Flat and Layered Morality

“Because the Bible says so!” is a common refrain when a Christian is called to defend a moral point. Predictably, this tends to result in derision from non-believers, and often enough this derision is, I am sad to think, just. “The Bible says so!” is a useful and significant statement so long as it means “here is a relevant biblical passage – we ought to be attentive to it” – and not “here is a relevant biblical passage – no further argument is admissible”. The latter supposes morality as “flat”, in the sense that it is decided unequivocally by single lines or statements without need for any further reference, while the former admits the possibility of “layers” – for eg. delving beyond the simple wording into the context of the passage, comparing with other related texts, considering its integration into a larger system of moral thought, etc.

Making this distinction is useful so that we might be more cognizant of our own approaches to thinking about morality vis-a-vis Scripture, and so that we can compare the merits of both approaches. Many Christians, I think, tend to find themselves in “flat” territory, and it may not be clear why this might be problematic or dangerous. Especially since the alternative – the “layered” approach – may seem to lack the solidity of straightforward Scriptural backing and thus seem uncertain, and suspiciously close to secular thought.

there is simply no way to say that Scripture must be taken absolutely literally in its entirety without reducing it to absurdity

However there are several reasons why “flat” reasoning in morality is pretty much untenable on scrutiny, at least on a Christian perspective. In the first place, any reasonable student of the Bible must agree that it is an exegetical work – that is to say, it is a work that requires interpretive effort to make sense of. It is no real secret that Scripture contradicts itself variously when taken in the most literal, non-contextual sense, and so there is simply no way to say that Scripture must be taken absolutely literally in its entirety without reducing it to absurdity. This is the insurmountable wall that confronts any radically fundamentalist position.

Now if the Bible is indeed an exegetical work, then it becomes necessary by default to ask deeper questions about any particular part of text we are presently interpreting. What and for whom is it written for. When is it written. What is its relative importance compared to other parts of Scripture. Asking questions like these is the essence of exegesis. Accordingly when we settle for one particular interpretation of a bit of Scripture, there must necessarily be reasons for the interpretation – reasons that can be defended or attacked. We do this in fact as part of pretty much standard practice in much of modern Christianity. For eg, we are not normally too fazed by the existence of difficult verses in books like Leviticus because modern Christian exegesis puts Jesus Christ – the living Word – at the forefront of our faith, and thus enables us to prioritize and contextualize the rest of Scripture using the lens of Jesus’ own teaching. When a modern Christian acts, he has the teachings of Christ much closer to his heart than the laws in the Pentateuch. This does not of course mean that Leviticus should be ignored(*), but rather that we must seek an understanding of it that is compatible with Christ – and so think deeper than the mere literal senses of the texts in that book. This is in fact exegesis – and thus layered morality in action.

If a work is exegetical, then it is exegetical all through and it would be silly to suppose that there is some partition that immunizes certain passages from the necessity of interpretation

Being now aware of this, what we must be wary of is “trying to have it both ways”. It may be tempting to think that while “layered” exegesis of Leviticus is justifiable, the words of Christ in the Gospels (say) must be taken at “flat” face-value. If a work is exegetical, then it is exegetical all through and it would be silly to suppose that there is some partition that immunizes certain passages from the necessity of interpretation. At the very least, someone who wants to make a claim like “the words of Christ in the Gospels must be taken in full literalness” must be aware that his claim is in fact itself an act of interpretation, and must thus be as such open to challenges and must be defended with reason. So long as Scripture is exegetical, we can never say that an isolated piece of Scripture is authoritative purely on its own.

So long as Scripture is exegetical, we can never say that an isolated piece of Scripture is authoritative purely on its own.

