Chapter 3 of 6

And The Nature Of Human Persons . . . . . . .

And The Nature Of Human Persons . . . . . . .

MIRACLES ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.' THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT ABOUT miracles. If miracles were things that normally happened in the course of an average day-or even if they were just somewhat unusual eventsany discussion of miracles would really be pointless. For believers and skeptics alike, a miracle is an event that leaves everyone speechless, trying to find some explanation other than supernatural intervention but not being able to do so. If the element of the inexplicable is missing, we do not have a miracle in the true sense of the word. To borrow a sentence from Charles Dickens, "This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. "2 Any discussion about miracles needs to begin by acknowledging that miracles are events that defy natural explanation. Otherwise, nothing wonderful can come of them.

As we go through our daily existence we predicate all we do and believe on a basic uniformity. When we wake up in the morning we expect the world to be just as it was when we went to bed, and we presume that our circumstances, whether good or ill, will not have changed. We count on the food in our refrigerators to continue to nourish us and on the North Pole to have a colder climate than the equator. We feel justified in believing that the good things of life still are good, but we are also reconciled to the fact that the had things of life-sickness, old age, death-cannot be staved off forever, and so we plan for that inevitable future.

Consequently, it should be in the very nature of any discussion of miracles that it must address a fundamental ambiguity. Clearly, a believer in miracles is committed to their possibility and reality, and this is the issue we will address in this chapter. Nevertheless, believers need not he gullible and usually aren't. Christian believers will be skeptical of reports of miracles occurring within the context of other religions, and many of them will even question reports of miraculous claims from within a Christian environment. For example, Princeton theologian B. B. Warfield devoted a lifetime of writing to defending the supernatural character of biblical Christianity;3 yet he adamantly opposed the idea that there could have been any true miracles after the age of the apostles. "A debased superstition has fallen like a pall over entire communities and for ages has darkened their minds and cursed their whole life,"4 he says of the portions of humanity that take an excessively (to him) supernatural view of life. Strong words for a Christian apologist.

And yet, despite the healthy skepticism that most people will naturally bring to miracles, it is also just as much the case that human beings will look for and embrace evidence of the supernatural. Not only does the majority practice some form of religion, many people who would otherwise deny any formal supernatural beliefs practice superstitions or look for some implicit supernatural assistance for their lives, such as horoscopes and lucky charms. It seems that we do not believe in supernatural agency lightly, but when we do we are firmly committed to it.

A CENTRAL ROLE

For Christians, miracles are an especially important aspect of their reli gion, though not entirely for conventional reasons. For other religions, miraculous events tend to perform two important functions, both of which are also true for Christianity. First, a religion may contain stories of miracles performed by a special person, most likely the founder. For example, Zoroaster, the founder of Zoroastrianism, is said to have healed the horse of a king and thereby brought about the conversion of the king to his teachings. Or, in present-day Hinduism, the teacher Satya Sai Baba supposedly performs miracles of healing and the materialization of objects. In these cases, the miracles are a tool of authentication; they are intended to verify the claims of the person as having a particular special status, whether it be as prophet, God or whatever.

Furthermore, many other religions offer miracles for their adherents as an ongoing benefit of belonging to that religion. Muhammad, the founder of Islam, did not perform miracles,s but folk Islam has always been preoccupied with miracles and other supernatural manifestations, most frequently in association with Muslim saints and pilgrimages to their graves.

Christianity offers miracles as demonstrations of Christ's claims On 20:30) and as possible answers to prayer (as illustrated with irony in Acts 12:6-17), but miracles are even more crucial, both in the Old and New Testament. The very nature of the religion depends on certain miraculous events having occurred. In most other religions miracles are merely an added attraction because only the teaching of the religion is what is centrally important about the religion, but Christianity is founded on the miraculous event of Christ's resurrection. The fact that neither Muhammad nor Buddha were miracle workers is not relevant to their respective religions since their religions consist of teachings which ultimately anyone can obey, even if they have never heard of their founders. But Christianity is based not just on the teachings of Christ but also on what he did, and at that point his miracles, particularly the resurrection, take center stage.

So, for Christianity, a discussion on the reality of miracles is not just an excursus along a tangent; it reaches to the very lifeblood of the religion. What makes this truth so poignant is the fact that for many centuries there have been those who have called themselves Christians but who have believed that Christianity could dispense with the supernatural. For instance, Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-1781), in trying to soften the blow of the skeptical writings of his day, tried to make the case that even if one would have to eliminate all supernatural and miraculous elements from Christian doctrine, one could still have what he called "true" Christianity, a religion that begins and ends with the exhortation to love one's neighbor. From a more biblical perspective, this is clearly inadequate. But then again, many Christian Bible scholars already come to their subject with presuppositions that eliminate miracles up front. A Christian minister asks concerning the historicity of 1 and 2 Chronicles, "First, does Chronicles satisfy the standards of modern history-writing? When phrased in this manner, the answer is almost certainly negative. Chronicles relies on divine intervention and involvement, assuming that God's activity is determinative for the course of history; this fact alone would render it suspect in modern discussions of history."`' Thus, for that commentator, as for many others, his presupposition against the possibility of miracles already indicts the truth of the Bible.

THE LOYAL OPPOSITION

We stated above that a healthy amount of incredulity concerning miracles is a positive human trait; we cannot just take people's word for all they claim anyway, but certainly not when it comes to the supernatural. A serious problem arises, however, when that skepticism becomes universal and when even inescapably documented miracles no longer get their hearing. Obviously, people take a stand against miracles from var ious positions, and even from within their context they will have differing arguments as to why they believe that we should not believe in miracles. Let me mention three.

The naturalist. For our purposes, I'm going to bring together into one category everyone who denies the supernatural altogether. Thus, a true atheist, someone who does not accept the existence of God, would certainly epitomize this category. But let us also include here anyone else who denies supernatural events in the world, not just God's, but those of lesser beings, such as spirits and angels, as well.

The deist. The deist, as we will define the term here, is someone who accepts the existence of God but who rules out divine agency in the world. Most importantly, the nature of deism is not just that God has not performed any miracles, but that it would be against God's very nature to do so. God has created a natural order, and it would be irrational, and hence impossible, for him to break the order of nature that he has created. Deism, then, does not differ dramatically from atheism on this point.'

The supernaturalist. Some people, particularly pantheists (who believe that all of reality is identical with God), believe that the fundamental nature of the universe is spiritual. Thus for them every event in the world would be an instance of the supernatural, and it would not be possible to distinguish miracles from other events in that kind of framework. Everything that happens is equally miraculous (or nonmiraculous, if you will) since everything is brought about by spiritual beings.

In their own way, each of these three classes of people will have reasons against the validity of Christian miracle claims; as a group, I will label them as "skeptic." Those who either accept the reality of at least one specific miracle or accept that miracles are possible in general, I will call "believer."

ENABLING

As we already suggested at the outset of this chapter, a big temptation for the contemporary believer is to attempt to defend miracles by mak ing them appear not-so-miraculous. In trying to get the skeptic to accept a particular miracle, the believer may let the supernatural air out of the event in the hope that it will thus be more plausible to the skeptic. The problem is, of course, that the more you tailor the explanation of the event to the skeptic's expectations, the more you may wind up conceding your case. A skeptic does not need to be convinced that unusual natural events can happen; he knows that already. A skeptic needs to understand that sometimes events are so unusual that we know that only God could have brought them about.

Let me give you a specific example. Many people do not believe the Old Testament story of how Jonah was swallowed by a big fish and stayed alive in it for three days. Bible critic Robert Pfeiffer asserts that it is not "an account of actual happenings," but "it is a fiction."8 His reason is simple: "A man's survival for three days in the belly of a fish, or even a whale, which is the only marine animal of sufficient size, is physiologically improbable, to say the least, even if alleged modern parallels are taken into account."9

Pfeiffer will not believe the story because it apparently violates natural laws as he understands them. Now, one interesting aspect of his declaration is that he makes reference to "alleged modern parallels." It turns out that a number of writers defending the story of Jonah have made an effort to document that such things do, in fact, happen; there have supposedly been other cases of people being swallowed and preserved inside of big fish. For example, Gleason L. Archer mentions several such incidents10 but then also attributes an antisupernatural bias to critics of the story. But if we try to defend the story on the basis of natural parallels, aren't we guilty of a vestigial antisupernaturalism ourselves?

My point is this: I do not believe that the case for the plausibility of the Jonah story is really enhanced by making it appear more like a natural event. The whole story focuses on the idea that it was God who sent the fish, that it was God who preserved Jonah inside the fish for three days and that it was God who caused the fish to spew out Jonah after that time. There is little to be gained by showing to the skeptic some dubious reports of how supposedly something similar happened at other times and places without God's direct agency. To use contemporary psychological jargon, there is no need for the believer to be an enabler for the skeptic's antisupernatural addiction.

THIS Is NOT ICE SKATING

How would we feel about a sport in which the final outcomes were determined by a panel of judges chosen in advance for their support of a specific contestant? This would strike us as highly unfair, and we wouldn't stand for it, would we? Come to think of it, there is one sport like that; it's called Olympic ice skating, and every once in a while, when things get too far out of hand, the people in charge of it implement some modest cosmetic reforms. For the most part, though, we expect athletic contests to be carried out in such a way that all contestants begin with an equal chance at victory.

Unfortunately, many skeptics expect the debate on miracles to be carried on along the lines of Olympic figure skating; that is to say, they want to come to the discussion with an assured outcome in their favor. More specifically, they expect to be able to set the terms of the debate in such a way that the believer never has a reasonable shot at making his case. In a moment we are going to look at two examples of this strategy by the skeptic. For now, let me just switch analogies and look at the skeptic's demands in this way. Imagine that some ichthyological agnostic does not believe in fish and tells us:

Okay, I will allow you to demonstrate to me that there are such things as fish and what the criteria are for recognizing them. As you do so, please keep in mind that I do not believe that there is such a thing as water, and that furthermore, even if I conceded hypothetically that there were, I could never accept that any living being could survive in it. But pleaseI'm an open-minded person-don't let me keep you from making your case, and I will be happy to give you a frank appraisal as to whether you succeeded or not.

In the same way, the skeptic has come to the believer in miracles and said:

Okay, I will allow you to demonstrate to me that there are such things as miracles and what the criteria are for recognizing them. As you do so, please keep in mind that I do not believe that there is such a thing as any supernatural agency, and that furthermore, even if I conceded hypothetically that there were, I could never accept that we could actually recognize a miracle if it had happened. But please-I'm an open-minded person-don't let me keep you from making your case, and I will be happy to give you a frank appraisal as to whether you succeeded or not.

As backwards as this situation sounds, for about four hundred years this has been the position of the debate in Western philosophy. Not only have skeptics laid out what the terms are supposed to be, they have even convinced believers that unless they come to the debate on the skeptics' terms, they are not truly entitled to believe in their own miracles. But this is silly; why should those who have already declared their steadfast refusal ever to believe be the ones who set the terms for those who do?

