Plantinga, Divine Action, and Free Will
Alvin Plantinga is an excellent philosopher and someone I admire greatly. His new book, Where the Conflict Really Lies, offers great arguments and insights. But when it comes to the relationship between science, God’s action, and creaturely freedom, Plantinga’s proposals disappoint.
After affirming early in his new book that evolution can be compatible with Christian faith, Plantinga addresses divine action and its relation to modern scientific concerns. He begins by laying out his view of God.
Plantinga on God
According to Plantinga, God is all-powerful, all knowing, and wholly good. God created the world out of nothing long ago, and God can instantaneously create something from nothing today. In fact, Plantinga says by way of illustration, that God’s power is such as to be able to “create ex nihilo a full grown horse in the middle of Times Square.” While God conserves the world and acts to sustain it, God also sometimes acts in special ways to bring about miracles. With the Heidelberg Catechism, Plantinga says God either causes or permits whatever happens in the world.
With his brief description of God in place, Plantinga addresses divine action in an age of science. He notes that some Christians accept the metaphysical view that the universe is a closed continuum of cause and effect. They believe God cannot interfere or intervene in that closed system. Divine action for modern science is only a problem, says Plantinga, insofar as one affirms a particular metaphysics according to which the universe is causally closed to divine intervention or interference.
Plantinga makes special mention of the Divine Action Project. This project brought together over a fifteen-year period (1988-2003) leading figures in the science and religion dialogue. He cites project participants – most of whom are religious scholars – who criticize the idea that God ever intervenes or interferes in creation.
Plantinga notes that Divine Action Project participants think belief in divine intervention exacerbates the problem of evil, especially God’s failure to intervene miraculously to prevent evil. Participants also worry that there is an inconsistency between believing that God faithfully upholds natural or cosmological laws, while also God periodically intervenes and overrides those same laws.
In response, Plantinga says that problems pertaining to miraculous intervention aren’t really problems at all. “It isn’t up to us whether or not to allow miraculous intervention,” he says. “God will intervene, miraculously or otherwise, if and when he sees fit.” Planting says that “being omnipotent, [God] can act specially in the universe if he saw fit.” And God will intervene “if he has a good reason for doing so; but why suppose we human beings would be in a position to know when he does and when he doesn’t?” In fact, says Plantinga, “God’s ‘options and possibilities’ are far beyond our ken; his ways are ‘past finding out;’ we can hardly expect to come up with a ‘rock solid criteria’ underlying God’s decisions to act.”
Disappointed in the Appeal to Mystery
I was disappointed when I read Plantinga’s arguments here. We find in them the common appeal to mystery on topics pertaining to divine action. God’s ways are not our ways, he says, God’s ways are past our finding out. We can’t understand why God sometimes intervenes and sometimes does not, Plantinga says, because we are not God.
I think it especially odd that Plantinga would appeal to mystery while criticizing participants in the Divine Action Project. At least project participants take seriously the challenges that the problem of evil has for theories of divine action. And they take seriously the issues that divine intervention raise in relation to scientific explanation.
Project participants worry that the regularity and predictability of causation in the universe would be undermined if God periodically intervened. In response, Plantinga says “all that’s required for purposeful free action is reasonable confidence in substantial regularity in the neighborhood of the proposed action. And that’s certainly compatible with God sometimes intervening.”
The implication of Plantinga’s “substantial regularity” language, of course, is that God must not intervene too much. Doing so would undermine the regularity required for the natural world to persist and for free will to be meaningful. Here we find Plantinga shying away from the “God can do whatever God wants to do” argument. Apparently, there actually are constraints on what God can do, if God also wants some degree of regularity and predictability in creation.
I find few of Plantinga’s arguments about intervention persuasive or satisfying.
On the one hand, he seems quite confident about certain aspects of who God is. God’s essential nature includes the kind of power to create ex nihilo and intervene or interfere as God sees fit. On the other hand, Plantinga is quite willing to appeal to mystery whenever particular conflicts arise with regard to how God’s power relates to the created order. He affirms a view of divine power that raises real questions about evil and miracles, but he appeals to inscrutable reasons God has for doing things.
We need a different view of divine action and divine power than the one Plantinga adopts.
A Better View of God’s Action
We need a clearer understanding of what theists should mean when they say God is specially active or exerts causal influence. Plantinga never tells his readers, for instance, whether God’s intervening is God acting as a sufficient cause. Nor does he speak of God’s causal activity as allowing or requiring creaturely cooperation.