A little further reflection on God and Scripture will lead us to another reason to be suspicious of “flat” moral judgements. If the revelation of God-given morality happens in bits and pieces scattered across the books of Scripture, then either these revelations are part of a greater integrated Whole, or they are just what they are – disparate pieces. Now, if individual Scriptural verses are absolutely authoritative on their own, then they are disparate pieces – because if they are part of a greater Whole, then it must be meaningful to talk about and interpret them based on their relationship with each other and how they fit together. So either we must abandon “flat” judgement, or we must accept that God’s revelation can show up in absolutely unrelated pieces. But what does it really mean to accept the latter? Can we truly reconcile our belief in one God with N different fully-autonomous rules? It seems to me, no. We say that God is Good, that God is Love – and that naturally implies a kind of unity in His divine Essence. Jesus Himself declared all the Law and the Prophets as derivative of the Great Commandment. We, too, naturally see connections between common moral ideas – I should not commit robbery because hurting my neighbours is bad and because being greedy at my neighbours’ expense is bad because I ought to love my neighbour because love is good. I cannot but think the Glory of God demands a complete Whole, a fuller Splendour that unites all Good in Him. If I am right, then “flat” morality simply cannot hold.

Can we truly reconcile our belief in one God with N different fully-autonomous rules?

Finally, we must consider that “flat” morality alienates unbelievers, while “layered” morality holds out the chance to engage them. Now while some believers may be dismissive of the idea of debating non-believers on stuff like morality, I believe that such dialogue is becoming increasingly critical in our world. I have already previously argued for why it is important for religious voices to join society’s discourses – but this can only happen if discussions can go further than simple appeals to isolated verses. Thankfully, by the arguments above, it seems undeniable that Christian morality at any rate is more nuanced and reasoned than mere “flat”ness. The sense of Scripture delves deeper than its mere words of language. We ought to consider that both you and I are today Christian because, in all likelihood, something about Christianity has appealed to our innate humanity. If Christianity is good and true, then we could expect its ideas to be naturally appealing to any unbiased and sincere human being – and I have great faith that it is.

If our deepest intuitions of Goodness is a part of the image of God imprinted in all of us, we can hope that, properly presented, the ideas of the Christian faith will also resonate with the best intuitions of people who are yet outside the faith. In a time where the foreseeable future remains peppered with likely friction between faithful and secular peoples, our ability to, through our Christian values, hold out resonant appeals to lofty, universally-recognizable goodness will be critical to our ability to anchor the course of human society and defend what is sane and good. God willing, it may also help to bring more into the fold of the Faith – and, chances are, for all the right reasons.

(*) I should add a little emphasis here to the fact that I don’t for a moment think Scripture is redundant. Just because we shouldn’t take many verses in the Scriptural books of law literally doesn’t mean they deserve no attention. Quite the contrary – the difficulty and complexity of Scripture is fertile grounds for lifelong meditation, prayer, and communal exegesis. Its tendency to stick out in all sorts of unexpected ways help immunize us from the lure of overly simple and “rounded” philosophies. No matter what stage of wisdom we think we have attained, Scripture ensures that new grounds for humility and learning always await our seeking – yet undiscovered, yet richer ways to learn about and interact with our God. This, too, is another wonderful outcome of a “layered” attitude towards Scripture.

Homosexuality – a Christian defense

On the subject of homosexuality, I do not here write thinking to add anything novel to what has already been hitherto known and argued. The material is out there, but, perhaps, not numerous nor loud enough, and so I think to add my voice to chorusing what I myself believe with regards to a topic that is still controversial and divisive even among mainstream Christians – indeed even amongst people in the same church and denomination. I think those of us who are able to ought to contribute to the unfolding discourse, and participate as members of the body of Christ as the Church steers its way through these new waters.

Now in discussing whether or not homosexuality is a sin, I should first like to emphatically note that our Lord, in His ministering to the downtrodden, oppressed, and hungry of His time, never counted the sins nor the sinfulness of His charges. He mingled with prostitutes and lepers while rebuking the teachers who disdained Him for it. And so with Christ as our master, be homosexuality a sin or not, there should be no question as to the correct treatment which the Church and her charges owe to homosexual men and women who come to her doors. They must be served, loved, and protected. Any discussion about the sinfulness of homosexuality may only properly proceed after we establish this as a basic consensus.

