A Final Response to Mitch Leblanc on the Argument from Horrific Suffering

I will provide a brief rebuttal to Mitch’s response and grant him the last word in this discussion, if he would like to have it. I’ll put them under different headings to attempt to clarify the issues somewhat, with a quote from Mitch and my response.

Foundationalism

Mitch: “I have noticed a general trend amongst presuppositionalists to not only assume a sort of foundationalist epistemology, but to even assume others are foundationalists! How can I have properly basic beliefs or ultimate presuppositions if I think foundationalism is false? This isn’t an immediately relevant thought, but it’s interesting enough to flag.”

Moi: One can be an anti-foundationalist and still have properly basic beliefs. Mitch may want to familiarize himself with Reformed epistemology and foundherentism in this regard, at least. Both are anti-foundationalist and maintain properly basic beliefs. Maybe Mitch didn’t know this or he doesn’t think it’s pertinent since he doesn’t subscribe to either epistemology. Of course, he offered no alternative, so he’s fallen back on giving biographical information rather than philosophical argumentation. At the risk of seeming brusque, who cares that Mitch thinks foundationalism is false? Philosophers only care about why. I agree with Mitch that his thought is irrelevant in this case.

Question-Begging

Mitch: “If it’s the case that assuming that God does not exist in order to argue that he does is self-contradictory there is a real problem for argumentation in general, as assuming the negation of some proposition to prove that proposition is simply what is meant by “proof via contradiction” or reductio ad absurdum and it would be highly controversial for Zao to claim that instances of reductio are self-contradictory, yet that seems to be his suggestion.”

Moi: I apologize for my lack of clarity here. Assuming ~A in order to prove A is self-contradictory, excluding cases of proof by contradiction. I thought this would have gone without saying, but that appears to be a faulty assumption on my part. However, I don’t see its relevance to the larger discussion, unless Mitch wants to argue that only a proof by contradiction would be a valid way of responding to the Argument from HS. But he hasn’t argued for that and I won’t put words into his mouth.

Mitch: “Further, it’s not clear why one need either assume that God exists or that she (sic) does not in analyzing the argument. This seems to entail that nobody who is agnostic with regards to the existence of God could ever analyze the argument, or that agnostics are committed to the claim that God does not exist, which is false. He appears to cite the “Law of Excluded Middle” as justification for this claim, but this seems confused. It may be the case that “God exists” is either true or false but this does not entail that one has to regard it as so.”

Moi: This is a red herring. Unless Mitch would like to defend agnosticism I suggest he keep his comments relevant to the discussion at hand. Otherwise, what third truth category does Mitch propose with reference to the agnostic, since he asserts that one does not have to regard a truth claim as true or false? If he’s going to treat agnosticism as an assertion of ignorance, then this is just more biographical information in lieu of philosophical argumentation (taken from somebody else’s hypothetical biography no less, since Mitch is not an agnostic, last I checked).

Mitch has been given argumentation throughout his discussions with Choosing Hats fellas to the effect that the nature of the question of the existence of the Christian God is so comprehensive that one must epistemically presuppose His existence as true or false in every arena, regardless of one’s psychological status with reference to the question. (See Chris’ recent post on the non-neutrality principle.) He has so far not responded substantially to me in that regard (which is his right); however, until he does responses like “…it’s not clear why one need either assume that God exists or that she (sic) does not in analyzing the argument” will seem disingenuous at best, obfuscatory at worst.

Straw Man

Mitch: “Here, unfortunately, Zao misconstrues the argument. The finite persons who “ever more fully experience the reality of God” are not people living life simpliciter. They are the people who believe they are in a mutually interactive relationship with God of the sort to which theists commonly attest. This is a stipulative definition and I could have perhaps made it clearer, but this is one example of why I dislike long discussions pertaining to a brief survey article of some argument, there are things which get left out or overlooked that aren’t so left out or overlooked in the primary source. But, moving on, Zao is also mistaken about what it means to “realize one’s deepest good.” If you note premise (1) it’s explicitly defining what it means to realize one’s deepest good, and it means to ever more fully experience the reality of God. The rest of Zao’s response in its current form can be overlooked since it’s simply not relevant. Zao has, perhaps unintentionally, strawmanned the argument from Horrific Suffering.”

