Security in Scripture and Song

I'm having a rather heated discussion on points of Calvinism on a discussion board right now.  Two related points of Calvinism seem to be the bulk of the disagreement.  The first is the issue of choice.  The Bible says that, in order to be saved, one must believe in Christ (John 13:15), and believing is a choice.  It also says that God chooses us (Ephesians 1:4).  So who has the final say in this matter?  Whose choice is it really?  Some say that it is ours alone, that God chooses everyone but that His choice is only effective if and when those few who become saved choose Him as well.  Some say that the choice is mutual but that it depends on us.  These argue that God (who, the Bible makes clear, made His choice long before we existed) looks ahead in time and anticipates our own decisions.  Those who He finds would have chosen Him anyway, He chooses, and those who would reject Him, He does not choose.  The final say is ours because God only chooses those who would have chosen Him independently.  Yet the Bible makes a different argument.  It says that God's choice is the most important one: so critical in fact, that it is essentially the only choice that matters.  Jesus says to His disciples, those who chose to stay with Him and serve Him to the end, "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (John 15:16).  The Bible also testifies that those who are saved are not saved "of the will of man, but of God" (John 1:13).  The first and final choice, then, is God's, and any human choice to be with God comes about as a result of God's independent decision to win that person for Himself.

Who makes the final choice for salvation isn't just a matter of semantics, because who has the final say in initiating the relationship between God and man that begins on salvation also has the final say in controlling the direction and outcome of the relationship.  If man has the final say in the matter of beginning a relationship with Christ or not, then the inescapable conclusion is that man also has the final say in whether or not the relationship continues, develops, and culminates in Heaven.  If we are the sovereign masters of our election, then we are also able to "un-elect" or "un-save" ourselves.  God is not able to hold onto us because His decision was never the one that really mattered in the first place.  We can walk away from Him and leave Him helplessly pining after us if we so choose.  Needless to say, this is not a Biblical concept--though it does feature prominently in every cult and other non-biblical religion under the sun.  The Bible teaches that nothing is able to separate us from God, and no one is able to take us from His hands (Romans 8:38-39 and John 10:28-29).  Some try to argue that these verses do not apply to the believer himself, since he is not specifically mentioned in either verse, but doing so asserts two patent absurdities: 1) that the believer is not a part of creation (for Romans 8:39 says that nothing "in all creation" can separate us from God) and 2) that the believer is greater than God the Father (the reason Jesus says that no one can deliver from the Father's hand).  Needless to say, both of these are blasphemous heresies.  If the Bible is to be believed, then God and God alone has the last word in saving us and it is by His power alone that we remain saved to the end.

As I said, who makes these choices concerning beginning and ending of a relationship is very important, for the one who makes the choices holds the power in the relationship itself.  This is very important to me personally.  I know that my heart is not all it ought to be.  I know that my decision making process is not reliable.  I am liable to be afraid, to be tempted, to be hit by some crazy whim or tricked by some persuasive argument and say to myself: "Well, God will never love me in this way.  I'll just close off this part of my heart from Him."  One thing I've caught myself doing frequently is measuring myself by some arbitrary set of standards and saying, "I fall short.  God must not love me.  He does, but He can't be allowed to.  It's not good for Him.  The best thing for Him is that we break up."  I don't want to leave Him, but I see my own wickedness (forgetting the cross) and am afraid.  I build walls and--if it were up to me--my relationship with God would stagnate or worse dissolve entirely.  I would trump all His love, sacrifice, decisions, and arguments by saying, "I'm not a good match for you.  This is what's best for you."  I would walk away from the best and truest thing in my life  This is the height of my folly!  Fortunately, God recognizes it for what it is and He is the last word in our relationship, not me.

This song (aside from having an excellent example of product placement--the car at 3:09), illustrates my perennial position in our relationship.  Like the woman in the song, I am so often surprised by God's overwhelming and unexpected love.  He "puts [His] arms around me" but "I believe that it's easier for [Him] to let me go."  I change my mind constantly and wonder how He can put up with it.  I waffle between letting Him "save my life" or letting myself "drown" in sin and self-pity.  At times like these, "the world is coming down on me, and I can't find a reason to be loved."  I "never want to leave" God, but I can't justify staying.  Surely, He will see me for what I am and hate me.  I erect walls in our relationship because I say "I'll never let our love get so close" and "never let [Him] to see the truth", but secretly hope He can "see right through them" because I don't want our relationship to end or stagnate--but I find myself temporarily blind to the possibilities of it continuing.  Fortunately, He sees all.  He pursues relentlessly until He catches me can once more "put [His] arms around me, and I'm home."