Now, in considering the question of whether homosexuals ought to be permitted to – and be protected in the course of – pursuing romance and relationships analogous to heterosexual ones, but with men or women of the same sex, I should think that the very tenor of the Christian faith first compels us to say “yes”. After all, as a religion and as a philosophy of life, Christianity heavily emphasizes care for our fellow man. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves, we are to sell our riches and give to the poor. Those who are hungry we are to feed, those who are thirsty we are to water. We are to invite in the stranger, clothe the naked, look after the sick, visit the imprisoned – for these which we do for the least of our brothers and sisters we do also for Christ our Lord. And so when perceiving these men and women who, it seems, cannot help being attracted to people of the same sex, how can we but naturally desire that they too may be permitted and defended in the possibility of tasting the fruits of romance and the complex joys of family building that we ourselves pursue? What privilege I enjoy, I wish also for my brother or sister – even at my own peril. That is a pillar of the Christian faith.

What privilege I enjoy, I wish also for my brother or sister – even at my own peril. That is a pillar of the Christian faith.

Then wherefore the controversy? Opposition largely centers around several bits of scripture – up to 6 verses in all – that seem to be critical of homosexual behavior. Flanking this are claims of the unnaturalness of homosexuality, the idea that homosexuality is not determined but chosen, and the claim that homosexuality can be changed into heterosexuality and thus “cured”. On the basis of scripture opponents claim that homosexual behavior is sinful, and on the basis of the other claims they may go on to charge that homosexuals sin by choosing homosexuality for themselves over natural heterosexuality, and that repenting the sin of homosexuality holds up hope that homosexuals may re-embrace heterosexuality and thus be admitted to the same possibilities and fruits heterosexuals traditionally enjoy.

Let us examine these claims

Is homosexuality a choice?
The answer seems to be “no”, for the time being. This is a scientific question, and we must thus draw our answer from the work of the scientific community – the prevailing consensus of which at the time of this writing is that no, homosexuality is not a choice. It is true that there is yet no established scientific consensus on the cause(s) of homosexuality, and our understanding of homosexuality may yet evolve with the progress of related research, but at least for the time being there is no use cherry-picking results as I have seen done in some Christian-themed material. To, for example, conclude homosexuality as a choice merely from the fact that scientists don’t currently regard hereditary/genes as the sole/main cause of homosexuality is to misrepresent the literature. If we appeal to science at all we must take it in full and accept the interpretation of its practitioners.

If we appeal to science at all we must take it in full and accept the interpretation of its practitioners.

Likewise on the topic of whether homosexuality is “unnatural” or whether it might be “cured”, the view held by contemporary science as of this writing is unfavorable to people who would argue against homosexuality on these grounds. Research appears to have shown that homosexuality is a natural variation on human sexuality and that it does not result in negative or pathological psychological effects. On “curing”, there is yet insufficient evidence of the efficacy of sexual orientation changing efforts, and some people appear to have experienced significant distress from the experience, so that there is now great suspicion on the practice on ethical grounds.

An understanding of these ideas is significant to our framing of the homosexuality issue because it outlines the moral gravity of the whole thing. If we insist that homosexuality is sinful and turn out to be wrong, we risk inflicting significant suffering and trauma on innocent people. This is why I have said that an anti-homosexuality position runs against the tenor of the Christian faith. I think it is encouraging that many Christians who view homosexuality as sinful are nonetheless well aware of these things and are exceedingly cautious and gentle in practice. Some have restricted the sinfulness of homosexuality to only the sexual act itself, and thus view the sexual orientation as merely a temptation rather than an aberration or a sin, one that may be successfully resisted simply by celibacy. Now this is I believe a more robust, scientifically tenable position. We shall consider it next.

