A Question About Prayer

Kelly: Somewhere along my journey towards a more biblically consistent understanding of salvation I seem to have lost the confidence of knowing what to pray for with regard to God's dealings with someone—what I mean is, their salvation. I know these things are already known to God, and that His timing is impeccable and so forth. I understand that we can't know if a person will come to faith, so... well, what is appropriate to pray for, with respect to someone coming to know Christ? Is it inappropriate to pray for that at all, or what?

David: We pray that God's will is done, on earth as it is in heaven. That's the idea in a nutshell, but we are so accustomed to hearing that (cf. the Lord's Prayer) that its impact is scarcely felt. There is, as you should know, nothing at all wrong with talking to God on a personal level, talking to him about what your hopes and desires are, who you care for and would love to see in the Kingdom. But all such sentiment should be ultimately subservient to whatever God's will happens to be, with the fullest of confidence and trust that God is righteous and just.

Kelly: I see. And that's about what I thought you would tell me. I don't know what more I was hoping for. I just know someone who does seem to be searching but doesn't understand faith, and admits to wishing he had it. He doesn't, and can't, and we discuss freely all of the things involved with Christianity. Anyway, I do find myself praying for that sort of thing.

David: We both know that regeneration, the new birth, is a work of the Spirit, not a work of the Kelly. That sounds potentially condescending but it's not intended to be. I am trying to underscore a contrast. Fully trust in God, Kelly—and certainly do continue ministering to your friend, because you just never know, right? It's possible that these may be the initial flutterings of his wings of faith, as the Spirit regenerates his former heart of stone. Who but God can know?

Kelly: I water, God gives the increase. Yes, I understand that. This isn't really about me. I do minister, I do openly demonstrate my faith in my witness, I do relate things God has done and is doing in my life, to demonstrate that faith and those blessings. I agree with everything you've said, I do. I just have these buried impulses of habit to pray that their eyes would be opened, et cetera. But thank you for your answer.

David: By all means, you can still pray "that their eyes would be opened," Kelly. We are always encouraged to pray, engaging that communion we have with the Father through Christ Jesus. Like I said, there is nothing wrong whatsoever with sharing your feelings and desires with God.

Scott: That brings up a question for me: Why pray at all if you are only to pray for what God already has on His mind?

David: Because prayer is a form of worship. And it is one of several means whereby we may glorify God in our lives. And it serves to effectively focus our priorities. The list goes on. There are lots of reasons. But God is not a supermarket, and prayer is not a shopping cart.

The Unintelligibility of Godless Ethics

In a strong reaction against the Christian view of values and morals, Tina asserted, "Personally, I view religion as a security blanket with as much correspondence to reality as Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy." I commended her having the good sense to admit that it was a product of personal taste rather than scholarly evaluation; however, when it comes to the larger picture of reality as a whole, her personal tastes have little relevance. Christian theology is something far more substantial; it is "the only view which provides the necessary preconditions for the intelligibility of human experience." It is a very large and brazen argument that myself and others make, demonstrating clearly that Christian theology is far more than just some "security blanket."

"God has nothing to do with ethics or morals," Tina replied. I countered that this factually-phrased statement holds only if you assume that ethics can be adequately and intelligibly accounted for without reference to God. However, under a godless view, ethical norms are non-existent; all that remains are biographical or sociological descriptives. Some people are okay with that. Fine. Speaking for myself, however, I expect an ethical theory to adequately and intelligibly account for evident human experiences like normative values and morals (ethics).

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"It certainly is quite a brazen claim," Peter chimed in. "What's you're evidence for it? Can you prove all other viewpoints to be unintelligible? How would one even know if a viewpoint is intelligible or not?"

First of all, I replied, it should be noted that "the argument" is not really one neat, singular argument but in fact a network of arguments which address various concerns (e.g. ontology, ethics, epistemology, etc) that as a unified whole argues for the same thing.

Second, the argument itself confronts head-on the epistemic assumptions which operate behind the common demand for 'proof' of one thing or another, putting the demand in its proper place. For example, the demand that all items of knowledge must satisfy empirical virtues, understood pejoratively as Scientism (q.v. The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy), is an epistemology that, when consistently held, abrogates all abstract realities and therefore destroys itself; ultimately it is "a kind of logical fallacy involving improper usage of science or scientific claims," explains Gregory Peterson ("Demarcation and the Scientistic Fallacy." Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science 38 [4], 751-761).

Third, one can know whether or not a viewpoint is intelligible by the very definition of the term itself; i.e. if a viewpoint is not capable of coherently and adequately articulating itself, it is unintelligible. For example, if I ask someone to account for why the law of non-contradiction is universal and they reply, "It just is," then that is an unintelligible answer.

"There have been many societies which had strong ethics and morals that weren't Christian," Peter replied, "societies which never heard of the Christian God."

