Friday, September 21, 2012

SMPT 2012 “What’s Ragged Should Be Left Ragged”: God’s Problem of Evil

“What’s Ragged Should Be Left Ragged”:
God’s Problem of Evil
Loyd Ericson
SMPT 2012


In his book The Problem of Evil and the Problem of God, D.Z. Phillips argues that the problem of evil, as traditionally conceived by philosophers, critics, and apologists of religion, is dependent upon conceptually and grammatically incoherent notions of God’s omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence; and that Christian apologists such as Alvin Plantinga, Stephen Davis, and others, while attempting to answer the problem, fail to recognize these conceptual mistakes and ultimately attempt to devise theodicies and defenses that strip away the complexities and puzzles of life that are an inherent part of what it means to be human.

In this paper, I will briefly highlight a few of the key points in Phillips’s argument and then compare those to theodicies put forth by Latter-day Saint thinkers such as David Paulsen, Blake Ostler, Truman Madsen, and Eugene England. Utilizing Phillips’s analysis of the problem of evil, I argue that from a Mormon theological perspective, the logical problem of evil is also a result of confused attributes being forced onto our conceptions of God, and that at the heart of the problem is not a question of the logical compatibility of the existence of God as defined by the traditional attributes, but is instead one of the primal existential questions of human life: “why this suffering?”—a question that afflicts both theist and atheist alike. However, because both Christian and LDS theodicists maintain the traditional attributes of God (or variations of them) premised in the problem of evil, the theodicies they propose do further damage by proposing a foreign world and life where all suffering and evils are ultimately explainable .

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

An overly long response to Dan Peterson


Last week, at the annual conference for the Foundationfor Apologetic Information & Research, Daniel Peterson had the opportunity to provide insightful commentary on the intersection of apologetics and the growing field of Mormon studies (MS) with his presentation "Of 'MormonStudies' and Apologetics." However, instead of adding significant to the discussion, Peterson chose to blow the opportunity and instead use his presentation as an arena for him to make jabs at persons he particularly dislikes at the moment.

Sitting in the back on the last row of the conference room, I was surprised to find myself a target of Peterson, where he repeatedly misrepresented my positions and arguments, accused me of things I had never said, and plagiarized portions of my own writings. I have no desire to address Petersons theses ("Why I dislike Gerald Bradford and Loyd Ericson, and here are scriptures that I believe defend my polemical apologetics"), I would like to address Peterson's use of me in his presentation.

This is responding to the original online version of his presentation, which can be found here.

Misrepresentations:

Peterson's first quotation from me:
"One enthusiastic proponent of Mormon studies has pointed out what should be obvious, given the general nature of the broader field of religious studies, that 'those engaged in Mormon studies do not necessarily have to be Mormon themselves.'"
Here, Peterson pulls a line from me without context to give the impression that I (or a generic enthusiastic MS proponent) were attempting to make a profound point that would be obvious to any real scholar of religious studies--implying that I am a neophyte in religious studies unaware of "what should be obvious" to real religous studies scholars like Peterson (who proudly follows his quotation of me with "Let me say right away that I believe there is a place for such studies.  I, myself, in my writing on Islam, work from within a similar methodology").

To understand that Peterson is misrepresenting me here and elsewhere, I want to first explain my essay that Peterson repeatedly quotes and lifts from. Peterson is quoting from my introductory essay for the inauguratory volume of the Claremont Journal of Mormon Studies, entitled "Where Is the 'Mormon' in Mormon Studies?" This is based on a presentation I gave at a conference at Claremont Graduate University that I conceived of organized in 2010: "What Is Mormon Studies? Transdisciplinary Inquiries into an Emerging Field." Speakers included both Mormons and non-Mormons from various fields and disciplines--including history, philosophy, sociology, CES, religous studies, biblical studies, feminist studies, literature, and publishing--and offered various perspectives that provided lively and thought-provoking discussion on many issues surrounding MS, including whether or not MS existed at all. (It is because of conferences like these that many involved with MS were uninspired by the pontifications of Peterson's friend Bill Hamblin, which not only offers nothing new, but seems oblivious to the work being done in MS, and which is quoted mulitple times by Peterson in his presentation. And I would also add that it is telling that the only two persons I have witnessed make the critical arguments that Hamblin makes are he and Daymon Smith--both of which have clearly percieve themselves as being rejected or not embraced by many actively engaged in MS.)
My presentation at this conference (and the introductory essay of the CJMS issue) was written as a sort of preface to the conference (and journal), exploring the question of how the word "Mormon" was being used to describe MS. (The subtitle of my presentation pointed out three possible variations "Subject, Method, Object.") I begin by saying: "When we say that we are doing Mormon Studies, what  do we mean? Is this 'Mormon' descriptive or even prescriptive of the subject—the doer? Is there a type of methodology that is particular to Mormon Studies—the doing? Or is this descriptive of the object that is being studied—the done?" (p. 6; emphasis in original).  Thus, my presentation began with a discussion of those persons doing Mormon studies and challenges related to who is doing it. Here are two full sentences, from which Peterson pulls my quotation out of context:
Concerning the subject doing Mormon Studies, it seems clear already that those engaged in Mormon studies do not necessarily have to be a Mormon themselves. For example, our keynote speaker for our conference was Jan Shipps, a non-Mormon scholar who has been writing on Mormon history and culture for nearly half a century—longer than most Mormon-Mormon Studies scholars today. (p. 6; emphasis added)
Far from how Peterson portrays me—as a naive MS enthusiast mistakenly believing that I was pointing out something of interest—I was merely noting this fact for the point I actually wanted to make: that because of the contentious nature of studying religion, the Mormon/non-Mormon background of those doing MS inevitably changes the way in which their work is perceived and utilized. I write:
However, because of the challenging nature of academically studying religion, whether or not the person doing Mormon Studies is Mormon (and how she understands her relationship to Mormonism) is nevertheless a defining factor in what it means for them to be doing Mormon Studies, regardless of the quality of her work. (p. 6)
I then proceed look at a spectrum of perceptions that are cast on those engaged in MS, from suspicion and praise for Mormons doing MS by non-believers to suspicion and praise for non-Mormons by believers.


