One Philosopher’s Reflections on Another Philosopher’s Memoirs

Review of Nicholas Wolterstorff, In This World of Wonders: Memoir of a life in Learning (Eerdmans, 2019)

There were several reasons why I was very keen to read Wolterstorff’s memoirs. First, I have always enjoyed reading autobiographies. We need to hear one another’s stories. Most often I find biographies and autobiographies inspiring as I reflect on someone else’s life experiences. Given my own background as a Christian philosopher, I was of course especially interested in reading the memoirs of a fellow Christian philosopher. Secondly, I have been very much influenced by Reformed philosophers like Wolterstorff. Indeed, I credit Reformed philosophers for my own philosophical salvation. So again, I wanted to read the memoirs of the man who wrote Reason within the Bounds of Religion, which so profoundly shaped my own thinking many years ago. Thirdly, I was in the middle of writing my own autobiography when I first read Wolterstorff’s memoirs, and so I was hoping that I might get a few tips on what a memoir by a philosopher should look like.

I was not disappointed on all counts. The Preface alone is worth the price of the book. Wolterstorff describes his reluctance in taking up the challenge of writing his memoirs. Who would want to read the story of a man whose life was rather “boring,” who spent most of his time reading books, thinking hard, and preparing and giving lectures? And isn’t it rather egotistical to write one’s memoirs? These were questions I was wrestling with in writing my own autobiography. It helped to have a fellow Christian philosopher give expression to these concerns.

There are other features of this book that encouraged me in my own writing project. Wolterstorff moves easily from personal family matters to academic politics to philosophical discussions. Philosophers are after all persons with lives that transcend the world of philosophy. What surprized me was how open Wolterstorff was in criticizing some of his professors, colleagues and students. I had been agonizing about this in writing my own autobiography. Wolterstorff’s memoir encouraged me to name the difficult persons I had encountered in my academic career and in the church. It certainly makes for more interesting reading.

In This World of Wonders includes a good review of Wolterstorff’s own philosophical writings. I was again reminded of the breadth of his writing. I loved his description of the writing process (pp. 292ff). Yes, new thoughts that come to mind as one is thinking and writing about a topic, is “truly mysterious.” And the “seesaw of emotional frustration and gratification” while writing is spot on (p. 294). I was also inspired by Wolterstorff’s description of his love of writing and the call to write in line with his abilities and opportunities (p. 296).

I especially appreciated Wolterstorff’s review of Reformed epistemology that he and Alvin Plantinga spearheaded (pp. 179ff). I was however a little puzzled about his comments that at Calvin College, they were not at all concerned about arguments for the existence of God (p. 56). Puzzled, because later he admits that Plantinga has been very concerned to show that it is not unreasonable to believe in God (p. 243). And earlier Wolterstorff himself expresses sympathy with the fine-tuning argument for the existence of God (p. 211). Now I realize that one important ingredient of Reformed epistemology is that belief in God might be a basic belief, and that arguments are therefore not necessary. But the argument that belief in God is a basic belief is still a kind of argument. I see both Wolterstorff and Plantinga very much involved in apologetics, though apologetics in a different key.

I also appreciated Wolterstorff’s moving account of the death of his son in Chapter 7. Here he explains why he became uninterested in theodicy, i.e. justifying the goodness of God in the face of evil and suffering. Yes, painful experiences have a way of making rational arguments seem rather futile. And yet, he couldn’t give up on God (p. 210). Again, he was forced to live with mystery. Yes, indeed.

 I was very interested in Wolterstorff’s reflections on teaching philosophy. I couldn’t help but take note of a comment about his experiences after he returned to Yale to teach in the Divinity School. He recalls that every once in a while a student would raise his hand and say something to the effect: “But as Jesus says in John 5 …” (p. 250). Wolterstorff goes on to say that this was always in indicator that this student was evangelical and he was speaking as if he were at an evangelical campfire. And then this: “I would take such a student aside afterwards and say that he could make approximately the same point he was trying to make, but that he had to learn to make it in a voice appropriate to a Yale philosophy classroom rather than in a voice appropriate to an evangelical campfire.”

