Well, you’re going to need your thinking caps for this edition.

Welcome to the March 2026 edition of The Eclectic Web Journal, where we will discuss the differences between faith and evidence, and we will continue to explore C. S. Lewis’ Trilemma. We mention some interesting news and political stories, and we review a great book on the history of alchemy.

You may not agree with every article or perspective, but if you like the free exchange of ideas and civil discussion, please give our Facebook page a “like.” And if you’d like, feel free to leave a comment on any of our articles there.

Thanks for reading, and stay eclectic!


WORLDVIEW: Faith and Evidence, Part 1


If you haven’t yet, you may want to glance through our article, “Proof, Reason, and Circularity in Faith” from the March 2024 edition of The Eclectic Web Journal, as the following article is a follow-up to that.

 

I have subscribed to Biblical Archaeological Review for over twenty-five years. It is not an evangelical publication, and most of the contributors do not share my Christian worldview and convictions. But it is fascinating to read, anyway!

One thing that I always say when I am teaching about the archaeology of the Biblical lands is that no archaeological find will ever definitively prove nor disprove the Bible. Archaeologists provide evidence and give us a greater appreciation of the ancient world, but they cannot manufacture unmistakable proof one way or another. For instance, there are reports that chariot wheels have been found at the bottom of the Red Sea, a.k.a., the “Reed Sea”; those chariot wheels are allegedly proof of the incident in Exodus 14 where the Israelites cross the Red Sea safely, while the chariotry of the pursuing Egyptians gets swallowed up when God releases the water of the Sea. But, wouldn’t this fact be easy to discover and verify? And, why didn’t they find dozens or hundreds of wheels from the over 600 chariots, rather than just a few?

To be clear: I believe in the literal miracles of Exodus 14. I believe that the God of the Bible supernaturally held up walls of water between which two or three millions of Jews escaped, and then God released that water onto Pharaoh’s army. However, do a few chariot wheels on the bottom of the Reed Sea prove this event? Not necessarily.

The issues we are discussing here can be reduced to a few questions: What is the relationship between faith and evidence? If I have faith, why do I need evidence? Or, if there is evidence, how does that effect my faith?

We dealt with this issue to an extent in our article “Proof, Reason, and Circularity in Faith” from the March 2024 edition. In fact, I dialogued a bit more with that guy who wrote “Start by proving that ‘God’ exists without resorting to the same old circular reasoning.” In fact, he has a whole paragraph starting with that sentence that he has used on our “The Eclectic Kasper” Facebook page, and when he gets cornered, he just lazily cuts and pastes that same paragraph as his response. When you try to challenge him on it, he cuts-and-pastes this paragraph yet again!

I shared with him some of what we discussed in that “Proof, Reason, and Circularity in Faith” article, including the fact that the obligation of proof is not on those who assert that they believe in something; the “burden of proof” is on those who assert that some is factually true or not true. Again with my “friend” above, when he exhorted me to start by proving that God exists, I retorted that the existence of the God of the Bible is something that I believe by faith, and therefore, I am not under an obligation to prove it. We could point to evidence for the existence of God, such as the motion argument, or the teleological argument, or point to the design of many things around us and how that strongly implies an Intelligent Designer. But these are evidences, not necessarily proofs, nor do I feel obligated to prove what I ascribe to by faith.

In fact, I followed up with him by suggesting that if he asserted that such a God does not exist, and if he was confident in that assertion, then the burden is on him to prove God’s non-existence. I was temped to remind him that many who set out to disprove God actually end up believing in Him, but I decided not to mention that!

Something else I mentioned in that previous article is the reality that no amount of evidence will sway anyone who has already believed in a worldview. No amount of evidence for evolution will sway a dyed-in-the-wool creationist, and no amount of chariot wheels in the Red Sea will convince someone who doesn’t believe in the miracles of Exodus 14.

So what do we do with evidence that seems to “disprove” our own worldview? Well, I say, “nothing.” In fact, I will probably frustrate some people by suggesting that no archaeological find, or scientific discovery, or textual evidence will sway my belief that salvation and eternal life from God is only available to those who trust in Christ to save them from their sin and who rely exclusively on His sacrificial death and literal resurrection.

Remember that one person’s conviction is another person’s dogmatism. We have ideas that we cling to tenaciously, despite evidence or reason, and yet we chide others who do the same, despite the evidence or reason that is presented to them. Few people are even close to being rationally objective; we all believe in something, miracles, or God’s non-existence, Buddha or Christ, afterlife or just worm food.

