“In regard to the making of the universe and the creation of all things there have been various opinions, and each person has propounded the theory that suited his own taste. For instance, some say that all things are self-originated and, so to speak, haphazard. The Epicureans are among these; they deny that there is any Mind behind the universe at all. This view is contrary to all the facts of experience, their own existence included. For if all things had come into being in this automatic fashion, instead of being the outcome of Mind, though they existed, they would all be uniform and without distinction. In the universe everything would be sun or moon or whatever it was, and in the human body the whole would be hand or eye or foot. But in point of fact the sun and the moon and the earth are all different things, and even within the human body there are different members, such as foot and hand and head. This distinction of things argues not of spontaneous generation but a prevenient Cause; and from that Cause we can apprehend God, the designer and maker of all.” - From “On the Incarnation”
So the argument is simply:

1. If the universe came about spontaneously, there would be no distinctions among things. (S>~D)
2. But there are distinctions among things. (D)

3. Therefore, it is not the case that the universe came about spontaneously (~S from 1,2 Modus hocus pocus tonens).

The argument, being perfectly valid, needs only its premises to be defended. The second premise is obviously true. As Athanasius points out, there are differences between the hand and foot, making them distinct. The first premise, however, is rather difficult. Why should we think it true that if it were the case that the universe came about spontaneously, that there would be no distinctions among things? Well, one way to argue for the first premise is to first argue that the universe did not come about spontaneously. As everyone knows who has dutifully done their truth tables in logic class, if both sides of the conditional are false, the proposition as a whole is true (for example, “If that’s not a hamster, then my name isn’t Captain Barbarian!” is true so long as it is false that that’s not a hamster, and false that my name isn’t Captain Barbarian.) So all we need is another good argument that the universe did not come about spontaneously (say, the Cosmological argument, for example) to argue for the truth of premise one, and St. Athanasius’ argument will work! Problem solved.

But you say you will prove it [unconditional election] by scripture. Hold! What will you prove by Scripture? That God is worse than the devil? It cannot be. Whatever that Scripture proves, it never proved this; whatever its true meaning be. This cannot be its true meaning. Do you ask, “What is its true meaning then?” If I say, “I know not,” you have gained nothing; for there are many scriptures the true sense whereof neither you nor I shall know till death is swallowed up in victory. But this I know, better it were to say it had no sense, than to say it had such a sense as this. It cannot mean, whatever it mean besides, that the God of truth is a liar. Let it mean what it will, it cannot mean that the Judge of all the world is unjust. No scripture can mean that God is not love, or that his mercy is not over all his works; that is, whatever it prove beside, no scripture can prove predestination.

Scripture, according to Wesley, cannot prove unconditional election (by “predestination,” Wesley is specifically referring to the Calvinist understanding of predestination) because this would be to prove God to be other than we know him to be.

To many, Wesley’s argument would seem entirely misguided. Prior to this impassioned part of his sermon, Wesley makes some arguments which he believes show that the doctrine of unconditional election does indeed imply that God is not love, that God is not just, and so forth. Regardless of how convincing (or unconvincing) these arguments may be, the problem for many is that Wesley’s understanding of what scripture teaches on election is shaped by what he has already reasoned about the implications of predestination on God’s love, justice, and so on. But shouldn’t his understanding of what the Bible teaches on election be shaped entirely about what the Bible actually teaches on election, and not on philosophical arguments? Shouldn’t we let our theology be shaped by the Bible, rather than let our Bible be shaped by our theology?

The answer to this question is not as easy as it looks. In order to discern what the Bible says, it is obvious that a certain set of principles must be assumed. We cannot interpret the Bible without knowing how to interpret the Bible, and the Bible itself does not give us the general principles (I am thinking of such basic hermeneutical principles as “pay attention to context,” and basic logical principles like the law of non-contradiction) that we need in order to interpret the Bible. And even if the Bible did give us those principles in certain passages, how would we interpret those passages without already assuming the basic principles? It seems obvious, then, that at a very basic level our interpretation of Scripture is shaped by outside sources, since we cannot even attempt to interpret Scripture without assuming some basic principles which are not learned from Scripture. This is, however, a good deal away from saying that what we can reason about God and man can shape our understanding of the Bible. The level with which extra biblical knowledge must shape our understanding of the Bible is at such a basic level that it is the sort of thing which men assume without even realizing it.

Once we admit, however, that extra-biblical knowledge does inform our interpretation of the Bible, we must accept a simple consequence of this fact: even if the Bible is the ultimate authority in terms of what can be known, it cannot be the sole authority. At the very least, we can gain genuine knowledge of reality not only from scripture but also from other sources. How much we can gain from these other sources is a difficult question, but at the very least an argument from extra-biblical sources about God cannot be dismissed simply because it is “merely” an argument from extra-biblical sources. That is, once we accept reason or experience or some authority other than the Bible as a genuine source of knowledge, we must allow for the possibility that it can tell us something about God.