This brings us to the next misrepresentation of me by Peterson:

Loyd Ericson, a proponent of Mormon studies who has been vocally overjoyed at recent changes—both of direction and of personnel—at the Maxwell Institute, suggested that some people might need to be excluded from the field of Mormon studies.  We’re “force[d] . . . to ask the questions,” he wrote, “of who should be allowed to participate, how should it be done, and what should be the objects of these studies. Should boundaries of exclusion be drawn?  Or should all—including the evangelizing, the apologists, the revisionists, and the anti-Mormons—be allowed to mingle in the broadest field of Mormon Studies?” (emphasis added)
First of all, I am not “overjoyed” with the new direction of the MI. “Pleased” is perhaps a better way to put it.

Second, I am not arguing that “some people might need to be excluded from the field of Mormon studies,” as Peterson claims.

Here is the paragraph Peterson quotes from in its entirety:
In this inaugural issue of the Claremont Journal of Mormon Studies, we leave the questions of what Mormon Studies is and where the “Mormon” is located largely untouched. Instead, the aim of this journal is to make available the best and most innovative work by graduate students in Mormon Studies—whatever that may be. Nevertheless, the place that “Mormon” plays in Mormon Studies is an inevitable question as submissions are discussed in this journal and most other Mormon Studies conferences, events, lectures, classes, and publications. Its role in various places perhaps forces us to ask the questions of who should be allowed to participate, how should it be done, and what should be the objects of these studies. Should boundaries of exclusion be drawn? Or should all—including the evangelizing, the apologists, the revisionists, and the anti-Mormons—be allowed to mingle in the broadest field of Mormon Studies? (p. 12-13; emphasis added)
It is important to understand here that this is one of the concluding paragraphs in my essay, following a lengthy look at questions and arguments being made in the larger question of what constitutes MS. Not only am I not attempting to answer these questions, I make it explicit that I make no claims on them. To the contrary to Peterson’s implication, I personally argue for an inclusive understanding of MS that is self-defined by the very doing of it (see the last paragraph of my CJMS essay).

While Peterson may attempt to counter that he was non-maliciously merely pointing out that I raise the possibility of such exclusion by acknowledging the various opinions on the matter, the intent of his phrasing should be clear. By such logic I could claim that by pointing out that some Christians wish to exclude Mormons from being called Christian, Peterson “suggested that Mormons might not be Christian.” His rhetorical ploy should be clear.

