We now come to Part 5 of my analysis of Jerry Coyne’s book, Faith vs. Fact. In this post I will conclude my thoughts on Coyne’s second chapter, entitled, “What’s Incompatible?” In this post, I want to comment on (1) Coyne’s take on the early Church Fathers, (2) his failure to distinguish between various religions and cults, and (3) his argument for philosophical naturalism. Let’s get to it.
Coyne on Thomas Aquinas
One of the things Jerry Coyne tries to do in chapter 2 is to give the impression that all Christians throughout all time are basically the same as 20th century ultra-fundamentalists who look with suspicion on all things intellectual and scientific. Take, for example, his take on the famous Catholic theologian Thomas Aquinas. Coyne comments on Aquinas in the midst of his discussion regarding how “honest” Christians read the Bible “literally” (i.e. as straight up history all the way through), whereas “liberal” Christians try to save the Bible when science proves it wrong by invoking (as I discussed in my previous post) metaphor, allegory, parable…or whatever.
This is what Coyne says about how Aquinas approached the Bible: “Aquinas actually argued that scripture could be read both literally and metaphorically. In other words, he waffled, but, importantly, emphasized that if there was a conflict between metaphorical and literal interpretations of the Bible, literalism must win” (57).
I think I know how most people who don’t know anything about Aquinas would interpret what Coyne said: “Aquinas basically said, ‘Well, you could read the Bible as historical, or you could read it however you want—metaphorical, allegorical…whatever—but when it comes right down to it, you had better admit there was a real talking snake and that Jonah was really swallowed by a whale!’” That is what Coyne is clearly claiming about Aquinas. That Aquinas, what a fundie rube!
And now let’s come back to reality. That is precisely not what Aquinas claimed. Here is a quick lesson in Aquinas’ approach to Scripture. Aquinas basically said there were two senses of Scripture: the literal sense and the spiritual (or mystical) sense. But when Aquinas spoke of the literal sense, he was not talking about interpreting everything in the Bible as straight up historical. Rather, he was talking about reading any particular passage in the way that the author intended within the original, historical context: the literal sense of the story of the Prodigal Son would be to read it as a parable; the literal sense of poetic imagery in the Psalms would be to read them as metaphors or similes, etc; the literal sense of something like Jesus sitting at the right hand of God is to read that metaphorically (i.e. Jesus has been endowed with the power of God); the literal sense of Jesus going into the Temple and turning over tables is to read that as a historical claim that he really did that.
So to be clear, when Aquinas talked about the literal sense of Scripture, he was talking about reading a passage in the way the author intended, be the intention a metaphor, allegory, parable, poem, or history. When Aquinas talked about the literal sense, he was not (as Coyne obviously claims) insisting that everything be read as straight history, no matter what.
When Aquinas talks about the spiritual/mystical sense of Scripture, he says one can, among other things, read a passage allegorically or one derive a moral lesson from the passage, but whatever spiritual/mystical meaning one derives from any given passage, it still should be rooted in the literal sense (i.e. the original intended meaning) of the passage.
Given all that, it is abundantly clear that not only is Coyne wrong when he takes “literal” to mean “only historical,” but he also completely botches what the “mystical sense” even means. Heck, he uses the completely wrong term! That shouldn’t be surprising—as I pointed out in my previous post, he obviously thinks metaphor, allegory, parable, and now “mystical” are all kind of the same thing.
Coyne on Faith vs. Reason
Coyne also completely misunderstands what the biblical understanding of faith actually is during his discussion of the supposed conflict between faith and reason. Coyne says the following: “The most important component of the incompatibility between science and religion is religion’s dependence on faith, a word defined in the New Testament as ‘the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen’” (67).
He takes his definition of faith from the KJV version of Hebrews 11:1. It is quite clear that in making his argument, Coyne interprets Hebrews 11:1 the following way: Science comes to truth about the universe through observation, experimentation and evidence, whereas “faith” really is just believing without evidence and essentially believing, without evidence, that fairytales are true. The only problem is that that “definition” of faith is not what Hebrews 11:1 is saying.