THE RIGHT STARTING POINTS

Clearly the question of miracles has many starting points. It is one of the besetting maladies of philosophy that people who have made some great contributions have baptized their methodology as the one and only appropriate one-for example, the way of having knowledge or the way of making moral decisions. Then someone else would come along and show that maybe this particular method was not universal in scope after all-and declare that, therefore, there was no correct method whatsoever. Wouldn't it be more reasonable to say that different areas of life and philosophy may require different ways of approaching them? So it would seem to be the case for miracles. An important area of the technical exploration of the nature of miracles is, of course, the relationship of the allegedly miraculous to the laws of science, and we shall return to this point below. However, I think it is safe to say that most of the world's reports of miracles have been provided by people who would have had only a rudimentary grasp of what we would call the laws of science. If we want to define a miracle in terms of an anomaly of the laws of science, and sometimes it may be helpful to do so, keep in mind that we are actually redefining the concept into parameters that would have been foreign to the ones who were involved with or were reporting the miraculous event.

Similarly, sometimes it is helpful to analyze miracles from the standpoint of probability assessment, and again, we shall allude to this point some more in a little while. Still, to a believer in miracles, the improbability of the event is a given. Otherwise-to return to the leitmotif of this chapter-it would not be a miracle.

Undoubtedly, the most important aspect of the problem of miracles is the surrounding context of understanding. We have already made reference to the fact that both believers and skeptics come to the issue with various preconceptions; this is how people's minds work, and it does no good to deny it-it's simply a fact. However, in contrast to the great leap into relativism that has characterized philosophy over the last 150 years, there is no need to conclude that, therefore, people cannot communicate, let alone interact with each other rationally about philosophical concepts. Of course they can; if they could not, you would not be reading this chapter right now, consenting or disagreeing as you go along. Having said that, however, it is clear that on a topic such as miracles, the larger worldview a person brings to the issue is going to be of enormous consequence. To use myself as the example I know best, there is no question that the totality of my belief system, as well as my cultural heritage as a Christian, direct me to the acceptance of miracles; my background beliefs as a Christian theist, including the supernatural components, are what make miracles possible and knowable; whatever I say in the context of the nature of miracles is going to be colored by the goal of rational coherence for my worldview, which includes the reality of miracles.

But surely these qualifications apply to the skeptic as well. Let us say that the owner of the website "infidels.org" posted an essay in which he argued against the reality of miracles." Clearly it is reasonable to assume that the totality of his belief system, as well as his cultural heritage in the world of atheism, direct him to the rejection of miracles; his background beliefs as an atheist, including the rejection of the supernatural component of religious belief, are what makes miracles impossible and unknowable; whatever he says in the context of the nature of miracles is going to be colored by the goal of rational coherence for his worldview, which includes the unreality of miracles.

This observation is not intended as an ad homilaem attack on the atheist or to relativize, personalize or trivialize the issues. But it is to indicate that much of the time-perhaps even most-the central issue is neither whether miracles have occurred nor whether miracles are even possible, but what one's worldview is. The confirmed antisupernatural atheist is not just within his rights. He is under an intellectual obligation to deny the reality of miracles in general and specific miraculous events in particular. However, and this is crucial for our point, he is not within his rights to assume the atheist standpoint as normative for anyone else or-if he wishes to engage in intellectual debate-to insulate his atheistic presuppositions from the discussion.

For the believer, miracles are usually a simple outgrowth of a worldview that is centered on a supernatural agency, most likely God. To focus on Christian theism in particular, the person who believes in God according to traditional Christian teaching accepts that there is a Being with infinite power and knowledge, who created the world and is moment by moment sustaining the universe with his power. For the person who holds this view, it is entirely obvious that God could, at any time he chose, act directly within the finite order that he himself created.

But that does not mean that God did act in such a way. The nature of theism makes miracles possible because it looks at God as a personal agent who is free to intervene in his created order, should he so desire. But this very nature also implies, then, that God is free not to intervene. God is not compelled to act in a miraculous manner, and believers are not obligated to accept each and every purported case of a miraculous event as real. Thus, for the person who is disposed toward accepting the reality of miracles, there continue to be ongoing concerns. For a specific event, the believer still needs to know whether there is sufficient reason to recognize it as a miracle. We will expand on this matter further below.

So we see that the issue of miracles represents a confluence of many issues and concerns. Figure 10.1 illustrates the point. We will now address the skeptic's concerns a little more and then follow tip with some applications within the believer's circle.

Figure 10.1

DAVID HUME'S "YEAH, RIGHT" ARGUMENT

There has been a lot of debate concerning miracles over the centuries. Much of it has been simply a confrontation of dogmatic commitments, whether it be from the skeptic's assertion that miracles just cannot happen or from the believer's demand that all authorized miracles must be accepted as true as a matter of faith. Two lines of argument on the skeptic's side stand out, one going back to the eighteenth century and one from the twentieth.

Perhaps the best-known argument against the reality of miracles comes from the Scottish philosopher David Hume.' Among his many faceted arguments, the most famous one focuses on the notion that even if miracles could theoretically occur, we could rationally never know that they did. Obviously, Hume was not saying that people cannot believe in miracles, because they clearly do, but his point was that reasonable people should not do so because the evidence in their favor can never be sufficient. With this argument, Hume believed that he had established "an everlasting check to all kinds of superstitious delusion, and consequently will be useful as long as the world endures."13

Imagine that I told you of an event that clearly violates a law of nature. Say I report to you that my cat just spoke to me in plain English, confirming his menu demands for the next week. What is your reaction going to be? Presumably, if you have a little common sense, you are not going to believe my story. In contemporary vernacular, the popular expression of disbelief is, "yeah, right." Cats can't speak English, and there is not much else to say about the matter except to figure out why I might be saying such a thing. I could be telling a deliberate lie for some peculiar reason; I could be trying to make a joke at my cat's expense; I could be hallucinating; I could even just be testing a silly example for a chapter on miracles. Whatever explanation we may want to settle on is going to be more plausible than that my cat spoke to me in English. The weight of probability goes to an alternative explanation.

But note that not every alternative is necessarily preferable. The "explanation" that what I see before me as my cat is actually my neighbor's dog, who disguised himself as my cat in order to speak to me, really compounds the implausibility. A reasonable person will weigh the probability of all the various alternatives and choose the one that affords the least absurdity. This is what Hume wanted us to see. Ultimately every claim to knowledge involves an assessment of probability, and the rational person will believe whatever is most probably true. In many cases, the probability of a claim is so low that there is no chance whatsoever of a sane person accepting it.

Let us shift to an example not quite as absurd as my cat speaking English. Say that I inform you that I just saw a man turn water into wine. Assume additionally that you know me to be honest, sober and observant, and that I manifest all of the signs we usually expect from people who believe their own story. In other words, the probability of my being deluded or my intentionally deceiving you is quite low. But something else is even lower, namely, the probability of someone actually turning water into wine. As a rational person you will have to make a decision. Which is more probable: that I might be making some kind of mistake in reporting this alleged miracle or that the laws of nature were actually violated by a water-to-wine transformation? For Hume, this is an easy choice. Water into wine-"yeah, right."

The upshot for Hume is that we should always follow this process of evaluating alternatives. Someone reports a miracle to us. We put the report on the scales of probability, and the laws of nature will always win out, as illustrated in figure 10.2.

Figure 10.2

Regardless of how strong the reports about a violation of the laws of nature might be, a reasonable person will never believe that they were violated.

But you may already have noticed that this is really no argument at all. It is nothing more than an expression of a predisposition against miracles at all costs. Other than as a subjective preference, there is really no good reason why we should always choose to believe that a person gave an erroneous report. A statistical generalization, such as "we have never known the laws of nature to fail," is either false or question begging since that is precisely the issue in question. The theistically based believer does not say that the laws of nature do not take precedence in our day-to-day lives; of course they do. However, he does claim that there may he (and, in fact, have been) times when there is enough evidence in favor of a miraculous event that a rational person should recognize that the laws of nature have actually been superseded by divine agency.

ANTONY FLEW'S °I JUST KNOW IT" ARGUMENT

The second most celebrated argument against miracles looks somewhat like a restatement of Hume's, but it actually takes us in a different direction.' Antony Flew is a twentieth-century skeptical philosopher who has argued strenuously against various forms of religious belief. He may be most famous for his thesis that Christians have allowed their language about God to become meaningless because they do not allow any evidence to count against their claims about God.'' Specifically, Flew alleges that Christians will continue to assert their belief that God loves them as a father loves his children, even when there is so much evidence in the world counting against God's love. The issue is not just that Christians have weighed the evidence and decided in favor of believing in the love of God but that Christians will not even concede that there is any evidence that could count against divine love. Whenever there is a challenge to their belief in God's love, they simply redefine the concept so as to avoid having to deal with the possibility that maybe the loving God in whom they believe does not exist. At least this is what Flew claims, though, needless to say, there is quite a bit of debate on whether he is right.

What there cannot be any debate about is that-ironically-this is the exact strategy that Flew uses with regard to his denial of miracles. He is particularly opposed to the idea that any historical account could ever be a legitimate source for information on supernatural events. In contrast to Hume's argument as we presented it above, Flew does not just question the reliability of testimonies to the miraculous; he asserts that it is fundamentally incorrect ever to accept any report of a miracle as true. According to Flew, it is contrary to the nature of science to make allowances for the supernatural, and historical reports should not be permitted to violate the nature of reality as science circumscribes it for us. According to Flew, that does not mean that science necessarily has the correct explanation for every historical event but that whatever the ultimate explanation may be for a specific event, it cannot be miraculous. Thus Flew makes the following astounding statement: "If ever we became able to say that some account of the ostensibly miraculous was indeed veridical, we can say it only because we now know that the occurrences reported were not miraculous at all." 16 Consequently, Flew's claim that no events are miraculous is completely unfalsifiable, and, just as he accuses the Christian in his defense of the love of God, it becomes a meaningless mantra. No evidence could conceivably count against his rejection of any event as miraculous. To use another piece of contemporary jargon, "he just knows it."

This attitude would, of course, result in an immediate victory for the antisupernaturalist, but only because he mounted his own platform to crown himself with laurels of his own plucking. Once evidence for the miraculous has been ruled out of court a priori, obviously it is impossible even to begin making an evidential case for miracles. A more plausible strategy would seem to be to allow the case for each specific miracle to rest on its own merits. If the historical support is insufficient, if the alleged eyewitness testimony is incompetent, or if there are plausible alternative explanations, then one should not invoke the supernatural. But a case against the supernatural that begins with a broad dismissal of the supernatural as its major premise is not terribly convincing.

HOW TO RECOGNIZE A MIRACLE

In general, what would people do if they were confronted with the claim that a particular miracle has occurred? Let us ignore for the moment the reaction of those who are going to dismiss all claims to the supernatural as well as those who are simply ready to embrace various alleged mira cle accounts (particularly those within the context of their own religion) as true. For those who bring a certain amount of critical thought to an event, it seems fair to delineate the following conditions.

There needs to be some kind of reasonable expectation that the event in question even should be considered to be a miracle. This prima facie presumption would separate the event from nonmiraculous occurrences. For example, if a man stepped out of a boat in the middle of a lake and immediately sank, there would be no presumption toward a miracle. But if he stepped out of the boat and proceeded to walk on the water, the idea of a miracle would at least be a contender among various explanations.

The event must be unusual enough to defy common explanations. In other words, it should present what we would consider to be either an impossibility or an extreme improbability. Generally, writers on the subject divide miracles into two classes, which often go by different names.

Class 1: violation, superseding or first-order miracles. These are events in which the basic nature of reality has been defied. For example, if I poured pure water into the gas tank of my car and the water instantaneously turned to gasoline, this event would qualify as a class 1 miracle.