After taking my concluding paragraphs out of context, Peterson then moves five pages back to the third paragraph of my essay, giving the impression that, instead of leaving the previous questions unanswered, I am answering those questions. He writes:
Of “the Mormon apologists”—who, he wrote under quite different circumstances back in 2011, are “easily best represented by Daniel Peterson and his colleagues in the Maxwell Institute at Brigham Young University”—Ericson cautions that “While they may at least seem to work within academic standards, there still exists an uneasiness among many about including them into Mormon Studies because of the belief of many academics that Mormon and/or religious studies is a forum for studying, and not promoting or defending, religious beliefs.”
This is taken from my six broad categories of persons doing MS (or the “subjects” that I mentioned at the beginning of my essay), where I attempt to distinguish those like Robert Millett, whose work is primarily theological and pastoral, and almost wholly dependent on testimonial faith claims, from those at the former Maxwell Institute whose work was far more academic, but done to build and defend faith claims:
The second group of subjects is made up of the Mormon apologists. Like the previous group, apologists also make statements of faith explicit in their work. However, unlike the pastoral Mormons, the apologists’ goal is to not just state their faith, but to defend or prove the truth claims of that faith, all the while attempting to do so within parameters of strict academic scholarship. This group is easily best represented by Daniel Peterson and his colleagues in the Maxwell Institute at Brigham Young University. As the Maxwell Institute’s mission statement puts it, their primary mission includes “Describ[ing] and defend[ing] the Restoration through highest quality scholarship” and “Provid[ing] an anchor of faith in a sea of LDS Studies.” While they may at least seem to work within academic standards, there still exists an uneasiness among many about including them into Mormon Studies because of the belief of many academics that Mormon and/or religious studies is a forum for studying, and not promoting or defending, religious beliefs. (p. 7; emphasis added)
Peterson then makes an egregious misrepresentation by jumping ahead three pages, and pulling a quotation out of context to make it seem that I am addressing apologists:
Ericson allowed, hypothetically, that there might be a “uniquely Mormon methodology” that one could employ in Mormon studies.  “This methodology,” he says, “would include a faith or religiously based testimonial as part of one’s argument or discussion. Examples of this might include appealing to one’s own spiritual confirmation of the historical reality of Joseph Smith’s First Vision when discussing the beginnings of Mormonism, basing an understanding of the context of the Book of Mormon off of one’s belief in its ancient origins, or the claim that the growth of the LDS Church is due to the Holy Spirit influencing others to convert to God’s true church.”
Building off of his misrepresentation of me, he continues:
His statement is fascinating.  Notice how it equates “appealing to one’s own spiritual confirmation of the historical reality of Joseph Smith’s First Vision when discussing the beginnings of Mormonism” and “claim[ing] that the growth of the LDS Church is due to the Holy Spirit” with “basing an understanding of the context of the Book of Mormon off of one’s belief in its ancient origins.”  All of these are subsumed under the notion of “includ[ing] a faith or religiously based testimonial as part of one’s argument or discussion.” 
One’s personal spiritual experiences would never constitute appropriate or acceptable evidence in an academic argument, however appropriate they surely are in church, and FARMS and Maxwell Institute authors have never appealed to them in that way.  Nor would it be suitable to claim, in a purely secular academic argument, that the Holy Spirit is the cause of any religious trend or event.  Methodological naturalism reigns supreme in the general academic world, and for good reason. (Emphasis added).
My claims are only fascinating because Peterson had completely misrepresented them.

Here, Peterson is quoting from an entirely different section of my essay, where I am not necessarily discussing apologists (or any subject in particular), but am rather posing the question of whether there can be a method that could be considered uniquely Mormon. I begin this question beginning with a response to Alvin Plantinga’s “Advice to Christian Philosophers” by DZ Phillips:
In response, D.Z. Phillips, in his “Advice to Philosophers who are Christians,” countered by saying, “in elucidating the surroundings in which belief in God is held fast, the philosopher is not doing something called Christian philosophy. He is simply doing philosophy.” For Plantinga, Christian philosophy is a type of philosophical inquiry which holds a priori certain Christian beliefs. For Phillips it is nonsense to talk of a unique Christian philosophy; rather, there is just philosophy. Anything beyond that, such as “Christian philosophy,” is simply descriptive of Christians using philosophical methodology to explore or argue about Christian beliefs. (p.9)
I continue:
Like Plantinga we may want to talk of doing Mormon history, Mormon philosophy, Mormon sociology, Mormon anthropology, Mormon cultural studies, and so on. However, in doing so are we saying that there is a uniquely Mormon way of doing these things? Or are we just doing history, philosophy, sociology, anthropology, cultural studies, etc.? (p. 10; emphasis in original)
It is here that I hypothesize what a uniquely Mormon method might be if there were to be one:
There still seems to be a uniquely Mormon methodology that one could use in Mormon Studies—though whether or not it ought to be included (or ought to be excluded) is a question still to be explored. This methodology would include a faith or religiously based testimonial as part of one’s argument or discussion. . . . [B]ecause testimonials may have a tendency to hinder, rather than encourage, discussion, both pastoral and anti-Mormons have largely been excluded from Mormon Studies events. (p.10; emphasis in original)
Contrary to Peterson’s implying that I was talking about apologetics, this last sentence makes it clear that I was referring to those I labeled pastoral Mormons and anti-Mormons, whose testimonial claims are often reason for exclusion. Far from making some fascinating claim that Peterson has to point out “would never constitute appropriate or acceptable evidence in an academic argument,” I explicitly and repeatedly point out that such a methodology is generally used as grounds for exclusion from religious studies. In fact I spend the next few paragraphs discussing why that is the case, problems that arise from it, and the infamous [bracketing] of religious beliefs that many in religious studies have adopted. However, and I still argue for this, that those who approach Mormonism from a purely faith/testimonial approach be allowed to participate when they “are invited as such, and not regardless of. For example, an LDS General Authority may be invited to speak with the understanding that he is speaking as a denominational representative, and not as a scholar” (p. 10).

Regardless of whether or not they are involved, I never—as Peterson “fascinatingly” implies I do—claim that a testimony would “constitute appropriate or acceptable evidence in an academic argument.”

