Pages: 142
Publisher: Intervarsity Press
Year: 1982 (2008)
Author: Peter Kreeft
I believe this is the first major Socratic dialogue Kreeft published (1982) and, unlike the others published by Intervarsity Press, does not feature Socrates as the central character. But, instead, feature Lewis as the main character. Between Heaven and Hell is a dialogue between Christian author and apologist C.S. Lewis, American President John F. Kennedy and English author Aldous Huxley.
While the original was published in 1982, a revised edition was published in 2008 — the edition I own — and includes an Appendix (A World Without an Easter) and outline of the book. However as far as I know, the main text has not been altered between the two editions.
The basic premise of the book is described on the back cover:
On November 22nd, 1963, three great men died within a few hours of each other: C.S. Lewis, John F. Kennedy and Aldous Huxley. All three believed, in different ways, that death is not the end of human life. Suppose they were right, and suppose they met after death. How might the conversation go?
The three different views of death presented in the book are Western theism (Lewis), Western humanism (Kennedy) and ancient Eastern pantheism (Huxley). The quality of the dialogue here is excellent, and I suspect one might have trouble telling the difference between the C.S. Lewis of this book and the C.S. Lewis of “real life”. I’ve never read (or really listened to) Kennedy or Huxley (in any sort of conversational text) so I’m not sure if they sound as they really would have sounded, but I can say that their views are presented accurately and articulately.
Lewis’ dialogue with Kennedy considers “New Christianity” and “Old Christianity,” the nature of Jesus, objections to miracles and the supernatural and whether there is such a thing as “objective truth”. Lewis’ trilemma is presented and explained, and Jesus’ claim to divinity is examined. Lewis’ dialogue with Huxley continues the examination of Jesus’ divine claim (Huxley arguing that Jesus did not claim to be divine), and progresses the discuss into whether Jesus’ claims of divinity were unique or similar to claims the sages of other religions have made. The new dialogue, A World Without Easter, is a short but worthwhile read and mostly examines the popular attitude that the resurrection wasn’t a significant event.
So far Peter Kreeft has yet to fail to impress me. This is another well-written book, one that I highly recommend for those who are interested in seeing how the three different world views presented in the book would dialogue and interact with each other.
Well, it seems a mid-term and essay have taken control of my life, so I won’t be able to put any substantial thought towards posting (for today). I do think it’s worth mentioning, however, a talk given by Peter Kreeft on something he calls “ecumenical jihad”–that through (religious) separation comes unity (mighty paradoxical, isn’t it?). It’s about an hour and a half long, but it’s well worth the listen if you’re interested in hearing a little about interfaith cooperation. Though, to be clear, Kreeft is not a pluralist.
You can listen to the lecture here.
I’ve noticed that a lot of discussions tend to talk about “the damned” (for lack of a better phrase) without actually talking about them. That is to say that on the one hand, we argue over the existence of Hell, and if it does exist, what kind of God would possibly create such a place. On the other hand, when we talk about the souls of those who will populate Hell we make a particular assumption: they don’t want to be there. I think the reasoning is something like this: “Every knee will bow and confess Jesus as Lord. Therefore, all will want to be with Jesus, especially those going to Hell, who will be filled with regret”. I’m not entirely sure I believe this. In fact, I’m fairly certain I don’t. I’m not even sure why the alternative has been long ignored. That upon seeing Jesus, those who rejected Him will only be filled with more bitterness at the thought of their eternal destination. A bitterness which will grow over time. Perhaps until it is all that is left of them. It’s a thought I share with C.S. Lewis, “I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside” (Complete C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, 626). And, in fact, it’s probably one I’m going to have to insist on the next time I enter into a conversation with respect to Hell.