Practically all human beings recognize a moral order and try to live morally. I do not think that's an issue anyone contests. As I pointed out to earlier, the positive (descriptive) analysis is categorically different from the normative (prescriptive) analysis; in other words, the fundamental issue here is properly and adequately accounting for this curious phenomenon of the human being. Most people will agree that mankind generally recognizes a moral order and tries to live morally; an intelligible theory of ethics needs to adequately account for this phenomenon. A godless theory of ethics is incapable of doing so, because it refuses to permit the tools required to traverse from the 'is' to the 'ought'.

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"Is it necessary to make the traverse from the 'is' to the 'ought' in order for an ethical system to function?" Eric asked. "In other words, do beings need the mythology of a Higher Power over their heads, waving the stick or carrot to enforce moral absolutes, in order to function? Or is there not a moral imperative inherent in their nature that, with their upbringing, will direct them to act in a certain way over an average?"

First, I would say that the traverse is only necessary for those with a concern for adequately and intelligibly accounting for normative statements. If one does not really care about accounting for the phenomenon, if one is content to believe that there is nothing within reality to which normative statements correspond, then no it's not necessary. But since there does exist a common human experience of objective morality (e.g. it is right for one society to charge members of another society with crimes against humanity), then certainly some people do have a concern for an adequate account of it; for such people, "there just is" is neither adequate nor intelligible.

Second, any theory of ethics which grounds moral order in some kind of carrot on a string falls prey to Euthyphro's dilemma and must answer to it.

Third, I agree that there is "a moral imperative inherent in [human] nature," so any adequate theory of ethics will need to account for this phenomenon. However, as many scholars far more able than myself have shown, trying to account for it by way of biological or sociological observations commits the naturalistic fallacy (e.g. George Moore, Principia Ethica). And theories which ignore fallacies fail the test of intelligibility. Furthermore, such naturalistic accounts fail to provide us with moral statements applicable to societies in themselves; i.e. circumstance 'X' might be considered 'good' under this theory because it promotes the health and survival of 'Society A' but it does not allow us to state whether 'Society A' is itself good or not (e.g. the Nazi regime). It also fails to provide a moral justification for 'Society B' involving itself in the affairs of 'Society A'. There are many undercutters such a theory must confront.

"With consideration given to religious behaviors across culture and distance," Eric added, "it seems that no one religion is likely to be more necessary or true than any other."

Behavior is descriptive, I answered, which is categorically different from normative or prescriptive. What a culture is or does is fundamentally different from what it ought to be or do.

Unequally Yoked

In a forum elsewhere, 'Sarah' asked any interested parties to weigh in on the following issue (my response to her follows):

I was having a discussion with a friend of mine a few months ago about spiritual and religious beliefs, and how they relate to your search for a life partner. He maintained that as we get older we get more set in our ways, and because our spiritual beliefs and values go to the core of who we are, these beliefs become more important with time. I argued that it should not be an issue, as long as your partner respects your beliefs. But since then, I am beginning to wonder if maybe he had it right. What is your take on this? Does it matter to you? Or is mutual respect for each other's beliefs sufficient?

For me the issue is 'somewhat important', but nearly pushes into the arena of 'very important'. There are theoretical considerations, but... for me, it was the practical lessons that drove the matter home. I had dated a Wiccan lady some years ago. As a person I thought she was quite delightful—obviously, since I decided to date her—but she eventually proved incapable of reconciling the differences between our convictions. I showed interest in her convictions by studying Wicca at length, its beliefs, rituals, and history, and asking her questions about her unique interpretation of Wicca (as a solitary practitioner). She showed precisely zero interest in my convictions, never bothering to understand me in light of them, its effect and influence on my life as a whole. I felt that was unfair but, in the grand scheme of things, acceptable. But ultimately it was more than just a disinterest on her part; she overtly disrespected my spiritual beliefs and completely failed to appreciate how integral it was to my very identity, which was demonstrated very clearly one fateful day. As we sat on the couch talking one afternoon, she noticed a black book sitting face down on the back of the couch. Curious about what it was, she picked it up and glanced at the cover, which said "Holy Bible." She made a face and a noise of disgust and dropped it back down, wiping her hand off. The relationship did not survive.

So obviously there needs to be a mutual respect between two parties with differing spiritual beliefs (or if one has no spiritual beliefs), but that only really works if the two people are merely dating. I think this is where the issue becomes more poignant and relevant, which might make sense of the realization Sarah is coming to. When the relationship goes beyond mere dating, when it transcends into a domestic covenant (whether marriage or common-law partnership), a mutual respect for each other's spiritual beliefs is no longer sufficient. When a relationship acquires substantial depth, one begins to desire more than just respect; one desires to be understood and to have harmony. And as another participant pointed out, raising a family brings the issue to a salient point, elevating the desire for understanding and harmony to a pronounced need—especially where values and morals are concerned. A pagan and an atheist might inherently agree already on values and morals, but the views of a pagan and a Christian are antithetical on that issue.

When it comes to dating, mutual respect is required. When it comes to a domestic covenant, something more substantial than mutual respect is desired. And when it comes to raising a family, that understanding and harmony goes from being desired to being needed.