I should note though, that Peterson’s claim that “FARMS and Maxwell Institute authors have never appealed to them in that way” is simply false. Take, for example, this footnote from S. Kent Brown’s “The Temple in Luke and Acts” in the feschrift for Truman Madsen, edited by Peterson:
Virtually all studies on the New Testament Gospels conclude that the Gospel accounts were written anonymously and that the names of authors were attached only later. Moreover, most scholars now conclude that each of the Gospels was produced by the efforts of more than one person—in effect, by schools. As for myself, I accept the traditional ascription of Luke's Gospel and the book of Acts to Paul's companion, Luke the Physician.
If I cared to take the time I could point out dozens of instances, where folks at the FARMS/MI have appealed to ultimately faith-based dependencies (primarily on the Book of Mormon and LDS scripture) as a basis for rejecting scholarly consensus on things such as Mosaic authorship of the Torah, Second Isaiah, New Testament authorship, biblical criticism in general, etc.

**************************

Having misrepresented my CJMS essay, Peterson then goes on to misrepresent something else I had written. He writes:
In an online exchange with me back in 2010, Loyd Ericson argued that any apologetic effort attempting to defend the antiquity of the Book of Mormon, the Book of Moses, and the Book of Abraham inescapably makes faulty assumptions about the verifiability of those texts. Why? Because the versions of these scriptures that we have today are in English and date from the nineteenth century, and because we do not possess (and, hence, cannot examine) the putative original-language texts from which they are claimed to have been translated. Accordingly, he said, they cannot plausibly be read, used, tested, or analyzed as ancient historical documents. They can only be read as documents of the nineteenth century, as illustrations of, and in the light of, that period. This, he claimed, is an insurmountable problem.
First of all, what Peterson is alluding to here is not from a conversation I had with him, but with one that I had with my friend bhodges (who I believe actually more-or-less agrees with me now) wherein I linked to a term paper thatI had written while at Claremont for Richard Bushman. Peterson incorrectly claims that I argue that simply because the original gold-plates text of the Book of Mormon is unavailable, we cannot plausibly read, use, test, or analyze them as ancient historical documents.

Once again, Peterson establishes a straw man to publicly contend with instead of presenting my actual argument. I never say that LDS scripture cannot be read as ancient historical documents simply because the original texts are unexaminable. To the contrary, I am actually making an apologetic claim against criticisms of anachronisms in the Book of Mormon that assume a formal understanding of translation. My criticism against the FARMS-style apologetic approach is that by attempting to prove the chronosity (doubt that’s a real word) of the Book of Mormon they uphold faulty assumptions about the Book of Mormon as a translation. Both the critic and the FARMS apologist are guilty. The critic points to the Book of Mormon and says “If this were a real translation of an ancient text, then why is X in the Book of Mormon.” The FARMS apologist responds by pointing to something in the Mesoamerica, and says “X is a translation of this.” (John Sorenson performedthis repeatedly in his FAIR presentation). My criticism is that both hold an unnecessary understanding of “translation” in doing so. Both assume they really know what X is referring to. The problem is not simply one of not having access to the original text (which is a problem even when dealing with particularities of a transmitted text that is not translated)—I wholeheartedly agree that translated documents as a whole can be “read, used, tested, or analyzed as ancient historical documents.” My contention is that unlike the list of texts Peterson points to in his FARMS Review response to me, with the Book of Mormon we have nothing that gives us any sense of how to understand the Book of Mormon as an untranslated text—despite what the FARMS apologist may want to argue, we have no certain knowledge of Mormon’s culture, language, and geography. While Nephi may have come from Jerusalem, Mormon’s language and culture a thousand years later would have changed dramatically—especially if they were a minor population mixed into a much large group as the DNA apologists wish to argue. The only sources for this are the Book of Mormon’s own description—which beg the question of its sense of being a translation and Joseph Smith’s few purported claims, which are largely discounted by the FARMS apologists (location of Cumorah, comments about Lamanites, Zelph, etc). Furthermore, the Book of Mormon’s “translation” is wholly different than any other sense of “translation.” I write:
The translation process for these scriptures is clearly something completely different from a traditional translation of texts from one language to another. With the latter, the process involves at least two things: an original text which is directly used as a source and a translation key or knowledge of two languages the language of the original text and the language of the translation. . . .The problem with calling the Mormon scriptures “translations” is that the process from which the English texts came forth did not include these two requirements. For at least the Book of Mormon and Book of Moses (and possibly the Book of Abraham), Joseph Smith did not directly use or (even have) the original texts. . . . Furthermore, not only did Smith not use the original texts, he did not have the linguistic skills or tools which are used in any standard translation. . . . Without either working with original texts or standard translation practices, these Mormon scriptures are perhaps better understood as revelations and not translations. (p. 6-7)
Thus, I conclude:
while the apologists for Mormon scripture may claim that they are not trying to “prove” the truthfulness of the scriptures, their very approaches to these texts are based on an assumption that the historical, and thus divine, authenticity of the texts must be supportable by means of empirical verification. This assumption is problematic due to the revelatory nature of the texts, which may not reflect any verifiable history in themselves other than the nineteenth-century context in which they came forth. By imposing their apologetic assumptions on the text, the apologists are ultimately guilty of friendly fire by creating unnecessary expectations for the scriptures, confusing their religious truthfulness for historical authenticity, and displacing that religious truthfulness with that which is not spiritual. (p. 10-11)
Peterson next attributes the following to me:
A few members of the church appear to reject apologetics in principle, regarding it as inevitably, no matter how charitably and competently it is done, more detrimental than beneficial.  They seem to do so on the basis of something resembling fideism, the view that faith is independent of reason, and even that reason and faith are incompatible with each other.  “The words reasoning and evidence trouble me,” Loyd Ericson said to me during our Internet discussion. They seem, he said, to imply that things like Hebraisms and the NHM inscription will validate my commitment to Mormonism. This is absolutely and patently untrue and false. Reasoning and so-called evidences are illusions, in a world that requires faith. There is no rationale for angels, gold plates, and a corporeal Divine visit(s). There is no rationale for a resurrection, atonement, or exaltation. These things defy reason and logic. There is no possible evidence for these things either. My faith, my redemption, my happiness/peace are the reasons and evidence for my devotion.
The problem with this is that not only was this not a discussion I had with Peterson,it was said in a discussion involving someone who is not me with someone who isnot Peterson and offers a position that I do not wholly share.

