Conversations from Campus: Cumulative Case 2

Last week I suggested that making a cumulative case for something is like a lawyer trying to convince a jury that a man--call him Smith--committed a certain crime. The lawyer "accumulates" small arguments and adds them together to make a persuasive case:

Weapon + motive + opportunity = case made. Case proven? Probably not. Still, very convincing. Smith is most likely convicted by a jury of his peers.

In conversation, I usually launch my cumulative case for Christian faith via the topic of origins (cosmology). Generally, there are three main possibilities:

1. The world always existed.
2. The world came into existence by itself (e.g. The Big Bang).
3. God made the world.

We could conceive of other possibilities as well. These are probably the big 3. 

#1 assumes a stream of cause-effect relationships that stretch back into eternity. One rightly wonders where the whole series came from, however. Why is there anything at all? Something rather than nothing?

#2 assumes that "everything came from nothing." Philosophically problematic. You don't get anything, let alone everything, from nothing.

#3 is the simplest explanation. The world was made by a loving, powerful God. In fact, when we look around at the world and see human beings, animals, the order of stars and planets, the DNA molecule, the laws of nature--it's just the type of world we'd expect to find if an infinite loving God exists.

And, says British philosopher Richard Swinburne, we wouldn't expect to find such a world on a purely materialist explanation (which says that matter and energy are all that exist).*

Unfortunately I'm already up against my time limit with you. 

But it's OK. In real conversations I usually don't have the luxury of long hours with a skeptic. I have to move fast. 

There's at least a summary of step 1 in cumulative case-making.

* Richard Swinburne, Is There a God? Oxford, 2010 ed. See esp. ch 4.
graphic credit: http://goo.gl/nupR83

Conversations from Campus: Cumulative Case 1

The International Center, Michigan State University, dining area:

We grabbed a table and set up a simple white-board sign that said "Questions about Christianity?" with my name underneath.

No one in Lansing has ever heard of me.

Ten InterVarsity students gathered around the table and began asking me questions.

A young atheist emerged. He was sharp, courteous, unsmiling.

His opener was this: How is Jesus any different than Zeus?

I said that Jesus was real, Zeus was not.

The atheist asked what I'd think if a group of zealots set up a church and began worshiping Zeus.

"Crazy," was my response.

"That's my point," the atheist said. "Worshiping Jesus is no different."

I said there are good reasons to believe in Jesus, then I proceeded to make a "cumulative case." That is, I marshaled together converging lines of evidence from origins, design, history, philosophy and experience.

Think of a cumulative case this way: Say I'm a member of a jury. A lawyer tries to convince me that Smith committed a crime.

I learn from the lawyer that Smith owns a gun. No big deal, I say to myself. Guns are everywhere.

But Smith also had a motive. 

OK, now you've got my attention. Gun-plus-motive is at least interesting.

And Smith can be placed in the general vicinity of the crime, the lawyer informs me.

Any single piece of evidence can be explained away. Gun, motive, circumstance -- taken individually, not persuasive.

But the combination of all three? Pretty convincing.

Similarly, the "cumulative case" for faith is a combo platter of arguments that reinforce each other, like interwoven strands of sturdy rope.

Next week I'll share a bit of the cumulative case itself.


rope graphic credit: http://image.marginup.com/u/u57/paper%20carrier%20rope.gif

On the Road

I'm on the road at campuses in Michigan. Talk to you next week!

Character 12: Modeling What?

William was powerful, influential, a "leader of the pack."

People revered, quoted, even feared him.

You walked lightly around William because if he outed you, your days of having any status with the in crowd were numbered.

William possessed an astonishing arsenal of tools for manipulating others. He was cynical, funny and volatile. His quick tongue could recast any situation to his advantage with a logic that, in the heat of the moment, seemed weirdly plausible.

Me as an impressionable teen

As a teenager, I watched him. Emulated him. William became my hero, I his disciple. He was 10 years older than me and barely knew my name.

Thus in my formative years I skipped over beer and pot and went right for the hard stuff: winning. A truly euphoric drug.

William had taught me well.

******

40 years later, I have no clue of William's whereabouts.  I've long since ditched him for Jesus.

And now I have the opportunity to model something for a younger generation (or two). What will it be? The William-style wisdom of one-upsmanship and sarcasm? Of gaining advantage?

That is my fear. Perhaps, however, I'll be given the grace to demonstrate a life of service, care and a softer tongue.

How about you? What are you currently modeling? What do you wish to model for the watching eyes around you?

Feel free to leave a comment or email me.