Moi: As I admitted, I haven’t read the primary source document for the argument and I agree that Mitch’s stipulative definition might have been clearer (though, as I said before, I think it was a good start). Recognize that I’ve simply stipulated a clearer definition of my own. If Mitch doesn’t like my stipulative definition as much as he likes his stipulative definition, again, so what? He will need to argue for his definition over against mine. Recognize also that my definition is taken from the Bible; if Mitch’s definition doesn’t take this into account, then the Argument from Horrific Suffering was never intended to target the Christian God and I see no point in taking further issue with it if that is, in fact, the case.

As a brief further comment in this respect, Mitch has asserted that the argument proves that no “perfect being”-type God exists, but this assertion rests on a whole mountain of argumentation regarding what is and is not a perfect being which has not been discussed. Mitch would like to sidestep all of this by an appeal to his intuitions and inferences about what a perfect being would be. I would simply posit the questions: Do you really think that you, as an imperfect finite being, can accurately infer the nature of a perfect being? Based on what? Your imperfect, finite thoughts and feelings? Really?

I would posit that such knowledge is impossible apart from the self-revelation of a “perfect being.”

Antitheistic Argument from Horrific Suffering

Chris Bolt and Mitch Leblanc have been carrying on a discussion surrounding J. L. Schellenberg’s Antitheistic Argument from Horrors.  The full exchange (to date) is linked here.  As I’m occasionally wont, I’d like to throw my hat in the ring... now which hat will I choose…

The objective fact of suicide alone would appear to give some validity to Schellenberg’s subject-based definition of Horrific Suffering (HS):

“Horrific Suffering (def.) = that most awe-full form of suffering that gives the victim and/or the perpetrator a prima facie reason to think that his or her life is not worth living.”

Schellenberg’s argument:

(1) Necessarily, if God exists, finite persons who ever more fully experience the reality of God realize their deepest good.

(2) Necessarily, if God exists, the prevention of horrific suffering does not prevent there being finite persons who ever more fully experience the reality of God.

(3) Necessarily, if God exists, the prevention of horrific suffering does not prevent there being finite persons who realize their deepest good. (from 1, 2)

(4) Necessarily, if God exists, there is horrific suffering only if its prevention would prevent there being finite persons who realize their deepest good.

(5) Necessarily, if God exists, there is no horrific suffering. (from 3, 4)

(6) There is horrific suffering.

(7) God does not exist (from 5, 6)

Notice the strong modal claims of the first five premises (i.e. “Necessarily, if God exists…).  Admittedly, I have not read Schellenberg’s chapter as of yet, but I would be interested in seeing his argumentation establishing the necessity of these premises.  At the very least it would give us a sketch of the sort of theology being targeted by the argument (while also giving us more than the mere assertion of necessity).  Also, if the necessity of any of the premises can be reasonably denied then the entire argument is overturned.  However, this is only a formal criticism and I’d rather respond more substantially.

It’s difficult to evaluate what is intended by the phrase taken from the first premise: “Finite persons who ever more fully experience the reality of God realize their deepest good.”  Mitch has offered his own interpretation for consideration:

“To experience the reality of God, in the context of this argument, is to be in a personal relationship with the creator of the cosmos. A relationship of the type theists mention often. It is a being as aware of the existence of God as a child is aware of his or her loving mother. That such an experience occurs in the ‘ever more fully’ sense is to simply point out that given the infinite complexity of God, there will always be more about God for some finite human person to know. That is, if God exists and is as awesome as theists often claim, it is difficult to see how any finite human person can exhaust the things there are to know about God, or exhaust the feelings there are to be had about God, or exhaust the myriad of forms a personal relationship with her (sic) might take. It is indeed doubtful that these things can be exhausted in the context of human-to-human relationships, let alone human-to-divine relationships.  Indeed such an experience of God’s reality might manifest itself in different ways to different persons; perhaps we should even expect such a thing given God’s infinite resourcefulness, creativity, and the existence of unique individuals…  I am speaking here of, in many ways, an experience of God that unfolds throughout eternity and is such that, given God’s infinite resourcefulness and creativity, the fruits of which are inexhaustible by the finite human person.”