Building off his eager misrepresentations and false claims about me, Peterson boldly announced to the gleeful crowd of apologists:
“Furthermore, in my judgment, Loyd Ericson is simply wrong. There is, in fact, a rational case to be made for such propositions as the actual existence of the gold plates of the Book of Mormon and the resurrection of Christ.”
Besides the fact that, “in my judgement,” Peterson is wrong about most of what he has said about me, his claim that there is “a rational case to be made” about these things begs me to ask, “So?” If we ignore Peterson’s strawman of fideism (which even the actual author of the above quotation now disregards), what pride is there in saying that a rational argument case can be made? My nephew can make a rational case for the existence of Santa. Dan Vogel can make a rational case for the non-existence of the plates. I have made what could be seen as arational argument for the historicity of the Book of Mormon. But even if those things were proven, I again ask, “So?”What if it can be proven that Joseph had the plates before they were taken by an angel, or that Jesus rose from the tomb? Does that prove the divinity of Joseph’s calling, the truthfulness of the Church, the “correctness” of the “translation,” the love of God, anything about the atonement, about resurrection of humanity (or of even Jesus)?

***********************

Finally, despite Peterson’s attempt to castigate me as an enemy in front of his friends at the conference, I’m quite honored (but not really) that he lifted several of my own sources from my CJMS essay for his presentation, including some minor plagiarism surrounding one of the quotes.
In my CJMS essay, I quoted Alvin Plantinga:
In his essay “Advice to Christian Philosophers,” Alvin Plantinga argued that “we who are Christians and propose to be philosophers must not rest content with being philosophers who happen, incidentally, to be Christians; we must strive to be Christian philosophers.” (p. 9; emphasis added)
Peterson this quote and its surrounding text word-for-word, inserting a brief description of Plantinga in the middle:
In his essay “Advice to Christian Philosophers,” Alvin Plantinga of the University of Notre Dame, indisputably among the preeminent Christian philosophers of our time, argued that “we who are Christians and propose to be philosophers must not rest content with being philosophers who happen, incidentally, to be Christians; we must strive to be Christian philosophers.” (emphasis added; his additional words in bold)
It’s not much, but had he been a student of mine, I would have given the “Well, this is technically plagiarism, rewrite this part” talk.

His quotation a few lines down from the former MI statement is from me (which he at least correctly attributed).

And his “A couple of almost randomly chosen religious studies programs” really aren’t that random at all, since he used the UNC-Chapel Hill statement after seeing it on my essay (11).

There could be more, but I’ve already wasted too much time on this response.

Monday, July 16, 2012

And now for something completely different - My SMPT proposal


II'm never sure if it is okay to post these, but here it is anyways. My proposal for September's SMPT conference at Tah State.