The major issue for most Christians is not whether God acts in the world. For various reasons, most Christians believe God acts. The issue is how God acts.
My own view is that Divine Action Project participants are correct in their view that divine intervention – if understood as God acting as a sufficient cause — creates problems for Christians who want to affirm both scientific investigation and the notion that God works in the world. Divine intervention as sufficient causation creates insuperable obstacles to solving the theoretical aspects of the problem of evil.
Yet I also agree with Plantinga that Christians should affirm that God works in creation and even acts specially in miraculous ways. At stake is how we define divine action, intervention, and the miraculous.
Christians would be wise to say God always acts upon every creature as a necessary and efficient (but not sufficient) cause. God does not ever intervene, if by “intervention” we mean acting as a sufficient cause.
But saying God always acts upon every creature and every part of creation is also to deny that the universe is causally closed from God’s activity. God doesn’t intervene, if by “intervene” we mean entering the created order from the outside. Rather, the omnipresent God is already present to all, and so God doesn’t need to intervene from outside. God acts as a necessary and efficient cause in every entity’s coming to exist.
I also believe we can affirm miracles, so long as we deny that miracles require God acting as a sufficient cause. We should define miracles as extraordinary events in which creatures or creation cooperates with God’s endeavors to promote overall well-being.
We call some events miraculous and others mundane, however, because God’s causal activity varies. God’s varied activity takes into account the creatures involved and what is possible given the environment. This variance isn’t a matter of God arbitrarily choosing to be more or less effective. It’s a matter of the kinds of ways God can act in situations and the degree of cooperation creatures express with God’s empowering and inspiring activity.
Some of God’s actions are rightly deemed miraculous, therefore, in the sense of dramatic events that express God’s goodness. Yet God never intervenes, in the sense of God entirely controlling any creature or situation. To put it another way, God never entirely determines creatures, and yet God’s diverse activity and oscillating influence allows us to deem some events as miraculous, others as mundane, and still others as evil. Those we rightly deem evil are events in which creatures did not cooperate well with God’s calling.
Sum
I think my alternative proposal adequately addresses the concerns of the Divine Action Project participants – e.g., problem of evil and explanatory consistency. But it also handles Plantinga’s concern to talk about special divine action and the miraculous. It does so by rejecting some of Plantinga’s explicit and implicit views of God’s power and activity. It proposes a different view of God’s power that rejects the notion that God acts as a sufficient cause.
I believe I avoid unnecessarily appealing to mystery on those issues central to the science and theology conversation.
Comments
So are you an Aristotelian at heart with a bit of Thomism thrown in, or the other way around? Good article.
Thanks for this. I just recently read the Plantinga book, so this was quite interesting to me. I will need to think about it. I can see the force of the “problem of evil” objection, but I personally do not see much force in the “explanatory consistency” objection.
Divine intervention is a very complicated and convoluted process. Just take the butterfly effect. A butterfly flaps its wings in China and it rains in Florida. This comes from Chaos theory which understands the fact that minor occurrences can lead to major outcomes. Consider the ramifications of the Christ event, it has changed our world. If God’s divine intervention was commonplace, there would be no predictability in life.
Plantinga appears to want to have things both ways. One way is that God’s intervention in nature and humanity is perfectly reasonable and expected. However unable to answer the issues of evil and the consequences of intervention he relegates it to mystery. It would appear he’s perfectly comfortable with the paradox.
Any theological model concerning the intervention of God into nature and humanity needs to be consistent or it is worthless.
Tom, great response to Plantinga. I agree with your criticisms, and for the reasons you suggest. In the many years of the Divine Action Project meetings, we all wanted to appeal to mystery. But we held ourselves to the standard of giving consistent answers—the very standard that Plantinga as a philosopher should uphold!
Question for you Tom: when Jesus (or the Holy Spirit working through Jesus) turns water into wine, was God acting as a sufficient cause? If not, then what would divine sufficient causes look like, if there were any?
Jeez, doc … taking on Plantinga? Out here in Dances With Coyotes country, we’d say you’ve got some big brass ones.
OTOH … despite his formidable qualifications and extensive accomplishments, Plantinga doesn’t do much for me. Once you eliminate all the big werds and convoluted (to we hicks from the sticks, big werds of more than two syllables strung into long sentences is ‘convoluted’) writing, he presents the same arguments we find in Sunday school. God knows everything; God is all-powerful; God is good … and it is Le Grand Mystère as to why bad things happen, but it’s all part of God’s plan, and don’t think much about it unless your thinking validates that God knows everything; God is all-powerful; God is good.