So then, why have evidence for anything? Evidence can sway those who are still treading water in some of these uncertainties. And, I don’t mind if some of this evidence seems to challenge my faith. For instance, I have faith that the Word of God is inspired, inerrant, and authoritative, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some textural issues and apparent inconsistencies in the Bible, a few of which are, admittedly, quite difficult to reconcile. In a case like this, it’s not a cop-out to say that any apparent inconsistency is the result of a misunderstanding or lack of understanding on our part, or perhaps even an error in the copying and transmitting of the text over the centuries and millennia. But any such evidence does not even remotely shake my faith nor make me doubt my Christian worldview.

That said, it is helpful to have some evidence when you can get it. As mentioned above, I try to avoid using words like “prove” or “disprove” when discussing text criticism, archeology, or apologetics. And you also have to discuss not just whether someone would be swayed by evidence one way or another, but what kind of evidence that would have to be to sway someone from opposing a worldview to accepting it. What would definitively prove the Exodus from Egypt, or the resurrection of Christ, or the inspiration of Scripture?

What, then, is the role of science in the realm of faith and evidence? Great question; we’ll tackle that in part 2 of this article below! 


ROMANS: Jekyll and Hyde, Romans 7:14-19

An insightful song from Christian rock band Petra addresses the war between the spirit and the flesh in each Christian and asks, “Why do we do/ What we don’t want to do/ When we live with regrets/ Our whole life through.” This is a 1998 song called “St. Augustine’s Pears,” taken from a story the great fifth-century Christian theologian told in his famous Confessions. Augustine wrestled with the realities of trying to live for Christ on one hand, and yet often giving into the dictates of sin, on the other. Perhaps Petra captures this even more vividly in their 2003 song, “Jekyll and Hyde”: “Sometimes I feel like Jekyll and Hyde/ Two men are fighting a war inside.”

Indeed, this is the unique struggle for the believer. Of course, many people want to do good, but end up doing bad for a variety of reasons. For the Christian, however, the struggle feels more extreme; believers have the Holy Spirit, the Word of God, and a regenerated heart, and yet we still often give in to the evil dictates of the flesh in our behavior, speech, and reactions. For some, the power of the flesh exceeds reasonability; addicts continue to pursue behavior that is self-destructive and devastating to their relationships and vocation. They have relinquished so much of their will to the flesh, that they claim that they cannot help but continue with the behavior. 

As we see from our Christian bards today, or from Robert Lewis Stevenson’s famous character, and even from the example of Augustine, this is not a new problem. In fact, Paul addresses this situation in the second half of Romans 7.

In Romans 7:14, Paul continues to vindicate the Law, or the expectations of God for humanity, and especially for His own people. The Law, and all revelation from God, is “spiritual,” meaning here that it is wise and godly and for our spiritual benefit. This is in contrast to people, even believers, who are still “of flesh,” that is, we still have a very mortal mindset, and therefore we need the spiritual and holy truth that the law provides.

The problem comes more into focus in v. 15: Paul represents the struggle of any believer in terms of seeing God’s holy and perfect expectations for us in His Word, but then not practicing or fulfilling those expectations. We recognize that it is unreasonable, and that we don’t “understand” this struggle. A believer may recognize from the Bible the right things to do, but we also routinely do the wrong things. Paul goes even further in the last phrase: he declares that he actually engages in activity that he “hates.”

Paul continues to reiterate and restate the problem in vv. 16-17. Paul recognizes that his natural instincts are morally wrong, and that he should exercise some restraint on them, otherwise he will do evil. He sees something that he doesn’t want to do, and completely agrees with the Law that it is the wrong thing to do (v. 16). He recognizes that the Law is good and right when it assess that the sin is bad. But then, he goes ahead and does it regardless (v. 17).

Paul is not abdicating personal responsibility by blaming his sinful flesh for his evil actions and motives; believers must take responsibly for our actions, and avoid a mentality where we say, The Devil made me do it, or, The flesh made me do it. Instead, Paul is acknowledging that we are still strongly bound to sin, and this often plunges both unbelievers and believers into behavior that we don’t even always understand, and sometimes, that we don’t want to continue to do. Paul is also distinguishing here between the redeemed will of the believer, and the fact that we are still fighting the ungodly dictates of the flesh, our own evil Mr. Hyde; this is a very real struggles that many unbelievers don’t understand.