If homosexuality is not a choice, can it be a sin?
In a strict sense, no – since an act of sin must be an act of choice. But it may still plausibly be a temptation to sin. This can be illustrated very simply with a thought experiment. Let us consider pedophilia – that is, a dominant sexual attraction towards children. Now I am not myself knowledgeable about the real facts about pedophilia and its effects on its sufferers, but let us suppose here purely for the sake of argument that it is not a choice and also not a source of other negative psychological effects. It should be evident that pedophilia remains a temptation to real sin all the same. The sinfulness of consummating a pedophilic desire is not nullified by the involuntariness of the desire. Likewise therefore, if it can be demonstrated that, for example, homosexual intercourse is sinful, then homosexuality could be a temptation to sin even if it is not a choice. This would in fact be entirely analogous with regular modes of sin – we did not choose to be born with greed, and yet following our greedy impulse would lead inevitably to sin. Involuntary temptation, and virtuous – oftentimes painful – resistance, is well at home in Christian thought.

Involuntary temptation, and virtuous – oftentimes painful – resistance, is well at home in Christian thought.

The question then becomes: is homosexual intercourse sinful? The answer clearly isn’t as evident as with the case of my hypothetical pedophilia. If pursued monogamously, consensually and with due diligence, there is no evidence that homosexual intercourse results in any significant harm to its participants – or anyone else. How then might we decide?

Scripture!” would doubtlessly be the resounding answer from some Christians. But is it really decisive?

Does Scripture decisively rule against homosexual acts?
No, I do not think so. There is a good amount of debate around this topic, which I won’t endeavor to consider in full here. Example full articles treating it from each side can be found here and here. For my part, I find myself in greater agreement with the perspective that Paul in his epistles never began to consider homosexuality in the context which we do today – ie that of lifelong, monogamous, consensual relationship in accordance with an involuntary sexual orientation. There is evidence that heterosexual men and women did engage in homosexual intercourse out of depravity in those days, and no evidence that homosexuality was ever coherently known or discussed as an involuntary sexual orientation. And therefore it seems extremely likely that Paul was writing in reference to depraved homosexuality and not to the sort of sincere, loving relationships we are here considering. While one must admit there is some merit to the idea that Scripture can often stand on its own, transcending even the context and intentions of its human author, exegesis of this sort must naturally be applied with caution. It suffices at any rate for our current purposes to note that there is credible opposition to the idea that Scripture is unequivocally against homosexual relationships/acts of the type we are considering. It thus becomes a question of Scripture interpretation, and in Christian thought, Scripture is engaged and interpreted with the help of personal communion with the Holy Spirit, and that brings me to my next point.

It suffices at any rate for our current purposes to note that there is credible opposition to the idea that Scripture is unequivocally against homosexual relationships/acts of the type we are considering

Can we truly understand a sin towards which we feel no temptation?
Admittedly – sometimes yes. In the case of pedophilia for example, the sinfulness of the consummation is apparent from the evil and suffering it inflicts on others. And so where the sin eventually manifests itself as harmful effects we can clearly see and perceive, then we can understand its sinful nature even if we are not tempted to it. “Ye shall know them by their fruits”. However, in cases where a hypothetical sin may manifest no clear outward signs of harm – as in, apparently, the case of our type of homosexual relationships – the situation is more complicated.

Does “no outward signs of harm” decisively eliminate the possibility of sin?
We must acknowledge “no”. Harm is not always apparent to the observer – at least, not to observers such as us. The goal of the Christian life is to manifest the Godliness of our Father as fully as we are able to, and a sin may cause us to simply fall short of what we would otherwise be able to attain. An external human observer would likely have no true idea of what God’s plan is for a particular soul, and so might not be able to tell when such a soul has fallen short. And so it is certainly possible for a real sin to manifest no clearly humanly discernible outward signs – though God of course would know. That however brings forth the following synthesis:

Can we as third-party human observers truly know an untempted sin which manifests no clear signs?
I would argue, no. It doesn’t seem to me that in Its guidance of my soul the Holy Spirit is usually concerned with things that do not tempt me. Out of my own sincere contemplation I can speak with confidence about my own battle with my own enemies, but can I truly also speak with confidence about the battles that I do not fight? I think not. And so it is my opinion that those of us who are not homosexual cannot know that homosexuality is a sin merely on our own introspective thought, however sincere. The Christian homosexual may plausibly be able to say with confidence that he/she thinks homosexuality is a sin, but the rest of us, I think, cannot make this claim on our own. We must be supplemented – either by scientific data, or at least by unequivocal Scripture. Neither of which, as I have argued, seems presently decisive.

can I truly also speak with confidence about the battles that I do not fight? I think not.