It has been maintained by many that what extra-biblical sources do tell us about God is, while important, not very much. We may be able to discern through rational thinking that God exists and some things about him, but we can hardly discern that God is triune without the help of special revelation. If this is the case, it is doubtful that reason can tell us anything at all about such subjects as God’s election of certain people to salvation. This seems true if we are speaking of reason which is uninformed by special revelation. But it seems to me that reason which is informed by special revelation can tell us a great deal about God which could not be known from what scripture by itself specifically tells us. That is, in addition to what can be known by reason alone and what can be known by what the Bible tells us (which is itself informed by reason at a basic level), there is also what can be known by reason which is informed by Scripture. That is, we can reason about what scripture tells us in order to gain knowledge beyond what scripture directly tells us. In addition, what scripture tells us should inform how we reason. That is, general and special revelation can work together rather than as separate methods of knowing.

If this is accepted, some difficult epistemological questions immediately arise. What if what the Bible directly tells us contradicts the knowledge we have gained through reason (or from reasoning about scripture)? Do we conclude that our reasoning must be incorrect or that our interpretation of the scripture which contradicts our reasoning is incorrect? It seems that we have two equally powerful arguments for both options. We may describe them as follows.

Argument 1:

1. According to a line of reasoning, X is true.

2. According to an interpretation of a Biblical passage, X is not true.

3. The line of reasoning is correct.

Therefore, the interpretation of the passage is incorrect.

Argument 2:

1. According to a line of reasoning, X is true.

2. According to an interpretation of a Biblical passage, X is not true.

3. The interpretation of the passage is correct.

Therefore, the line of reasoning is incorrect.

Both arguments seem equally valid; to deny this would either be to deny that reason can tell us about reality or to deny that scripture is an authority. The question is how certain we can be of the third premise in either argument. Concerning the third premise in the second argument, it is important to note that determining whether a particular interpretation is correct itself requires a line of reasoning. The problem before us is therefore not so much about scripture verses reason, but about reason verses reason. For, as has been said before, our interpretation of scripture requires reason. And an argument for why a particular passage of scripture is correct certainly requires reason. Now, suppose that the line of reasoning, while fairly convincing, is less convincing than the reasoning which tells us to accept the interpretation of the passage. It seems to me that we must conclude, in this case, that our line of reasoning is somehow incorrect. But supposing we find that the line of reasoning is more convincing than the reasoning which tells us to accept the interpretation of the passage? Here things are a little more difficult. If scripture should be understood to be the ultimate authority, perhaps what it tells us directly should have more weight than what we may gain from reasoning about what scripture tells us. Nevertheless (especially since it must be acknowledged that even our interpretation of scripture involves reasoning) it can at least be said that if it is unclear that the interpretation is correct to begin with, and if the line of reasoning is sufficiently convincing, we are justified in concluding that the interpretation of scripture is incorrect.

Suppose that someone is attempting to decide whether scripture teaches that angelic beings once looked upon the daughters of men with lust and even engaged in intercourse with some of them, resulting in the birth of various giants. Suppose, also, that he finds what Genesis 6 tells him to be rather unclear—it is unclear, perhaps, that the phrase “sons of God” refers to angelic beings. Suppose further that he has clear reasons for believing that it would not be possible for angelic beings to engage in such acts (e.g. perhaps he finds evidence that angels are purely spiritual, and deduces that impregnating human women would be impossible for such beings). It seems to me that, in such a scenario, a person would be epistemologically justified in rejecting the interpretation of scripture which says that there were angelic beings that lusted after the daughters of men and even engaged in intercourse with some of them, resulting in the birth of various giants. The reason he would be justified is not because an alternative interpretation is clearly correct, but because an alternate interpretation better coincides with what he has good reason to believe about angels.

I believe that this approach to scripture is commonsensical and is even commonly used by those who may wish to make objection against it. For example, any Christian theologian who reads in Hebrews that God says to Jesus “You are my Son, Today I have begotten You,” knows that this cannot mean that there was an actual time (before “today”) when the Son was not. And he knows this without even looking at the context of the passage. He knows this because he knows that such a thing would be at odds with what he knows about Jesus from other passages of scripture, what he has already reasoned about those scriptures, and from a general tradition which tells him that Jesus does not have a beginning. And he knows that if Hebrews actually did mean that there was some time when the Son of God was not, then Hebrews would be heretical. But since Hebrews, the theologian will assume, is not heretical, it follows that Hebrews does not actually mean that Jesus had a beginning. Now, I realize that there are probably good hermeneutical reasons to believe that Hebrews does not mean that Jesus had a beginning. My point is that the theologian can and does reject this interpretation regardless of this, and he is right in doing so.