God's perspective is different (please forgive the Twilight in this video).  While I am afraid and wonder "how can I love" Him, He is confident and sovereign.  "Watching [Him] stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow."  I hear Him proclaim His sacrificial love, "dying...waiting for [me]" as He's "loved [me] for a thousand years, and [He'll] love [me] for a thousand more."  "Don't be afraid," He says.  He tells me "I will not let anything take what's standing in front of me"--and He sees my beauty (which I can never seem to perceive in front of Him).  His steadfast love melts away my doubts and silences my fears.  I find myself coming "one step closer."  I realize that this step is one of many I have made--and that, since He always wins these contests of ours, it is the only one of a multitude I will make toward Him in the future.  In the end, He wins and I rejoice in that!

Yep, it's Taylor again.  My private security with God gives me the ability to have public confidence in Him.  Because "this is ours" I can face high stakes and rough waters.  People may say what they like about God and about me (and people seem to nothing so well as judging).  Satan may "lurk in the shadows" and hurl his accusations, but "they can't take what's ours."  My relationship with God is unshaken.

Okay, so I'm not a Katy Perry fan, but this song was too appropriate (and the military theme too cool) to pass up.  As I was saying, my relationship with God is "the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me."  This is not to say that I cannot or do not take constructive criticism (I request it), but it does mean that I am unmoved by spiteful words, whether from men or from Satan.  I can show courage and defiance in the face of them.  "Throw your sticks and your stones, throw your bombs and your blows, but you're not gonna break my soul"--which is in His keeping.  When the imperfect love of others tears "at the seams" and they "chew me up and spit me out, like I was poison in [their] mouth,"  then "when I throw my phone away" I find that God "is really there for me."  I emerge victorious, "sparkling, a firework, a dancing flame" that they can never put out--because God will always be there for me, a part of me that can never be taken away: not by me and certainly not by them.

Gospel Dream

Last night I dreamed I was a trafficked woman in the sex trade (disclaimer: this was a dream, I do not pretend to know the awful reality of what these women actually go through on a daily basis or how they escape; I only know what I dreamed).

I dreamed that it was a cloudy, windy day.  I had to go out and work the streets for my master who terrified me.  I went out wearing only a string bikini and an oversized jacket--as a concession from my master to the weather.  The jacket covered my arms and torso and I could shield my hands by driving them deep into the pockets, but my legs were exposed.  The wind was biting against my bear legs and I was so embarrassed, so ashamed, and yet my fear compelled me out onto the streets.  And so I walked.  I didn't know who might be associated with my master, and who might report me to him, so I always behaved as if he were watching my every move.  The men who leered at me and whistled at my bare legs frightened and disgusted me, but I flirted with them.  I had to, I was so afraid of my master's anger.

As I walked I was miserable.  I knew I didn't want to live this life.  I knew I wanted out of here.  I wanted to be warm and loved and cared for, but I didn't think that was possible.  I started back, toward the brothel where I lived.  As I walked my walk of shame in the frigid wind, a police car drove along the street behind me. I knew that these men had the power either to set me free or punish me for what I was doing.  I hoped they would set me free, but I feared my master, so I tried not to draw their attention.  Nevertheless, I was so cold I wanted to get back to the brothel quickly, where at least I would be out of the wind.  So, when it came time to cross a street, I jaywalked in front of the cop car.  At first nothing happened.  The car turned on the same street I was walking down and drove past as I continued walking.  Then, the car turned and stopped in a parking lot.  Two officers came out and approached me.  "How old are you, miss?" one of them asked.  I knew what they were asking.  I was clearly a hooker, and if I was under 18, I was illegally employed.  I guess I could have answered a lot of ways.  I could have told them that I was underage and begged them to get me out of here.  I could have told them I wasn't, and pleased my master.  But I was so miserable and afraid I broke down and in tears told them the truth.  "I don't know if I'm over 18," I said.  I was at their mercy.  I was either a criminal or a victim and they could decide how to deal with me, punish me or rescue me, or leave me to my master--who would no doubt be upset.

"That's alright, miss," said the officer, putting his arm around my shoulder and leading me off the sidewalk.  "You can come with us."  He took me to the car and said they'd take me away from here.  One of them started calling in a trafficked juvenile rescued while the other opened the back door for me.  In the back seat, I found a folded set of clothes, for me.  On top was a pair of pants--probably one of the officer's cast-offs--to cover my freezing legs.  I pulled them on immediately.  "Thank you for the pants!" I said, and then I woke up.