Class 2: configuration, contingency, constellation or secondorder miracles. These miracles do not appear to break any laws of nature per se, but they present us with a sequence of events that is so improbable as to be as astounding as an apparent violation of the laws of nature. An example of such a miracle could be a scenario in which a meteor hits an apartment building at two in the morning, but an hour earlier, for totally unrelated reasons, all seventy-three people living in that building decided to get up and go somewhere else.

The event in question has to occur in a framework directed toward the supernatural. This point could be understood as a sub-point under the first one (assuming a reasonable prima facie presumption), but it also specifies a very important additional requirement. In order to be thought of as a miracle, there should be some reason to associate the event with the supernatural. If a highly unusual event were to happen, and no one (neither the person who performed the action nor any of the witnesses) were making any reference to God or other supernatural agency, even Antony Flew would be entitled to bypass a supernatural explanation.

Supernatural agency should be the most reasonable explanation for the event in question. Note that I am not saying that it should be the only explanation available, since it is always possible to concoct some explanation, no matter how far-fetched, as an alternative. Antony Flew's position of "I-just-know-it-can't-be-a-miracle-regardless-of-the-evidence" comes to mind. Nevertheless, when looking at the event, it should be such that reasonable people feel compelled to conclude that, contrary to their normal expectations, here is a genuine miracle.

The last point in particular highlights the fact that, even with a formal delineation of this sort, the ambiguity never goes away. There are bound to be many cases in which believers disagree as to whether an actual miracle occurred or not. But that ambiguity does not mean that it is impossible to identify a miracle. Some people believe that the victories of Joan of Arc were miracles; others do not. However, it is not necessary to have a foolproof deductive method for an evaluation of all such claims in order to be quite certain that certain other events, say the resurrection of Jesus Christ, were miracles.'

CLIMBING DOWN MOUNT CARMEL AND UP MOUNT CALVARY

Please note that I have not given the evidence for a specific miracle, and it is not in the purview of this chapter to do so. All I have hoped to have accomplished at this point is to show that despite the fact that claims for miracles should never be accepted lightly, there may be times when such a claim could turn out to be the most reasonable one.

Now, let us skip ahead and ask ourselves: what if we have reasonably identified an event as miracle? What would that prove? The answer depends on the particular instance, of course, since miracles occur in different circumstances and seem to be intended to carry out different tasks. Within discussions of Christian apologetics, such as this one, miracles are expected to be evidence to lead people to belief in God, but in reality they hardly ever function this way. As a case in point, we read in Matthew's Gospel concerning Christ's return to his hometown of Nazareth, "And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith" (Mt 13:58). Clearly faith was a precondition for the possibility for Christ to do miracles, not the intended outcome.

In general, it would seem to be fair to say that miracles usually are intended to reinforce some already established beliefs. For example, a miracle can demonstrate the love of God to someone who is being healed; in such a case probably no new belief is being created, but an already existing one is supported. Miracles can even take on a negative quality. Moses warned the people to be on guard against any future prophet who would lead the people into apostasy precisely because such a prophet's predictions would actually be fulfilled. He might predict a miracle, and "the sign or wonder of which he has spoken takes place" (Dent 13:2). Such a prophet, according to Mosaic law, should be executed because his miracles, though genuine, are an attestation of his false teachings. So, it would definitely be a mistake to think of miracles as having their only, or even primary, function in trying to convince an unbeliever to come to faith.

So, it would definitely be wrong to think of miracles as the chips in some huge wagering game among the great religions of the world. The resurrection turns out to be the biggest miracle, and so the religion with the resurrection (Christianity) wins. Obviously, some people do try to use the miracles of their religions in such a way, but it is contrary to the way in which miracles are usually seen within the religions themselves. Hume, the skeptic, thought that miracles served in such a corroborative capacity and that they cancelled themselves out since every religion seems to lay claim to similar supernatural events. "Every miracle, therefore, pretended to have been wrought in any of these religions ... as its direct scope is to establish the particular system to which it is attributed, so has it the same force, though more indirectly, to overthrow every other system."1R

Nevertheless, as we pointed out, miracles do not usually function as support pillars for entire religions.

Still, that does not mean that miracles can play no role in the personal formation of Christian belief. However, when they do so, it is a matter of an individual confronting the supernatural work of God. The apostle John says concerning the miracles of Christ he reported in his Gospel: "These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name" (Jn 20:31).

But what about what we said earlier concerning the resurrection of Christ? Did we not state early on in this chapter that the resurrection is central to Christianity, and that in fact this is what distinguishes it from other religions? Yes, we did, and let there be no doubt about it: Christ's resurrection is a huge miracle, based on extremely reliable sources and defying nonsupernatural explanations. But this is not its importance per se. It is important first of all because it happened. The resurrection is crucial to Christianity because the Son of God incarnate, having died for our sins, returned to life so that we may also receive eternal life. There may not be any bigger miracle, but it is not the magnitude of the miracle that matters so much as what God did in this event.

Belief in miracles is neither easy nor an end in itself. But, as we have seen, it is the transition that makes it possible for us to move from a general theistic worldview to a specific acceptance of what God has done in history on behalf of our redemption. A long time ago on Mount Carmel, the prophet Elijah held a contest with the prophets of Baal as to which god-Yahweh or Baal-could miraculously produce fire. Yahweh, of course, came through. However, such a contest is not at the heart of what miracles mean for the Christian. Much more importantly, it is because there is a God who does miracles that we can be sure of the salvation God provided for us on Mount Calvary.

FOR FURTHER READING

Beckwith, Francis J. David HumesArgumentAgainstMiracles. A CriticalAnaly- sis. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1989.

Brown, Colin. Miracles and the Critical Mind. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1984.

Geisler, Norman L. Miracles and the Modern Mind. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1992.

Geivett, R. Douglas, and Gary R. Habermas, eds. In Defense of Miracles. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1997.

Lewis, C. S. Miracles. New York: Collier, 1947.

Swinburne, Richard, ed. Miracles. Englewood Cliffs, NJ.: Prentice-Hall, 1989.

THE CASE FOR THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST IS CERTAINLY MUI.TIFACETEI). Few New Testament topics involve more details or are treated so seriously by recent critical scholars. Due to the hundreds of studies on this topic, this chapter must frequently rely on a summarized format that simply lists some of the many conclusions that have emerged in contemporary research.

Throughout, we will cite chiefly those data to which the vast majority of recent researchers agree, regardless of their prior theological positions. Even more crucial is that these critical scholars agree with these data precisely because they are well supported on factual grounds, often for multiple reasons. I have argued the details for my conclusions elsewhere, as have others. So the sources cited in the notes will provide additional background information, argumentation, as well as other details for those who wish to consult them. The author is employing the results of his recent study of fourteen hundred sources on this subject, published since 1975 in German, French and English.

In addition to furnishing some of these summarized conclusions, I will concentrate in this chapter on just two major topics that are seldom discussed in detail. Both are crucial components in a historical case for the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

First, for a variety of reasons, it is the virtually unanimous conclusion of contemporary scholars that Jesus' early followers at least thought that they had seen appearances of the risen Jesus after his death. But how do we move from our certainty that the early disciples believed that they had seen appearances of Jesus to their really seeing Jesus? In other words, how do we move from their convictions to a historical resurrection? It is my contention that this is the single most crucial aspect of an argument for the historical resurrection appearances of Jesus.

Second, religious and political transformations are common in our world during recent decades. Whether one studies the history of communism, Muslim suicide strategies, missionary activity or particular news events such as Jonestown, David Koresh or the Heaven's Gate UFO group, it is increasingly obvious that many individuals, both Christians and non-Christians, are willing to give their lives for what they believe. So what makes the transformations of Jesus' disciples, even to the point of being willing to die for their faith, so unique? How can this aspect of early Christianity be such an important component of most arguments for the resurrection, if it is nowhere near unique?

THE DISCIPLES' EXPERIENCES OF THE RISEN JESUS

In contemporary studies of the historical Jesus, some items are supported by a broad scholarly consensus. That Jesus' proclamation of the kingdom of God was his central message and that Jesus died by crucifixion are two of the most readily agreed-upon events in Jesus' life.

Ranking with these two is the substantially unanimous verdict of contemporary critical scholars that Jesus' early disciples at least thought that they had seen the risen Jesus. Prominent historian E. P Sanders, who calls himself a liberal,' signifies this agreement. He declares that the ,,equally secure facts" include that Jesus' disciples "saw him (in what sense is not certain) after his death. . . . Thereafter his followers saw him.

Support for the disciples' experiences. It is certainly noteworthy that the vast majority of scholars, representing many viewpoints, in spite of extensive disagreements in other areas, recognizes that the disciples actually had real experiences of some sort. It seems equally clear that this recognition is clue to the presence of a rather impressive number of strong reasons for holding this conclusion. Even a brief listing of these reasons may be instructive.

1. In contemporary critical studies, the apostle Paul is almost always thought to be the best witness among the New Testament writers. A former opponent of this message, Paul clearly points out that the risen Jesus appeared personally to him. Paul makes this claim more than once (1 Cor 9:1; 15:8; Gal 1:16). We also have corroboration of Paul's testimony from another New Testament author, who retells the story three times (Acts 9:1-8; 22:3-11; 26:9-18).

The data behind the fact of Paul's conversion from being an enemy of the church are recognized by all. But there needs to be a reason for this brilliant young scholar being convinced against his former beliefs and persecution of believers, as he explains (1 Cor 15:9; Gal 1:13-14; Phil 3:4-7). Paul's reason is very clear: he was persuaded that he had seen the risen Lord. Therefore Paul was obviously an eyewitness to his own experience. The scholarly consensus here is attested by Michael Martin, a philosophical atheist who admits: "However, we have only one contemporary eyewitness account of a postresurrection appearance of Jesus, namely Paul's."3

2. Beyond Paul's own experience, this apostle presents plenty of additional evidence for the claim that Jesus had appeared to his early followers. Essentially all critical scholars today agree that in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, Paul records an ancient oral tradition(s) that summarizes the content of the Christian gospel. Jesus the Christ died for human sin, was hur- ied and raised from the dead, afterwards appearing to both individuals as well as groups of witnesses. While Paul penned the words, he is clear that this material was not his own but that he had passed on to his listeners years before (1 Cor 15:1-2) what he had received from others, as the very heart of his message (1 Cor 15:3). If he were writing today, he might have footnoted his source! Thus this testimony is actually years earlier than the book of 1 Corinthians. Reginald Fuller indicates the scholarly agreement here: "It is almost universally agreed today that Paul is here citing tradition."4

So Paul provides a straightforward explanation that he delivered to his audience what he had first received from others (1 Cor 15:3), which are the equivalent terms for passing rabbinic tradition to others (cf. 1 Cor 11:23). Besides this clear declaration of his actions, there are many other indications that this is exactly what happened. The sentence structure, diction, verbal parallelism, the threefold sequence of "and that," as well as the presence of several non-Pauline words, the proper names of Cephas (cf. Lk 24:34) and James, and indications that there may have been an Aramaic original all point clearly to this tradition being prePauline. Critical scholars agree that Paul received it from others.'

The most popular view among scholars is that Paul first received this very early material when he visited Jerusalem just three years after his conversion. He visited Peter and James, the brother of Jesus (Gal 1:18-19), both of whom are listed as having seen the risen Jesus (1 Cor 15:5, 7).

Stronger evidence to support this conclusion comes from Paul's use of the verb historesai in Galatians 1:18, which is usually not very helpfully translated into English. The Greek term indicates that Paul visited Peter for the purpose of investigating a particular subject. The immediate context reveals that subject: Paul's topic for discussion was ascertaining the nature of the gospel message (Gal 1:11-2:10). And Jesus' resurrection was the focus of the gospel message (1 Cor 15:3-4; Gal 1:11, 16). Without it, faith is vain (1 Cor 15:14, 17).