Here I cannot resist engaging in some philosophical analysis. Why is quoting what Jesus says in John 5 distinctively evangelical? Wouldn’t (or shouldn’t) liberal Christians use this same kind of language? Or is Wolterstorff indulging in a liberal bias against evangelicals? Another question: Exactly what is the difference between camp-fire talk and talk within a philosophy classroom? Is philosophical talk superior to camp-fire talk? And if this is what is implied, is this not rather patronizing and condescending? Or does the making of this contrast reveal the dark side of intellectual embarrassment about any talk about Jesus? Surely at a divinity school it should be appropriate to quote Jesus. Or, must all such quoting be done in a “critical” fashion as befits a philosophy classroom? Maybe, just maybe, there are problems with the critical approaches to theology that are in vogue today. I would further suggest that Wolterstorff’s contrast and implicit critique of Jesus talk goes counter to his own critique of John Rawls and Rawls’s argument that in the public sphere only rational “neutral” arguments are allowed, only appeals to “public reason” (p. 271ff). Is this not what Wolterstorff is doing when he demands of his evangelical students that they not argue from within their own tradition?

But there is more. “Evangelicals often interpret the hostility they experience in academic settings as hostility to Christianity, or more specifically, as hostility to evangelical Christianity. Sometimes it is that, but not always. Sometimes it’s a reaction to the fact that the voice in which the evangelical is speaking is inappropriate to the situation” (p. 250). Again, all the questions I have raised in the previous paragraph apply. I’m glad that Wolterstorff at least added the word “sometimes.” I have certainly experienced hostility to Christianity and evangelical Christianity in the secular academic world. I still remember giving a paper at a conference at the University of Toronto where I was defending the possibility of an ethical form of evangelism, and where I experienced obvious and open hostility to my philosophical defense of the possibility of ethical forms of evangelism. And I didn’t quote John 5! I have to wonder whether Wolterstorff has not experienced more hostility because his is the voice of a liberal Christianity, which is more acceptable at a liberal university. Perhaps also his reputation is such that colleagues are more circumspect in expressing their opposition to Wolterstorff’s arguments.

I hope that the above critical reflections will not detract from all that is good and inspiring about Wolterstorff’s memoirs. Philosopher’s simply can’t help but engage in critical reflection! Much more could be said about In This World of Wonders, but my intent in this blog is just to share a few of my reflections on this superb autobiography. I am thankful that Wolterstorff overcame his initial reluctance in writing his memoirs. His vignettes and many stories were indeed inspiring. I gained a deeper understanding of the man who has shaped my own thinking over the years. And I learned a few lessons about how to write a philosopher’s autobiography. For those interested in another autobiography/memoir of a philosopher, see my Stumbling Heavenward: One Philosopher’s Journey (Mill Lake Books, 2021).

American Evangelicals and Trump

Tim Alberta, The Kingdom the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism (New York: Harper, 2023)

The primary purpose of this blog is to encourage you to read Tim Alberta’s The Kingdom the Power, and the Glory. My intent is not to write a careful review of the book. It is instead an endorsement of an important book for our time.

Tim Alberta is an award-winning journalist, best-selling author, and staff writer for The Atlantic magazine. More importantly for the book he wrote, Tim Alberta is himself an evangelical, the son of a pastor, Reverend Richard J. Alberta, who grew a church in Brighton, Michigan– Cornerstone Evangelical Presbyterian Church– from a few hundred to a few thousand members. In the first few chapters Tim Alberta describes his upbringing, his home church, and his father’s gradually increasing sympathies with Christian nationalism, though avoiding the extremism of most of the characters described in the book.