This is just a short thought in continuation from my post yesterday on the virtue of magnanimity. I find that there are certain feelings which are related to those of inadequacy, and I’ll call them ‘thoughts of consistency”. To give an example, this would take the form of doing or saying something early in life and then coming to disagree with that view as one grows older. Truthfully I don’t think there is anything wrong with this, and would think it rather hard to grow if not for expressing views which are allowed to evolve. Take for instance a post I wrote quite a while ago, “Response to Postmodern Biblical Authority” (it’s worth reading, so check it out). Since writing it I’ve come to read more on the subject (such as Lyotard’s books), and as a result I’ve come to better understand the argument presented. Now, this is a case where I don’t necessarily agree with my conclusion, though I wouldn’t say I still agree with my line of argument (because, as a commenter pointed out, it’s based on some misunderstandings). There may (and are) be cases where I do disagree with both my conclusion and argumentation, or conclusion but not my argumentation. The problem comes when people are expected — such as in forum discussions — to hold their view absolutely and that any change of mind is shown as some sort of weakness. What a terribly destructive attitude, I’ve been accused of it many times. Rather, these things are necessary for growth, as much as we may personally come to loathe some of the things we’ve said and done. And, in the end, if the result is a deeper understanding of God and greater wisdom, then the cost of disagreeing with yourself was well worth it. It should cause us to pause and think about how we present our views and teachings. With a proper, humble attitude, I don’t think we have as much as an issue as we often imagine.
And personally, I love growth; learning new things, “becoming wiser’. The humility it requires is well worth it.–a lot of us could do with a little more humility.
I have something of a confession to make: a lot of the time I feel inadequate. I feel inadequate in almost everything I do, especially in the things others tell me I’m (really) good at. When I do feel content with myself, the moment is fleeting. I’m content until I come across someone else who does something similar to what I do–except they do it better. Or at least that’s what I think. It doesn’t matter their age, their education or their background. It only matters that I see myself as insignificant compared to them and what they are doing, even if the reality is the opposite. I’ve had feelings of inadequacy to the point of almost believing that if others really knew how much I didn’t know (and I really don’t know a lot), they would shrug me off as puffed up, a charlatan or a fraud. I suspect that in a way this is what drives people to be “unique,” and it’s what motivated Lewis’ advise that to be original, you need only be yourself. Lewis’ advise is harder than it first appears. For it seems to me that we feel less inadequate if we imitate those we consider ‘great’ (and in considering them great, we don’t consider them to be inadequate). But to be original means to face ourselves, to stand in opposition to our (feelings of) inadequacy.
In fact there are two doubts about myself that are constantly recurring. The first is the doubt that I will not amount to anything, least of all what I desire to do. The second is that all I’m ever really doing is “repeating others,” so why bother in the first place (after all, there are other people repeating the same things, and in better ways). But I happened upon something when discussing these feelings of inadequacy with a friend: the medieval virtue of magnanimity.
In researching magnanimity, I came across the idea that magnanimity is something akin, almost the same as, what we call “self-esteem”. I think a reasonable definition of self-esteem would be “confidence in oneself” (I also think many have taken this to an extreme–unwarranted confidence in oneself), and while I think this has its relations to magnanimity, it is only a small part of magnanimity. As I discovered, magnanimity is broad, covering many virtues–not simply confidence in oneself. To illustrate what I mean I’ll have to enlist the aid of medieval philosopher, Thomas Aquinas.
In his most well known work, The Summa Theologica, Aquinas addresses objections to the virtue of magnanimity, such as: “is it a virtue?” “What is its relation to confidence?’ and “What is its relation to assurance?” (It’s interesting that there is a distinction, here, between confidence and assurance–the things that never cross my mind, but anyway). But I’ll stick to outlining what Aquinas believes the virtue of magnanimity is, then relating that to my thoughts above (or at least attempting to).
Magnanimity and Fortitude
If we look closely at my initial post we will discover something not explicitly stated: fear. To give fear an audience in one’s mind is to entirely remove magnanimity from one’s presence. That is to say that you are magnanimous in spite of fear — this is what makes it a virtue — but you cannot be fearful in the presence of magnanimity. I believe we can relate this to fortitude of the mind. Fortitude is described as “strength of mind that enables a person to encounter danger or bear pain or adversity with courage” (it can also refer simply to “strength”). In this respect, Aquinas states that, “it is clear that magnanimity agrees with fortitude in confirming the mind about some difficult matter” 1. In other words, magnanimity is not to be confused with fortitude (both virtues), though it relates to and works with fortitude “about some difficult matter”. Magnanimity is first of all a strengthening of the mind in view of difficulty. Aquinas adds that herein Magnanimity itself is not enough, for in matters of death a man may become fearful (supporting my statement above).