Now, most modern translations have “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” And that is pretty important if one is to understand what the writer of Hebrews is talking about, and he is not talking about is how we come to a knowledge of the natural world. Rather, he is talking about the ultimate Christian hope of a future renewal of all creation. Christian faith is essentially this: it looks back to the resurrection of Christ in history, realizes it signifies the defeat of death and the beginning of God’s renewal of creation, and then looks forward to the consummation of God’s renewal of creation when those who put their faith in Christ will be really resurrected just like he was—that is what the writer of Hebrews is talking about when he talks of “things hoped for” and “things not seen.” They are “hoped for” and “not seen’ yet because they are to happen in the future. But he assurance and conviction of the Christian faith is rooted in something that has happened in history, in the past—the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Now, I am sure an atheist will say that is all stupid because dead people don’t come back to life. That, though, is not the point at this time. The point I am making is that Coyne has completely botched and butchered the meaning of Hebrews 11:1, and thus his very understanding of what the Christian faith is, is completely wrong. I can almost hear Inigo Montoya said, “That word, ‘faith’—I do not think it means what you think it means!”
That though doesn’t stop Coyne from pushing forward with his faulty understanding of faith. Having wrongly defined faith as basically irrational and unscientific belief in fairytales, he then claims that both the Apostle Paul and the early Church Fathers were fervently opposed to reason. He writes, “Paul and the early church fathers and theologians were unrelenting in their attacks on reason, a doctrine encapsulated in fideism, the view that faith and reason are not only incompatible, but also mutually hostile, and that religious belief must be justified by faith alone” (68).
Coyne then claims that Christians throughout the centuries, be they the early Church Father Tertullian, Soren Kierkegaard (!!!), Ignatius of Loyola, or Martin Luther, have all be militantly hostile toward reason. Not surprisingly, Coyne gets just about everything wrong, again. Properly understood, fideism is the philosophical view that sees all knowledge and human reason as ultimately rooted in some kind of faith. Fideism is an entire topic in and of itself, but suffice it to say, Coyne’s attempt to portray it with the caricature of being some kind of ultra-fundamentalist anti-intellectualism that sees science as the devil is simply laughable and absurd.
Coyne on Tertullian
But let’s take Coyne’s comments on Tertullian as case in point. He quotes Tertullian as saying, “The Son of God died: it is immediately credible—because it is silly. He was buried and rose again: it is certain—because it is impossible.” Coyne then comments thus: “It might seem bizarre to believe in something because it is absurd, but it makes a kind of sense: faith is required for belief only when you lack good reasons for that belief” (68).
There you have it! Christian faith is stupid because it even admits to believing in things precisely because they are stupid! Well…not so fast, Jerry. You probably should have actually done a little research. Tertullian was making a larger argument regarding the truthfulness of Christianity and was appealing to Aristotle to make his point. Basically, Tertullian was not saying, “I believe because it is absurd,” but rather, “It is certain, because it is impossible.” And that is where he was referencing Aristotle. In Rhetoric 2.23.21, Aristotle says this:
“Another line of argument refers to things which are supposed to happen and yet seem incredible. We may argue that people could not have believed them, if they had not been true or nearly true: even that they are the more likely to be true because they are incredible. For the things which men believe are either facts or probabilities: if, therefore, a thing that is believed is improbable and even incredible, it must be true, since it is certainly not believed because it is at all probable or credible.”
Simply put, Aristotle was saying that if something according to convention is considered impossible or ridiculous, but people claim that they actually experienced that supposedly impossible thing occur, one must strongly consider the fact that what they are claiming is true, despite what convention accepts.
Convention says, for example, that dead people do not resurrect. If one person came out of Judea, claiming to have spoken to a resurrected Jesus, it would be reasonable to assume that person was insane. But if 5, 10, even 500 people claim to have witnessed the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of Christ, then it would be reasonable to pause and consider the fact that perhaps such an “impossible” thing really, in fact, happened. That was what Tertullian was saying. Agree with him or not, but you cannot misquote the man, and then use that misquote to make the false claim that Christians prize ignorance and absurdity over reason. To do such a thing would be unreasonable to say the least. But that, it seems, is where Coyne makes his home.
Conclusion Thus Far
It seems that there simply is too much in chapter 2 for me to limit my analysis to two posts. I have not been able to address Coyne’s conflation of all religions and cults as if they’re the same time, or his discussion of philosophical naturalism. Those will have to wait for the next post.