Critical scholars usually concede that this pre-Pauline tradition(s) originated at an exceptionally early date. For Ulrich Wilckens, this content "indubitably goes back to the oldest phase of all in the history of primitive Christianity." 6 Walter Kasper even thinks that this "ancient text" was possibly "in use by the end of 30 AD .,,7

Perhaps surprisingly, skeptics frequently even agree. Skeptic Gerd Lii- demann asserts that "the elements in the tradition are to be dated to the first two years after the crucifixion of Jesus ... not later than three years. ... The formation of the appearance traditions mentioned in I Cor15.3- 8falls into the time between 30 and 33 C.E. "8 Philosopher Thomas Sheehan thinks that this pre-Pauline formula "probably goes back to at least 32-34 C.E., that is, to within two to four years of the crucifixion. "9 Michael Goulder holds that this resurrection report "goes back at least to what Paul was taught when he was converted, a couple of years after the crucifixion. "10

Other skeptics are often not shy about expressing their agreement." In fact, most of the critical scholars who date these events conclude that Paul received this material within just a few years after Jesus' death, in the early or mid 30s.'2 We will see how the existence and circumstances at such an early date translate to additional eyewitness testimony besides Paul's.

3. Paul was exceptionally careful to ascertain the content of the gospel message, which centered on the resurrection. To do so, he made a second trip to Jerusalem specifically for the purpose of checking out his gospel preaching (Gal 2:1-10). Amazingly, he states his fear that perhaps he had been teaching the wrong message (Gal 2:2). Some think that Acts 15:1-35 describes an amazing third trip to Jerusalem to do the same.'3 Paul obviously desired to be absolutely positive of the gospel truth! Further, Paul was careful to ask his questions of the proper authorities-the chief apostles. In his initial trip, he met with Peter and James, the brother of Jesus (Gal 1:18-20). On the second occasion, he met with these same two men, plus the apostle John (Gal 2:9). Martin Hengel points out that `evidently the tradition of I Cor. 15.3 had been subjected to many tests" by Paul."

It is easy to overlook the significance of these meetings. The four men who met together on the latter occasion were certainly the chief apostles in the early church, and each one had been an eyewitness of Jesus' resurrection appearances (1 Cor 15:5-7). Therefore, when Paul received their confirmation that his gospel was correct (Gal 2:9; cf. Acts 15:23-35), we have their assurance that Paul's message of Jesus' resurrection appearances agreed with their own experiences. Certainly, if they thought that Paul erred on the central fact of the gospel, this would have created grave problems, especially given the apostolic concern to insure doctrinal truth in the early church.

So Paul provides more than his own eyewitness testimony, as in (1) above. During his trips to inquire of the three senior apostles in Jerusalem, Paul passed their examination regarding his gospel proclamation. Their blessings assume their own eyewitness testimony concerning Jesus' resurrection appearances, since they had also experienced the risen Jesus. Here we are but one step removed from additional eyewitness testimony.

4. Not only did the other apostles confirm Paul's gospel message, but we also have the reverse testimony. After reporting a list of Jesus' resurrection appearances, Paul explains that he knew what the other apostles were preaching on this subject and that it was the same as his teaching about Jesus' appearances (1 Cor 15:11). Together, they proclaimed the risen Jesus (1 Cor 15:12, 15). So we have both the previous, more indirect apostolic confirmation of Paul's gospel message provided by the apostolic leadership, as well as Paul's firsthand, more direct approval of their resurrection message.

5. Insights into the earliest resurrection preaching are gleaned not only from the pre-Pauline report in 1 Corinthians 15. Other early creedal texts found in the New Testament also provide spotlights on the apostolic witness to the resurrection appearances. The book of Acts incorporates many of these early traditions, located in the sermons contained there.1 Although not as unanimously as with the creed(s) in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, a majority of critical scholars still hold that at least some of these snippets represent the earliest Christian gospel preaching."' Like other early traditions, they are identified by their brevity, lack of theological complexity, and because the structure, style and/or diction reflect language patterns other than the author's. Crucially for our purposes, the risen Jesus is the center of each of these traditions.

These Acts creeds could provide a window on the ancient world of apostolic preaching before a single New Testament book was written. John Drane thinks that these sermons in Acts are our "earliest evidence" for Jesus' resurrection and that this material "almost certainly goes back to the time immediately after the resurrection event is alleged to have taken place.... But there can be no doubt that in the first few chapters of Acts its author has preserved material from very early sources."" Ger ald O'Collins concludes more specifically that Acts "incorporates resurrection formulae which stem from the thirties." 18

6. We have been discussing the earliest apostolic witness to Jesus' resurrection appearances. It is seldom questioned by critical scholars that James, Jesus' brother, was an unbeliever and probably a skeptic during his brother's public ministry (Mk 3:21-35; Jn 7:5). Then, just a few years later, James is the pastor of the Jerusalem church, where Paul finds him when he went for his two visits (Gal 1:18-19; 2:1-10; cf. Acts 15:13-21). In between, the early pre-Pauline creed in 1 Corinthians 15:7 states that James met the risen Jesus. One can only imagine what transpired there!

While there may not seem at first look to be much textual data here, critical scholars find at least three major reasons for concluding that James was an unbeliever before he met the risen Jesus. John Meier states the case well. James's unbelief is attested by multiple independent sources.19 Further, the criterion of coherence is satisfied in that Jesus frequently demanded that his disciples be willing to leave their family behind and follow him, even if it engendered their wrath, as it did with Jesus' own family. The criterion of embarrassment probably provides the strongest reason here, since it is highly unlikely that early church authors would make such potentially "deeply offensive" comments regarding both an esteemed leader as well as Jesus' own brother, unless they thought they were reporting facts ."0

Fuller concludes that even if the pre-Pauline creed in 1 Corinthians 15:7 had never been recorded, "we should have to invent" an appearance to James to justify both his conversion as well as his promotion to the pastorate in Jerusalem, the largest of the early churches!'' The majority of scholars, including many skeptics, agree that James was converted by Jesus' appearance to him.22

7. If Jesus' burial tomb was later found empty, this does not prove that a resurrection occurred. However, it adds some credibility to the disciples' claim to have seen the risen Jesus, since it both seriously complicates the search for a naturalistic hypothesis, as well as indicating that whatever happened most likely involved Jesus' body.

There are well over a dozen reasons supporting Jesus' empty tomb, only a few of which we will simply mention here. The Gospels are in complete agreement that women were the earliest witnesses to the empty tomb, a simply remarkable report since female testimony was generally disallowed in a law court for declarations on crucial topics. Thus, to fabricate this story with women as the central witnesses most likely would serve only to have the case dismissed without a hearing. This report only makes sense if it reflected what actually happened. Jerusalem is absolutely the last place on earth for Jesus' followers to proclaim that he had been raised, unless his grave was empty. Otherwise, a Sunday afternoon stroll would clearly indicate that the stone was still in place, revealing their erroneous message.

The empty tomb accounts are surprisingly attested by multiple sources, being found in almost every Gospel source. Ancient historian Paul Maier remarks, "Many facts from antiquity rest on just one ancient source, while two or three sources in agreement generally render the fact unimpeachable."23

The early pre-Pauline creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3-4 at least implies an empty tomb. The sequence involved in the triple "and that" phrases, especially for a Jew, intimates that if Jesus died, was buried, rose and appeared, then what had been living was placed in the ground and later emerged. In such a case, the tomb would have been vacated. What may be another early creed (Acts 13:29-31, 36-37) even more clearly indicates that Jesus was buried in a tomb, was raised and appeared.

Not only did the Jewish leaders not dispute the empty tomb, but their reported response even conceded it (Mt 28:11-15). So enemy attestation also supports the empty tomb.

While the empty tomb is not as unanimously held as are the other historical reasons that we have given for the disciples' experiences, most critical scholars still think that the tomb where Jesus was buried was later discovered to be empty.2 J. D. G. Dunn firmly states: "I have to say quite forcefully: the probability is that the tomb was empty. As a matter of historical reconstruction, the weight of evidence points firmly to the conclusion." The alternative explanations are all worse.'' Historian Michael Grant explains that "the historian ... cannot justifiably deny the empty tomb" since normal historical criteria attest that, "the evidence is firm and plausible enough to necessitate the conclusion that the tomb was indeed found empty.,. '

8. Last, there is no question that the disciples' belief that they had actually seen Jesus after his death led to a radical transformation in their lives, even to the point of being willing to die for their faith. But since the question regarding the degree of the uniqueness here is the chief concern of the second section of this chapter, we will not belabor the point here.

We have listed eight different reasons that indicate why contemporary scholars almost without exception conclude that the disciples truly thought that Jesus had appeared alive to them after he had died on the cross. Paul's own eyewitness testimony, the exceptionally early date when he received the creed(s) recorded in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, checking his own gospel message at least twice with the chief apostles who were also witnesses, and his knowledge of their eyewitness teaching on the resurrection appearances form a simply remarkable, interconnected trail of evidence that is virtually unheard of in ancient documents. Eminent scholar Howard Clark Kee makes the astounding comment that Paul's research "can be critically examined and compared with other testimony from eyewitnesses of Jesus, just as one would evaluate evidence in a modern court or academic setting." 27

Further, other early creedal witnesses such as those in Acts, the conversion of James the skeptic, the empty tomb and the disciples' transformation all provide support that the disciples were utterly convinced that they had seen the risen Jesus. Additional factors could be mentioned. For example, the centrality of the resurrection message in the early church provided ample opportunity for believers who were prepared to die for the message to repeatedly focus on its truth, but without refutation or recanting, as far as we know. And the Jewish leaders particularly had both a motive and the power to oppose a message that threatened their existence and came up empty-handed.28

No other hypothesis is even a viable rival to the conclusion that the early disciples at least thought that they had witnessed Jesus' appearances after he had died. But can we somehow move from the recognized historical fact that the disciples believed this to their actually having seen the risen Jesus? To make this move could well be the most crucial aspect of an historical argument for Jesus' resurrection appearances.

From conviction to event. Each of the eight reasons above points to the belief that Jesus was seen again after his death. In other words, the claim to which virtually all scholars agree is a visual claim. The disciples were sure that Jesus' person had impinged on their visual field. This is what Paul claimed. Peter agreed. So did Jesus' brother James. Further, the tomb was no longer occupied by his body. As a result, they were changed forever.

Even recent skeptical scholars agree. Koester asserts that "We are on much firmer ground with respect to the appearances of the risen Jesus and their effect." These appearances "cannot very well be questioned."29 Bart Ehrman states that "we can say with complete certainty that some of his disciples at some later time insisted that he soon appeared to them.... Historians, of course, have no difficulty whatsoever speaking about the belief in Jesus' resurrection, since it is a matter of public record. "30Traugott Holtz concludes that the disciples' "experience of resurrection ... is in fact an undeniable historical event. "3' Ltidemann even reminds us that Paul's resurrection language is the language of real sight: "active sensual perception.... Paul is claiming a visual side to the ap- pearance."32 Moreover, Paul was teaching that Jesus appeared in his "transformed spiritual resurrection corporeality."33

It seems clear, then, that Jesus' disciples were utterly convinced that he had appeared to them after his death. It is granted by virtually all critical scholars because the data are extraordinarily strong. But how do we get from the disciples' resurrection conviction to the resurrection event, namely, to real appearances of the risen Jesus?