I like this attempt at definition.  I appreciate an atheist attempting to give a definition which reflects his reading of various theistic claims.  At several points I think it’s quite insightful.  I particularly like this part: “It is indeed doubtful that these things can be exhausted in the context of human-to-human relationships, let alone human-to-divine relationships.  Indeed such an experience of God’s reality might manifest itself in different ways to different persons; perhaps we should even expect such a thing given God’s infinite resourcefulness, creativity, and the existence of unique individuals.”

I’ll be referring back to this section of Mitch’s definition shortly, when I attempt to present what I contend is a more biblically faithful way of responding to Schellenberg’s argument.  However, Mitch has already raised the objection that the use of Scripture in this regard is question-begging:

“(Schellenberg’s) argument, however, has as its conclusion that there is no God, so Chris must be careful not to beg the question against the argument by reasoning in a manner that assumes the conclusion false, to show the conclusion false.”

It seems appropriate, then, to respond to this objection before presenting my case.

Mitch contends that one must not assume that God exists (A) in order to disprove the above conclusion that God does not exist (~A).  This, he asserts, is question-begging.  However, for anyone wishing to criticize the conclusion, the alternative is to assume that God does not exist in order to argue that he does.  This is self-contradictory.  We must either assume God exists or God does not exist (A or ~A, Excluded Middle) in presenting our reasoning.  But assuming ~A to prove A is self-contradictory and assuming A to prove ~~A Mitch asserts is question-begging.  

What options remain for the Christian theist?  

1. We can grant that Schellenberg’s argument is completely unassailable; but this entails atheism.
2. We can reject the logical principle of the excluded middle; but this leaves us with many-valued, non-classical logics and the host of truth gap/glut issues surrounding that option.  
3. We can tie ourselves in philosophical knots attempting to assume ~A in order to prove A.  
4. We can reject Mitch’s assertion that assuming A in order to prove ~~A is question-begging in this instance.

I choose (4) for a number of reasons.  I’ve given Mitch one reason for this in the past (see point 1 under “Circular reasoning and a Euthyphro dilemma analog”), namely that there is an equal ultimacy to the criticism; given the comprehensive nature of the question of the Christian God’s existence, Schellenberg’s argument either assumes A or ~A in an effort at proving ~A.  But lest Mitch think this is merely a tu quoque response, I’m attempting to elevate the conversation by recognizing the epistemic role which properly basic beliefs or ultimate presuppositions (call them what you like) play in dealing with issues such as the problem of horrific suffering.  

As R. M. Chisholm recognized in his Theory of Knowledge the “problem of the criterion” (i.e. the relation of metaphysics and epistemology, “What do we know?” and “What are the criteria for knowing?”), as he put it, is the interdependence of metaphysics and epistemology.  The question of “what do we know” (e.g. Does God exist?) cannot be answered in isolation from the question “what are the criteria for knowing” (e.g. How do we know God exists?) and vice versa.  As Chisholm states in The Problem of Criterion, “What few philosophers have had the courage to recognize is this: we can deal with the problem only by begging the question.  It seems to me that, if we do not recognize this fact, as we should, then it is unseemly for us to try to pretend that it isn’t so.” (p. 37)

So I “courageously” beg the question in favor of Christian theism and Mitch unadmittingly begs the question in favor of antitheism.  What’s to be done to bridge this gap?

