in doing so, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” winds up being translated into “I am the way, the truth, and the life, because what I say (my words) echo universal truths, that I am a good example to follow, and that by following my example you will lead a good life.” Jesus is then a philosopher who can be evaluated like other philosophers, and there is no connection to salvation, afterlife, and faith.”

This is a good and accurate summary of the problem; however, the Euthyphro dilemma is only a problem if some form of “divine-command” ethics is held. The problem evaporates in natural-law ethics, given a doctrine of divine simplicity: (1) On the one hand, Christian moral commands are not arbitrary because they arise out of God’s essentially good nature, not an arbitrary Will; (2) on the other hand, Christian moral commands cannot be reduced to just one philosophy among many, for exactly the same reason: they arise out of the nature of God, which is essentially good and also unchanging.

This argument can still be entered into secular debate while the “divine-command” argument seemingly cannot. This argument can because one can know the effect of a cause (in this case, cognition of moral commands) without necessarily knowing the cause itself (or Cause Himself). Even an atheist can recognize the authority of morality built upon natural rationality.

Characterizing the “blended” synthesis as consisting in less than coherent fragments is true at one level; at this level, it’s helpful to see each student as holding parts of multiple belief “systems.”

On a deeper level, however, I think it is necessary to see the worldview amalgamation not as incoherent per se, but actually as coherent because philosophical modernity has displaced religious truth claims (and any other truth claims concerning value, meaning and purpose) from the realm of objective knowledge and has thus relativized them into mere preferences… and preferences actually are mutually coherent. In that sense, “blending” is coherent.

What remains of “objective” knowledge is actually quite well shared across seemingly “diverse” people in the classroom: the “harm principle,” scientific empiricism and Cartesian epistemology, caring for the poor (though personal or impersonal bureaucratic means), acceptance of any new, more powerful technology, any sexual activity legitimated by consent and moderation (though not chastity), globalization, kindness/being nice, free roads/spatial mobility, social mobility, cheap commodities, etc. These are the ideas, practices, artifacts, and institutions, the fruits of modernity.

To see the truth of this, I suspect one only needs to see the lives of students outside of the classroom alongside their scholarly time, how their social practices and careers and spending habits embody modernity.

Which is to say, it’s not just about worldview (though worldview is essential). This book would be helpful in your pursuits, I believe. Take a look.

By engaging in the dialogue “what is right?” with multiple perspectives, including non-Christian, I don’t see how one cannot do anything but reduce the Christian perspective to one of many, and in doing so, you are playing by the rules of secular debate.

Secular ethics, to me, reenacts Plato’s Euthyphro. One cannot say, this is right because I know it is right, or this book (the Bible) says it is right. That does not convince those who don’t adhere to your position. One must look for the universal truths that underlie the Christian perspective. It’s not enough to say that Jesus says this or that. One must say Jesus says this or that, and it is true because this or that is true, independent of what Jesus says.

in doing so, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” winds up being translated into “I am the way, the truth, and the life, because what I say (my words) echo universal truths, that I am a good example to follow, and that by following my example you will lead a good life.” Jesus is then a philosopher who can be evaluated like other philosophers, and there is no connection to salvation, afterlife, and faith.

If Jesus’s words resonate truth to the students, then they may find a greater truth with Him, namely that of salvation. But the Christian perspective, in secular debate, rests on words and ideas, rather than belief and faith.

It is an unfortunate fact that some people who inhabit theological blogs and discussion groups appear to be more interested in arguing and fighting over every single point made and issue raised.

Hopefully, the argument is made in a more polite and less nerdly fashion, but that’s the gist of it. If there truly is no overlap in world views, then point 1) is a non-starter and all argument is hopeless. That’s why I say the argument is simultaneously made from within our world view and that of our audience.

So, I would say every bit and piece of the Christian world view the little weezers adopt is a good thing, because it will make it harder for them to keep carrying around the other stuff.

And I once worked with a Catholic teacher who opened up about his faith to me after we did a session on the Renaissance. He was there to answer my questions. I agree with Craig that it is fine to give an answer involving theology and the Bible when you are questioned on it.

I think this whole issue of presenting a systematic Christian worldview comes into play for me now as someone who works in a secular setting. I am very clear with my colleagues that I am a Christian, and when they ask me questions about certain holidays (like Pascha), I answer them. However, I do not come in every day preaching the gospel to them. Don’t get me wrong–the gospel is the foundation of my entire life–but I am trying to witness to others through my actions rather than always by my words.

I also can’t help thinking that Lewis’ analogy of looking at a beam of light vs. looking along a beam of light has something to do with this conversation. Or put another way – in trying to talk to someone about Christianity, we can do one of two things: We can try to step outside of our world-view and address the very specific issue they’re raising. In so doing, we’re walking to them, standing next to them and pointing at a beam of light. But what if instead of that we see all the questions as in some way being addressed by Christianity and invite them, instead, to stand next to us and look along the beam of light?

Practically speaking, I remember a conversation we’d had about free will while I was at Rochester L’Abri. We spent a lot of time trying to defend the Bible’s view of free will to a student and the conversation was going nowhere. But then we turned it around and said, “Well, let’s back up. Supposing all these things [basic statement of a Christian world-view] are true, where does that leave free will? Moreover, assuming your presuppositions about the world are true, where does that leave free will?” At that point he realized that in the former case, free will isn’t as central and in the latter case it doesn’t exist anyway because there’s no consistent humanistic philosophy that can really preserve free will.

Anyway, that’s my two cents. Thanks for posting Sarah.

I think, regarding the issues raised in the original posting, students actually respect a full-fledged Christian theological response more than a (as you put it) “bits and pieces approach.”

The movement from a “human-nature” anthropology to full-fledged Christian theology is fairly simple. Why is it that humans know what is right and wrong but consistently fail at implementing what is right? And soon we are talking about the Christian distinction between the good creation of natural kinds and the corruption of human nature through sin.

For perhaps the first time in their adult lives, many students seem to see that the Christian view of human nature is the one that makes sense of themselves and their own experience.