Magnanimity and Confidence
Interestingly, fortitude is not the same as confidence–one flows from the other. According to Aquinas, confidence “denotes a certain strength of hope arising from some observation which gives one a strong opinion that one will obtain a certain good” 2. Confidence begins with an observation, fortitude in the mind (it seems to me that fortitude is the result of a decision dependent upon that which is observed). For instance, one may begin with confidence and gain fortitude. However, upon losing confidence one likewise loses fortitude. Fortitude requires confidence, and a confidence which does not result in fortitude is not really confidence. This is where one’s possession of magnanimity is made or broken. For if in an observation one begins fearing, confidence and everything that follows (magnanimity) is lost. However, if in an observation one takes confidence, developing fortitude, then it’s possible (though not necessary) that the virtue of magnanimity will be possessed. Magnanimity is second of all confidence regardless of perception.
Magnanimity and Security
So far we’ve discussed magnanimity as possessing fortitude of the mind, and confidence in observation. Virtues held in spite of the “reality of the matter,” or thoughts otherwise. That is that fortitude of the mind is held regardless of self-perception; confidence in observation is held regardless of circumstance. The last virtue in relation to magnanimity is security (otherwise known as assurance). By security it is meant the removal of fear–the complete removal of fear. We mean a particular kind of fear: despair. Consider again my initial paragraph, what can be the only result of such intense inadequacy? Despair. To feel inadequate is to despair in oneself. This, I suspect, is the hardest aspect of magnanimity; the aspect which pushes this virtue beyond the grasp of most people. Aquinas says that “security denotes perfect freedom of the mind from fear” 3. There can be no other way about it.
Conclusion: Inadequacy and Magnanimity
Admittedly, I probably haven’t understood Aquinas perfectly. I don’t know how a medieval philosopher would define some of the words used above, I also don’t have any resources that would point me in the right direction. Though however imperfect my understanding of Aquinas, I am comforted in knowing that inadequacy is common enough that a virtue contrary to it exists. I am also comforted in coming to understanding this virtue of magnanimity (and, I think, our culture would be better off had it a good understanding of these “virtues” of the medieval Christian philosophers). And herein is the challenge: living a virtuous life. Feeling of inadequacy are lies, as are comparisons with others that are unrealistic (I really shouldn’t be comparing myself with anyone, period. I imagine it constitutes some sort of envy). But we fall into these lies because it’s easier than facing the truth of who we are, who we really are. I will be quick to add, however, that one need not display magnanimity to overcome inadequacy. Rather, one need only resolve to have a strong mind, be confident and be assured in all they do, regardless of thoughts and observations otherwise.
And that, I think, is a much scarier thing than dealing with the thought that we’re inadequate.
I just finished Peter Kreeft’s Heaven and Hell, and he closes the book with a piece of poetry written by C.S. Lewis. I’m surprised I haven’t come across this before, the admirer of Lewis that I am (I’m told its from his book Reflections on the Psalms). He seems to be saying that there is a certain danger in intellectual arguments and logical proofs for God’s existence. Namely, that such things may very well deaden one’s faith, turning it into an intellectual exercise, rather than a matter of the heart (if one’s not careful). (Unfortunately) from experience, I can attest to this.
From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the victories that I seem to score;
From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divinity
Thou, who wouldst give no other sign, deliver meThoughts are but coins. Let me not trust instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn image of thy head.
From all me thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and the needle’s eye,
Take me from all my trumpery lest I die.
Justin Taylor has posted a link on his blog to a presentation on Islam by Dr. Al Mohler. A good introduction to the Christian / Muslim dialogue, Mohler’s talk is described as an examination of “some of the fundamental ways in which Islam and Christianity are at odds with one another, and how Christians and local churches can best think through their implications for life and ministry.” Having listened to it last night, I can say that it’s very informative and a worth the listen if you’re interested in the Christian / Muslim dynamic.
You can find the presentation here.