On waking, I immediately realized there was more to my dream then met the eye.  Though I was not a trafficked girl, I was the girl in my dream.  I had been a slave to sin.  Satan was my master, hemming me in with fear, guilt, and shame--keeping me in sin.  I don't want to live that life, I didn't want to, but I couldn't get out on my own.  God came, like the cops in my dream.  He could have condemned me, prostituting myself to other gods and offending Him.  He could have left me.  But He didn't, He called to me and I admitted the helplessness of my situation to Him.  Then, He saved me.  He covered me over with His own love and righteousness, like that pair of pants--taking away my shame and shielding me from the world.  "Thank you for the pants, God," I whispered.

Earned Love and True Love

So, I've got an idol that I keep close to my heart.  I guess you could say that this idol is really the closest one to my heart.  I never go after any others unless this idol has (as it inevitably does, being an idol) let me down.  This idol is called Work.  Work, for me, is never an end in itself (at least not when I'm serving this idol).  It's always a means to an end: a way of earning something.  There are so many things to earn: money, fame, respect, praise.  None of these things, by themselves, really appeals to me.  The thing I'm trying to earn most often is love.

The question is, is this even possible?  Is it possible to earn love?  My idol says it is.  People judge me based on what I do, and if I do the right things, then I will be acceptable to them and loved by them.  My idol says that it works the same with god.  What I want, more than anything, is His love, and this, says Work, I must earn.  god sees what I do, and his approval or rejection of me rises or falls with my actions: he does not see my heart or my intent--and if he does he does not care.  Intentions are cheep: actions are what counts.

The problem with this approach to god is that it never works out.  If I were to read the Bible and simply jot down every action God commends, I would have a list a mile long of things I need to do to earn god's love.  I would never get them all done.  I could try--I have tried--but in the end I am left only with exhaustion and the realization that I have failed.  I have not lived up to every single commanded work, and in so doing, I have failed to earn god's love.  I have instead invited his hatred.  Condemnation comes from my idol of Work now, and this is the point where I usually run off in search of comfort in some other idol--believing that I cannot now hope to have it in God.

But this is a false gospel assaulting my heart.  It is a lie because, at bottom, True Love cannot be earned by any means.  After all, it is easy to say, "I love you" to someone who has done incredible works for you.  Anyone can do that.  Even the most reprobate people who drift from relationship to relationship only ever caring about themselves can still give "earned love."  When the works falter or stop, these people just as quickly go cold--for they never loved in the first place, not really.  They were only attracted to the works that were done for them.  True Love is something permanent and stable.  It cannot be earned.  Works done by the beloved or misdeeds committed cannot either increase or decrease it.  It is this Love that will prompt a wife to remain faithful to a husband who's in a coma.  It is this Love which every woman seeks when she asks "will you love me when I'm old and ugly?"  Earned love is cheap, but this Love is described in the Bible as being so valuable that all the riches of a billionaire would be considered a contemptuously low offer for its purchase (Song of Solomon 8:7).  This kind of Love is not for sale at any price.

This is the kind of Love God offers me.  He does not offer earned love.  God gave the law to Israel as an experiment hundreds of years long to prove that His requirements for earned love could not possibly be met (Romans 3:20).  Then, while we were yet sinning despicably against Him and provoking His righteous anger, He demonstrated once and His True Love for us, by the greatest act of Love ever: giving His life for us on the cross (Romans 5:8).  This is the same Love He extends to me even now.  When I try to earn His love, He is not impressed.  When I fail and despair of His love, He still extends True Love to me, which nothing can buy.  His forgiveness and grace prove false my idol of Work.  I cannot earn His love, for it is eternally mine!

A Year in Blog Posts (and other links)

I would like to give you a month, by month breakdown of what happened in my life this year, but I find that such a thing would be somewhat impossible.  Though I sometimes want to be that organized, I’m actually not.  My life flows from month to month, season to season, and often doesn’t segment cleanly into little blocks.  I can, however, give a topical review.