Well, until Mitch recognizes this to be the nature of the case he will probably continue to beg ultimate questions while accusing various theists of begging the same questions; and we’ll occasionally remind him about it.  If Mitch does decide to elevate the discussion, we’ll be here waiting.  Until then, he’s begging the question. :)

Another alternative would be to present a transcendental argument of some kind, attempting to demonstrate that even a skeptic’s skepticism presupposes the existence of God or something to that effect.  For examples, email Chris Bolt. :)

With that issue set to one side, I’d like to briefly propose (like a “good Calvinist”) that the biblical doctrine of unconditional election presents an expansion of the definition given by Mitch above, which makes horrific suffering compatible with God’s existence.

(Note: I love little puns like “good Calvinist,” i.e. in order to be a Calvinist one must believe all people are totally depraved morally, so there are only “totally depraved Calvinists,” but if Chris is a consistent Calvinist then he might be described as “good” in that sense.  Good pun, Mitch.)

In Premise 1 we are told “Necessarily, if God exists, finite persons who ever more fully experience the reality of God realize their deepest good.”  Let’s break this down quickly for definitional purposes.  We’ll take “finite persons” to be, well, finite persons.  Finite persons who “ever more fully experience the reality of God” are people living life.  Every day every finite person existing ever more fully experiences the reality of God in various ways and to varying degrees, but every aspect of life is an experience of God in one way or another.  “Realizing their deepest good” means simply that they glorify God; and one may glorify God through either salvation or judgment.

So while Mitch’s definition is good, it is incomplete, as he stated: “…Indeed such an experience of God’s reality might manifest itself in different ways to different persons.”  Indeed, some people may realize their “deepest good” (glorifying God) through horrific suffering under the judgment of God for their sins.  So, given the above definitions, Premise 2 is false since certain persons glorify God most fully by suffering horrifically under judgment for their sins; and preventing that category of people from suffering would prevent them from “realizing their deepest good.”

In fact, it is through the horrific suffering of Jesus Christ that finite persons realize their deepest good by glorifying God through salvation rather than judgment.

A Case Study in Apostasy

I had planned to write a chapter-by-chapter critical review of prominent atheist John Loftus’ book, Why I Am an Atheist; however, upon reading the book I believed that such an analysis was overkill and unnecessary in refuting Loftus’ claims.  Providentially, shortly after I finished reading Loftus’ three books the fellas over at Triablogue released their collaboration, The Infidel Delusion, in response to Loftus, et al.  So I thought my little collection of posts might just be blogospheric white noise in the flurry of responses exchanged.

So I reworked the bit that I had written in response to Loftus as a brief case study in apostasy, viewed from an apologetic perspective.  I hope that some might find it useful in recognizing and avoiding some of the pitfalls which may lead to apostasy.  Some may object that doing a case study in apostasy is too critical or harsh.  They would prefer to speak merely in categories or generalities about such issues.  However, since he believes this chapter contains salient facts related to his cumulative case argument against Christianity, Loftus opens up his experience for critical analysis, which I will cautiously provide.  Ad hominem fallacies will be consciously avoided, since the truth value of Loftus' argumentation should be considered independently from his biographical data. 

They were sad chapters to read, in many ways and for many reasons.  It's always sad to read of the failures of others.  And these chapters were full of failures of many kinds.

Loftus begins the book with a challenge for Christians: "Anyway, Christian, for once in your life, you need to seriously examine your faith.  By virtue of the fact that your faith is something you prefer to be true, you should subject it to critical analysis at least once in your life.  If you laid aside the fact that you think Christianity is true and merely asked yourself if you prefer that it's true, you'll see quite plainly that you do.  How do you know you don't believe what you prefer to be true?" (12)

In the above quote, take out the words "Christian/ity" and replace it with "atheist/atheism."  It makes equal sense.  This is what's called a double-edged criticism.  There's no reason to grant presumptively that any given instance of atheism involves more examination than any given instance of Christianity; this is the author simply projecting his own experience onto his audience.  If the criticism that "beliefs are based on preference" applies to Christianity, it applies equally to atheism, polytheism and fern worship.  Either Loftus' criticism above is valid and he is an atheist because he prefers to believe atheism is true or he's guilty of granting atheism a special status that he doesn't grant to Christianity without providing any argumentation supporting that position.  This is tendentious from the outset; however, no apologist familiar with the non-neutrality principle of covenantal apologetics should be surprised by this (for those unfamiliar read this, particularly pp. 447-448).