This may seem like a rather straightforward question, yet it can get a little slippery. Believers presumably would think that they were quite justified in their stance that reasons like those above establish their position. After all, each of the evidences points to a visual event that changed the disciples' lives, which they were utterly convinced was an appearance of their best friend.

Unbelievers would seemingly have to reply by severing the connection between what the disciples thought and what really happened. To do this, they might move in two directions, by indirectly or directly replying to a case like that which we have outlined here.

Initially, perhaps they might try an indirect maneuver by posing vari ous a priori objections34 that, whatever the data, Jesus was simply not raised from the dead. These sorts of miraculous events just do not occur in our world. These philosophical responses take us far beyond our study of the resurrection of Jesus, especially in that such objections are typically not concerned with this event at all. Usually, they make more general inquiries regarding the background information or the nature of the evidence, both areas where the resurrection excels.35

Or, another indirect move is to respond with the agnostic plea that we do not know what occurred. The disciples indeed believed that they saw Jesus, but we cannot determine a cause.

This fence-straddling approach is very difficult to maintain, since one must dodge many factual considerations, when just one might cause the thesis to topple. A few brief and general problems will have to suffice here. (1) The agnostic position smacks of rejecting the possibility of a resurrection before following the evidence to its conclusion or even resenting that the discussion might lead to the truth of Christianity. 36 (2) To assert that we cannot discover a cause for the disciples' faith assumes its own burden of proof. But on what grounds should such an assertion be made?

More crucially, (3) we have plenty of evidence already to decide the case, especially since we used only those data that virtually all critical scholars accept. So critics must not reject or pull up short of the results that are indicated by their own research!37 (4) The objection often does not level complaints against this specific resurrection data, so believers are more than justified in holding their view in light of the many evidences for this event.

Our major methodology is applicable to this agnostic position. Throughout, we have used data that are recognized by virtually all scholars. These same minimal historical facts that even agnostics accept clearly indicate that more than an undefined something occurred to Jesus' disciples. We pointed out above that all the evidence supports a visual claim-the disciples thought they saw Jesus after his death. By failing to account viably for the majority of the recognized facts that even they generally accept, like the eight mentioned above, agnostics miss the cause of the disciples' experiences. But it is insufficient to simply stop there and refuse to investigate further. What they fail to explain may be precisely the data that are capable of establishing the resurrection appearances as the most likely explanation, as pointed out below. As Fuller asserts, what we know "therefore requires that the historian postulate some other event" besides the disciples' faith. We must ascertain "the cause of the Easter faith ... outside of their belief."38

Precisely in order to address directly these facts, the more popular approach through the centuries has been to pose a naturalistic theory to account for the data. Such a move basically attempts to allow for historical facts where the evidence is the strongest, while veering off in a natural direction before getting to the punch line involving the resurrection. Here they need to propose an alternative scenario: `Jesus didn't really rise from the dead. What really happened was (fill in the blank)."

However, this is probably the most difficult method of all. In fact, when faced with this option, the vast majority of critical scholars opt out. They are often well aware that when an option is chosen, the weight of the known historical facts comes crashing down against their proposal. In fact, they are so well aware of this eventuality that only a few attempt it. Even among scholars, it is generally conceded that none of these options work.

For instance, Raymond E. Brown calls these theses "gratuitous charges ."39 Dunn concludes: "alternative interpretations of the data fail to provide a more satisfactory explanation" than the resurrection.40 Davis responds: "All of the alternative hypotheses with which I am familiar are historically weak; some are so weak that they collapse of their own weight once spelled out.... The alternative theories that have been proposed are not only weaker but far weaker at explaining the available historical evidence."41 Robinson notes that "it is indeed very difficult to dismiss [Jesus' appearances] and still find a credible explanation."42

Given that the skeptic would have to account for the disciples being sure that they had seen the risen Jesus, the most popular naturalistic response (although still a real minority rejoinder) is to suggest that they saw hallucinations. A detailed critique is impossible here, but we can provide a list of some of the myriad problems with such a response.43

For example, (1) hallucinations are private experiences, while clearly we have strong reasons to assert that groups of people claimed to have seen Jesus. (2) The disciples' despair indicates that they were not in the proper frame of mind to see hallucinations. (3) Perhaps the most serious problem is that there were far too many different times, places and personalities involved in the appearances. To believe that with each of these varying persons and circumstances a separate hallucination occurred borders on credulity. (4) Further, on this view, Jesus' body should still have been located safely in the tomb! (5) Hallucinations very rarely transform lives, but we have no records of any of the eyewitnesses recanting their faith. Two huge problems are the conversions of both (6) Paul and (7) James, neither of whom had a desire to see Jesus. These are just a very few of the serious questions for this alternative view. All other proposed natural hypotheses have similarly been disproven.44

Now we are ready to state a general principle for moving from the dis ciples' convictions to the historical resurrection appearances. The strong reasons for supporting the disciples' experiences of seeing Jesus, in conjunction with the failure of alternative theses, even by critical standards, indicates that by far the most likely scenario is that the disciples actually saw the risen Jesus. Further, the more thoroughly the natural hypotheses fail, the more likely are the historical resurrection appearances. To state this principle more briefly as a mock mathematical equation: given a reasonable explanation, the disciples' experiences plus the failure of alternatives equals the historical resurrection appearances of Jesus.

This follows because, due to the failure of alternatives, the impressive evidences that make the case for the disciples' experiences as strong as anything in the New Testament now become impressive evidences for the resurrection appearances themselves. In brief, the disciples' experiences are recognized for what they actually were: Jesus' postdeath appearances.

THE UNIQUENESS OF THE DISCIPLES' TRANSFORMATIONS

Today, many have been willing to die for their religious or even political convictions. From communists to Muslims to Christians, we are wellacquainted with examples. However, many throughout history have also propagated false beliefs. What separates Jesus' disciples from these latter cases? Is their transformation in any way unique?

Virtually no one disputes the disciples' radical transformations. Before Jesus died, his followers abandoned and even denied him.45 In contrast, after the resurrection the remainder of their lives were undeniably and radically altered. They were willing to die for their faith, and many were martyred.46 The disciples' metamorphoses are also visible from their eth ics, evangelism and other teachings, reflected throughout the New Testament. Extrabiblical sources, both secular and Christian, also attest to these changes.47

What is responsible for the changes in the disciples? The New Testament is unmistakably clear that Jesus' resurrection appearances were the intervening events, the catalyst between their confusion and exaltation. Critical scholars are in total agreement here. Ben Meyer states it clearly: "That it was the Easter experiences which affected [the disciples] transformation is beyond reasonable doubt."48 Hugo Staudinger agrees: "Only the appearances of Jesus brought about a new change of mood in them."49 N. T. Wright declares: "the first generation of Christians ... announced and celebrated the victory of Jesus over evil.... That was the basis of their remarkable joy."S°

Admittedly, life conversions have happened for untrue causes. But I would assert that there is a qualitative difference between what occurred to the disciples and what we see today. Granted, there is the often-acknowledged precept that those who are willing to die for a cause genuinely believe in it. The disciples did suffer for their belief in a cause, like everyone else. But here the main similarities between the disciples and others stop.

Distinctly unlike the other cases, as we have seen in this chapter, the disciples died for more than being sold out to a cause. They willingly gave their lives precisely because they were absolutely convinced that they had seen the risen Jesus. In short, their transformations were not caused by an ideology, like the others, but their new outlook was expressly based on a personal experience-their profound conviction that they had actually seen the risen Jesus.

Apart from their resurrection experiences, there would have been no transformations, for without this event their faith was vain (1 Cor. 15:14, 17). As Paul argues, they actually saw Jesus (1 Cor 15:1-11), and this is what confirmed their eternal life, for if Jesus was raised, so they would he raised (1 Cor 15:17-20). Death had no more sting for them (1 Cor 15:53-55). Peter similarly but surprisingly declares that because Jesus' resurrection secured heaven, even the serious struggles of life could be faced with rejoicing (1 Pet 1:3-7).

Think about it. If your eternity depended on Jesus being raised from the dead, which would you rather have-a strong conviction or your actually having seen the risen Jesus along with an even stronger conviction precisely because you did so? In other words, which circumstance would carry a greater conviction: your being convinced centuries later that you ought to follow someone's teachings, or simply the knowledge that you actually had been with that same person last night, however unusual the particulars? Now can you imagine the disciples' joy when they saw Jesus alive-face to face, gazing straight into his eyes? In that moment when they saw Jesus, heaven entered earth's realm and eternity burst upon them. After all, what is a resurrection appearance of Jesus? When the disciples saw the risen Jesus, they saw walking, talking, eternal life! No wonder they were assured of heaven!''

So here is the chief difference between Jesus' disciples and others who hold religious convictions. In addition to their fortified convictions, the disciples had an evidenced experience that no one else ever has, before or since.' They saw heaven in the person of Jesus Christ. And al though believers today have not seen Jesus (1 Pet 1:8), we have the next best thing-very powerful evidence that the disciples did!

CONCLUSION

I contend that the most crucial aspect of an argument for the historicity of Jesus' resurrection is that the disciples were totally convinced that they had seen appearances of the risen Jesus. The community of critical scholars holds that these experiences are thoroughly historical. These same scholars nearly always recognize that natural alternative responses do not explain the data. Therefore, the impressive evidences that establish the disciples' experiences, especially in light of the failure of these alternatives, now become impressive evidences for the resurrection appearances themselves.

Further, that these appearances were the reason for the disciples' transformations separates them from other religious and political metamorphoses. That the disciples actually saw the risen Jesus bases their convictions of heaven on their foretaste of that reality, which they had personally witnessed. Excitingly, although they have not seen the resurrected Jesus, believers today have the next best thing-very powerful evidence that the disciples did! The argument is firm and heaven still follows!

FOR FURTHER READING

Craig, William Lane, and John Dominic Crossan. Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up? Edited by Paul Copan. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1998.

Craig, William Lane, and Gerd Ltidemann.,Jesus' Resurrection: Fact or Figment? Edited by Paul Copan and Ronald Tacelli. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2000.

Habermas, Gary R. The Risen Jesus and Future Hope. Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2003.

The Historical Jesus: Ancient Evidence for the Life of Christ. Rev. ed. Joplin, Mo.: College Press, 1996.

Habermas, Gary R., and Michael Licona. The Case for the Resurrection of Jesus. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Kregel, 2004.

Wright, N. T. The Resurrection of the Son of God. Vol. 3 of Christian Origins and the Question oi'God. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003.

THE STRUCTURE. OF THIS BOOK FOLLOWS A VERY CAREFULLY CRAFTED FROGRES- sion of ideas. In part 1 we tackled the whole question of faith and reason in order to defend the very practice of apologetics. Having given a rationale and some practical advice for its employment, parts 2 and 3 took on the task of providing a defense of the existence of God and the truth of Christianity. Again, the order is important. If monotheism is true, then it is clearly possible that God could perform miracles in human history and reveal himself in ways consistent with his reality as known from the creation itself and the arguments for his existence. So understood, the arguments of part 2 do not merely provide grounds for God's reality; they also provide some information about his nature (that he is wise, intelligent, good, powerful and excellent in all ways appropriate to being a person). Part 3 captured the search to see if God has in fact revealed himself in a special way, and the case for the New Testament's depiction of Christ and the credibility of miracles, especially the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, constitute the appropriate end of that search.

