1. Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.

    —Jesus, John 7:24 ESV

  2. Nietzsche was (ironically) among the first atheist philosophers to refute the Darwinian theory of ethics, which may explain why the New Atheists are so strangely silent about the greatest atheist thinker who ever lived; because, as of today, Darwinian ethics is the only viable thing in their market. 

    Nietzsche opens Good and Evil, Good and Bad with some sharp criticisms against the so-called “English psychologists,” which is most likely a reference to Paul Rée, who Nietzsche mentions in the Prologue and to whom he attributes a “topsy-turvy, perverse type of genealogical hypothesis.” Rée is best known for his method in tracing the origin of ‘the moral feelings,’ which was at the time one of the earliest attempts at Darwinian ethics. He took Drawin’s theory of evolution to its conclusion and traced all moral phenomena back to natural selection. Rée took the most empirical means of moral understanding (which is feeling) as his first premise. From there, by way of induction, he concluded that there is no metaphysical reality to good and evil. He argued that human moral feelings were just that, mere feelings – something mistaken as innate characteristic over a long period of natural selection (Bertrand Russell also took this view of moral intuition based on feeling). 

    Nietzsche adamantly rejects Rée’s theory, saying “I have perhaps never read anything which I would have denied, statement by statement, conclusion by conclusion, as I did with this book, but without any sense of annoyance or impatience.” 

    One of Rée’s key terms, which Nietzsche also employs, is the ‘unegoistic.’ Rée’s theory was that the reason why morality is as it is (or was) is because communities that became conditioned to have positive feelings (‘good’ feelings) towards the ‘unegoistic’ were selected for survival.

    Nietzsche doesn’t buy any of it, and posits his own speculations about the ‘unegoistic’:

    … what is it that really drives these psychologists always in this particular direction? Is it a secret, malicious, common instinct, perhaps one which cannot be acknowledged even to itself, for belittling humanity? Or something like a pessimistic suspicion, the mistrust of idealists who’ve become disappointed, gloomy, venomous, and green? Or a small underground hostility and rancour towards Christianity (and Plato), which perhaps has never once managed to cross the threshold of consciousness? Or even a lecherous taste for what is odd or painfully paradoxical, for what in existence is questionable and ridiculous? Or finally—a bit of all of these: a little vulgarity, a little gloominess, a little hostility to Christianity, a little thrill, and a need for pepper? (Essay 1.1)

    What’s surprising about Nietzsche’s speculations here is the fact that most of them are precisely confirmed in light of the development of Darwinian ethics and the rise of New Atheism in contemporary America.

    To borrow Nietzsche’s words, the “common instinct… for belittling humanity” and the “hostility and rancour towards Christianity” are all too evidenced by contemporary Darwinists and outspoken atheists such as Richard Dawkins and Michael Ruse. Dawkins is the Oxford biologist who famously stated, “There is at the bottom of it all, no good, no evil, no purpose, nothing but blind pitiless indifference… DNA neither knows nor cares. DNA just is, and we dance to its music.” Ruse (also an eminent Darwinian biologist) likewise continues the evolutionary train of thought, “[Morality] is something forged in the struggle for existence and reproduction, something fashioned by natural selection. It is as much a natural human adaptation as our ears or noses or teeth or penises or vaginas.”

    Both Dawkins and Ruse echo the thoughts of Paul Rée. They infer from what they suppose is empirical data and draw ethical inferences from them. This is a fallacious attempt to legitimize a naturalistic fallacy (concluding what ought to be the case from what is), and Nietzsche saw right through it. But not only are these scientists going beyond their credentials in theorizing about ethics, very often they also march uninvited into the realm of spirituality to undermine the legitimacy of Christianity, and even politics. Richard Dawkins (more so than Ruse) makes most of his living off of this approach.

    The way in which men like Dawkins would deny the metaphysical existence of good and evil (as Rée did) and then decry the moral evils of religion and political parties is what I believe Nietzsche meant by “odd or painfully paradoxical.” These really are men who are, according to Nietzsche, “simply old, cold, boring frogs, who creep and hop around and into people as if they were in their own proper element, that is, in a swamp.” 

