither is at yet actual for M. Now suppose that M moves itself to the left. In that case, M ceases to be in 'potency' with respect to either option and is in 'act' with respect with to going to the left. All this seems perfectly consistent, which falsifies (3). Why? Because the shift from being in 'potency' w.r.t. going to the left and being in 'act' w.r.t. going to the left is diachronic. M is never in 'act' and in 'potency' in the same respect at the same time. This indicates that it is possible for the antecedent of (3) to be true while its consequent is false, which is sufficient to show that (3) is not a necessary truth.

My final thought was to interpret 'act' and 'potency' in a causal sense of active and passive, respectively. This plausibly renders (2) true, though the proponent of self-motion might object that it begs the question. But my main worry again is that (3) is false. Why can't self-motion be understood in terms of acting at T1 so that M's future self is F at T2? Aquinas' argument against self-motion only works if a self-mover would have to be both in 'act' and in 'potency' in the same respect at the same time. But I just don't see why the 'act' / 'potency' relation can't be understood diachronically rather than synchronically. Indeed, shouldn't the very act of self-motion shift the temporal index forward? If so, then (3) is false and with it falls one of Aquinas' arguments in favor of (1).

Blogging to Resume in Mid-August

Some of my readers may be wondering why I haven't posted much lately. It's because for the past month and for the next few weeks to come, my wife and I have been swamped with the details of selling our house in Las Vegas, moving to South Bend, Indiana, and working to finalize the adoption of our daughter, Janelle.

Things are coming together. The movers arrive on 7/22 to get our stuff. Escrow signing and adoption finalization take place on 7/23. On the morning of the 24th, my dad, myself, and the two cats will embark on a long 1800-mile drive to South Bend. We're going to try to make it in two days. Once our stuff is moved in, we'll fly back to Vegas. After saying goodbyes to family and friends, my wife, my daughter, and myself will then be leaving Las Vegas for good on 8/4. We should arrive in South Bend as a family around 8/10.

Recent Discussion of Open Theism and Intelligent Design

Over at Bill Dembski's blog, Uncommon Descent, I recently got into an extended discussion on the relation of intelligent design and open theism (short answer - neither entails anything regarding the other). For those who might be interested, here's the link. (The initial comment on open theism that prompted my reply occurs near the end of the original post.)

More on Trumping: Reply to an Objection

A blogger named Brandon has criticized the argument of my previous post as follows:

What Rhoda calls "Trumping" is in fact simply a tendentious way of saying "correcting one's own reasoning on the basis of authority"; and the Trumper Rhoda particularly has in mind is someone who says that on matters where Scripture speaks plainly and "indubitably opposes our understanding" we should, in fact, correct our own reasoning on the basis of that authority.

Based on this interpretation of my position, Brandon then offers a counterexample:

Suppose that I am reasoning about quantum physics. The argument looks flawless to me. And someone I recognize as an authority on quantum physics hears me out and tells me that my argument, however clever, is wrong, and simply overlooks some key features of quantum physics, or confuses some key features with other things entirely, or what have you. We would normally say that it would be irrational for me not to correct my reasoning light of that authority, unless we had clear, positive reason for doing so -- i.e., clear, positive reason for thinking that either our authority has misunderstood our argument, or has put forward a view that we know to be rejected by many authorities on quantum physics, or some such.

In response, I would simply point out that the claim Brandon thinks I'm making (that one should never "correct one's reasoning on the basis of authority") is not what I argued for. When I called 'Trumping' is the practice of seizing upon some particular authority or claim, one that is not itself a deliverance of human reason or understanding, and refusing to submit that authority or claim to rational critique. In other words, the Trumper has a cherished theory or dogma of which he says, "I don't care where the evidence and the argument may go from here on out, I'm going to stick to my theory no matter what."

Perhaps it will help if I give a couple examples. First, here's a famous quote from Richard Lewontin:

We take the side of science in spite of the patent absurdity of some of its constructs, in spite of its failure to fulfill many of its extravagant promises of health and life, in spite of the tolerance of the scientific community for unsubstantiated just-so stories, because we have a prior commitment, a commitment to materialism. It is not that the methods and institutions of science somehow compel us to accept a material explanation of the phenomenal world, but, on the contrary, that we are forced by our a priori adherence to material causes to create an apparatus of investigation and a set of concepts that produce material explanations, no matter how counter-intuitive, no matter how mystifying to the uninitiated. Moreover, that materialism is absolute, for we cannot allow a Divine Foot in the door.