One of the most interesting (and humorous) discussions I’ve ever seen on the topic of God and evil was one between philosophers Alvin Plantinga and Richard Gale. Plantinga is notable for two things; he’s regarded as one of the pioneers in the renaissance of Christian philosophy, as it’s called. He’s also considered to have put an end to the intellectual argument from evil. Gale has himself written quite a few books on metaphysics, ontology and God. The dialogue is very informative and the discussion easy to follow (even if at times a bit difficult to understanding). So please, watch
Which gives me an idea for another post…
(**Spoilers below**)
Some times I wonder how people arrive at certain interpretations of “art”. Strangely enough, I came across this article which sets about using Avatar as a metaphor for “emergent evangelism”. The main thrust of the article is that we “don’t bring God to the other,” rather, that “we find God in the other”–Jake Sully is the perfect example of this sort of mindset, or so it’s claimed. I don’t want to examine the entire article, only one paragraph.
Evangelism is a two-way street
This is where the Avatar movie is a great metaphor for what evangelism could and should become. Although Jake Sully entered the Na’vi world (Pandora) initially with an agenda in mind, he got to appreciate their way of life, its beauty so much so that he wanted to become part of it. Eventually his presence there really helped to save them. But it was something organic. Evangelism should really be a two way street. We enter the other’s world because we really believe we are enriched by the interaction and our horizons will be enlarged. We celebrate good and beauty where ever we find it. Jesus often found faith outside his religious tribe (Israel, God’s people) and praised it (Matthew 8:10; 15:28 to name a few instances). Actually, when we read the Gospels we often find Jesus saddened by the lack of faith among his own people and followers.
I want to begin by looking at the sentence “Eventually his presence there really helped to save them” and asking a question, by what means did Jake Sully save the Na’vi? To briefly explain some of the plot; as the movie goes, Jake’s agenda is to discover “inside information” about the Na’vi, gain their trust (understand their ways) and then convince them to leave their “home tree” (he was also expected to turn his back on them when the time called for it). However, he grows to appreciate the Na’vi, eventually falling in love with one of them (Neytiri) and, in the end, he saves them from their would be human murderers. Assuming that Jake is presented as a Christ figure, then the analogy — both in the movie, and in this article — fails. I believe there are three significant ways the analogy fails.
Failure #1 A basic tenet of the Christian faith states that we are sinful, fallen, and nothing we can do of ourselves will bring us back into communion with God (the Father). This does not mean that God can become man, and then use one of our methods (where we couldn’t use it) to save us. Any human method of “salvation” is insufficient. This means that for our communion with God to be restored, He must do a divine work. However, in Avatar this is exactly what Jake does–he becomes a Na’vi, saving them with their own means.
Failure #2 To save the Na’vi, Jake must betray the entire human race–it’s the only way. To ask a question: did Jesus abandon God, or the Israelites? On the contrary–salvation is only possible through God, not by any other means (and He did not abandon the Israelites). In fact this also relates to the Incarnation. Consider that throughout almost all of the movie, Jake only appears as a Na’vi, but in essence he is still human. The comparable Christian heresy is known as Docetism, the belief that Jesus only appeared human (and subsequently, did not really suffer). It is only until the end of the movie, where Jake dies and is resurrected as a Na’vi, that he truly possess the essence of a Na’vi. But consider the trade-off. Either Jake possess a Na’vi nature, or a human nature–he does not possess both at the same time.
Failure #3 It is assumed that the Na’vi belief system is not only as valid as any human belief system, but more valid than what humans possess. This is the movie’s answer to the problem of sin. When we first meet the Na’vi (Neytiri, specifically), we’re introduced to a Jake who is being scolded for killing. The reason? Everything on Pandora is connected and has a life force–nature and animals (including the Na’vi) are in perfect harmony. It is not until humans — technology driven and disconnected from nature — show up that this order is upset. This religious system (which is very similar to animism, or pantheism) is one of the tools Jake uses to defeat Pandora’s human invadors. It is a significant victory when Jake tames a Toruk–he and nature are truly one. In other words, nature is god. A corollary of this is the teaching that development and technology is bad. Had humans not become disconnected from nature, we wouldn’t have had to travel to Pandora. And, if we did, we would have been peaceful.
Where the theology of the movie is concerned, we learn a few things:
- Suffering is a result of disconnection with nature
- We can ‘save’ ourselves by reconnecting with nature
- Development and technology is bad, as it requires the destruction of nature
- There is a life force which travels through all of us, connecting everyone
It does sound awfully similar to New Ageism, or Paganism, doesn’t it?