I conclude that we cannot object to a line of argument like that of Wesley’s simply because it is more philosophical than hermeneutical. Wesley thinks it is right to reject the Calvinistic interpretation of scripture, not because there is an alternative interpretation which better suits those particular texts, but because accepting the Calvinist interpretation makes God (in his words) “worse than the devil.” I see no reason to reject his method. The question is simply whether the Calvinistic understanding of predestination does indeed imply some unreasonable things about God. If we find convincing reasons to believe that it does, we cannot, in my view, do anything but agree with Wesley in rejection those interpretations of scripture.

Suppose God knows that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow. How does God know this? God could know it because he determined that you freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow. This would be just fine if it were possible to determine that something be freely chosen. It is arguable that this is not the case, however, and so this conception of God’s knowledge of free actions may not be a good one. Another way that God could know that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow is by perceiving everything about you today and deducing what you will do tomorrow. This would be just fine if knowledge of freely chosen actions could be deduced in this way. It is arguable that this is not the case, however, and so this conception of God’s knowledge of free actions may not be a good one. Yet another way that God could know that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow is by perceiving the actual eating of the banana. If God is outside of time, then God could see you eating the banana tomorrow as if it were occurring this very instant. If God is not outside of time, I suppose God could still see into the future and observe you eating the banana (much like a fortune teller sees through a crystal ball, except without the crystal ball and the strange attire). Either way, God would know that you freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow in much the same way that you and I can know the free choices of other people. We know that someone is smiling at us, for example, because we see them smiling at us. We do not know that they are smiling at us because we determined them to smile at us, nor do we know that they are smiling at us because we can deduce from everything we know about them and everything we know about the surrounding conditions that they are necessarily smiling at us. We know they are smiling at us because we perceive what they are doing through our senses. God does not have “senses” in the same way we do, of course — God does not have literal eyes or ears by which he literally sees or hears us doing things. But I think it is reasonable to say that God can perceive exactly what we are doing in a far more acute way than humans can with the physical senses.

Let us suppose that God creates world X, in which there are the following: A room with two buttons (A and B), and a person (let’s call him Nate) with free will. Let us also suppose that the happiness of Nate is determined by which button he pushes, and that God wants Nate to be happy. If Nate chooses to push button A, which makes him unhappy, and God perceives Nate pushing button A, then God knows that Nate pushes button A. Now Nate’s pushing button A is dependent on a number of things. World X, first of all, has to exist. In addition, Nate has to exist and Nate has to choose to push button A. God’s knowledge of Nate’s pushing button A, then, is dependent on God creating the world X, on God creating Nate, and on Nate choosing to push button A.

Now, supposing that God did not know which button Nate would push, God could be said to have taken a risk when he created world X. Nate might become happy by pushing button B, which God wants, but Nate might also become unhappy by pushing button A, which is not what God wants. Given, however, that God knows which button that Nate will push (because he perceives Nate pushing the button) we might want to say that God does not take a risk in creating world X, and may thus want to ask why God would create world X if he knew that Nate would push button A and not button B.

I think we would be mistaken, however, in thinking that because God knows which button Nate will push; that it necessarily follows that God would not be taking a risk in creating world X. This is because God’s knowledge of Nate pushing button A is dependent on God perceiving that Nate push button A, and Nate pushing button A is dependent on his existence and the existence of world X. Thus God cannot know that Nate will push button A unless he actually creates world X, and so the reasons for which God creates world X cannot include his knowledge of Nate’s choice to push button A.

Suppose God is deciding whether to create world X. If God looks into the future and perceives Nate choosing to push button A (or if God is outside of time, God simply perceives Nate choosing to push button A), and uses this knowledge to decide to not create world X, then God contradicts himself. For in order for God to know that Nate actually chooses to push button A, God would already have decided to created world X (or if God is outside of time, God would be deciding to create world X). That is, God would be deciding not to create world X on the basis of knowledge which he can only know because he does create world X. It isn’t that God doesn’t know what the actions of Nate will be until Nate takes action. Rather, God does know the actions of Nate from all eternity, but God’s decision to create world X cannot be based on his knowledge of Nate’s actions, because his knowledge of Nate’s actions is itself a result of his creating world X. Thus it seems to me that God takes a risk in creating world X, not because he doesn’t know what Nate’s actions will be, but because he cannot take that knowledge into consideration when creating world X. God would not have that knowledge unless he does create world X, and so the knowledge cannot be a reason for God’s creation. God must have created world X for entirely other reasons than his knowledge of Nate’s actions.