However, no case is complete if it considers only evidence in its favor, and the case for the Christian worldview is no exception to this rule. So in parts 4 and 5, we provide a statement and response to some important philosophical, cultural and religious challenges frequently raised against Christianity or aspects of the Christian worldview. In this section, the focus is on philosophical and cultural challenges.

Chapter twelve jumps into the fire and addresses the most frequently raised objection to the Christian faith-the problem of evil. Ronald Nash begins his chapter on the problem of evil by admitting that most people see the problem as the most serious intellectual challenge for the Christian faith. According to Nash, there are times when the religious believer must assume the burden of proof, as when for example it might appear that a Christian has to offer arguments for the existence of God. In the case of the problem of evil, however, this clearly is a situation where opponents of Christianity have the obligation to offer arguments against the existence of God. Since the burden of proof in this case lies with the anti-theist, Nash argues, one task of the believer is to show that the existence of evil does not undermine the rationality of belief in God. As he does in many writings, Nash uses a worldview approach to deal with the problem of evil. After all, the problem of evil arises out of major elements of the Christian's approach to God. But the Christian worldview has more than enough resources to blunt the anti-theist's development of the theoretical problem of evil and the Christian's challenge to deal with the personal problem of evil.

A Christian worldview includes an immaterialist view of reality in this sense-God, angels (good and bad), and animal and human souls are spiritual and not physical realities. More specifically, the human being is made in the image of God, and this doctrine includes the immaterial nature of the human person so constituted in that image. And the Christian view of the afterlife requires a soul that survives in a disembodied intermediate state between death and the final resurrection. Yet today it is widely thought that belief in an immaterial soul has been scientifically discredited and a physicalist view of human beings is the only reasonable position. After clarifying some important concepts, in chapter thirteen J. P. Moreland presents arguments for the claim that both consciousness and the soul that contains it are immaterial, spiritual realities and not physical.

In chapter fourteen, Douglas Groothuis takes up the crucial topic of the existence and nature of truth, the value of logic and the postmodern challenge to these notions. Groothuis provides a skillful and timely critique of the basic ideas of secular postmodernism regarding truth, logic and language. He argues that these notions are generally hostile to the Christian worldview as well as intrinsically illogical and should be critiqued as part of the task of Christian apologetics. According to Groothuis, postmodernism has little if anything of value to offer Christian witness in the contemporary world.

While chapters twelve through fourteen respond to philosophical challenges to Christianity, chapters fifteen and sixteen turn to an examination of cultural challenges. In chapter fifteen, theologian Michael Bauman examines the concern that is often raised against Christians who seek to shape and influence our public life by suggesting policies and laws that take a particular moral point of view. It is usually expressed in the form of the crude assertion: you can't legislate morality! Bauman responds that it is not only permissible but that it is inescapable, that no matter which way the law goes it will legislate someone's moral point of view. Furthermore, those laws, for good or for ill, will help shape the character of the people under their authority.

Finally, in chapter sixteen, philosopher and legal scholar Francis Beckwith responds to what may be the most ferocious cultural attack currently waged against theism, namely, the attempt to silence critics of evolutionary theory in the public schools who sometimes argue for some sort of intelligent Design (ID) theory of origins. Beckwith argues that it would not violate the U.S. Constitution if a school board or legislature either allowed or prescribed the teaching of ID, or nonreligious criticisms of evolution, in its public school science classrooms.

THE MOST SERIOUS INTELLECTUAL OBSTACLE THAT STANDS BETWEEN MANY PEOple and religious faith is the problem of evil. Because of the complexity of issues that make up this problem, I will devote a considerable part of the space available to me providing a map of the terrain through which thoughtful people must journey in their quest for some kind of plausible answer. The reason many people never find their way through this terrain is their failure to spend time preparing for the journey. The first step in this process, I believe, is getting oriented to worldview thinking.

WORLDVIEW THINKING

Whether we know it or not-whether we like it or not-each of us has a worldview. These worldviews function as interpretive conceptual schemes to explain why we see the world as we do, why we often think and act as we do. Competing worldviews often come into conflict. These clashes may be as innocuous as a simple argument between people or as serious as a war between two nations.

In its simplest terms, a worldview is a set of beliefs about the most important issues in life. The philosophical systems of great thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle were worldviews. Every mature rational human being, each reader of this book, has his or her own worldview just as surely as Plato did. It seems sometimes that few have any idea what that worldview is or even that they have one. Yet achieving awareness of our worldview is one of the most important things we can do to enhance self-understanding. Insight into the worldviews of others is essential to an understanding of what makes them tick.

Implicit in all this is the additional point that these worldview beliefs should be logically consistent. A fancy term that can he useful here is conceptual system, by which I mean a pattern or arrangement of concepts (ideas). A worldview, then, is a conceptual system by which we consciously or unconsciously place or fit everything we believe and by which we interpret and judge reality.

Worldviews are double-edged swords. An inadequate conceptual system can, like improper eyeglasses, hinder our efforts to understand God, the world and ourselves. The right conceptual system can suddenly bring everything into proper focus. But the choice among competing worldviews involves a number of difficult questions. Because my own worldview is Christian theism, it will be convenient for me to illustrate several points in terms of my Christian commitment. That also seems fair since the religious worldview that is often thought to be compromised by the problem of evil is Christianity.

VIEWING CHRISTIANITY AS A WORLDVIEW

As Francis J. Beckwith pointed out in this book's introduction, instead of thinking of Christianity as a collection of theological bits and pieces to be believed or debated, Christians should approach their faith as a conceptual system, as a total world-and-life view. Naturally, this is true of any competing worldview be it one of the major theistic systems such as Judaism and Islam or a nontheistic religion such as Buddhism or Shinto or an antireligious system such as naturalism.' Once people understand that both Christianity and its adversaries in the world of ideas are worldviews, they will be in a better position to judge the relative merits of the total Christian system.'

The case for or against Christian theism should he made and evaluated in terms of total systems. Christianity is not simply a religion that tells humans how they may be forgiven, however important this information is. Christianity is also a total world-and-life view. The Christian faith has important things to say about the whole of human life. Once Christians understand in a systematic way how the options to Christianity are also worldviews, they will be in a better position to justify their choice of Christianity rationally. The reason many people reject Christianity is not due to their problems with one or two isolated issues; it is the result of their anti-Christian conceptual system, which leads them to reject information and arguments that for believers provide support for the Christian worldview. Every worldview has questions it appears unable to answer satisfactorily. One might wish that all Christians were able effectively to defend their faith; therefore, our important task is to equip ourselves so that we are able to show detractors that the Christian worldview is superior rationally, morally and existentially3 to any alternative system.

Still another reason for spending a little time unpacking elements of the Christian worldview is the fact that Christians should be faithful to what their worldview teaches about the problem of evil. When tempted to abandon their worldview, they need to understand the nature of the competing worldviews they might have to consider as a replacement for their current worldview.

THE MAJOR ELEMENTS OF A WORLDVIEW

A well-rounded worldview includes beliefs in at least five major areas: God, ultimate reality (metaphysics), knowledge (epistemology), ethics and humankind. My need to be brief allows me time to discuss only the first of these areas, God. Of course, the existence and nature of God are linked essentially to the major issue of this chapter, the problem of evil.

The existence and nature of God. The most important element of any worldview is what it says or does not say about God. Worldviews differ greatly on this matter. Does God exist? What is the nature of God? Is there only one true God? Is God a personal being, that is, is God the kind of being who can know, love and act? Or is God an impersonal force or power? Because of conflicting views about the nature of God, such systems as Buddhism, Hinduism, Shintoism and Zoroastrianism are not only different religions, they embrace different worldviews. Because Christianity, Judaism and Islam are examples of theism, conservative adherents of these religions hold to worldviews that have more in common than they do with dualistic, polytheistic and pantheistic systems.'

The Christian worldview is theistic in the sense that it believes in the existence of one supremely powerful and personal God. Theism differs from polytheism in its affirmation that there is only one God (Dent 6:4). It parts company with the various forms of pantheism by insisting that God is personal and must not be confused with the world that is his creation. Theism must also be distinguished from panentheism, the position that regards the world as an eternal being that God needs in much the same way a human soul needs a body. Theists also reject panentheistic attempts to limit God's power and knowledge, which have the effect of making the God of panentheism a finite being." Other important attributes of God, such as his holiness, justice and love, are described in Scripture. Historical Christian theism is also trinitarian. The doctrine of the Trinity reflects the Christian conviction that the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are three distinct centers of consciousness sharing fully in the one divine nature and in the activities of the other persons of the Trinity.

What is the problem of evil? The problem of evil is grounded on the fact that a number of related and essential beliefs about God appear to be incompatible with the evil we encounter in the world. Christians believe that God is totally good (omnibenevolent), all-knowing (omniscient) and all-powerful (omnipotent). Christians also believe that God created the world. The difficulties that these beliefs seem to engender with respect to evil look like this:

If God is good and loves all human beings, it is reasonable to believe that he wants to deliver the creatures he loves from evil and suffering.

If God is all-knowing, it is reasonable to believe that he knows how to deliver his creatures from evil and suffering.

If God is all-powerful, it is reasonable to believe that he is able to deliver his creatures from evil and suffering.

Given these claims, it seems to follow that God wants to eliminate evil, that God knows how to eliminate evil, and that God has the power to eliminate evil. But evil exists. In fact, great amounts of evil exist. Indeed, great amounts of apparently senseless and purposeless evil seem to exist. It seems reasonable to believe that God doesn't want to eliminate evil (thus casting doubt on his goodness) or doesn't know how to eliminate evil (raising questions about his knowledge) or lacks the power. In short, the existence of evil seems inconsistent with our belief in God's goodness or omniscience or power. Troubled by their reflection on these difficulties, many have found it easy to take the additional step and conclude that the existence of evil in the world makes it unlikely that God exists.

Thinking Christians appear to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. They cannot deny any of the factors that make up the problem of evil. They can hardly deny that the world God created contains large amounts of evil, much of it apparently gratuitous or meaningless. But as theists, these Christians must affirm their belief that this world with all its evil was created by a good, loving, omnipotent and omniscient God. The challenge for theists is to show that the existence of the evils we find in this world fit or are consistent with the Christian view of God and the world. In other words, we must explain how the conceptual system that is the Christian worldview is consistent with the evil we find in the world.

Two KINDS OF EVIL

A good place to begin our downsizing of the problem of evil is rec ognizing the difference between two kinds of evil: moral evil and natural evil. Moral evil results from the choices and actions of human beings. When the question why is asked about some moral evil, the answer will include a reference to something that humans did or did not do. Moral evil sometimes results when humans act, for example, by shooting a gun. But moral evil may also occur as a result of human inaction. Perhaps someone could have prevented the person from getting the gun and didn't. So moral evil is evil brought about by human choices and actions; any other kind of evil is what we call natural evil. The class of natural evils includes such things as earthquakes, tornadoes and diseases not resulting from human choices. Many wise people believe the two types of evil require different kinds of answers.

THE THEORETICAL VERSUS THE PERSONAL PROBLEM OF EVIL

It is one thing to deal with evil on a purely theoretical or philosophical level. It can be something quite different to encounter evil in a personal way. Sitting in a philosophy classroom and thinking about the problem of evil is obviously different from struggling with the news that a loved one has just died in an automobile accident. At the moment when one is being hammered existentially by some particular instance of evil, it is easy to forget that some philosophical argument once seemed to suggest answers as to why evil exists. When someone is troubled by aspects of the theoretical or philosophical problem of evil, the assistance of a good philosopher or apologist may help. But when we are confronted by the personal problem of evil, what we may need is a wise and caring friend, pastor or counselor.