What Lewontin is saying here, basically, is that for him materialism is a Trump. So long as evidence and argument support materialism he'll consider it. But he refuses to allow any arguments to count against materialism.

Here's another example, one time from David Hume's famous essay on miracles:

There surely never was a greater number of miracles ascribed to one person than those that were recently said to have been performed in France on the tomb of Abbé Paris . . . . The curing of the sick, giving hearing to the deaf and sight to the blind, were everywhere talked of as the usual effects of that holy tomb. But what is more extraordinary is this: many of the miracles were immediately proved on the spot, before judges of unquestioned integrity, attested by witnesses of credit and distinction, at a time when learning flourished and on the most eminent platform in the world. Nor is this all. An account of them was published and dispersed everywhere; and the Jesuits, though a learned body supported by the civil magistrate, and determined enemies to the opinions in whose favour the miracles were said to have been performed, were never able clearly to refute or expose them. Where shall we find such a number of circumstances converging in the corroboration of one fact? And what have we to oppose to such a cloud of witnesses but the absolute impossibility or miraculous nature of the events that they relate?

In the context Hume has been considering the possibility that a miracle might be sufficiently well-attested to justify belief that it had occurred. Here he relates a "best-case scenario" from history. But Hume doesn't want to admit that any miracle could be sufficiently well-attested and so he summarily brushes aside the evidence he has just presented against his position by whipping out a Trump - in this case, his commitment to the "absolute impossibility" of the miraculous.

In summary, I do not deny that authority may correct our thinking. What I reject as a fallacy is the practice of treating an authority or claim as though it were absolutely immune to rational critique.

In addition, it seems to me that Brandon is falsely opposing "authority" and "reason". When I reason, I do on the basis of evidence, of which there different types - empirical, intuitive, and testimonial. An authority is simply a good source of evidence. Thus, in Brandon's example, the physicist is an authority for me because he is, presumably, a very good source of testimonial evidence regarding matters physical. In correcting my thinking he's not giving me evidence over and against my reason. Rather, he's helping me to reason things out more adequately by improving my pool of evidence.

I'll close with a quote from Bill Vallicella:

Someone who plays a trump card is not "correcting his understanding" but seeking to put a stop to inquiry.

Suppose I don't know much about a certain subject-matter and so consult an expert about it. Then it is reasonable for me to accept his authority and "correct my understanding" assuming it needs correcting. And it is unreasonable for me to "argue with" the expert when he is speaking from his expertise. But when I accept the authority of a medical doctor, say, I don't accept the authority on the basis of his mere say-so, but on the basis of the fact that in principle it is possible for me to follow the rational and empirical considerations that ultimately warrant his dictum.

But it is different in the case of one who plays a trump card by, say, pointing to a Bible passage. "Look! Right here it says that Eve was created from a rib of Adam! That settles the question." Well, no it doesn't. For it is reasonable to ask: how is the Bible to be interpreted, and by whom? A Catholic might say: the magisterium decides. But then surely it is reasonable to ask: whence its authority? Inspired by the Holy Spirit? Could be, but how do you know? Are the Eastern Orthodox and the Protestants also sometimes so inspired? Or never? And if never, why not? And so on.

The Theologian's Fallacy

In his contribution to a recent book, Perspectives on the Doctrine of God (Bruce A. Ware, ed.), Paul Helm leads off with an epigraph from Anselm (the exact source is not given):

But if Scripture indubitably opposes our understanding, even though our reasoning appears to us to be impregnable, still it ought not to be believed to be substantiated by any truth at all. It is when Sacred Scripture either clearly affirms or in no way denies it, that it gives support to the authority of any reasoned conclusion.