“What’s Ragged Should Be Left Ragged”:
God’s Problem of Evil
Loyd Ericson
SMPT Proposal 2012

Latter-day Saint philosophical and theological responses--or defenses and theodices--to the problem of evil generally take a two-prong approach. The first is an affirmation of the language traditionally used to describe God that are evoked in the problem of evil (omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence), while simultaneously affirming a different understanding of these attributes. Thus, God is still all-powerful, but nevertheless limited by logical restraints, human free-will and certain natural forces and laws; God is still all-knowing, but His knowledge is limited by the undetermined future resulting from libertarian freedoms. And God is all-loving in His desire to prevent evil and suffering, but tempers those desires in order to achieve ultimate greater goods for humanity.
The second is to appeal to these newly-defined attributes, along with LDS beliefs about the uncreated nature of matter, pre-existent human spirits, and eternal progression to conclude that the Mormon understanding of God (or at least how these LDS thinkers understand God) is able to side-step and avoid the problem of evil. Thus, while affirming God’s power, knowledge, and love and the reality of suffering and evils, they conclude that all four of these claims can harmoniously exist within Mormon theology without any unnecessary, purposeless, and meaningless suffering.
Utilizing DZ Phillips’s analysis of the problem of evil, this presentation will argue that the very logical problem of evil itself is a result of vacuous metaphysical assumptions being forced onto our conceptions of God, and that at the heart of the problem is not a question of the logical compatibility of the existence of God as defined by the traditional attributes, but is instead one of the primal existential questions of human life: why this suffering?—a question that afflicts both theist and atheist alike.
In his book The Problem of Evil and the Problem of God, Phillips contends that the problem of evil, as traditionally conceived by philosophers, critics, and apologists of religion, is dependent upon conceptually and grammatically incoherent notions of omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence--that is, it makes no sense to say that anything, including God, is all powerful, all knowing, or all good, as the concepts themselves have little sense. He argues that Christian apologists such as Alvin Plantinga, Stephen Davis, Richard Swineburne, and John Hick in attempting to answer the conceptually flawed problem fail to recognize these conceptual flaws, are unable to even succeed in solving the problem if it is taken at face value, and ultimately attempt to devise theodicies and defences that strip away the complexities and puzzles of life that are an inherent part of what it means to be human.
By attempting to meet the metaphysical assumptions imposed on God, these thinkers seek to provide God’s answer to the problem of evil in such a way that the primal question is satisfied—that is, they provide and answer to why this suffering? In doing so, suffering and evil in the presence of God’s existence are explained through a system of checks and balances where each are either purposeful pains utilized for a greater good (example: X develops moral character), unfortunate but necessary results of goods (X is a result of the great good of free-will), or compensated or overshadowed in the eschaton (X will be seen as “worth it” or seem to be “not that big of a deal” in heaven). According to Phillips, “theodicies make the mistake of thinking that . . . what is needed is some kind of super-explanation [of suffering]. . . . If the transcendent divine plan refers to a future state of affairs after death, continuous, in some sense, with this life, which is supposed to justify or redeem its tribulations, it is difficult to see why this future life should not be as puzzling as our present one.”[1]
For Phillips, living in the face of unexplainable suffering, where there is no reason why one is stricken and another is not, undergirds our very conception and grammar of life. To talk of life without this is to be confused about what is meant by human life and experience. Thus, for the theodicists to point to heaven or an afterlife as a resolution to this struggle, is to misuse the very language of life. Rather than attempting to put forth a system that explains suffering, Phillips, appeals to Ludwig Wittgenstein’s criticism of forcing philosophy into non-philosophical matters, “what’s ragged should be left ragged.”[2]
LDS philosophers and theologians who have attempted to provide a Mormon response to the problem of evil are due the same criticism that Phillips offers his fellow Christian thinkers. They too attempt to answer to the conceptually confused demands of the philosopher’s problem of evil. And in doing so, they attempt to construct a theology where all suffering is ultimately accounted for and appeal to an eschaton where “all things will be made right.” Thus, like almost any reader who has difficulty accepting Alma’s theodicy to Amulek—where God stays his power so that the suffering victims can witness in heaven against their tormentors, and where that suffering is rendered insignificant in the eschaton of God’s glory (Alma 14:11)—we must avoid the temptation to answer the existential question “Why this suffering?” with an explanation.
However, there is a point in which Phillips and LDS theology must diverge, while maintaining Phillips’s demands for conceptual clarity and faithfulness to the way of life. For Phillips, a primary reason why an appeal to the afterlife cannot be used to answer the problem of evil is because, for him, talk of a life after death is conceptually nonsensical. This is because, according to Phillips, those things that give sense to our concept of life—particularly relationships—do not exist in the next life. In other words, if I am no longer a husband, son, brother, father, friend, uncle, etc., what does it mean to say that I continue to exist, when my very understanding of my self is parasitic upon those relationships. Similarly, he argues, in what sense can the theodicist talk of God’s moral character when God lacks the very things that give sense to us talking about each other having moral character—bodies, emotions, relationships, and the ability to suffer.
However, far from “solving” the problem of evil and providing an answer to the suffering, what the anthropomorphic understanding of God and the afterlife reveal is that the problem of evil is as eternal as eternal life. Whereas LDS theodicists, like their Christian compatriots, want to argue that in the end all will be revealed and that God knows the answer to “why this suffering?” what LDS scripture and theology shows is that what will be revealed in the eschaton is that the problems and questions will still remain. The problem of evil is not just a problem for mortal man, but is God’s problem as well. Thus when Enoch asks God, “How is it thou canst weep?” God doesn’t reply with a theodicy or explanation to suffering. Rather he simply points to the evils of the existence and replies “Wherefore should not the heavens weep, seeing these shall suffer?”—or, how could I not weep? God’s response to “why this suffering?” isn’t an answer, but is anger and weeping.
Eternal life can be called life because the world of suffering and contingencies are ever present. Mormon theology does not offer a solution to the logical problem of evil, but rather points out that their isn’t supposed to be one—that it doesn’t make sense to have one, and that if there was somehow a solution, it would dissolve our very existence by making us no longer us. It begs us to “leave ragged what should be ragged.”