Paul clarifies in v. 18 a point he has strenuously made earlier of all people, but now personalizes; that point is the confession that “nothing good dwells in me.” That is, even with a conscious and a desire to restrain sin, there is nothing good internally in an individual. He clarifies again that there is nothing inherently holy or good in his flesh; of course, we have the Holy Spirit and Christ dwelling within us (John 14:23; Rom 8:9, 11; Eph 3:17), but there is nothing good that comes from us that is related only to our sinful flesh. 

Paul utilizes the idea of the will using the verb thelo, “to wish, desire, want; will,” used several times in this passage (in vv. 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21). For a believer, there is a capacity to want to do good, but the desire, motivation, and capacity to actually do good is often far weaker than the capacity to want to do good. The Dr. Jekyll of our will wants to do good, but the Mr. Hyde of our flesh usurps our will.

Then in v. 19 Paul continues making the point that that there is a disconnect between the good that he wants to do and the bad that he does, but does not want to do. Again, this verse highlights the verb thelo, “to wish,” “to desire,” “to want,” and the contrast between the good that we want to do as believers and the sin that we often end up doing. We resonate with Paul’s helplessness as he sees himself accomplish what is “bad,” even though he wants to pursue the “good.”

Since a believer has a redeemed spirit and fallen flesh, then we will experience a Jekyll and Hyde dynamic within us where it feels like “Two men are fighting a war inside.” The one that will win the daily battles is the one that we feed and nurture. If we continuously take in junk TV shows, social media, and the world’s lies, we will reflect the ugliness and foolishness of the world. We need to nurture our Christian life with regular and meaningful time in God’s Word and prayer, by listening to sermons, reading good theological or devotional books, and serving others with love and compassion. Only then can the good Dr. Jekyll defeat the daily temptation to give more control to the Mr. Hyde. 


POLITICS: Political Potpourri, March 2026

I have been working on several articles about politics, but I didn’t feel that each one merited an entire article. So, here, we’re mashing them up together, Jeopardy-style, in a potpourri of topics related to politics that need to be discussed.

I confess that I’m a bit nervous about posting this; over the last several years, I have tried to veer more to general cultural critique than toward politics specifically. I am worried that by discussing an eclectic array of political issues that I will get shot at from all sides. However, I hope you will take the following as legitimate criticism of all sides, my own and the other, and that you will see that this comes from a desire to ask legitimate questions, something that journalists formerly did but now seem afraid to do.

 

The Tatoo-pocalypse and Conservative Pettiness

The story is so petty that by now most people have probably forgotten it, but it was a huge deal back in August 2025 when Graham Platner announced that he was running as a Democrat in the U.S. Senate race in Maine. Soon after he announced, an old photo revealed that he had a skull-and-crossbones tattoo on his chest, which he recently covered over with another tattoo. The design is reminiscent of a Totenkopf, a symbol worn by the secret Nazi paramilitary group. Platner said that he and some of his Marine buddies got the tattoo back in 2007, but didn’t know its significance.

Conservatives childishly jumped on Platner; perhaps they were thrilled that they weren’t the ones being called fascists and Nazis, and they were delighted to throw those epithets at Platner, instead. Of course, there are other concerns about Platner beyond policy issues, such as some regrettable posts and tweets that have resurfaced. But conservatives decided to plant their flag on that tattoo.

To be fair, I study German history, and I’m not sure that I myself would have recognized this symbol as anything having an affiliation with the Nazis. I would not expect many to recognize this as a Nazi symbol, nor assume that the person bearing this tattoo was a full-fledged Nazi.

It seemed silly to me to capitalize on an individual with a tattoo that remotely resembled something vaguely having to do with Nazi Germany. Those same stupid conservatives never mentioned that Platner served as a Marine for eight years. If the tattoo was a swastika, then I think we would all recognize that this is a problem! But skull-and-crossbones symbolism has been used in so many contexts that to assume off the bat that the bearer of it has Nazi sympathies is silly and embarrassing.

Could we get back to discussing the benefit and plausibility of policies and the wisdom or folly of ideas? Instances like this where we make a big deal of a small thing, like focusing on a tattoo for weeks, these kinds of things make conservatives look really petty.


The Chilling Warmth of Collectivism.