In the final analysis it must be admitted that the position I am arguing for is tentative. It seems clear to me that we currently have no grounds to say confidently that homosexuality is a sin or a temptation to a sin, and therefore should in practice allow it and even support it whenever such support may result in good effects – like alleviation of personal distress and defeat of social discrimination. At the same time I admit that this position is not set in stone – it can be modified by new information. Before ending, I should like to make clear the sort of new information I am here talking about. I do not think it is likely to come from Scripture – we have probably already debated all there is to debate about that. I think at least 2 things may hold the potential to affect my position. Firstly – new scientific/research results. If scientific research were to, say, eventually demonstrate that homosexual relationship in fact causes tangible harm of some sort, then that would be a valid occasion to revise our conclusion. Secondly – the testimony of homosexual Christians. If large numbers of homosexual Christians were to independently and sincerely testify that, through their experiences and their journey with the Spirit, they perceive that the consummation of their own homosexual desires is sinful, then, on the grounds of my previous thesis that a sin is knowable to those whom it tempts, I would also consider this a valid occasion for potentially revising our conclusion.


But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.


And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ

Reflections on the “Is There Meaning to Life?” Dialogue

I had the pleasure of watching a dialogue between Jordan Peterson, Rebecca Goldstein and William Lane Craig on the topic of “Is There Meaning to Life” on Youtube recently. Here is a record of my reflections.

Loosely, the speakers are set up as a kind of see-saw balance – Craig is a theist and a Christian, Goldstein is a naturalist and an atheist, while Peterson inhabits the space somewhere in between. Craig goes first, and he wastes no time in expounding the idea that meaning is baseless without God – in opposition of a naturalistic worldview, articulating a position that more or less agrees with my own. I’ve seen some material from Craig before and he strikes me as a very clear and technical speaker – and that is on display here as well, as he is the only one among the three who seemed to have come geared and armed for a detailed, nitty-gritty debate – not just arguing, for example, that “meaning” cannot be derived from a purely naturalistic view of the world but also carefully dividing “meaning” into the related but conceptually distinct categories of “purpose”, “value” and “significance”. He quoted generously from passages by non-theistic thinkers who agree that there seems to be no natural and convincing reason to suppose that what is good is objectively good, or that anything done could matter in any real sense. I particularly appreciated his rather impassioned performance of Nietzsche’s “God is dead, and we have killed him!” story. I’ve read criticisms of Craig before that loosely complained about his abstractness, that for all the ingenuity he displays in weaving together complicated and philosophically powerful arguments, he lacked “grounding” and simple connections to truth. So I thought the “God is dead” passage gave his segment a spark of humanity, in the sense that it put a crack in his apparently impersonal armor of technical argument to reveal the person underneath, sharing Nietzsche’s own profound horror at the idea being portrayed.