Learning the love of God for me was a big thing this year for me.  At the beginning of the year I was still trying to hold on to rigid systems and other people’s expectations and making them the measuring rod for my spiritual life.  I was firmly committed to finishing my one year Bible reading plan actually in one year and felt like a really rotten person when I missed a day, because that was my measure of myself.  When I did read, it was sometimes worse, since I felt I had fulfilled my duty to God but got nothing out of it.  I left off with this and other self-imposed systems in April, finally realizing that--win or lose--they were taking me further from God.  It was at that time that I heard for the first time Matthew West’s "More."   It was the first of several songs that He would give me.  In that month also I read The Way of the Wild Heart, which God used to address some old wounds of mine, to show me where I was believing lies.  This helped me open my heart to Him, and that summer I dedicated to be my "Lover Summer" for me and Him, wherein I would fall fully and irrevocably in love with Him.  It wasn't exactly what I'd expected (what I'd expected would not have accomplished that purpose), but it was better.  I had some really amazing moments--a lot of them actually--and God romanced my heart through the summer months.  By the end, I really had fallen irrevocably.  When summer ended and I returned to school, I was able to draw on that love for strength and have remained in it.  Now my measuring rod for my spiritual life and worth is Christ's love for me, and I let Him lead my life as a man leads in a dance and I follow (not perfectly, but I do).

Related to this was learning to listen to God and trust His voice.  It's been a long journey for me, trying to accept my gift and learning to live with it and through it to the glory of God.  The journey started a long time before January, but some important things happened this year in regards to it.  In reading Walking With God by John Eldredge I learned so much that legitimized my own experiences with God.  His book also showed me the wonderfully Spirit-lead life that I could live if I let God work in me through my gift to its full extent.  This was especially pertinent because it happened during my "Lover Summer" and gave me the promise that the wonder of that summer could continue throughout my life and even be a living spirituality I could share with my family in the future.  After the summer, and before it, I faced a number of challenges related to trusting His voice, but I saw Him come through and deliver on some specific promises--promises that circumstances apparently made impossible, but which He fulfilled nonetheless.  My faith was even bolstered in the midst of trials from unexpected sources, as God confirmed some things He had been speaking to me through the mouths of others who had heard the same.  Forgetting this temporarily, though, I fell into some hard times toward the end of the year.  What I was hearing from God was rejected by some, which led to a lot of really ugly interpersonal conflict.  In the end, I had a conversation with one of the leaders of my church who said that this in itself meant that what I'd heard was not God's will, since His Spirit would have confirmed it to others.  I forgot that He had already done just that and was very distressed for a couple days--since if I couldn't trust what He'd said in this one place where He'd been so very specific and explicit and repetitive then how could I trust anything I heard?  And if I couldn't trust anything I heard, would I lose the ability to experience God's love as I had that summer?  Would I lose the ability to experience it at all, or lose faith totally?  In the end, not only did I remember the confirmation through another that God had given but I realized that, from the Bible, whenever God really communicates with anyone it's true--whether everyone or anyone (even the receiver) believes it or not.  I have found that to be true in my own life, and I hope to see it proved again in the upcoming weeks.

In other news, I broke page 900 in my novel (it will end soon, I swear!), started a webcomic (Dragon Hunt), and blogged...a lot (and about some things I didn't think I could ever talk about).  I traveled to Galveston, Texas and saw dolphins there, then traveled to the Black Hills of South Dakota to see Jewel Cave, Wind Cave, Mount Rushmore, and Crazy Horse.  I got an internship at Waterbrook Multnomah Press which starts this Friday--very exciting.  I made friends with a lot of cool men and women on a new combined Team at church and became involved in a Facebook apologetics forum, making friends there as well.  I mended one very dear friendship through mediation and rebuilt another twice over email etc--which it turns out is the slow way: much more is resolved much faster face to face between two friends.  By faith, I hope to have the pleasure of rebuilding that friendship for a third (and hopefully, final) time in the near future. This kind of healing, though, is a two-person affair and I came across one case where the other party just could not admit any wrong and would not come to the table for anything, and ties had to be cut.  I have admitted all wrong as though it were my own in hope of peace and reconciliation--for which I wait patiently. Academically, I completed my last full calendar year of school ever!  Very exciting.  I also realized that I would have to complete all the most difficult additional requirements of the Honors Program in my last semester if I was to graduate in the Honors Program.  I realized that, while it just might be possible, it would probably make me wish I'd never been born, and with very little gain if I succeeded in it.  Thus, I dropped out of the Honors Program and gained a much simpler final semester of school.  I also discovered the wonders of tabletop gaming (tabletop RPGs), listening between gales of laughter as Stephen Meyer described an unfortunate dragon swallowing a magically transformed frog--only to have it transform back into a "Minor Fell Beast" on the way down (no dragons were harmed in the making of this incident)--and also joining a fantasy campaign of my own (duelwielding characters automatically own, even if they're duelwielding daggers--Oh, and I discovered TV Tropes.com:  I never thought what I'd learned in English classes could be so fun!).