In other words, what Anselm is saying is that the authority of the Bible always trumps human reason when the two come into conflict. Helm clearly approves of this sentiment, as do many other theologians who want to defend cherished doctrines (in Helm's case, theological determinism) against external critique. My concerns, however, are broader than the question of Biblical authority. I'm interested here in the general practice of appealing to some allegedly absolute authority - whether that be the Bible, the Koran, the Vedas, the Magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church, the Mormon's revelation knowledge (i.e., "burning in the bosom"), or what have you - as a "trump card" for defeating rational objections.

It is my view that this practice, which I will dub the "Theologian's Fallacy", is rationally indefensible. (I give it that name because, in my experience at least, theologians seem to like to whip out these sorts of trump cards with considerable frequency, especially when they feel that what they regard as their intellectual turf is under external challenge from science, philosophy, or even common sense.)

What's wrong with this practice? I'll answer that by addressing some questions to a generic practitioner of this fallacy whom I'll call a "Trumper".

Question #1: Do you place ultimate value on the truth?

The typical Trumper will confidently answer 'yes' to this question. Why? Because the Trumper believes that his favorite Trump (the Bible, the Koran, etc.) is or contains absolute and infallible Truth (with a capital 'T') of a vitally important sort. Moreover, the Trumper is prepared to submit to that Trump over and against, if necessary, the most secure deliverances of human reason. This he takes as evidence of his intellectual humility and sincerity, of his preparedness to sacrifice all for the Truth. Conversely, the Trumper sees external critics of the Trump either as ignorant children who need to be taught or as malicious rebels vainly raging against the admantine Truth with the feeble sticks of human reason.

Question #2: Do you place ultimate value on your Trump?

Again, the typical Trumper will answer with a confident 'yes'. After all, in the Trumper's mind, the Trump is or contains absolute and infallible Truth of a vitally important sort.

Question #3: Is it possible that you could be mistaken about your Trump, concerning its status as a source of absolute and infallible Truth?

At this point the Trumper is caught in a bind. On the one hand, his own aspirations to intellectual humility encourage him to answer with a 'yes'. Human fallibility is too familiar for us to dismiss such possibilities out of hand. On the other hand, the Trumper's preparedness to use his Trump as a Trump, if necessary against even the best that human reason and inquiry can muster, requires him to say 'no'. After all, once a person genuinely admits that it is possible for him to be mistaken about a Trump, it ceases to function for him as a Trump. But how could one honestly answer 'no' to this question without committing the sin of intellectual pride? There is a way - the Trump must be self-authenticating in the highest possible degree, such that its status as Truth is at least as obvious (to those who are sufficiently prepared) than the most secure deliverances of human reason and inquiry. This leads us to our final question:

Question #4: Can you honestly maintain that your Trump is self-authenticating in the highest possible degree?

Unless one's Trump is something on the level of the Cartesian cogito, like a simple conceptual truth (e.g., "All triangles have 3 sides") or a simple introspective report (e.g., "I am in pain right now"), to answer with anything other than a blunt 'no' would seem a breathtaking display of nerve. Furthermore, if one's Trump is self-authenticating in the highest possible degree, then one would expect it should be accessible to human reason and inquiry, just like the cogito and simple conceptual truths are. In that case, of course, it can no longer be used as a Trump over and against human reason and inquiry. Still, some incorrigible Trumpers will have the temerity to answer 'yes' to this question. Such people are, I think, beyond hope of rational engagement. But those who still have a robust sense of reality, of their own finitude and fallibility, will look at their prospective Trump (the Bible, say) and realize that they are not in fact more or even equally confident of its Trump-worthiness than they are certain of the best deliverances of human reason. And if they realize that, then they should realize that they are no longer in a position to use it as a Trump.

In closing, I say to any of my readers who are inclined to commit the Theologian's Fallacy and appeal to the Bible, Koran, Vedas, Book of Mormon, Communist Manifesto, Magic 8-ball, or what have you, as a Trump to defeat external criticisms to your pet theories, knock it off! If you really have the Truth that you think you do, then you can and should be able to meet the criticisms head on without whipping out a Trump card.

Conference Highlights

Just got back from the Open Theology and Science conference held April 10-12, 2008 at Asuza Pacific University.