As an evangelical himself, Tim Alberta is able to help us understand the mindset of evangelicals who have become ardent Trump supporters. And this is an important contribution. Far too often American evangelical supporters of Trump are written off as unintelligent and irrational. But there are reasons why some 75 to 85% of American evangelicals are enamoured with Trump. Their convictions about the world we live in are grounded in some biblical truths. There is a spiritual battle going on in this world (Eph 5:10-17). Jesus taught us that the world will hate us (Matt 10:22). We are called to be salt and light in “a crooked and perverse generation” (Phil 2:15; Matt 5:13-16).

The problem is that these biblical truths have somehow gotten twisted in the minds of many American evangelicals. Yes, there is a spiritual battle going on in this world, but it is a spiritual battle. We are not fighting against “enemies of flesh and blood,” but “against spiritual forces of evil in heavenly places, and thus prayer might be a lot more appropriate than trying to achieve power (Eph 6:12 – NRSV). Trump supporters also forget that Jesus taught us to love our enemies (Matt 5:43-8). They forget that we are called to be peace-loving (Matt 5:9; Heb 12:14). They forget that Jesus lived in a very similar hostile political environment and ultimately went to the cross, praying “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Ultimately, the problem is idolatry. Alberta reminds us that we cannot worship both God and the gods of this world. Sadly, too many American evangelicals are trying to do both. “Too many of them worship America.” (p. 23). Too many of them are kneeling at the altar of Donald Trump.

Alberta also gives us a careful analysis of the current political scene and the factors that have led evangelicals to support Trump. And here again, there are some legitimate concerns. There are many values held by Democrats that go quite contrary to biblical principles. For example, Democrats are ardent supporters of abortion. Liberal progressivism has become rather aggressive. The media and chattering classes tend to be leftist and anti-christian. Prayers have been banished in public schools. Secularization is on the rise.

And then there was the pandemic, when many leaders in government shut down churches. This was the sign for many evangelicals that the barbarians were at the gates. “Desperate times called for desperate … measures” (p. 116). Hence the defensiveness of evangelicals, and the urge to destroy their enemies and dominate the country by any means necessary (p. 258). But again, Alberta is at pains to show that this is not at all in keeping with Jesus’ teaching and example.

Alberta has done his homework, criss-crossing the country, attending church services, assemblies, and rallies, interviewing hundreds of evangelical leaders and pastors. We get an inside look at some very unsavoury characters like Jerry Falwell Jr., Eric Metaxes, Charlie Kirk, Ralph Reed, and David Barton, people with a bottomless appetite for self-promotion and a lust for power and wealth. At times one wants to quit reading, but the stories are gripping even though they are so sad.

Fortunately, the book ends on a positive note. There are evangelicals who are trying to turn things around. For example, David French has taken up journalism to support the cause of moderate evangelicals. Russell Moore, once a prominent leader in the Southern Baptist Convention, is now criss-crossing the country, encouraging pastors who are trying to decouple faith from politics. David French, Curtis Chang, and Russell Moore have created a “Good Faith Podcast,” trying to counter the false teaching that is so prevalent in evangelical churches (p. 345). They also see the need for careful discipling of Christians and have therefore developed a teaching program, “The After Party: Towards Better Christian Politics” (p. 346). They had problems getting funding for this program from Christians, and so went to secular sources who were supportive because these secularists realised that they had for too long marginalized evangelicals. Says Chang: “Maybe if we use the resources of the secular world to heal the evangelical Church, then we can also use the spirit of the evangelical Church to heal the secular world” (p. 347).

I will confess that I got a bit tired of the lengthy detailed and sometimes repeat descriptions of people with twisted minds and sometime very twisted characters. But detail is also a strength of the book. No one will be able to accuse Alberta of not having done his homework. If you want a shorter version of the book, read Tim Alberta’s article in the Jan/Feb, 2024 issue of The Atlantic magazine: “My Father, My Faith, and Donald Trump.” Another option is to listen to a video which provides a good summary of Alberta’s book. https://www.pbs.org/wnet/firing-line/video/tim-alberta-ufn5x7/

If you want to understand the very sad story of widespread evangelical support for Donald Trump and come to a better understanding of why it is so misplaced, read or listen to Tim Alberta.