[1] PEPG, 131-32.
[2] C&V, 45.

Holy Crap! (Corrected Bloomberg Cover)

My last post on this:


Friday, July 13, 2012

Holy Crap (hallelujah)

 

And for those who want to scoff at the notion that the Church is putting this "Hallelujah!" into the Prophet's mouth--who want to pretend that this church-owned multi-billion dollar mall is just a necessary evil needed to bless the lives of the saints--observe this hallelujah from today's Prophet:

 

 

"1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . Let's go shopping!" This is not the prayer for needy (spiritual or temporal or both), but the true order of prayer at the altar of Mammon, the God of Tiffany's and Coach.

Holy Crap! (pun intended) This Church Owns a Mall! (and why the Bloomberg cover gets it just right)




Much hullabaloo has been made of Bloomberg Businessweek's recent article and cover about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints' multi-billion dollar mall, corporate holdings, zillion dollar stock portfolio, and overall involvement with mammon. Much of it has come to nitpicking about how much it has actually donated to humanitarian aid or how much wealth the Church actual has (a figure that nobody knows and must take on faith because of the Church's failure to follow its own revelations on the matter--it's to help us build faith, right?).

And lost in all of this nitpicking and fact checking is the glaring point and genesis of the article itself, and that point is: HOLY CRAP! THIS CHURCH BUILT AND OWNS A MULTI-BILLION DOLLAR MALL AND HAS ZILLIONS OF DOLLARS INVESTED IN ITS STOCK PORTFOLIOS!

That point can't be emphasized enough. It's a big point. All of the facts and figures and nitpicking and humanitarian aid and tithing and temples and church buildings and manuals and missionaries can't hide from that point.

And so while picking the nits and helping someone get a job at DI or sewing garments or buying a Deseret book, you just have to step back and think about that: A church (forget about who for the moment) built a mall, and not just any mall, but a multi-billion dollar mall with a Tiffany's, retractable glass roof, genetically engineered fish, and a six-figure water fountain that puts Las Vegas to shame. It's a pretty big point.

And it is because of a failure to reflect on that point--that a church owns a multi-billion dollar mall and has zillions invested in its stock portfolios-- that leads to people wanting to declare the article a hit-piece, or accuse the cover designer of having some anti-Mormon sinister motive (Just for a moment and look at all of the Bloomberg Businessweek's covers--that is their style).

Even more so, by not recognizing this point and what it really means, they fail to see how right that cover is.

Take, for example, Alan Hurst at Peculiar People, where he refers to Businessweek's "sacrilegious cover art." The irony of this statement is that he titled his own post with the very cover he is condemning. What do I mean by this?, well if the cover is sacrilegious, then the very apologetic that Hurst and others, particularly the Mormon Newsroom, use to defend the Church's mall and corporate enterprise is sacrilegious as well. His title "Everything is spiritual" is the very supposedly sacrilegious image and claim that the cover depicts.

This is especially clear in the Mormon Newsroom's response to the article, wherein the glaring POINT is never mentioned and instead the Newsroom (the voice of the Church) defends the unmentionable point by repeatedly referring to the Church spiritual/religious historical narrative. Note the second sentence of the Newsroom's reply: "From the very beginning, members of the Church displayed a remarkable ability to set aside material things for spiritual goals." This is crucial to understanding the Bloomberg article and why the magazines cover is absolutely spot on. When someone asks why it is that a church owns a multi-billion dollar mall and has a zillion dollar stock portfolio, the Church's response is "this has been our religious/spiritual narrative from the beginning," or as Hurst puts it "everything is spiritual." It is the Church that implicitly pushed this POINT back onto Joseph Smith. It is the Church and those critical of the article that want to say that the priesthood restoration--the moment that marks the beginning of the Church in the Church's historical narrative--and Church's owning of a mall are one and the same.

You can't argue that the Church's building of a multi-billion dollar mall and its spiritual/religious roles are one and the same, and then complain when Bloomberg creates a cover depicting that very argument.

If the cover is sacrilegious, then the Church's defense of pointing to its spiritual/religious history ("from the very beginning") is sacrilegious. If the image of John the Baptist commanding the building of a mall at the LDS Church's foundational moment (the beginning of its divine authority) seems utterly absurd, then it is because pointing to that religious history as justification of a multi-billion dollar mall is just that.



