Philip Goff’s conversion to a self-described heretical version of Christianity only a few months after publishing his defense of atheism[1] is just one example of philosophers growing increasingly dissatisfied with atheism. Richard Dawkins has even rebranded himself as a “cultural Christian.” It is not ridiculous to be an atheist nowadays—it is just no longer fashionable.
The death of atheism demands a change in our apologetics. The debate in our culture now is less between Christianity and atheism—theism is becoming a safe position for us to assume. Instead, the debate lies between orthodox Christianity and rival religious beliefs. It is interesting that two prominent commentators on online apologetics, Gavin Ortlund and Matt Fradd, are increasingly producing content aimed at interfaith or interdenominational debates and fewer arguments against atheism. We need to be prepared not just to argue for God’s existence, but also for our particular church’s worldview.
A brief reflection on the apologists in church history shows that apologetics is a highly contextualized practice, and that shifts in our culture require shifts in our apologetics. Augustine’s City of God is largely an apologetic work, but apologists of today do not feel the need to refute Greco-Roman polytheism like Augustine did. Augustine attacked the plausibility structures of the pagans, pointing to the absurdities of an infinitely cyclical view of history or the implausibility of a multitude of petty gods governing things such as door hinges and thresholds.
It is not that Augustine is now irrelevant; the point is that our apologetics need to adapt to the needs of the church in its historical setting. We ought to take note that the plausibility structures in our culture are changing, thereby rendering atheism unfashionable. Religion writ large, at least, is becoming more plausible to many outside the church, and exclusively focusing on, for instance, theistic proofs may do little to spread the gospel.
Return to Goff’s conversion, which demonstrates a change in our cultural plausibility structure. His discontent with atheism did not lead him to try to forge a new path for atheism. Instead, Goff now calls himself a heretic, embracing panentheism, divine fallibility, and an updated (though not improved) version of Docetism. The philosophical debates over theism are moving away from the question of atheism, and atheism is no longer the assumed position of most philosophers. Intellectuals are starting to see beyond the hedges of atheist philosophy.
The debates in the coming years will increasingly focus on doctrinal differences among denominations or on arguing for Christianity against other world religions. Who is God and what does He teach us? These questions are found on nearly every page of City of God. Thomas Aquinas, as well, spends much of his Summa contra Gentiles addressing these same questions. I am not arguing that we must cease developing arguments against atheism—these arguments are no doubt important. In due time, though, these arguments may become more like the arguments against the Greco–Roman pantheon: it may be good work, historically or philosophically interesting, but not a live intellectual battleground. The struggle will instead be between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, Christianity and other religions.
In so doing, we must proceed with some caution. We have examples in church history of interfaith interactions going poorly. There were rulers, like Henry II, the Holy Roman Emperor, who forced the Jews out of Mainz in 1012,[2] or Tsar Alexander III, who did the same in Moscow in 1891.[3] In addition to pogroms—sometimes started by the masses but encouraged by political leadership—church inquisitors, such as Tomàs de Torquemada, gave Spanish Jews an ultimatum: convert or face expulsion. Similarly, church history also provides poor examples of interdenominational interactions, with religious wars leveling most of Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Likewise, the polemics of the Reformation and Counter Reformation did not exactly edify the church.
In 1 Peter 3:15, Peter calls us to always be prepared to give a defense, but we must do so in gentleness and respect. Our ministry as an interdenominational apologist can devolve into sowing division and breaking the unity of the church. As George Santayana noted, those who do not learn from history are “condemned to repeat it.”[4] We should learn from the church’s past mistakes.
There is no need to end on a negative note, though. Some Christian philosophers of the past few decades have demonstrated a capacity to debate theology and church doctrine rigorously without devolving into calling their opponents heretics. Timothy Pawl, concluding his masterful work on Christology, is worth quoting at some length:
So my friendly suggestion: if you are going to charge someone as a heretic, then you ought to take the time to show it. And if you can’t show it, it is better not to say it at all. Two further suggestions…. First, if you decide to make the charge, do it in charity…. Second, be prepared to answer questions of the following sort: “What, exactly, is the measure of heresy and orthodoxy? [5]
All of this is not to say that debates have always modeled what Pawl calls for here, but we ought to bring a similar heart to interdenominational and interfaith dialogues. In gentleness and respect, we want to reprove and correct false doctrine, which often requires careful explanation. We must be prepared not just to cite texts, but to explain what texts we take as authoritative and why. We must be wise as serpents and innocent as doves to avoid the mistakes of the past (Matthew 10:16).
No comments have been added.