The obvious objection to all this is to say that an omniscient God, while he may not know that Nate does in fact choose button A unless he creates world X, he would still know that Nate would choose button A if world X were created. And he would know this regardless of whether world X were actually created, and so God could take this into consideration when deciding to create world X.

This is a good point, but I’m not sure if this knowledge of what someone would freely choose in a hypothetical circumstance is really knowledge. If actions are freely chosen, and not determined by prior circumstances, then can it ever be true to say that someone would freely do X in circumstance Y? I am not just saying that it would be impossible to know what someone would freely do in a hypothetical situation; I am questioning whether saying what someone would freely do in a particular situation has any real meaning. If we know that someone did in fact choose X in circumstance Y, does it follow that it is true to say that he would choose X in circumstance Y? If you put a free creature in a laboratory and observed what he chooses in a particular situation, you couldn’t conclude that he would do that same thing in the exact same circumstances; otherwise it seems that the choice he makes is not really free.

- Jean-Paul Sartre

Now, in order to discover whether String Theory is “unraveling,” we must first know what String Theory is. Unfortunately, I have no idea what it is, and so we must turn to our wise heroes, Sock Raties and Bob, for a satisfactory answer:

The Adventures of Socrates and Bob: Special Edition: Is String Theory Unraveling?

Our adventure begins in the middle, in which Sock Raties is already questioning Bob concerning the nature of String Theory.

Sock Raties: So, Bob, you who are knowledgeable in the ways of String Theory, what is String Theory?

Bob: String Theory, my dear Sock Raties is the theory that everything is made of strings.

Sock Raties: By the Forms, Bob! That is a most interesting theory! Do you believe it is true?

Bob: There is nothing I hold to with more confidence.

Sock Raties: You must be very wise, Bob, to be able to see this truth. Tell me, do you think that string theory is unraveling?

Bob: I am an expert on string theory, Sock Raties, but I’m afraid I don’t understand your question. I am sure there is something wrong with it. Perhaps string theory is too difficult for you to understand.
Sock Raties: The truth is that I do not understand my question either, my wise friend. Nevertheless it is, according to Scientific America, one of the six “debatable” issues of the current age.

Bob: This I cannot deny.

Sock Raties: So then, it seems that we must first find out what the question means, and then attempt to find out the answer.

Bob: That seems like a good plan.

Sock Raties. Now Bob, the definition of string theory is “the theory that everything is made of string,” is that right?

Bob: Yes, as I have just said.

Sock Raties: And so the question before us is this: Is the theory that everything is made of string unraveling?

Bob: That is the question, yes.

Sock Raties: Now, when we say that something is unraveling, we mean that the thing was raveled at one time, but is changing into a state in which it is no longer raveled. Or do we mean something else?

Bob: That is precisely what we mean, and nothing else.

Sock Raties: And when we say that something is raveled, we mean that it is entangled and confused, do we not?

Bob: I can think of no better definition.

Sock Raties: And horse trainers, when they ravel horses, they make them entangled and confused, do they not?

Bob: Certainly.

Sock Raties: And the same is true also of shoe makers?

Bob: Naturally.

Sock Raties: And the captain of a ship?

Bob: Of course.

Sock Raties: And broccoli?

Bob: No, not broccoli.

Sock Raties: But carrots?

Bob: Yes, it does apply to carrots.

Sock Raties: So then, the question before us is whether the theory that everything is made of string was at one time entangled and confused, but is changing into a state in which it is no longer entangled and confused. Is that right?

Bob: Yes.

Sock Raties: Now, earlier you said that you believed string theory to be true, did you not?

Bob: Yes.

Sock Raties: And does truth change over time?

Bob: Certainly not, Sock Raties.

Sock Raties: So then, if string theory is true then it does not change.

Bob: Of course not.

Sock Raties: It seems, then, Bob, that if string theory is true, then it cannot be unraveling, for to unravel is to change from being entangled and confused to being less entangled and confused.

Bob: That seems right to me.

Sock Raties: So then. all we need to decide now is whether string theory is true, and then we will know whether it is unraveling.

Bob: Your reasoning seems very good to me. And I can assure you that string theory is true, being an expert on the subject.

Sock Raties: Very good Bob. But I just have a few more questions. If someone tried to drink string, would he not choke and die?

Bob: That is most likely.

Sock Raties: And if string theory is true, then tea is made of string, is it not?

Bob: Of course.

Sock Raties: So why don’t I die when I drink tea, which is, according to you, the same as drinking string?

And our hero, as if to make his question seem more impressive, begin to drink what he thought to be a cup of tea. Alas, it was not really tea, but a ball of string, and Sock Raties chocked and died.

THE END.

Preface to Paradise Lost