The distinction between the theoretical and personal problems of evil is relevant to events in the life of the Christian writer C. S. Lewis. One of Lewis's more influential books, The Problem of Pain, offers his answers to the theoretical problem of evil. I am one of many who believe there are some very good arguments in that book. However, after Lewis met and then married joy Gresham, he learned the painful truth about the personal problem of evil. His wife's eventual death from cancer after a long period of suffering plunged Lewis into a time of doubt and depression. Now he was confronted by the personal problem of evil, and the philosophical arguments in his earlier book seemed to offer little help. After joy's death, Lewis wrote a significantly different book titled A Grief Observed. It and The Problem of Pain should be read together to show what different steps must be taken to deal with both facets of the problem of evil.

EVIL AND Two ALTERNATIVES TO THE CHRISTIAN WORLDVIEW

The problems that Christians appear to have with the evil in God's creation are supposed to drive Christians to abandon belief in the Christian God and turn to a different religious worldview such as dualism, pantheism or panentheism, or to an antireligious, materialistic and atheistic worldview known as naturalism. Limitations of space and time make it necessary to focus on only two of these alternatives, namely, religious dualism and metaphysical naturalism.

Religious dualism. Religious dualism is a very old alternative to the Christian view of evil. In place of the one good God of historic Christian theism, many people have tried to explain evil in terms of two gods or supreme beings, one good and the other evil. According to this dualistic worldview, the good god (thought of in terms of Light) and the evil god (Darkness) are coeternal and coequal in power. Neither can defeat the other. The battle between Good and Evil has already been going on forever and will continue forever into the future.

Variations of this view can be found in the ancient Persian religion known as Zoroastrianism. Advocates of this religion can still be found in some areas of present-day Iran. Another manifestation of this kind of dualism occurred in a religious sect known as Manichaeanism. Augustine of North Africa held this view before his eventual conversion to Christianity. Large numbers of people in contemporary Christendom have been bitten by the dualistic bug. It should be noted that the being that Christians call Satan or the devil is not a party to this kind of dualism. Scripture clearly teaches that Satan is a created being and not an eternal god whose power matches that of the Christian God.

There is a short, clear and powerful refutation of the kind of dualism I have described. I will develop the argument in three steps.

Step 1: How do we know which God is the good one? Religious dualism can be challenged by asking people how they know which of their two gods is the good one. Of course, most people will reply that the god who encourages humans to kill, steal, rape, lie and so on, is the evil god. And, they will assure us, the god who commands us to love, tell the truth, protect the innocent and so on, is the good god. But what is the ground for such claims? Perhaps the god who commands us to kill, steal and rape is the good god. One way to avoid absurdities like this is to appeal to a standard that is higher or more ultimate than the gods of Light and Darkness. Only if such a standard exists can we identify which of the two gods is the good one.

Step 2: What is the content of the absolute standard? Unless there is an absolute and objective standard by which we can judge dualism's two candidates for god, there is no definitive way for humans to know which god is the good one. But there seem to be two possibilities: the ultimate standard might be Absolute Goodness or it might be Absolute Evil. Are there compelling reasons that tip the scales in favor of one of these two options? According to Lewis, there is a persuasive argument in favor of the view that the ultimate standard in such a case must be Good rather than Evil. Lewis argues that evil is always parasitic upon the good. As we know, a parasite is an organism that survives by living in or off of a host organism while contributing nothing to the survival of the host. Two examples of parasites are tapeworms and mistletoe.

In order for a parasite to grow and survive, it must prey upon a healthy organism. The parasite needs its host; the host is not dependent upon the parasite. Following this analogy, Lewis states that the Good is primary and Evil is always a corruption of some prior good. It would be odd to contend that the healthy human body is the parasite and the tapeworm is the host. In the conflict between Good and Evil, Goodness is prior, and Evil is the corruption of the Good. And so, Lewis contends, when we seek the ultimate standard to judge whether Light or Darkness is the good god, that standard must be the Absolute Good.

Step 3: Bad news for dualism. And so, we learn that dualism requires an appeal to one, monistic principle; without such an ultimate principle, we could never know which god is the good one. We also learn that the one, ultimate, monistic principle is Good. And once we recognize that there must he one ultimate Good that stands over the finite gods of Light and Darkness, it follows that neither of dualism's two gods can be God. Proper reflection about the two deities of dualism leads us to the existence of one absolutely good Being. To rescue dualism from absurdity, we must become believers in one good God. Since dualism turns out to he a logically self-defeating position, it obviously offers no help at all in human efforts to resolve the problem of evil.

AN ANTIRELIGIOUS ALTERNATIVE TO CHRISTIAN THEISM: NATURALISM

For much of the twentieth century, the worldview of naturalism has been the major antagonist of the Christian faith in nations like the United States. There is little doubt that naturalism is the preferred worldview of many who seek to use the problem of evil as a defeater7 for the Christian worldview.

The central claim of metaphysical naturalism is that nothing exists outside the material, mechanistic (that is, nonpurposeful), natural order. My discussion will focus on naturalists who are what we call physicalists, people who insist that everything that exists can be reduced to physical or material entities. A naturalist believes that the physical universe is the sum total of all that is. In the famous words of Carl Sagan (1934-1996), "The universe is all that is, or ever was, or ever will be."

For a naturalist, the universe is analogous to a sealed box. Everything that happens inside the box (the natural order) is caused by or is explicable in terms of other things that exist within the box. Nothing, includ ing God, exists outside the box; therefore, nothing outside the box that we call the universe or cosmos or nature can have any causal effect within the box.

Philosopher Bertrand Russel summarized his view of naturalism in the following words:

Brief and powerless is Man's life; on him and all his race the slow, sure doom falls pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way; for Man, condemned today to lose his dearest tomorrow, himself to pass through the gate of darkness, it remains only to cherish, ere yet the blow falls, the lofty thoughts that ennoble his little clay.8

Naturalism and the Christian faith are natural opponents in the world of ideas. If one of them is true, the other must be false. Some people reject the Christian faith because they make a religious commitment to naturalism9 and then find any further interest in Christianity logically impossible. Other people begin by rejecting Christianity for one reason or another and then naturally gravitate to naturalism.

Naturalism, good and evil. There is an obvious reason why naturalists do not believe in any objective good. Their worldview will not allow them to. "Good" and "evil" in a naturalistic universe cannot possibly refer to anything transcendent, anything that has standing outside of the box, the natural order of things. For this reason, many naturalists simply assert that what we call good and evil are merely subjective preferences. Other naturalists balk at this extreme view and find other grounds for treating good and evil as relative.

Few naturalists seem to realize how their relativistic approach to good and evil disqualifies them from being proponents of the problem of evil. Whenever they seek to raise problems for Christians by pointing to this or that instance of evil, they do so in terms that are not consistent with their naturalistic and relativistic understanding of things. For a naturalist, there cannot be any real, objective, transcendent standards of good and evil. The Christian worldview allows Christians to recognize the existence of real goods and real evils. The naturalistic worldview does not.

Even if Christians have their difficulties with the problem of evil, it ought to be obvious to fair witnesses of the debate that naturalists have difficulties with what could be called "the problem of goodness." Imagine yourself in Bertrand Russell's world. The cosmos is a closed box. The physical universe is all that exists. Outside the box, nothing exists-no God, no transcendent truths, no transcendent standards of good and evil, in other words, nothing! Here is another description of Russell's view of the world:

That man is the product of causes which had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and his beliefs are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms; that no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling, can preserve an individual life beyond the grave; that all the labours of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system, and the whole temple of Man's achievement must inevitably be buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruins-all these things, if not quite beyond dispute, are yet so nearly certain, that no philosophy which rejects them can hope to stand. Only within the scaffolding of these truths, only on the firm foundation of the unyielding despair, can the soul's habitation henceforth be safely built.10

The Christian worldview provides a ground both for the existence of real goodness as well as for real evils. Naturalism can do neither.

Two VERSIONS OF THE PROBLEM OF EVIL

Two major versions of the problem of evil exist.

The deductive version. What is often called the deductive version of the problem of evil aims to show that the existence of evil is logically inconsistent with one or more major tenets of the Christian faith. Proponents of the deductive version claim that a logical contradiction lurks at the very core of Christian theism. In a 1955 article, the British philosopher J. L. Mackie, at the time an advocate of this position, wrote, "It can be shown not that religious beliefs lack rational support, but that they are positively irrational, that the several parts of the essential theological doctrine are inconsistent with one another."" Since a contradictory set of beliefs is necessarily false, the deductive version of the problem of evil would-if sound-pose the most serious threat possible to Christian theism. It would mean that Christianity is not just possibly false, but necessarily false. Things can't get much worse than that.

The problem arises because of a supposed contradiction that lies in the following six propositions:

1. God exists.

2. God is omnipotent.

3. God is omniscient.

4. God is omnibenevolent.

5. God created the world.

6. The world contains evil.

Obviously this list lacks two contradictory propositions. While the list contains the proposition the world contains evil, the proponent of the deductive problem of evil must find a way to demonstrate that propositions 1 through 5 entail the claim that the world does not contain evil. That would then produce the desired contradiction, namely, the conjunction of The world contains evil and The world does not contain evil. In other words, the advocate of the deductive version must find a way to get from propositions 1 through 5 to a new proposition, namely,

7. The world does not contain evil.

If this can be done, then our set of Christian beliefs (1-7) would indeed have a problem; the set would be logically inconsistent and thus necessarily false.

However, in order to make their case, the critics must find another proposition that in conjunction with statements 1 through 5 would imply proposition 7, the claim that the world does not contain evil. Only by supplying such a missing premise would the alleged contradiction become evident. While proponents of the deductive problem of evil tried every move possible, none of them succeeded. The new propositions they offered to educe the sought-for contradiction failed either because they were not true or because they were not claims that Christians embrace. For example, some anti-theists offered as the missing premise the claim that an omnipotent being can do absolutely anything, believing that when this proposition was added to our original list, it would entail proposition seven, the claim that the world does not contain evil. In this way, they sought to generate the contradiction that would presumably demonstrate that Christian theism does contain a logical inconsistency at its core.

But there was a major catch to this move. The claim that God can do absolutely anything is not true. Informed Christians have always recognized that an omnipotent being cannot do lots of things. For example, even the Bible declares that God cannot lie or swear by a being greater than himself. The end result of all the hoopla over the alleged contradiction existing at the heart of the Christian faith turned out this way: no proponent of the deductive problem of evil ever succeeded in supplying the missing proposition needed to reveal the presumed 12

Obviously, it is one thing to demonstrate that no one has discovered the required missing premise up to this point. But what about the future? Philosopher Alvin Plantinga has provided a procedure by which Christians can demonstrate the logical consistency of their set of beliefs.'3This information demonstrates that no philosopher can ever do this in the future.

All that is required to prove our list of propositions is logically consistent (and thus forever immune to the possibility of being shown to be inconsistent) is to add a new proposition that is logically possible, which means simply that it does not describe a contradictory state of affairs. The new proposition must be consistent with the other propositions in the list, and, in conjunction with the other propositions, it must entail that evil ex ists in the world. Plantinga's proposition is the claim that God creates a world that now contains evil and has a good reason for doing so.