It was quite a fun conference. My wife and baby daughter accompanied me, and we all had a good time. Baby Janelle was a big hit with the other participants. Unfortunately, one of the presenters, Bill Hasker, was not able to make the conference due to the whole airline grounding fiasco.

The conference opened with a plenary session by Francis Collins, head of the human genome project. He had a lot of good things to say about the integration of religion and science and even closed his talk by whipping out his acoustic guitar and leading the audience (about 300 people) in signing a hymn, "God of Faith and Learning".

I have two points of critique regarding what Collins said. First, he conflates the notion of common descent (for which he gave some rather impressive evidence) with naturalistic evolution, the idea that the historical process of descent that has given rise to the "tree of life" has involved no non-natural causes. The evidence for the latter thesis is scant and much less impressive. Second, his criticism of Intelligent Design invoked the standard “cooption” response to Behe's irreducible complexity argument. What Collins does not seem to realize is that this response in not even close to being a refutation of ID. That the bacterial flagellum “might” have been cobbled together from existing molecular components does not show that such a scenario is even remotely plausible.

The following morning, things got underway with a devotional from local pastor T. Scott Daniels of the Pasadena Nazarene Church (he called it "Paz Naz" for short). His talk was entitled "Waiting for the Church to Open". He told of a homeless woman who, despite the assistance they've tried to give her, always waits outside for the doors of the church to open so. When they do, she partakes of the free coffee and refreshments inside and attends the service. Daniels related this to the position of many open theists, who often feel rather "homeless" in the modern American church scene. Often suspected (wrongly, I submit) of heresy, some have found themselves booted out of or ostracized from the fellowship of other Christians. The analogy certainly resonated with a number of people at the conference, myself included.

I'll spare a detailed recounting of each of the presentations I heard. All of them were interesting, and everyone at the conference was exceeding nice. One thing I particularly enjoyed was the opportunity to hang out with the likes of Robin Collins, Dean Zimmerman, Greg Boyd, and Patrick Todd (a grad student at UC Riverside whom I've interacted with by email but had never met face-to-face).

My own presentation on "The Fourfold Openness of the Future" went quite well. I had a good discussion with the above-mentioned folks, as well as Alan Padgett. I've still got to iron out some kinks in my argument. When I get in polished a bit, I'll post it here.

The final evening all of us involved with the conference went over to Karen Winslow's house (she's an Old Testament scholar at Azusa Pacific) where we ate dinner and hung out discussing things like the problem of evil, the metaphysics of time, and South Park until late in the evening. Sunday morning, my wife and I went to the Winslow's church (Karen's husband, Dale, pastors a Free Methodist church a couple blocks from Azusa Pacific). I had never been to a Free Methodist service before. It was nice. The people there were very friendly.

Open Theology and Science

The next four days I'll be at an "Open Theology and Science" conference at Azusa Pacific University in California.

While there, I'll be reading a paper entitled "The Fourfold Openness of the Future" in which I distinguish between four different ways in which the future may be thought of as "open" - causal, ontic, alethic, and epistemic - and argue that if the future is causally open (i.e., universal determinism is false) then it has to be open in the other three respects as well. If this is right, then the options for theists reduce to two: (1) theological determinism, according to which the future is open in none of those four respects, or (2) a version of open theism according to which the future is open in all of those four respects.

I'll also be participating in a Q&A panel in which I'll be briefly (2-3 minutes) responding to a recent criticism of open theism by Jonathan Kvanvig.

Baby at 3 Months

A couple weeks ago, right around Easter, my daughter Janelle had her first quarter-birthday. Here are four of my favorite pictures. (click to enlarge)

Proud Father	Porcelain Doll
Wide Eyed	Say What?

Notre Dame, Here We Come

A couple weeks ago I was offered a one-year postdoc position at the University of Notre Dame's Center for the Philosophy of Religion. It's a great opportunity that my wife and I are both excited about. While there, I'll be working on a book project. Tentatively entitled "The Openness of the Future and the Openness of God", it's going to be a philosophical defense of open theism. Basically, I'm aiming to do for open theism what Tom Flint, the director of the Center, has done for Molinism, one of open theism's main competitors in the intellectual marketplace of philosophical theology.