Goldstein is speaking, it seems to me, from within enemy territory

Goldstein goes next, and judging by the youtube comments people seem to have liked her segment the least. However I feel like one thing ought to be kept in mind when listening to this dialogue: a field like “the meaning of life” is kind of a position of power (I believe) for the theistic position, and so Goldstein is speaking, it seems to me, from within enemy territory. The tables would be turned, for example, if the topic were something like “suffering in the world”. I am of course not saying that naturalists have no good thing to say about meaning nor that theists have nothing to offer on suffering, but it seems to me at any rate that the state of the discourse varies according to the topic, and for discussions on meaning, the theistic position has something of an upper hand. For her part, I think Goldstein tries to articulate and defend her position with passion, as one would something cherished. The position seems to go something like this: certain things seem to be self-evidently meaningful, certain modes of behavior seem to be self-evidently obligatory. No one ought to need to tell you that you shouldn’t step on me when I’m lying on the beach, and so no further appeal to metaphysics ought to be necessary nor warranted. I do not myself think this is a solid position – after all, there seems to be no reason why I can’t ask “why do these things appear to me self-evidently meaningful”, or “why do these acts seem self-evidently obligatory”. Self-evidence here does not appear to mean self-explanatory, and so it is not incoherent to demand an explanation. Furthermore, I think no one would dispute that we seem to be able to go against this feeling of self-evident obligation if we wanted to – people have in fact done worse things than step on innocent people at the beach. So if there is a reason to go against this intuition of self-evidence then we can go against it – the intuitions are not authoritative in any binding sense. Therefore it seems to me to makes sense to question them and ask after their nature, with metaphysics thrown in if necessary. I’m not sure if any better position is possible from naturalism, and so at any rate Goldstein rolls with this one.

she expressed a horror of the very idea of transcendence, noting that apparent appeals to transcendence underlie some of the most atrocious things humans have done

In a sense, just as her position is intuitive while Craig’s is technical, her presentation also, while lacking in detailed consistency, felt personal and appealed to the audience’s sentiment and intuition. Responding to Peterson near the end of the session, she expressed a horror of the very idea of transcendence, noting that apparent appeals to transcendence underlie some of the most atrocious things humans have done. “Let’s just be human” – and that’s clearly a very resonant appeal. Why pursue transcendence when we can get it so wrong? In a subtle sense, there is also something inherently naturalistic about this point of view. Some critics of naturalism have pointed out that in a naturalistic framework there is no reason to believe that human reasoning can produce real truth – after all, in naturalism, thoughts must themselves have natural causes, and the only natural force capable of performing a regulating and perfecting role is Darwinian selection. However, selection only acts on outward, phenotypical parts of organisms and so would have only a very tenuous influence on abstract thought. The more abstract a thought is, the less exposed it has been to the reality grounding of natural selection, and so the less likely it is to be true or valid. I don’t know what naturalists usually think about this argument, but the contemplation of transcendence at any rate does seem assuredly on the abstract side of things, and so Goldstein’s skepticism seems to be in line with this angle. In my view, it seems to be a defeatist sort of position – kind of saying lets not ask too many questions and engage in hunts for ultimate, deep reasons because it is probably futile. We seem to be able to ask questions about transcendence and to say interesting things about them, so it seems to me that we should certainly try. Especially when in the real world we basically act anyway as though certain things – like morality and the laws of physics – are transcendent. Consistency between our actions and our theory of reality seems worth attempting. Anyway, whether or not philosophers talk about transcendence, it seems likely that bad men will misuse it anyway for their catastrophes, and so the correlation between transcendence theories and historical atrocities does not strike me as a valid objection to continuing to think about transcendence.

in the real world we basically act anyway as though certain things – like morality and the laws of physics – are transcendent. Consistency between our actions and our theory of reality seems worth attempting

Also, a quick word about moral progress. Goldstein seems understandably impressed with how far we have come in moral thought since the Enlightenment, but aside from the counter-argument that the very notion of “progress” smuggles in the assumption of a standard by which this progress is made (and then the question: what is the nature of this standard?); I think we ought also to be wary of unequivocally supposing that we are morally superior to our predecessors. Practical morality has a “zeitgeist” character: what is regarded by people as acceptable and laudable changes to an extent with time and environment. If a person from the 1300s were to see us now, it is not clear that she would recognize our moral superiority at all, and if we have such a tendency to be scathing of our medieval ancestors then a person from 2500 will probably have a similar attitude towards us. The fact is that even by our own moral intuition we can tell that in some ways we are lesser than our ancestors – in valor and honesty, say. We just think these are less important than the things in which we do better than them – and that sounds dangerously like fashion. I’m not suggesting that there has been no moral progress, of course (I talk meaningfully of progress since I do believe in transcendent morality), only that it may not be quite as unilateral and supreme as it may seem from our vantage point. We should always be wary of what C.S. Lewis calls “chronological snobbery”.