It was a cold day in the Big Apple that became even colder; Zohran Mamdani delivered his January 1, 2026 inaugural address as the new Mayor of New York City, thanking labor movement leaders and providing special shout-outs to fellow socialists Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

We have become so accustomed to socialist platitudes in recent years, but it is chilling to hear them from the mayor of a city known for entrepreneurship. “To those who insist that the era of big government is over, hear me when I say this—no longer will City Hall hesitate to use its power to improve New Yorkers’ lives” (you can see the transcript of the speech here). That sounds like unfettered governmental authority that won’t hesitate to gouge business large and small to subsidize useless social programs.

He then uttered, “For too long, we have turned to the private sector for greatness, while accepting mediocrity from those who serve the public.” I don’t disagree that we have tolerated too much mediocrity – really, incompetence! – from government; but it is unsettling to imply that we need to improve the public sector at the expenses of the greatness of the private sector. The address seemed like an attack against the “privileged few” and alleged “corporate greed”; again these dog-whistles falsely presuppose that wealthy people are evil and selfish, and that corporations are entirely greedy, as though everyone else is not selfish and greedy, too.

While many other idealistic platitudes tumbled out of Mamdami’s naïve mouth, the one that was especially chilling was the phrase, “We will replace the frigidity of rugged individualism with the warmth of collectivism.” Yikes! 

There are so many things wrong with this aspiration, but the first question that came to my mind is, if capitalism is so bad, then why do totalitarian or socialist countries like North Korea or Cuba have boundaries and borders to keep people in, while capitalist countries like the United States have boundaries and borders to keep people out!? How warm and successful were collectivistic ideas in Soviet Russia or Venezuela?

Capitalism is not perfect, but it difficult to estimate the benefits that it has provided for our own country, and for all of humanity. There has never been a country where full-fledged socialism has worked to clearly improve the country, its economy, and the well-being of its citizens. But despite history, I guess some will keep trying to provide the frigid warmth of collectivism until you-know-where freezes over!


Being Bugged by Bad Bunny

In September 2025, the NFL announced that an artist named Bad Bunny, a Latin pop star but virtually unknown to anyone over the age of 38, would be performing at the Superbowl halftime in 2026.

We are in such a divided and politically-charged atmosphere today that many people assumed this choice to be a political statement. Some on the left felt like it was a tribute to the international composition of our country. Many on the right felt like it was a middle finger to Trump in light of his statements and actions regarding illegal immigration.

Even more concerning than these childish responses, however, was that this episode demonstrates how we are being brainwashed to assume that everything is political, and how we have been conditioned to be offended by things that were not meant to be offensive.

The responses were so severe that conservative group Turning Point hosted an alternate Superbowl show, which seems worse, like pouting conservatives are just picking up their toys and going to play in the next room over. Have they thought about whether or not this sets a precedent? Will they recant of their childishness if next year the NFL invites Toby Keith or Trace Adkins to perform at the Superbowl halftime show?

And here’s the part I’m going to get in a lot of trouble for: After vowing to not watch either halftime show, I reluctantly watched Bad Bunny with a friend. I actually thought the performance was really well done, though, I didn’t understand any of the words since it was in Spanish! (Though, a Spanish-speaking friend did tell me later that Bad Bunny’s lyrics are fairly explicit.)

Antagonism toward Bad Bunny performing at the Super Bowl makes conservatives look small and weak; it makes it look like conservatives are trying to insist that they’re not racist on once hand, but they then end up looking clearly racist on the other. The NFL is simply leveraging the popularity of someone who can open American football to a broader market. It may not have been a shot at Trump, but maybe it was just a marketing move. Conservatives are the ones who made this political, and that made them look very silly.


“Stay on target . . . Stay on target”

These wise words from the original Star Wars film can serve as a guide to us today in many ways. Individually, we must not be distracted by all of the glitz, schlock, and scare-tactics that infiltrate our society. Companies should stick to their missions of whatever goods or services they are providing and avoid getting sucked into the vortex of social issues or political personalities.

Similarly, conservatives should go back to being conservative, focusing on America first, smaller streamlined government, states’ rights, and greater freedom for everyone.

Last year at this time, Conservatives celebrated how we were championing the 80/20 and 70/30 issues (see our article here from the April 2025 edition where we discuss “The Dem’s 70/30 Problem”). Some of those issues included economic strength, border security, and gender clarity. There was great support for those issues, and some great things have been accomplished in the last year.

But the message has become sloppy, and muddled, even with good things taking place, like tariffs and immigration enforcement. And we all have thoughts about the recent military actions taken against Iran; in a way, I think that it is too early to determine whether the entire effort will be successful or not. Getting rid of terroristic leaders of Iran is good, but if this goes on for more than two months, or if American deaths get into the double- and triple-digits, and if we start putting boots on the ground, then this is not going to be good for our country, let alone for the GOP.

