I recently spoke with Robin Collins, one of the leading experts on the fine-tuning argument. I’ve been impressed by Collins’ consistent sharpness whenever I talk to him; he always has a clear and precise way of thinking through every subject. When talking to him, one senses that he has already considered your objection at length, and has a prepared response to it that includes a clever and fitting analogy. In my most recent chat with Robin, we talked about the case for Christianity. Robin is a Christian, while I, of course, am not.
He presented one of the most persuasive arguments for Christianity that I’d come across. Interestingly, Robin isn’t very persuaded by the standard arguments for Christianity. He thinks that the historical evidence isn’t enough by itself to establish the resurrection, and that it’s hard to figure out the relative likelihood of the various naturalistic hypotheses. The historical evidence is suggestive but not ultimately decisive.
Robin presents what he calls the greatest story argument. As he says, he believes the good news because it is the good news. The basic idea is as follows:
God being perfect, would give humans the greatest possible good.
The greatest possible good is union with God.
The best kind of union involves God exemplifying the best kinds of virtues and becoming like us.
For God to exemplify the best kinds of virtues, he has to become incarnate.
So God would be expected to be incarnate.
The first premise is plausible, following from the definition of God. The second premise is also very plausible; if God is the greatest conceivable being, limitless in his goodness, power, and wisdom, a deep union with God is the most valuable kind of thing. One of the most valuable things we experience in this world is marriage—a kind of deep union with a human being. How much better would union with God be—potentially combined with those others who have union with God?
Robin gives some analogies to help explain what this union is like. Just as in memory, we become acquainted with our past experiences, he thinks that in the afterlife, as well as this life to some degree, we become in some way acquainted with the divine nature. We share in the divine life. It’s analogous to a science fiction story in which people can draw on the love and courage of others directly by, say, wearing a headset.
And this seems to have a great degree of scriptural precedent—the Bible describes in various places a deep union with Christ through the incarnation. Galatians 2:20 says “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” John 17:21-23 says:
21 that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22 I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— 23 I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
The third premise is also plausible. Your connection with a person will be more valuable if they are more virtuous. A person’s friendship with a saint is better and deeper than their friendship with an evildoer. We’d have a deeper and more valuable connection with a God who exemplifies the highest human virtues. In particular, if we in some way tap into the virtues of God, then we’ll have a deeper connection with God through the tapping in process insofar as he exemplifies the highest kinds of virtues.
Analogy: the traits of a parent rub off on their children. A parent who exemplifies every kind of virtue and transmits them to their children would have a deeper and more valuable connection than one who doesn’t. Insofar as each transmitted virtue involves a kind of connection, a God who takes on every virtue will have the deepest connections. Even if a parent could give their children virtues in some other way—e.g. by giving them a pill—this would be less valuable than transmitting them in the normal way, because the kinds of connections forged in parenting through the transmission of virtues are uniquely valuable.
The fourth premise claims that in order for God to exemplify the best kinds of virtues, he must become incarnate. Now, God can exemplify lots of virtues without being incarnate. For instance, God is perfectly loving absent the incarnation. But he needs to be incarnate in order to exemplify some virtues. A God who is never vulnerable can never display courage. The greatest kind of virtue involves willingly undergoing a great sacrifice for the sake of those you love, including your enemies. One cannot make that kind of sacrifice if they never face dangers.
Thus, God takes on flesh and willingly suffers and dies all for the sake of both his allies and enemies. This is needed for him to exemplify the best kind of virtues, as these virtues involve voluntary extreme sacrifice for the sake of his enemies. The incarnation also allows us to be united to God through our suffering, and is thus a very great good.
So to recap, the best kind of good is union with God. The deepest kind of love seeks union; that’s why when people get married they become united in some core way. The best kind of union with God involves a union wherein he exemplifies, and we draw from, the best kinds of virtues. But to exemplify many virtues, he must become incarnate. Thus, from the assumption God is perfectly good, we’d expect him to be incarnate. That’s needed for him to display:
Courage.
Sacrifice for the sake of his friends.
Sacrifice for the sake of his enemies.
The kind of moral courage exemplified when one does what’s right even in the face of danger.
It also allows us to be united to God in our suffering, as Eleanor Stump has pointed out, thus bringing about a great good.
Two other things are notable about the argument. First, not only is this somewhat valuable, it’s infinitely valuable. Insofar as the union with God lasts forever, its overall value is infinite. Second, even if you’re somewhat doubtful of all the steps, it only needs to be a plausible story. Because it’s such a specific view, the odds that humans would come up with such a scheme without divine inspiration are quite low. If it’s even plausible that this is the right story, then the odds of divine inspiration explaining such a picture are much higher.
Analogy: suppose the Bible suggested that the number of people in the Godhead was too large to be a set. Even if you’re not sure independently that there would be that many people in the Godhead, it’s so unlikely humans would come up with that story, that if it’s even plausible that the Godhead has that many people, that will be evidence for the truth of the Bible.