  3. Being in an argument with my mom is like getting arrested. Anything I say can and will be used against me.

    —Joseph, youth student

  4. Why are the Ten Commandments stated mostly in the negative form, as prohibitions, instead of positive encouragements and ethical applications?

    If we were naturally inclined toward obeying the commands of God because we value and love him so, it would be conceivable for the commands to be stated in the positive form without their losing any moral assertiveness. But it is because we are so prone to pursue that which is contrary to the commands of God that it makes much more practical sense to state the commands in the negative, to entreat us away from the false gods that we already love. 

    So you don't mind if I ask about your religion? Please tell me if I'm being disrespectful or something. You don't really have to answer any of these if you don't want to.

    It’s not disrespectful if it’s sincere. Feel free to ask any questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them. 

  5. Nietzsche’s view of ethics is like his view of everything else — that it’s linguistically determined, that it says nothing of reality, that the way things really are (if there is such a thing) cannot be expressed in terms.

    If reflected upon with objective sobriety, Nietzsche’s insights can be of great benefit to society, the church, and their moral dialogue. Ironically, this cannot be done in light of Nietzsche’s own atheistic metaphysical assumption (that there is no metaphysics), but his phenomenology (historicism) can still be rewarding. 

    How often do we see the Left clashing with the Right about ‘rights,’ ‘freedom,’ ‘life,’ ‘fairness,’ ‘wellness,’ ‘good’ and ‘bad’ while utterly ignorant (and complacent!) of where we get these terms to begin with? Indeed, every four years or so the Left and the Right are given their own set of ‘fighting words’ by the higher authorities (who knows who they are?) and are thrown into a coliseum until there is one survivor. Much like Suzanne Collins’ dystopian novel The Huger Games, where children are given a set of predetermined weaponry to fight to the death for the enjoyment of the upper class. Or, take Golding’s Lord of the Flies, for example, wherein the breakdown of societal structure and societal terms precede the breakdown of morality. Surely, the church has its share of this history, long before the Left and Right polarity even existed.

    Those in power have manufactured the terms, terms which have defined morality, and the weak (‘unegoistic’) live imprisoned in its glossary. And so it is, on our own we cannot ascertain the way things really are. Man’s only hope is that the Way reveals itself to him. 

  6. “Most people can’t bear to sit in church for an hour on Sundays. How are they supposed to live somewhere very similar to it for eternity?” — Mark Twain

    By not merely hearing about the man, but seeing him face to face. 

  7. Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name;
    worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness.
    (Psalm 29:2 ESV)

    I learned the Hebrew word ‘nasa’ today, meaning ‘to bear, to carry.’ It is often used in the sense of carrying the name of God. I learned this as I was studying about the Third Commandment: “You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.” 

    I often thought of this command as a prohibition of saying things like ‘Oh my God’ or ‘Jesus Christ’ when something unbelievably disconcerting happens. But that is actually not what the command is primarily speaking to. Taking offense at a rude cultural slang when you hear one, I realized, is not all there is to this. There’s a great deal of joy that needs to be recovered in the proper nasa of God’s name.  

    People often feel reluctant to share their names with strangers. And it’s interesting to think just how much of a relational barrier is lifted when two people introduce their names. On the other hand, when people are wronged they tend not to want to hear their names called by the offender. (‘Talk to the hand!’) The biblical significance in carrying someone’s name is likewise at its core a relational matter. For example, when Adam named all the animals it signified man’s relationship to animals as master over subjects.

    That’s why it is such a remarkable truth that God still allows us to call him by his name, when we have abandoned his rightful Lordship over our lives, which is the true tragic consequence of taking God’s name in vain — living as though the nasa of God’s glorious name was nada.

    The revelation of God’s name is equivalent to God’s granting access to himself, which only the Son and the Spirit have. But he’s extending that same access to rebellious sinners like us, by redemption through the Son, so that we may enjoy the glory of his name and the splendor of his holiness. 