Conservatives need to stay on target, and stay on message. Let’s keep celebrating those important 80/20 and 70/30 issues that won the GOP so many elections back in November 2024. Otherwise, we will lose the influence that conservatives have now, perhaps for a very long time.


APOLOGETICS: Testing the Trilemma, Part 4: Legends and Liars


To get up to speed on this series, see the previous articles:


Christian author and apologist C. S. Lewis was weary of people during his day claiming that Jesus was just a good teacher or only an important religious leader. In response he developed his famous Trilemma; whereas a “dilemma” is a choice between two options (thus the prefix “di”), a “trilemma” presents three options. In the case of Lewis’ Trilemma, the options are mutually exclusive; you can’t mix and combine elements of each option, but you must choose one option and disregard the others.

Lewis reminded us that based on Christ’s own claims in Scripture to be God and fully divine, such as in John 8:58-59, 10:25-33, and Rev 22:13, He has not given us the option to accept Him merely as a good teacher or as a great prophetic voice. In fact we really only have three options, namely, that He was a crazy person making neurotic claims about Himself, or that He was intentionally trying to deceive people into thinking that He was God, or that He really is God as He claimed. Christ is either a liar, a lunatic or the Lord.

We have been exploring this Trilemma (see links above to the previous articles), as it has come under some scrutiny in recent years. As with those previous articles, I want to acknowledge my debt to C. S. Lewis scholar Donald T. Williams, who devotes a chapter in his book Answers from Aslan: The Enduring Apologetics of C.S. Lewis (2023) to exploring the Trilemma and its recent critiques. I am trying not to just rehash what Dr. Williams writes in that chapter; I am trying to contribute my own thoughts here, but his chapter on the Trilemma is a helpful guide to this discussion.

We have dealt with all three of the options in the previous articles, specifically, that Jesus Christ was either lying about who he said He was, or He was a lunatic who didn’t know who He was, or that He is who He claimed to be, not merely a great teacher, but also Savior of the sins of the world, and Lord, that is, fundamentally and intrinsically God.

But others have raised questions about whether these three options are the only options, or whether they are truly mutually exclusive. This is a big topic, but we’ll try to briefly tackle these questions below.

Some critics of Lewis’ Trilemma suggest that Jesus never claimed to be God; rather, these self-assertions of deity were imposed on Him by writers and disciples of Christ in the first centuries of the church. This is called a Quadrilemma, or a choice between four options, specifically, Liar, Lunatic, Lord, or Legend. These critics claim that Jesus became a legendary figure over the first few centuries and ascended from being an itinerant minister, to a sacrificial Savior, to a fully human and divine being. His claims to be fully God were not His own, but a claim put into His mouth by followers writing centuries later.

There have always been similar attempts to discredit, dismantle, or deconstruct the Bible, efforts popularized by German higher criticism in the late nineteenth century. While some insights of critical scholarship are helpful, many are not, but are just borne out of hostility and faithless skepticism. 

Additionally, many critical scholars adopt an anti-supernaturalist worldview; they reject that miracles healings and resurrections are even possible. This, of course, skews their research: they read about a miracle performed by Jesus, they deny that such miracles are possible, and attribute the story to an author centuries later who tried to turn an itinerant minister into a supernatural deity named Jesus Christ. As with most faith systems and worldviews, their presuppositions distort their conclusions.

Getting into layers of Biblical criticism (such as form criticism, or redaction criticism) is beyond the scope of this article. There is an enormous amount of literature on these topics both criticizing and defending the historicity and literal nature of the Bible and discussing the validity and limits of critical methodology.

We asked before about whether Jesus lied about Himself; but does it make any more sense that His faithful followers would be liars? If so, then, those amazing things written about Jesus, His healings, His miracles, and His resurrection, are not legends, but they, too, are just lies. And if those liars who wrote about Jesus put lies in His mouth decades later, then they retroactively make Him a liar, even if He wasn’t one originally.  We’re back to the assertion that Jesus was lying or someone else was lying about Jesus, and thus we cannot be sure whether He was a great moral leader or not through this web of doubt and deception.