Unbelievers and God's Mercy

In a forum discussion elsewhere, a fellow we shall call 'Brad' made the remark that "so many of the comedians these days do not find a God of mercy in the Old or New Testaments," that through irreverent satire they deride the God of Scripture as "vengeful and mean" and that it seemed to reflect a rather common attitude. "It saddens me that this trendy new religion of God-bashing has become a form of revenue and entertainment," he said. "The jokes are not challenged, which I fear might leave a perceptible force."

Despite his reference to "comedians" (George Carlin being a rather clear example), the various participants in that thread aptly demonstrated that it is a prevailing attitude of ALL unbelievers, an attitude which articulates a segment of their justification for unbelief. But my question is this: "Why should one be at all surprised?" Scripture predicts this condition.

Those participants who proceeded to exhibit a similar attitude as the one Brad was lamenting, a careful review of all their posts clearly demonstrates one consistent element: they have all presupposed a subjective system of morality that is in defiance of God, which they then hold God subject to. Why do they not find a God of mercy within the pages of Scripture? Because God's mercy is at odds with their system of morality! The mercy of God is defined by the gifts he bestows upon those who do not deserve it; but those comedians and these participants reject this idea of "do not deserve," insofar as they reject the biblical concept of sin and its inherent nature. They feel that there ARE things which all people deserve irrespective of their beliefs, race, commitments, geological location, etc. Since they view "sin" in strictly humanistic terms, there are numerous examples of God acting contrary to what they believe man deserves (and is therefore not merciful but, rather, inhumane and tyrannical). I do not think we would accomplish much by complaining about the derisions that unbelievers hurl at God (although it rightly upsets us). What we ought to do is call these people to the carpet for their completely unintelligible use of the term 'moral' and its relevant dimensions.

Why do I defend God? Because I love him. Why do they castigate God? Because they hate him (notwithstanding their varied qualifications about his existence).

The Unsaved and Morality

In a post to the CARM discussion group on Facebook, a young lady had asserted:

Anyone can live a morally good life but not be saved; i.e. people can 'do the right thing' and follow the comandments, etc. But without a personal relationship with our Savior, you will not have eternal life.

I have to disagree with this. I think we should always be careful of how much philosophical ground we are willing to concede to godless worldviews. (And for me, that amounts to 'zero'.) I will admit that unbelievers can live a 'good' life, but I would argue that it is colloquial and accidental only. They certainly do not live a morally good life, nor can they—if we accept that moral order is grounded in the immutable nature of God and expressed prescriptively in his commands (which we, as Christians, do accept). "The sinful mind is hostile to God. It does not submit to God's law, nor can it do so" (Rom. 8:7; verses 1 and 9 attest that "the sinful mind" belongs to whosoever is not in Christ). As Gordon Clark put the matter, "A man might will to be honest, to support his family, to discharge most of his obligations as a citizen. In colloquial language these things are called good. But they are not spiritual goods" (What Do Presbyterians Believe, pg. 109), because ethics—values and morals—is grounded in, and revealed by, the true and living God. Although an unbeliever might help a homeless person by giving him food or shelter, neither his behavior nor even his motivation is constituted by obedience to or love for God and his will (his conscience may be dictated by God-defying humanism, for example). Ergo, the 'good' he performed was colloquial and accidental—i.e. neither moral nor willfully so.

UPDATE: About an hour later she replied, agreeing with me that the 'good' unbelievers perform is colloquial at best and certainly "not good in God's eyes, for they are done without the will to please God." She conceded that the 'good' which unbelievers perform is "defined by the world's view." Furthering this thought she writes:

They may vote, recycle, love their children, never divorce, donate money, etc, all of which would constitute them as 'model citizens' to the world; however, all of these things, although pleasing to society, will not please God if you are not one of His children . . . Society has its standards of good, but nothing outside of faith in Christ will please God.

And she has it spot on. My basic point is that if it's not according to the revealed will of God then it is not 'moral' (including its synonyms 'good' and 'right'). That term is specific and rich with content qualified by Scripture, and any equivocation of that term leads to unacceptable concessions to godless views. I feel, rather strongly, that we cannot and must not compromise the Word of God. Is that hardcore? Yes, but our commitment to God must be. I contest that we must, as ambassadors of Christ, insist that unbelievers are not good, that they are sinners in every context of their life and in need of the Savior. I contest that permitting unbelievers any foothold in the area of goodness immediately weakens the message of gospel and the necessity of Christ's atoning work.

Put briefly, the unsaved are not good—in any context. They are sinners, alienated from God and in mortal need of the Savior. Perhaps I advocate a minority position, but I simply cannot abide any weakening of the gospel. I was not trying to criticize this young lady's point specifically; I was merely advocating an uncompromising view on this issue.

Return to Blogosphere

I have now returned to the blogosphere. I am in my new place, I have my new computer, and my cable modem was installed today. My thanks to you, for your patience, understanding, and prayers.