Plantinga strikes me as a Great Validator.
Questioning the Great Minds like Plantinga has always made me feel like Oliver. “Please, sir, can I have some more?”
Only they don’t have more, and all too often the reception from The Great Minds – or at least the Church – is exactly like the one Oliver’s request receives.
But since they are The Great Minds – or the Church – the problem must be me, being stupid or obtuse or simply having all my understanding surpassed.
I’ll tell you who I’d like to sip a few Fat Tires with … Thomas Aquinas. I’d get his knickers twisted over that Summa Theologica thing one way or another. Or maybe it’d be the other way around. But that’s another story.
OK, back we go, to contemplating the Whichness of What and the Thisness of That.
Keep ‘em coming, doc.
OK, let’s see if my comment gets eaten again.
I have three worries with your treatment of Plantinga.
First, I think it’s uncharitable to accuse Plantinga of not “tak[ing]e seriously the challenges that the problem of evil has for theories of divine action,” particularly given other parts of his corpus (e.g., “The Nature of Necessity” and “O Felix Culpa!” to name just two).
Second, Plantinga is well aware that the traditional orthodox position that God can intervene comes with theological ‘costs’. But so does your own position, namely a radical departure from God’s power has been understood throughout the vast majority of Xian history (even among as diverse individuals as Jerome, Aquinas, Calvin, and Wesley).
Finally, your charge that he’s “too quick to appeal to mystery” also strikes me as unwarranted. Not only does he give reasons for why he doesn’t try to give a complete theodicy (again in “The Nature of Necessity” and elsewhere). But he also has indicated that he’s very sympathetic to the work that other philosophers (both Reformed epistemologists and others) say about human cognitive limitations. See, for instance, Alston’s “The Inductive Argument from Evil and the Human Cognitive Condition” and Gutting’s wonderful “Taking St. Paul Seriously: Sin as an Epistemological Category.”
So on the whole, I really don’t think you’ve given Al his due here.
I wish to second Kevin’s remarks and add a couple additional thoughts:
First, I don’t see how Plantinga’s appeal to “mystery” (as Tom puts it) is in any way problematic. In fact, I wouldn’t even call it an appeal to mystery, but rather an appeal to epistemic modesty concerning divine purposes and actions. Appeal to mystery is problematic when used to dismiss a serious prima facie conceptual conflict. Here Tom’s idea seems to be that divine intervention (as Plantinga understands it) poses a serious prima facie conceptual problem for vis-a-vis the problem of evil. Perhaps it does. But that’s not a problem with Plantinga’s notion of intervention per se. Suppose Plantinga thinks (and I’m pretty sure he does) that some combination of theodicy plus epistemic modesty is sufficient to defuse the problem Tom alludes to. In that case, a further appeal to epistemic modesty to defend a classical notion of divine intervention is not dodging the problem but simply a reflection of Plantinga’s belief that the problem can be satisfactorily met in ways that do not require tweaking the classical conception of divine intervention. Tom obviously disagrees, but then that’s where the discussion needs to go. The inappropriate appeal to mystery charge is, in my opinion, not very fair or helpful.
Second, there’s no tension between the claims that “God can do whatever God wants to do” and the claim that there are constraints on what God can do, IF God also wants some degree of regularity and predictability in creation. So there need be no “shying away” on Plantinga’s part. The first claim does not entail an absence of constraints on what God can do. It only entails that any constraints on what can God can do are also constraints on what God can want to do.
Thanks to you all for your comments. Here are a few quick responses:
Jeanine – I’m influenced by both philosophers.
Craig – the explanatory consistency comes in at the level of whether God upholds regularity in nature or intervenes to upend that regularity.
Jeff – Jesus turning water into wine would not require acting as a sufficient cause.
Others- thanks for your comments!
Kevin – I didn’t mean to imply that Al never takes the problem of evil seriously. I’ve read some of his other material, and although I don’t agree with his proposals, I recognize that he takes the issue with seriousness. I simply don’t think he takes it with much seriousness in this book and in relation to the discussion I mention with regard to the divine action project.
Alan and Kevin—your comments (and some email comments from John Sanders) have me grasping for better language to talk about the proper and improper places for mystery. I often talk about this in terms of three levels of explanation: meta, hypothesis, and details. I’ll send my thoughts using this typology, if you’re really interested. But I think I’ll try to use Alan’s language above to express my worry about Al’s approach to God’s power and evil.
Al seems not too concerned about epistemic modesty when he says God either causes or permits all things. That’s part of his starting position, as he affirm the Heidelberg confession. I doubt he’d say he knows these things with absolute certainty, but he doesn’t say something like “It’s a mystery, but God causes or permits all things.”