If I wanted to write a biography on George Washington today, then I would want it to be accurate. If I honor him, then I don’t want to create some mythology about him. Of course, some of this has occurred over the centuries: the story about him not lying about cutting down the cherry tree is probably a fabrication. But even then, these kinds of tall-tales don’t make outlandish claims about Washington’s status or career; they don’t make him out to be an emperor, to have done miracles, or to have magical powers. He was a brilliant tactician and a thoughtful administrator, but that doesn’t make him a king, a savior, or a deity.

Also, even if my biography was less than complimentary, I would still need a historical basis for my claims; I couldn’t just make up wild things about Washington and expect those claims to make either him or me more credible. My own reputation as a story-teller, historian, or author would be at risk; if I write a biography about him that lacks credibility, then what have I gained from this? People won’t honor the falsehoods and mythology that I have made up about him, and they certainly won’t honor me as a follower or admirer of his.

It is true that we make up wild stories about people who have preceded us and who we admire, like George Washington or Paul Bunyan. Such legends and myths were not uncommon in the ancient Greek literary context, either, so we are not pretending that a similar phase of legendizing Jesus is impossible. However, stilling a storm, casting out demons, and rising from the dead go far beyond the level of tall-tales that we make up about legends. And who would think that we could promote the truths of Christianity just by making up lies about Christ?

How credible is it for Jesus to have been a great teacher if His followers, those who claimed to be loyal to Him, fabricated elements of His life? And if they lied about His miracles, did they make up some of His teachings, as well? If He is merely a legend, then we don’t really know if He is a great moral leader or not, because we don’t really know what’s true about Him or what is fabricated about Him.

I would place this category of “legend” as a subcategory of “liar,” and point out that we are still mired in too much deception and doubt to be able to assert that Jesus was just a great teacher. In fact, with this much deception from followers trying to turn Jesus into a legend, I don’t think that we could believe Jesus to even be a great moral leader. Williams summarizes the issue well: if the Gospels were written several generations later, not by eye-witnesses, but by people who blew the Jesus story up into miraculous legends, “then the Trilemma would have great difficulty getting off the ground, with its initial premise (that Jesus claimed deity) being not only moot but incapable of ever being established” (Williams, Answers from Aslan, 85).

There are more criticisms and concerns about the Trilemma, but we will pick that up next time.


ON MY BOOKSHELF: Analyzing Alchemy

This article is originally from the May 2015 edition of The Eclectic Kasper, and presented here with minor modifications.

In Alchemy and Authority in the Holy Roman Empire, Tara Nummedal describes the practice and practitioners of alchemy in central Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Alchemists engaged in a variety of activities and experiments in the fields of mining, military, medicine, and metallurgy. Therefore, their efforts, successes and even failures, were a driving force in the scientific advancements of this time period.

The variety of activities that alchemists participated in made it difficult to find consensus about alchemists, about how to achieve alchemical training, or how alchemists could legitimize themselves to wealthy patrons, upon whom they depended. This ambiguity and lack of any kind of guild oversight, however, also allowed many fraudulent individuals (called Betrüger in German) to invade the practice.

The potential for fraud is the entry point for Nummedal’s discussion of alchemy: “This is a social history of alchemy in central Europe, and a cultural history of why it proved so contentions” (page 6). Nummedal explains the practice of alchemy “from below” by exploring the cases and careers of several specific alchemists such as Philipp Sömmering, Hans Heinrich Nüschler, Georg Honauer and even Tycho Brache. She also describes the materials, contracts, laboratory space and the frequent need for secrecy required by alchemists.

The alchemists’ diverse skills provided an obvious appeal to early modern kings and noblemen. “As [mining] veins became less productive in the sixteenth century, methods of extraction and refining became more important, stimulating an interest in new techniques” (89). The promise of improved mining techniques, the creation of gems, the manufacture of medicinal and mysterious potions, and the transmutation of less-valuable metals into gold were irresistible to rulers racked with the costs of governance and war.

    Alchemists strove to prove that they were not phony, but that they could perhaps create something valuable and enviable to a ruler or monarch if they were provided adequate resources and time. The contracts that ensued between patrons and alchemists provided some sense of legitimacy to the practice. Patrons, however, were not gullible or naïve; contracts often included clauses placing financial burdens upon the alchemist if they failed to live up to their promises (114). Nummedal’s discussion of these contracts provides a corrective to modern thinking; the field of alchemy during this time was less helter-skelter and far more intentional and entrepreneurial than we sometimes realize.