Now Peterson, it seems to me, ended up being largely aligned with Craig in this discussion, although he never confirmed it in so many words, and he seems to come at it from a different route. He was scathing of the idea, elaborated in Craig’s segment, that an act could be meaningless if it does not create a difference over a large timescale. The interesting thing to me is this: Peterson seems to arrive at the general territory of Craig’s main claims via intuition. Unlike Craig who wove his arguments out of, one might say, third-person “looking-at” observations of the universe at large, Peterson (who after all is a psychologist) seems to follow Goldstein in appealing to things one could intuit from one’s own experience, as well as from perceiving the experience of others. He seems to sort of agree with Goldstein that certain things seem self-evident to the intuition, although in his case he contemplated Auschwitz and thought he perceived self-evident evil. Unlike Goldstein, he doesn’t stop there, and so goes on to inevitably suppose that what is self-evidently evil for everybody must be transcendently evil, and then further infers that there must be a transcendent good that basically lays out the conditions for being the furthest away from the evil. This is a fascinating inversion of points of view like C.S. Lewis’ (and, partially, my own as well) – wherein one first recognizes from instances of good in the world that unadulterated Good must thus be something Real (and in being Good and Real thus demands our admiration and allegiance) and then that evil must then be the condition of being furthest away from Goodness. Dressed in semi-allegorical terms, one could say that one is a longing for paradise (the latter view) and the other a horror of hell (the former view) and that both when felt produces a similar outcome. So he arrives at basically what is common ground between him and Craig (and me) – that good, meaningful things are transcendent, eternal things that we discover and obey.

one could say that one is a longing for paradise and the other a horror of hell and that both when felt produces a similar outcome

Unlike Craig, he seems to fall short of positing the existence of God as the unifying entity of these transcendent values. And I think that’s fair – positing transcendent values from our intuitions of morality and meaning is one leap, and then identifying these transcendent values with a single being that can also be intelligibly identified with the God of religion and the God of philosophy is I think another leap that takes more careful argument. It would be interesting to see a potential future encounter between Peterson and Craig where they could debate this point. Still, it’s noteworthy enough that Peterson is willing to grant that the bible and its enigmatic stories are basically an attempt at figuring out how to be good and not evil, and furthermore that it is the best one we have. He seems to seek to interpret religious content in a “quasi-secular” way, trying to articulate, for example, how the figure of Christ represents an archetypal symbol of heroic, kingly attributes. This is a page out of his biblical lecture series (which I recommend) where he pursues this style of exegesis to great and insightful effect. Another interesting bit for me is how Peterson seems confident in, as well as comfortable with, the possibility of an effective biological reductionist explanation for moral intuition. According to him, it seems, a biological reductionist explanation of how humans came to intuit morality still does not explain morality itself, and if biological evolution produced moral intuition it is in fact because of the reality of morality. In some of his other videos (which ones specifically escapes me for the moment), he has presented some of the best outlines for the evolution of the human sense of virtue that I have yet seen, so I would recommend checking some of those out.

He seems to seek to interpret religious content in a “quasi-secular” way, trying to articulate, for example, how the figure of Christ represents an archetypal symbol of heroic, kingly attributes

In closing, I suppose I should express my own gratitude at the chance to listen to a dialogue like this and be stimulated to think about the various points that arose in the discussion. While I disagree the most with Goldstein, I thought it was nonetheless a valuable exercise to try to understand the point of view of a naturalist when placed in the face of such powerful arguments as Craig’s, and I share her sentiment that seeking commonality and resonance across divides of thought is an important and meaningful thing to do. Somewhat ironically but perhaps unsurprisingly, I have had the least to say about Craig’s points largely because they are very akin to my own positions and so I have had less to learn from and observe in them. I might also add, as a final note, that it is heartening that there was never any question between the three of them on what the practical manifestation of the meaning of life is. They disagree on the why and the how, but it was never in doubt that the meaningful life, in practice, consists of being virtuous, in obedience to the universal human intuitions of moral values.

Go, and do thou likewise“.