The problem is not that Loftus is not neutral in his statements; it's that he thinks he is and he purports to be while he is not.  This is especially worth noting since many of his readers (regardless of their varied theistic commitments) will tend to grant that neutrality is possible, even desirable at times, and that many of Loftus' statements exemplify such neutrality.  But neutrality is impossible; if Christ is Lord of all, nothing is neutral.

"...I consider part 1, "The Basis for My Control Beliefs," to be the most significant part of my whole case...  But since my skeptical control beliefs don't tell me what to think about the specific evidence itself, I'll also examine the biblical evidence in part 2, and then conclude with what I believe today in part 3." (emphasis added, 12)

It seems like it should be too early in the book for the author to have made such a complete blunder.  Loftus asserts that his "skeptical control beliefs don't tell (him) what to think about the specific evidence itself," essentially stating that his control beliefs don't control his beliefs about evidence.  Either the beliefs control or they don't.  This is flagrantly self-contradictory and demonstrates a deep lack of epistemological self-consciousness.  This is further exemplified by simply citing the author's own definition of "control beliefs" given later in the book: "Control beliefs are those beliefs that control how we view the evidence...  Since how we each look at the evidence is controlled to a large degree by certain control beliefs of ours, I want to know how to justify those control beliefs themselves." (emphasis added, 59)

This error reflects the same problem of non-neutrality mentioned above.  Loftus wishes to present himself as objective and neutral regarding the biblical evidence he surveys in part 2 of the book, but this contradicts his stated recognition that control beliefs exert control over other beliefs.  Skeptical control beliefs control his view of the biblical evidence; to admit this is to admit that part 2 of the book is entirely question-begging (and little worth reading, therefore).  It's either dishonest or naive to recognize the role "control beliefs" or presuppositions play in examining evidence, then to declare the opposite when it is convenient for one's own position.

Loftus then gives us his bona fides as a Christian apologist, having (among other things) earned a Th.M. under William Lane Craig at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in '85.  "I was a Christian apologist with the equivalent of a PhD degree in the philosophy of religion, set for the express purpose of defending Christianity from intellectual attacks.  I was not afraid of any idea because I was convinced that Christianity was true and could withstand all attacks." (13)

The reader should recognize that Loftus failed in his "express purpose of defending Christianity from intellectual attacks," and is in this very significant respect nothing like "us."  He was "convinced that Christianity was true"... until he wasn't.  He proved that, in fact, he wasn't just like "us," and no Christian should be tricked by such attempts at short-circuiting our critical thinking with biographical narratives.

Loftus imports many biographical tidbits into his argumentation, attempting subversive persuasion based on his superficial once-Christian credentials.  How can I call a Th.M from TEDS a superficial mark of Christianity?  Well, quite easily, actually, since, the most significant Christian credential is persevering faith, which Loftus never had, and his Christian readers would do well to keep that in mind.  "They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us." (1 Jn 2:19)

Loftus was "a problem teenager" (20), who came to Christianity through a Pentecostal ministry in Ft. Wayne, IN, where his life was "radically changed" (20).  Shortly thereafter he was introduced to the evidentialism of Josh McDowell's Evidence That Demands a Verdict, Hal Lindsey's predictive dispensational premillennialism, the pragmatistic presuppositionalism of Francis Schaeffer, and the ubiquitous works of C.S. Lewis.  Sounds like a fairly standard 20th century evangelical experience.  Loftus is briefly critical of each author and footnotes various criticisms he believes conclusively demonstrate problems with each.  Apart from the varied merits (or lack of merits, as would apply) of each theologian mentioned, one could be critical of each and still remain a Christian.  In fact, I would recommend it.  Of those mentioned, I have benefited most from Schaeffer's work, though I do recognize the validity of Thomas V. Morris' criticisms (as cited by Loftus).  So much the worse for Schaeffer's particular methodology and so much the better for mine.