Nummedal explains the portrayal of the alchemist by authors and artists in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by utilizing Marcel Mauss’ definition of a persona: “a cultural identity that simultaneously shapes the individual in body and mind and creates a collective with a shared and recognizable physiognomy” (Mauss, quoted in Nummedal, 42). Sometimes alchemists were portrayed as learned, scholarly and aloof. However, as the sixteenth century progressed, engravings and literature portrayed the alchemist more for his failures than his successes. Into the seventeenth century, alchemists had more difficulty distancing themselves from the label of Betrüger, or frauds, and found it increasingly difficult to legitimize themselves. Belabored attempts to spin gold from more common materials consumed many alchemists, and plunged them into financial and social ruin. Even earlier than this period, Francesco Petrarch asserted that it was not the alchemist who transmutes metals, but alchemy transmutes the alchemist into an intellectually and economically destroyed and pitiful character (51).

Nummedal certainly succeeds in her effort by not just writing in generalities, but by investigating the careers of specific alchemists and the difficulties that they had with issues of sponsorship, finances, and their attempts to establish legitimacy in a field increasingly perceived as illegitimate. In many cases, the careers of alchemists ended far less gloriously than they had hoped, such as in prison or on the gallows.

   I appreciated the discussion of the laboratory and how the arrangement of the alchemists’ work spaces suggested that they were not just engaged in a random jumble of unrelated activities. Rather, these spaces dictated a diversity of activities connected by a single vocation and a unified laboratory process (140). I also enjoyed the recognition of how the diversity and ambiguity of the alchemist’s vocation allowed them to evade the auspices of guilds and universities.

    I would have liked more information about how alchemists interacted with and were perceived by Protestant leaders or by the Catholic Church. Nummedal briefly mentions Pope John XXII’s denunciation of alchemists, but that was in the fourteenth century (150). She also mentions a work that was probably by reformer Johann Valentin Andreae, who drew a connection between “weak morals and alchemical misdeeds” (quoted on 163). But surely there are additional examples beyond these two of the various interactions and attitudes that existed between clerics and alchemists ranging from synergism to mutual skepticism.

    Of all the history books that I have read, Alchemy and Authority in the Holy Roman Empire is one of my favorites. It is accessible, thorough, and tells some great stories. Nummedal’s work provides a substantive and personal account of a subject often marginalized or ignored in works about the early modern period or the Holy Roman Empire.


WORLDVIEW: Faith and Evidence, Part 2

    We discussed faith and evidence in Part 1 of this article above, but at some point, a person may want to point to science, that monolith of unquestioned certainty. So how does science fit into this discussion of faith and evidence? How does that affect some of the issues we face today?

    Full disclosure: I am not a scientist; I am a Bible exegete and a historian. However, as someone who studies words and traces the career of those words over time, I believe that I am probably more qualified to discuss some problems with how people today use a word like “science.” I think that I am perhaps more qualified than a scientist to discuss the trajectory of this word and to analyze how it is used, and misused, currently.

    In Part 1 above, we discussed that there needs to be irrefutable proof of a conclusion in order for that conclusion to be valid; this is preferable to having evidence that just points to a certain conclusion. Or, more simply, when someone mentions or appeals to “science,” we have the right to follow up by asking what specifically they mean by “science.”

    Science should be something that is evident, provable, measurable, repeatable, something like gravity. This is what I would call “conventional” science, observable and repeatable aspects of chemistry, physics, and technology, or what we just used to call, “science.” We could perhaps also refer to this as “operational” science, or “functional” science: reproducible processes for making roads, cell phones, cars, medicine, energy, and many other things.

    But we all have to admit that in addition to “conventional” or “operational” science, we have something which I would call “presuppositional” science, or “assumption-based” science. It is when you start with an assumption and then try to curry whatever evidence you can to make that assumption seem more plausible. This is what we used to call, “faith.”

    I am a Young-Earth Creationist (hereafter, YEC). So, yes, I believe that the earth was created by the God of the Bible ten or twenty thousand years ago. In fact, I even did a science-fair project in eighth grade about YEC. But I believe in this by faith, and I make no excuses nor apology for it. Nor do I use it as a cover to insinuate that any evidence for YEC is proof; it is not anything close to definitive proof, but just evidence. On the other side, I believe that much of what evolutionists roll out as “proof” is also, at best, evidence that points to an assumption that they have, not irrefutable proof of an unavoidable conclusion.