If the cover is sacrilegious, then they very apologetic that you and the Mormon Newsroom uses to defend the Church's mall and corporate enterprise is sacrilegious as well.

Note the second sentence of the Newsroom's reply: "From the very beginning, members of the Church displayed a remarkable ability to set aside material things for spiritual goals." This is crucial to understanding the Bloomberg article and why the magazines cover is absolutely spot on. When someone asks why it is that a church owns a multi-billion dollar mall and has a zillion dollar stock portfolio, the Church's response is "this has been our religious/spiritual narrative from the beginning." It is the Church (and you in this Patheos article) that implicitly brings this back to Joseph Smith. It is the Church and you ("everything is spiritual") that wants to say that the priesthood restoration--the moment that marks the beginning of the Church in the Church's historical narrative--and its owning a mall are one and the same.

You can't argue that the Church's building of a multi-billion dollar mall and its spiritual/religious roles are one and the same, and then complain when Bloomberg creates a cover depicting that very argument.

If the cover is sacrilegious, then your and the Church's pointing to its spiritual/religious history ("from the very beginning") is sacrilegious. If the image of John the Baptist commanding the building of a mall at the LDS Church's foundational moment (the beginning of its divine authority) seems utterly absurd, then it is because pointing to that religious history as justification of a multi-billion dollar mall is that absurd.

Holy Crap! (pun intended) This Church Owns a Mall! (and why the Bloomberg cover gets it exactly right)



If the cover is sacrilegious, then they very apologetic that you and the Mormon Newsroom uses to defend the Church's mall and corporate enterprise is sacrilegious as well.

Note the second sentence of the Newsroom's reply: "From the very beginning, members of the Church displayed a remarkable ability to set aside material things for spiritual goals." This is crucial to understanding the Bloomberg article and why the magazines cover is absolutely spot on. When someone asks why it is that a church owns a multi-billion dollar mall and has a zillion dollar stock portfolio, the Church's response is "this has been our religious/spiritual narrative from the beginning." It is the Church (and you in this Patheos article) that implicitly brings this back to Joseph Smith. It is the Church and you ("everything is spiritual") that wants to say that the priesthood restoration--the moment that marks the beginning of the Church in the Church's historical narrative--and its owning a mall are one and the same.

You can't argue that the Church's building of a multi-billion dollar mall and its spiritual/religious roles are one and the same, and then complain when Bloomberg creates a cover depicting that very argument.

If the cover is sacrilegious, then your and the Church's pointing to its spiritual/religious history ("from the very beginning") is sacrilegious. If the image of John the Baptist commanding the building of a mall at the LDS Church's foundational moment (the beginning of its divine authority) seems utterly absurd, then it is because pointing to that religious history as justification of a multi-billion dollar mall is that absurd.

Friday, May 04, 2012

LDS Political Neutrality vs Mitt Romney vs Obama

The Mormon Newsroom released a new video explaining the Church's political neutrality.



Look familiar?


Friday, April 20, 2012

Apple's ebook model

Apple's model:

1. Make it extremely difficult and annoying for publishers to put books on their stores by:

a. Instead of having a simple website to upload books like Amazon and B&N, require your proprietary software that only runs on a Mac
b. pick arbitrary naming and image standards that can only be checked when uploading the finished ebook
c. after you accept a book, reject it for supposed errors, but only send the publisher a comment saying that "there is a problem with the metadata" without any hint of where that problem may be
d. instead of reading messages and inquiries from publishers about those supposed errors, send generalized responses that make it clear you don't give a sh**.
e.instead of doing what every other ebook software does, force publisher's to create separate image sizes for each device instead of automatically resizing to fit various devices and configurations 
2. Make it difficult for users to find ebooks by :
a. not including tags in description
b. not allowing searches by description 
3. Limit access to the ebooks users purchase:
a. unlike Amazon and B&N, don't create ebook software and apps for non-Apple devices
b. don't even make ebook software for your own Macs
c. make purchased ebooks accessible only on iPhone, iPad, and iTouch 
4. Expect customers to pay more for ebooks through their crappy product
a. When customers don't jump on the opportunity to pay more for crap they can get better and cheaper elsewhere, conspire with large publisher's to force customers to pay more for products they'd rather get from someone else anyways.

Sunday, April 08, 2012

An Easter Message


The question “Why did Jesus die?" is inseparable from the question "Why did they kill him?”
-Ignacio Ellacuria

Persons who preach an exclusively transcendent Kingdom of God do not get themselves murdered. People who preach a Kingdom that is only a new relationship with God, or only “love,” or only “reconciliation,” or only “trust in God,” are not murdered. All these things may be legitimately regarded as elements accompanying the message of the Kingdom of God, but they alone do not explain Jesus’ death, and therefore they alone cannot be the central element of the Kingdom. The Kingdom of God must have had some bearing on the historico-social, not only the transcendent.
-Jon Sobrino