But when the issues of evil emerge, he does appeal to “God’s ways are not our ways.” But how does he think he knows this? It seems to me he appeals to this because he’s already committed to a particular view of divine power.
I wish he’d reexamine his view of divine power. Of course, I’m not holding my breath that he will change his view on this. But I want my readers to ask themselves whether Al’s prior commitment to views about God’s power are—to use Kevin’s language—really worth the cost.
Thanks to you all for helping me hone my ideas, even if you don’t agree with me!
Tom
Having recently read Plantinga’s work as well, I was wondering if you could, perhaps, provide some conceptual clarity on what you think God acting as a sufficient cause entails.
Any examples would be helpful as well.
Lastly, I forgot to mention, can you also give me a better understanding of your view on omnipresence?
In what sense is God “already present to all” such that he “doesn’t need to intervene from outside.”
Tom,
I admit I haven’t read the present book under issue. But surely you can appreciate that one can only do so much in a single book and, from what I gather, giving a full account of providence and a reply to the PoE isn’t his primary goal in “Where the Conflict Really Lies.” At the very least, for charity’s sake you should indicate that these are issues that he’s thought long and hard about, and addressed in substantial detail elsewhere.
I also agree with Alan’s comments regarding mystery above. I’d definitely be interested in your comments on this if you want to send them my way.
“I wish he’d reexamine his view of divine power. Of course, I’m not holding my breath that he will change his view on this. But I want my readers to ask themselves whether Al’s prior commitment to views about God’s power are—to use Kevin’s language—really worth the cost.” And I think the very same thing about you. As you know, I think you’re importantly wrong on how to think about power and providence. Is the denial that God can do /anything/ unilaterally worth the cost? It doesn’t seem to me to be so, for it seems to vitiate orthodoxy, as well as our Christian hope.
Despite our disagreement on this issue, I want to reiterate that I greatly value you as a colleague and as a fellow Christian brother. I know you know this, but I want it to be ‘on the record’ for other readers of your blog that may not otherwise know.
I *have* read the book and will be using it in my Science and Religion course this fall. I understand why the DAP folks don’t like it, but I agree with Al that what they sometimes call ‘science’ is actually naturalistic philosophy in a trench coat and sun glasses. We need to carefully distinguish between what a given bit of science entails and what it presupposes.
And since Kevin put it so well, allow me to reaffirm what he says in his last paragraph. I wish that all of our paths crossed more often.
“It seems to me he appeals to this because he’s already committed to a particular view of divine power.”
Tom, with all due respect (and you know this is not an empty phrase), I think the quote applies to you as well. God CAN never be a sufficient cause because you’re already committed to a particular view of divine power, as a result of the way you deal with the problem of theodicy. I have to admit it always worries me when the Scriptures and the events they describe must be read in a certain way in order to fit an argument. Of course I am guilty of that myself as well, and I guess I’m no exception. But it should at least give us pause.
Secondly, an appeal to mystery can indeed be an easy way out of a faulty theoretical system. As such, we should reject it. But I feel we should also reject any system that seems to have God all figured out, stating what He can or cannot do.
We should, because by definition, God is more than we are.
But more importantly, because the message of the Scriptures is that we should trust Him, based on His saving actions. Not because they explain Him completely. “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.” That is the reason. And of course, the NT adds to that the incredible event of the crucified God.
I don’t think we trust people because we have them all figured out. We trust them when we have found they have been trustworthy in what they did. It seems to me the same applies to God. Hence Paul wrote:
16 For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. 17 For in it the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith; as it is written, “The one who is righteous will live by faith.”
And that righteousness of God is nothing else than His saving actions.
Respectfully submitted,
Hans
It is clear that your objection to creation ex nihilo is partly motivated by a desire to get God off the hook for not intervening to prevent evil. Plantinga, whether humbly or evasively, appeals to mystery and our own epistemic limitations. I too find this appeal inadequate, but I also find the mystery of God always creating from something he has already created, and yet that something not being co-eternal equally mysterious.
Does the warfare model presented by Boyd in God at War offer a third alternative to the problem of evil? Christ himself refers to Satan as the ruler of this world. Certainly redemption can be seen as happening in a legal context where we are bought and transferred into a kingdom where God can legally work more freely in us and through us.
Understanding the biblical teaching regarding the legal context of redemption may give us the best understanding of evil and why God does and does not intervene. Best perhaps, but certainly not without unanswered questions.