Telescoping our earlier list to save space, our new list of Christian beliefs looks like this:

1. God exists, is omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent, and created the world.

2. God created a world that now contains evil and had a good reason for doing so.

3. Therefore, the world contains evil.

Numbers 1 and 2 taken together do, of course, entail 3. Therefore, the propositions from our original list of Christian beliefs that now appear in number 1 are logically consistent with the existence of evil. The only relevant question regarding proposition 2 is whether it is possibly true. Obviously it is, since it is not logically false (is not a contradiction). Therefore, our original list of Christian beliefs is shown to be logically consistent, from which it follows that the deductive problem of evil has been answered. The existence of evil in the world cannot be used to demonstrate a logical inconsistency at the heart of the Christian faith.

My discussion of the deductive problem of evil has of necessity skipped over a number of details, some of them technical in nature. The interested reader is advised to examine these details in other publications, which are readily available.14 But the point is clear. The existence of evil in the world does not create a logical problem for the Christian. Of course, it may still raise other sorts of problems, some of which will appear in the rest of this chapter. It is important to note that even Mackie, one of the fathers of the deductive problem of evil, conceded that his earlier position "does not, after all, show that the central doctrines of theism are logically inconsistent with one another." 15 Philosopher William Rowe, a frequent critic of Christian theism, admits, "Some philosophers have contended that the existence of evil is logically inconsistent with the existence of the theistic God. No one, I think, has succeeded in establishing such an extravagant claim. Indeed, there is a fairly compelling argument for the view that the existence of evil is logically consistent with the theistic God. "16

We may ask, "But why did God permit evil?" However, the relevant issue here is that such a reason need not be known or produced for the argument of this section of the chapter to succeed. The rules of modem logic make the strategy of this argument successful, whether or not we can identify God's reason. The point at the moment is that the claim that God has a reason for creating a world that now contains evil is logically possible. Since it is, the argument succeeds and the attempt to locate a contradiction at the heart of Christian theism fails.

As a final observation, we should note once again that nothing significant follows from the fact that Christians may admit they don't know God's reason for permitting evil. Some opponents of theism act as though such an admission implies that there is no reason. This hardly follows. In fact, all one could reasonably infer from the admission is that the Christian in question does not know everything. But that is hardly surprising news.

The inductive version. The shortcomings of the deductive problem of evil do not mean that opponents of Christian theism have given up on the problem of evil. It simply means that they have turned to a different way of formulating the problem. The move from the justly discredited deductive to an inductive form of the problem of evil is a shift from the strong claim that theism is logically and necessarily false to the more modest assertion that it is probably false. According to advocates of the inductive problem of evil, evil tips the scales of probability against theism; the existence of evil makes theistic belief improbable.

Most attempts to answer the inductive problem of evil are variations on one basic theme, namely, that God permits evil either to make possible some greater good or to avoid some greater evil. God, it is claimed, always has some reason for allowing evil. An instance of evil might be a test to strengthen character or punishment for some previous act of moral evil. What does seem likely is that no human knows what God's reason might be for any specific instance of evil.

The need to cover other subjects makes it necessary to cut off this discussion while there is still more to say.'7 For the next few pages, I will examine what appears to be the most powerful version of the inductive problem of evil, what many call the problem of gratuitous evil.

What if the world contains gratuitous evil, that is, truly senseless, mindless, irrational and meaningless evil? If this is so, the appeal to greater good would collapse and with it, apparently, would also fall the claim that God permits evil because it is a necessary condition for some greater good or the avoidance of some greater evil.

One version of the problem of gratuitous evil proceeds in the following way:

1. If God exists, then all evil has a justifying reason.

2. But it is not the case that all evil has a justifying reason.18

3. Therefore, God does not exist.

What can we say about this argument? To begin with, it is certainly valid; it conforms to the rules of formal logic. If the premises are true, then the conclusion is certainly true. But are the premises true? Suppose for now we concentrate only on the second premise, the claim that not all evil has a justifying reason. Several questions come to mind. For one thing, how can the critic of Christian theism know that premise 2 is true? And to get right to the heart of the matter, how could any human being know that gratuitous evil exists? Any sensitive and observant person must admit that many evils in the world appear to be gratuitous: accidents that strike people down in the prime of life, diseases that result in long periods of horrible suffering, birth defects, natural disasters that can suddenly kill hundreds of people and destroy the lives of survivors. But given the limitations of human knowledge, it is hard to see how any human being could actually know that some particular evil is totally senseless and purposeless. It seems, then, that the most any human can know is that some evils appear gratuitous. But of course such a claim in the place of premise 2 would not entail the conclusion that God does not exist.

Philosopher Jane Mary Trau has provided a different formulation of the problem of gratuitous evil. She writes:

It seems that unless it can be shown that all cases of apparent gratuitous suffering are in fact not purposeless, it is most reasonable to believe that they are as they appear to be; and since it cannot be shown that they are in fact not purposeless, it is reasonable to believe that they are as they appear to he; since there appear to be such cases, it is more reasonable to believe that God does not exist.19

While this is an interesting argument, it raises at least two questions. The first and less serious question concerns the placement of the burden of proof in this matter. How did the theist suddenly get stuck with the burden of proof? After all, he was simply minding his own business as he went about the task of believing in God and living in the world. Suddenly he is told that unless he (the theist) can show that none of the evils in the world are gratuitous, belief in the existence of God must be judged to be unreasonable. But, we should remember, it is the atheist who is attempting to prove that God does not exist; in this case, the atheist is attempting to make his case for the nonexistence of God by pointing to the existence of gratuitous evil. Since the atheist is issuing the challenge, should not the burden of proof rest on his shoulders? Should not the atheist be the one required to show that there is gratuitous evil in the world? My point, of course, is that the atheist knows fully well that no human being can show that there is gratuitous evil in the world. So he simply adopts an attitude of philosophical imperialism, throws down the gauntlet and adds in passing, "By the way, I thought you should know that you also have the burden of proof in this matter." I am not trying to defend theism by default in the last paragraph. I am simply pointing out that it is not at all clear that the theist has the burden of proof in this matter.

But Trau's argument, as stated, suffers from still another problem, as she points out. The second premise of the argument involves an appeal to ignorance, a common logical fallacy. Simply because the theist cannot prove that all evils in the world are not gratuitous, it hardly follows that some of them are. Indeed, Trau goes on to say,

The most reasonable position to hold appears to be this: we cannot explain cases of apparently gratuitous suffering until we know whether or not they are indeed gratuitous. And this we can never claim unless we are sure as to the ontological status of God. Since we cannot prove or disprove His non-existence [via the argument from gratuitous evil], we must first prove or disprove His existence. Until that is accomplished we cannot know whether there are such cases.20

According to Trau, the one sure way of showing that the world does contain gratuitous evils is to prove that God does not exist. But it would then seem to follow that one cannot appeal to gratuitous evils while arguing against the existence of God-unless, that is, one is unconcerned about begging the question.

One final point is worth noting: what properties must a being possess in order to know that some evils really are gratuitous? It certainly appears as though one such property must be omniscience. It would seem then that the only kind of being who could know whether some gratuitous evils exist would be God. But if the only being who could know whether such evils exist is God, there surely are problems in arguing that the existence of gratuitous evils are a defeater for the existence of God.

THE CHRISTIAN WORLDVIEW AND EVIL

It is important to remember that the worldviews of millions of people deny the existence of evil, that affirm that such evils as pain and death are illusory. This is the case with non-Christian forms of pantheism as well as the bizarre theories of the American-born system known as Christian Science. Surely, fair people will agree that Christian theism deserves credit for not running away from the problem of evil. The remaining pages of this chapter offer some final observations about evil from the perspective of the Christian worldview.

Two kinds ofgoocL The best way I know how to make the distinction before us is to use the terms transcendent good and nontranscendent good. I define a transcendent good as that good than which a greater good cannot be conceived. From the perspective of the Christian worldview, there can be no greater good than eternal fellowship with the God who made us, loves us and redeems us through the salvific work of Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God. It should not be difficult to see that all other goods that humans seek are nontranscendent.

Two kinds of evil. Using the same terminology, then, we can think about transcendent and nontranscendent evils. Suppose we define a transcendent evil as that evil than which a greater evil cannot he conceived. From the perspective of the Christian worldview, that kind of transcendent evil would be losing one's soul and being forever separated from the source of love, righteousness and goodness of the God who created us and the universe in which we live. As horrible as many evils in the history of the world have been, the biblical worldview tells us that there is one transcendent evil that makes all other evils nontranscendent.

Romans 8:28. People who regard themselves as Christians ought to seek a better understanding of their worldview. That understanding requires them to know what their ultimate rule of faith and practice, the Christian Scriptures, have to say about their worldview. And finally they need to show that they have the strength to put the beliefs they profess into practice. One important passage in the New Testament that speaks to this point is Romans 8:28: "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose .,,21

Many of us know people who believe the verse reads like this: "All things work together for good, period." And because of this error, millions of people mistakenly think the promise in this verse applies to them. But the proper audience for this verse is the large company of people who not only love God but who are called according to God's own purpose. The full understanding of who these people are requires a fairly competent grasp of the entire New Testament.

One more comment is needed. Does Romans 8:28 promise that everything works for good during the earthly existence of the people who are described in the latter part of the verse? Many competent expositors of the text think not. They believe the text reports that all things work together for good when viewed from the perspective of eternity. Then and only then, they suggest, will believers fully recognize how the trials and travail of the Christian pilgrimage in this life have worked together for good.

Romans 8:18. I trust it is clear that all I am doing here is explaining important teachings of the worldview that millions of people believe. It is worth remembering that this is the same worldview that most proponents of the problem of evil hope to show unreasonable. A companion text to Romans 8:28 is Romans 8:18, which says, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Here the apostle Paul acknowledges the pain, grief and suffering that often afflict believers in this life. He implies that a day will come when believers can look back and say, "That was a really tough time in the life of my family. We cried a lot. We miss those who died before us. Those things really hurt. But when I am finally in the presence of the God who has always loved me, that earlier suffering just cannot be compared with the glory of what God has prepared for me."

Paul's points can be expressed in terms of my earlier distinctions between transcendent and nontranscendent goods and evils. Is he not saying that all of the sufferings he experienced, which finally ended in his being stoned to death, were nontranscendent evils? And when finally compared to his ultimate standing in the presence of the triune God, when he attains that transcendent good than which no greater good can be conceived, he will know that all things did work for good.

CONCLUSION

Do I believe that I have answered the problem of evil? I know better than to think I could or should do this for everyone. I began this chapter by noting that every reader will approach this issue from the perspective of a worldview, many of which are incomplete, confused and incoherent. I explained my worldview and pointed out that many opponents of my worldview think the problem of evil is its greatest challenge. While I have admitted that I know no one who can explain every evil that occurs, it seems unreasonable to demand that people who share my worldview be able to do this. It is one thing to attack a worldview; it is far more demanding to offer a competing worldview such as naturalism or dualism or pantheism or panentheism that answers more questions and leaves fewer questions unanswered than the worldview of the Christian faith.

FOR FURTHER READING

Clark, Kelly James. Return to Reason. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1990.

Geisler, Norman L. The Roots of Evil. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1978.

Nash, Ronald H. Faith and Reason. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondeivan, 1988.

. Lifes Ultimate Questions: An Introduction to Philosophy. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondeivan, 1999.

Plantinga, Alvin. God, Freedom and Evil. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1974.

Purtill, Richard L. Reason to Believe. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1974.

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