We can give another similar argument (this one didn’t come from Robin though Robin was largely in agreement). I’ve elsewhere given a version of the preexistence theodicy, according to which we preexist our earthly life. On this picture, we voluntarily choose to come to Earth so that we can help other people. The world’s evils serve to make it costly for us to enter the world, so that our entering the world is more valuable; a more valuable connection is forged if you undergo voluntary sacrifice to help someone else than if you help them at no cost to yourself.
Let’s grant that this theodicy is at least plausible. In my view, it’s one of the most likely theodicies to be right, but at the very least, I think it has minimal plausibility. In fact, as I explain, you can run a version of the preexistence theodicy without thinking we actually preexist, so long as God only puts us in this world because he knows we’d retroactively agree to it.
If the theodicy is right, the incarnation is actively expected. If we voluntarily choose to enter the world to help others, we’d expect God to do the same. Thus, so long as the theodicy is at least plausible, the incarnation is plausible. As I’ve explained above, if the incarnation is at least plausible, because it’s so specific, it being part of Christianity gives Christianity a major probabilistic boost.
In addition, so long as philosophical considerations are enough to make Christianity plausible, the historical evidence will likely be enough to seal the deal for Christianity. The historical evidence is good enough that so long as Christianity doesn’t have a super low prior, it will likely be enough to vindicate Christianity. Non-Christians have to think some pretty weird stuff happened including:
Either Jesus’s tomb being empty or a confluence of factors converging to make it look empty.
Several different disciples claiming to see Jesus posthumously.
Paul, the main persecutor of the Church, converting.
James, Jesus’s skeptical brother, converting.
The disciples being willing to suffer and die.
Christianity lasting several hundred years despite facing intense persecution, even without a state.
Christianity producing a profound moral transformation across the world.
Christianity becoming the largest and most diverse religion.
There existing, in the modern day, surprisingly well-attested Christian miracles, like Our Lady of Zeitoun.
I need to give these issues more thought. I’m still not a Christian because I find there to be so much that’s objectionable in the Bible and I find the Trinity very hard to make sense of. But I think this is a very powerful consideration. For all you non-Christians: where do you think it goes wrong?
I have a specific issue with this claim: "This is already, even putting aside the atonement, a pretty surprising coincidence. If the greatest good really comes from a kind of deep union with God, it’s surprising that dwellers in first-century Roman Palestine would come up with the ideal afterlife state. It would be like if the Bible discussed the psychophysical harmony argument at length; it’s so specific that it’s hard to believe they’d think of it by chance."
There shouldn't be anything surprising about communities developing the belief that some sort of union with God would be the greatest possible good. If God is the greatest possible being, then that conclusion follows almost trivially (and that's why it shows up across human cultures in all sorts of religious contexts, from Gnosticism to Hinduism). No one thinks that any of these groups were just guessing about what the greatest good would be, and that they just happened to be right - but once you accept that their conclusion is the straightforward consequence of their general theistic views, then it's not even remotely weird that it would be something that theism predicts, and it doesn't provide any reason to believe the prediction is *true.* That's like someone who believes in the world's most delicious hot dog saying, "Well, if the world's most delicious hot dog does exist, it's a surprising coincidence that people think it's the best hot dog to eat; it's hard to believe they would think the best possible hot dog to eat was the world's most delicious one by chance." No it isn't! It's just a natural consequence of believing that such a thing exists.
<<There existing, in the modern day, surprisingly well-attested Christian miracles, like Our Lady of Zeitoun>>
There is no response to this. In the previous post, you were claiming that some guy grew a limb in 1640, now I guess you found some nonsense in 1968 to make it sound more realistic. (It might be actually time to unsubscribe.) All claims of supernatural events have other explanations.
Alright, I'll take one final stab.
If there are miracles happening in random places at random times, that makes the problem of evil even more pressing. Why doesn't god just drop a banner from the sky that says "stop with the factory farming and all the evil sh*t or else..."? Where are these miracles when innocent babies die of hunger?
That the greatest undergraduate student of philosophy in the world endorses such blatant nonsense like miracles shows the ineffectiveness of philosophy. I'm sad.
I have spent some time scrutinizing your posts. I think you believe in a god for two primary psychological reasons: 1/ you are bothered by certain skeptical arguments and you just want to claim "god made it that way" in response (which was actually Descartes's own response but the dude lived 500 years ago) 2/ you desperately want to believe you'll spend an eternity with your loved ones. I'm sorry man - I recommend the Hume route (backgammon) instead:
<<Most fortunately it happens, that since Reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds, Nature herself suffices to that purpose, and cures me of this philosophical melancholy and delirium, either by relaxing this bent of mind, or by some avocation, and lively impression of my senses, which obliterate all these chimeras. I dine, I play a game of backgammon, I converse, and am merry with my friends. And when, after three or four hours' amusement, I would return to these speculations, they appear so cold, and strained, and ridiculous, that I cannot find in my heart to enter into them any farther.>>