But what of evangelism being a two way street? I think that absolutely, such interaction can be beneficial and enriching–human culture is a gift from God. However, it’s not simply about celebrating “good and beauty” wherever we find it. That isn’t enough; good and beauty don’t restore one’s relationship with God (neither does misdirected sincerity). It’s about following the commands of Jesus: “And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” (Mark 16:15). I engage in evangelism because I want to see people come to know and believe and trust in Jesus. I don’t “evangelize to be evangelized”–I already know the message. I’m evangelizing because I believe the message and people need saving. And absolutely, we need to form relationships.
A quick word on the provided examples of Jesus finding “faith outside of his religious tribe, and praising it”. I must point out that the comparison fails in that those who are displaying faith, are displaying it towards him–they are praising God, seeking after God. They aren’t being praised for their sincere displays of faith in any other Gods. They aren’t approaching Jesus and saying, ‘You’re a nice guy, but I believe in Ba’al”. Jesus isn’t going to praise them for that sentiment.
In the end, if this is an example of “emergent evangelism,” then I fear “emergent evangelism” is a rejection of Jesus.
While reading The Making of an Atheist I really started to think about what I’m going to call a “misapplied apologetic”. This is really just a nice way of describing “apologists” who beat people over the head with “truth”–it happens more than you think. It’s the sort of people that grab a hold of an idea, take it to be absolutely true (whether or not it is, though as far as they’re concerned, it is) and then proceed to tell everyone else how wrong they are. I suppose, like me, they forgot to read the end of 1 Peter 3:15. Two examples to illustrate what I mean; one of these examples is something of an in-house apologetic issue–the ‘YEC / Evolution’ debate. The other, is concerning a certain people group which the church has grossly mishandled.
I learned a long time ago that it wasn’t worth my time to get involved in a YEC debate (for those who don’t know, Young Earth Creationism, the view that God created the world in 6, 24 hour periods, as described in Genesis 1 and that the universe is only 6,000 — 10,000 years old). For the most part, there is an extreme lack of humility and an attitude of superiority that just shouldn’t be present in the life of a Christian. Even if what’s under discussion is an in house debate–people tend to look through the windows, as it were. People are going to notice the lack of humility and meekness. To ask a question, how many people get caught up on a YEC view of Scripture and dismiss Jesus as a result? I’m fairly certain that choosing not to believe in YEC will not affect anyone’s salvation, yet some groups insist on it–believe in YEC or otherwise you undermine the entire foundation of Christianity. One of the most common questions I come across is exactly this question: “Can I be a Christian and believe in evolution?” The answer, even though some of us don’t like to admit it, is yes. But to do so we would have to admit that we don’t know everything (remember Job 38:4? “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth…”). People don’t ask why Christians hate science for no reason. Even if the perception was initially a falsehood, it’s quickly becoming reality. It’s extremely disheartening to me when some of us confuse the core message of the Gospel with these secondary issues. The result is confusing and only turns people off Jesus.
The other example I wanted to mention might make people uncomfortable–homosexuality. The church has severely mishandled the ‘homosexual issue,’ and while I agree that the lifestyle is sin, I don’t believe that gives anyone the “right” to club them over the head with “God’s word”. I came across a very good video by Ravi Zacharias and he handles this question exquisitely. Rather than immediately go to Leviticus or Romans, he creates a distinction between a homosexual lifestyle (which is what Scripture always refers to) and a specific sexual disposition. There is a humbleness and approachability in this treatment of homosexuality that should be exemplified by all Christians. Unfortunately, a lot of the time (some) Christians tend to immediately run to Leviticus or Romans and blurt out (perhaps without thinking) the evils of homosexuality. Yet at the same time we forget the evils of (heterosexual) lust, greed, envy and gluttony. Yes, the life style is a sin and we believe so out of love for people, but we have to approach this issue with prayerful, sensitive and reflective hearts. We really do need to be “little Christs” when approaching everyone.
I think this may have turned into something I wasn’t originally planning, but I’ve said it nonetheless. This is something that really grieves my heart, when Christians treat each other and others unChristlike. We really need to watch ourselves because it’s by our actions we’ll be judged.
As Nietzsche said: “I might believe in the Redeemer if His followers looked more Redeemed”.