    An example of this is how both creationists and evolutionists appeal to the “fossil record.” Both sides discuss the fossil record as though it were a monolithic thing that we could all gather around and investigate, and then arrive at the exact same conclusions from that investigation. But what happens is that different people find different evidence from different fossils to try to verify their presuppositions. Like the word “science,” the fossil record is fickle, hard to systematize and understand, filled with oddities and contradictions. It contains challenges to other people’s worldview and assumptions, but it contains legitimate challenges to our own, as well.

In fact, scientists on different sides don’t even know how the fossil record came to be. If you presume that it is the result of millions of years, then that determines your results practically before you even look at evidence. However, presuming that the fossil record was the result of a mass extinction event, like a global flood, then that will also skew your perspective, your interpretation, and thus, your conclusions.

    But I will give evolutionists the same benefit of doubt that I would ask them to extend to me: after all, what irrefutable evidence could one possibly have for a “Big Bang” that happened 14 billion years ago, or that life began in a pool of slime. In fact, even if we could somehow reproduce the origin of biological life by running electricity (standing in the place for lightening) through a pool of slime, and even if we could somehow create life from this process, that wouldn’t really help. Such an experiment would only show that this is how life on earth could have begun, but that is not evidence that this is how it actually began.

    This creationism versus evolutionism debate is not a debate about science versus faith. It is a debate about one set of assumptions that has some evidence versus another set of assumptions that has some evidence. Again, it is not science versus faith, but it is really about two systems that people believe in by faith.

    Part of the problem comes from the many pros and cons that we inherit as a culture from the Europeans Enlightenments of the late 1700s. Many Enlightenment thinkers compelled us to think of “science” or observation as possessing the highest level of authority for how we obtain knowledge (“epistemology” is the fancy word for that). Previously, more people saw the Bible as having greater authority than observation and reason. Today, many assume that science is more authoritative than the Bible, than logic, than dogma, or than reason. 

This confusion has been amplified by some of the very un-scientific slogans that we have heard over the last few years, slogans like “don’t question the science.” Indeed, everything should be questioned and should be scrutinized so that we can both validate helpful facts and also recognize harmful falsehoods. Questioning science is inherently scientific!

    In conclusion, I want to say two things in defense of the worldview that acknowledges the value of faith, no matter what worldview that is. First, the faith-based worldview is at least honest about the fact that we believe in ideas about origins and God by faith; we do not try to pretend that the evidence we use absolutely proves our faith.

    So, the first point is to recognize the honesty of faith, and the second point is to recognize the limits of science. Science doesn’t give us all of reality, but only deals with observable reality; that is, there are physical things going on in galaxies beyond our view that we cannot know about, and at this point, science cannot help us with these things. There are physical realities so small that we are only beginning to discover them, and only just speculating about how some of these things operate. 

Moreover, science only gives us information about the visible universe, so it also can’t give us any definitive information on the unseen God, or on the possibility of miracles which cannot be replicated. In fact, science really has nothing meaningful to say about angels, demons, ghosts, magic, or the afterlife; these are immaterial things regarding which science lacks the tools to observe, or verify, or meaningfully discuss.

I could go on, and I probably will in another article about the interaction of faith, reason, and evidence. But what makes all of this more difficult today is that our society seems to care less about discovering facts than it does about guarding our assumptions. And for many people, those assumptions are irrefutable, and we just rally our own statistics, polls, news events, and evidence to “prove” those assumptions. Then, unfortunately, when some people are backed into a corner about the validity of their assumptions, they assert that the other side is racist, bigoted, or something similar that is completely useless to a rational argument. 

We need to recognize the functional differences between evidence, facts and assumptions. And more people have to recognize that their own worldview is less objective than they think, but it is built more on faith than on reason and evidence. A faith-based worldview isn’t wrong, but we just have to be intellectually honest enough to admit that we affirm certain things by faith. And even with the amount of faith that exists in our worldviews, getting back to logic, rationality, persuasion, and and clarity of thought is perhaps more necessary today than it has ever been.



The Eclectic Web Journal is written by Matt Kasper and edited by Martha Kasper. Matt is a graduate of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, Dallas Theological Seminary, and he recently completed a PhD. in Reformation history from Georgia State University. Matt is the pastor of a small church northeast of Atlanta called Grace Atlanta Bible Church, and is involved in several other groups and activities in the Atlanta area, as well.

We had written a decade’s worth of articles in our previous web journal, called, The Eclectic Kasper, which we published from 2011 to 2021. We will work on repairing access to these articles, and let you know about our progress on that front.

If you haven’t yet, please give our “The Eclectic Kasper” Facebook page a “like” and you can leave comments about any of our articles on our posts there.