    Note to self: Taking God’s name in vain means not enjoying him as I ought to. 

  8. Though dead, by their writings they yet speak; a peculiar unction attends them to this very hour…

    —George Whitefield, on the Puritans

  9. Dr. Stokes on how atheists and believers are not being nearly as skeptical as they ought to be. 

  10. The Avengers was a zillion times more enjoyable for those who knew exactly what context they were entering (i.e. the situation, the main characters, and the end result) than for those who had absolutely no clue about the context. This is how the doctrine of predestination makes redemptive history that much more existentially satisfying. It is going beyond the joy of God’s revelation to the joy of its dependable fulfillment, beyond the situational (now) to the normative (eternal). This is what our existential being craves in God, the author of our context. 

  11. “I compare you, my love, to a mare among Pharaoh’s chariots.” (Song of Solomon 1:9 ESV)

    There’s an adage today, often taken as a truism among Christians, that it is wrong to compare your spouse to somebody else, whether it pertains to a physical or a personality trait. But what about comparing your spouse to an African mare, like Solomon did (you know, the wisest king and poet who ever lived)?  

    It’s actually very revealing to compare how Solomon ‘compares’ his bride to an animal and how men in today’s culture compare women to other women. What is so painfully paradoxical about it all is the fact that Solomon’s comparison of his bride to a female horse is actually more (much more) dignified and complimentary than the culture’s comparison of women to other (more popular) women.

    “A mare among Pharaoh’s chariots” would have been the best of its kind and “noble and well-furnished with ornaments — captivating and exciting those around her.” (ESVSB) In other words, when Solomon employs this metaphorical comparison to a mare, his central theme is that his bride is the best of her kind and that there really is none that could compare with her. Solomon’s ‘comparison’ is more like a refined Shakespearean metaphor, e.g. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” (Sonnet 18)

    These metaphors speak to the women’s intrinsic beauty without drawing from values dictated (invented) by culture, e.g. ‘You’re hotter than all the girls in the world,’ as if that was the true standard of beauty. Solomon’s metaphor is precisely not this kind of mindless enslavement to culture, but a poetic exaltation of his bride’s own unique attributes.  

    But our modern culture’s comparison of women to other women (be it a TV show, a magazine article, or a conversation at a pub) is completely different and utterly dehumanizing. Men today are keen on comparing one woman to another based on standards manufactured by the culture, standards usually comprising of a few temporary and arbitrary physical traits, usually concealed in thoughtless jargons like ‘hot,’ ‘sexy,’ and ‘drop dead gorgeous.’ These standards (or values) are not ultimately rooted in the object of love (i.e. the bride), but in something altogether relative (to the culture). So in reality these manufactured comparisons are a tribute to the culture of its origin, not the woman.

    So as the men see their object of love falling short of the culture’s standards, they begin to compare, and slowly but surely retract their previous praises and vows, whilst seeking to find another object to love for their evolving appetites. (The men know just exactly what I mean.) And Shakespeare could not have been more wrong when he said, “Love alters not when it alteration finds.” (Sonnet 116) 

    As if all this is not tragic enough, women begin to fear the consequence of falling short of this arbitrary cultural standard that’s forced upon them, i.e. utter rejection. Men have basically pit women against one another to run a horse race to men’s profit and entertainment, thereby creating the booming industries of female cosmetics and other agencies of cultural conformity. Those who succumb to such men run the race at the expense of true love and security, and enslave themselves to abusive men who actually treat them like they’re merely female horses. These men don’t speak in metaphors like Solomon, because they have neither the time nor the sensibility for it. Their best attempts amount to things like ‘I’ll catch a grenade for you.’

    So I adjure you, men, by the Song of Solomon to reclaim your true romance by writing your wife or fiancée an original metaphor today, before she turns on that noxious thing called ‘the radio,’ and lands on a grenade or something. 

  12. Let His dwelling among us be the sign,

    His death and resurrection the wonder, 

    And His Spirit in us the miracle.

  13. Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions.

    —G.K. Chesterton (via hineni-lehallel)

Mumblings of a tumbling seminarian.