Loftus wants to look at some key initial questions: "...what bias or presumption is the correct one when approaching the Christian faith?  None of us sets out to study Christianity without some bias one way or another." (22)

This is a valid and important question for us all, and it appears to recognize the nature of the antithesis mentioned above.  Briefly, I will propose that there are only two options: one will approach Christianity either presuming its claims to be true or false.  This sounds a bit outlandish at first, doesn’t it?  Can’t someone approach Christianity as possibly true or false?  This is a very reasonable question.  

There is no third option as the result of the all-encompassing nature of the claims of Christianity.  The de jure question is not independent of the de facto question.  To assume that one is "objectively" judging the claims of Christianity is to assume an autonomy from Christ which contradicts Christianity; meaning that one is assuming that Christianity is false in order to conclude that it is false.

But, if this is the case, musn’t the Christian be guilty of fallacious circular reasoning in assuming the truth of Christianity?  For brevity’s sake, I’ll answer this question with an argument from the lesser to the greater by analogy.  Imagine you are called upon to prove the existence of space or time to someone who doubts or denies their existence.  How would you do it without assuming the existence of space or time?  The short answer is, you couldn't.  Even more so regarding arguing for the existence of the Creator of space and time.

Loftus mentions that a professor of his "drummed into his students the perfectly reasonable Christian idea that 'all truth is God's truth' - that all truth comes from God whether considered sacred or secular." (23)  I take note of this statement because the idea that "all truth is God's truth" is as common as it is misbegotten.  While it may have meant one thing when Augustine first said it (in book two of De Doctrina Christiana, "A person who is a good and a true Christian should realize that truth belongs to his Lord, wherever it is found, gathering and acknowledging it even in pagan literature."), it has come to be something of a wax nose today, used to justify any anti-Christian position which one desires to synthesize with biblical Christianity.  

We also see in Loftus' quoted statement above an example of inconsistent thinking which is wide-spread in contemporary evangelical worldviews.  If all truth really is God's truth then a distinction between sacred and secular makes no sense, since it would clearly follow that all truth is sacred truth.  Loftus' sacred-secular dualism was anti-biblical and a philosophical wedge in his thinking, waiting to be driven home, separating him from Christ.  Where has dualism crept into your worldview?

Loftus' stated deconversion story begins when he commits adultery with a woman, Linda, with whom he worked in ministry.  Immediately, Loftus shifts the blame to Linda, stating that "she had it in for preachers, and she took out her wrath on me...  There are mitigating factors here, even if I did do wrong.  And I did do wrong.  But until you experience something like this you will never understand." (25)  Even if he did do wrong?  Why must I commit adultery and take no responsibility for it in order to understand that adultery is a sin and the fallout from sin is horrendously undesirable?  It requires a hardened, irrational heart to admit guilt and provide self-justification in nearly the same breath.

Loftus even blames God for his sin: "The biggest question of all was why God tested me by allowing her to come into my life when she did if he knew in advance I would fail the test?"(26)  Loftus portrays himself as a cosmic victim.  However, an even bigger question might be, since  Loftus was a highly-educated Christian minister, why hadn't he thought about such matters (God's sovereignty over sin) before this, maybe when he had committed other (albeit less consequentially painful) sins?  Finding a biblical answer to questions of this nature is one major step toward apostasy-proofing one's self.  Fleeing adultery would be another aid.  "Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned? Or can one walk on hot coals and his feet not be scorched? So is he who goes in to his neighbor's wife; none who touches her will go unpunished." (Pr 6:27-29)

It appears that after the adultery, at a time when resolving marital issues might have wisely been a top priority, Loftus chose rather to investigate the theological implications of the age of the universe, engaging in a correspondence debate with his biochemist cousin.  It's hard to imagine a subject which has less to do with repenting from adultery and restoring a gutted marriage than academically investigating the age of the universe for the first time.  A word for theologians and students: repentance must always precede research.  You cannot move directly from bickering with your spouse or slandering an associate to unrepentantly studying God’s word without consequences on your heart and mind.

Loftus recognized that the biblical pattern for creation "doesn't square with astronomy," (26) as its been most recently formulated and adopts the position that the early chapters of Genesis are myth.  He then projects onto the sky various intuitions about what he would do if he created the universe, and "nearly two years later, (he) came to deny the Christian faith."  He states that "it required too much intellectual gerrymandering to believe." (27)

For those interested in the age of the universe controversy, see Harvard PhD geologist Kurt Wise's article here.  It's a "gerrymandering"-free article, which presents the consistent antithesis between Christianity and unbelief.

It appears that Loftus remained in the pulpit of his church and various other ministries during this period; this was an utter failure of church discipline, which is ultimately a failure of love.  It's sad to read a story of such thorough faithlessness on so many levels, involving so many people.  He outlines various "he said - she said" situations of small church and broader denominational politics which led to him eventually leaving the church altogether.  "I often ask myself why Christians don't seem to act any better than others when they alone claim to have the power, wisdom, and guidance of God right there within them." (30)  Intellectually, that sinners (even redeemed ones) still act like sinners is not problematic, but it can produce some of the greatest suffering in life; and sin and suffering combine well to short-circuit reason.

Loftus' story presents a "sincere and honest" picture of apostasy.  It shows clearly the irrationality of sin and the inextricable link between moral and theological failure.  It is a cautionary tale for all Christians, and the Bible is not silent on matters such as these either.  1 Timothy 1 closes with these words, "This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience. By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith, among whom are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan that they may learn not to blaspheme."

By rejecting faith and a good conscience some have made shipwreck of their faith.  A characteristic of Christian ministry is waging good warfare, "fighting the good fight."  It is a struggle, a battle, a way of life; and the weapons of this good warfare are holding faith and a good conscience.  Faith is never an end in itself, it doesn't mean anything by itself.  When the NT refers to "faith" it is referring to more than mere belief, because belief in itself is nothing.  It is inseparable from its object: Christ.  Paul is telling Timothy to hold onto Christ.  A "good conscience" is not merely finding peace with one's self by appealing to universal guilt or the specific guilt of others (as Loftus does), but results from a careful, sensitive application of the Gospel to our lives, to our sins.  Christ bears our guilt and produces in us a good conscience, so that we can have hope and begin to act like what we are in Him.

Paul goes on and shows the opposite of this good warfare, those who have not kept faith and a good conscience.  The rejection, the shipwreck of the faith begins with a certain carelessness or indifference in Christian living and in applying the Gospel to ourselves.  It begins with a careless conscience and it ends with a "seared conscience" (1 Tim 4:2).  The result of stifling one's conscience produces a moral derailment which more and more eats away at our sensitivity to truth.  Violating one's conscience in one way or another undermines our ability to discern true from false, right from wrong, through a process of self-justification (e.g. Loftus' blame-shifting or his sudden desire to investigate the age of the universe, etc.), rather than seeking justification in Christ.  

This violation persists until it is as if the conscience were seared with a hot iron, so that one can blaspheme openly and unabashedly in a good conscience (e.g. Loftus' entire book).

Moral and theological decline go together.  We need to recognize there is no such thing as a purely theological controversy.  And we must not underestimate the centrality of the Gospel in all of life, including our philosophy and apologetics.  Moral decay breeds rational decline.  “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.” (Ps. 2:11)