Well, that's about it!  Looking forward to what God will do in the new year!

Reasonable Doubt

One of my honors professors set the signature of his emails to read, in Latin: "doubt everything."  His personal philosophy, at least in class, seemed to back this up.  He was very firmly agnostic and relativist in his views and believed that nothing could be proven because nothing was really true.  He stood in doubt of absolutely everything and considered himself the wiser for it.

These days, this is a very popular stance to take, especially when it comes to God and the supernatural.  Faith is said to be "blind" meaning "contrary to reason and evidence."  Popular culture reals with the apparent struggle between "religion" and "science" (which, in my opinion, is more of a controversy between two religious systems of thought--the fundamentalist Christian worldview and the neo-Darwinian atheist worldview--and their opposing scientific views--Creation science vs Evolutionary science).  This debate is alternately cast as the clash of "faith" and "reason" or "ignorant superstition" and "enlightened logic."  Those who embrace materialistic naturalism (the belief that the physical world is all that exists and that all phenomena in the universe and the universe itself can be explained by purely natural causes) and reject the notions of God and the supernatural are  acclaimed as brilliant, wise, learned, and are portrayed as having arrived at their conclusions through years of careful study of unquestionable empirical evidence and exactingly unbiased exercises in logic.  Those who believe in God are ridiculed as backwards and intellectually stunted.  They are said to hold their belief on the basis of pure emotional wish-fulfillment, magical thinking, and other such muddled illogical things.  Those who hold to further supernatural beings and occurrences (such as prophesy, angels, demons, miracles, visions, healings, etc) beyond the simple idea of a distant creator god are classified as totally insane.

Frankly, all of this makes my position as a Christian and as a mystic somewhat embarrassing.  To believe these things, I am told by popular opinion, I must be very unreasonable.  The only way to truly be reasonable is to doubt them, and the one who doubts them is wise and reasonable by definition.

Thinking about it, though, what I find most embarrassing is that I accept this sort of derision and even hold it as true, more often than I'd like to think about.  It is a shame that we as Christians nod our head to this sort of slander from the world and say, "Yes, yes, our faith cannot be really proven, you just have to accept it without question.  There really is, as you say, no proof, no argument, no logic, no evidence to back up our position: all we have is blind faith."  When we say this by our words and actions we affirm that the only reasonable position out there is the position which stands in doubt or rejection of God and the supernatural.

Is it really true that faith and reason are such bitterly opposed enemies?  Does it really make sense that the God who created our minds and invented reason would insist that we switch these things off in order to even realize He exists?  Would the God who created everything really rig it so there was not a scrap of evidence to prove He was real?  We believe that God came in the flesh around 2,000 years ago as a real historical event, commemorated this very day by the celebration of Christmas...and how then can we believe that all historical evidence is against our position?  It does not make sense!  If these things are true, I say that the atheists are right: if it the only reasonable position is to doubt God, then our god does not exist--or if he does he is playing a cruel joke on us all and is a farce of the God we've believed Him to be.

So, let us be reasonable for a moment.  Let us be unbiased (as much as possible), logical, cool and unswayed by emotionalism or empty claims.  Included in this, let us stand, at least at first, in doubt even of the statement that doubt is reasonable, specifically as it applies to the supernatural.  Let us not accept this on blind faith.  Let it be proven that to be reasonable is to be naturalistic in one's thinking. Is this really true?

Well, if it were really true, then should we not expect the naturalistic explanation to be a fully reasonable one, with no internal inconsistencies?  Should we not expect it to logically and concisely explain the entirety of existence and human experience?  If empirical evidence points only to natural explanations, should we not expect all points of naturalism to be backed by empirical evidence--or at least able to be so backed?  If only the doubt of religion is reasonable then shouldn't there be a reason for everything in naturalistic atheism?  Logically if the claims made about the reasonableness of religious doubt are so, then the answer to all these questions should be yes.  Further, we should be able to see all of these things in our world today.  If doubt is reasonable then it should be supported by reason, no? :)

So, is it?  Here I invite you, the reader, to do your own through investigation.  Leave no stone unturned and shun no source until you have proven it to be unreliable.  I will give the answer that I myself have found out by my own observations and lines of reasoning, but don't take my word for it.  Stand in doubt of me until you have found it true beyond reasonable doubt yourself.

My answer is no: religious doubt does not, in fact, prove to be reasonable.  Naturalistic explanations of the world are filled with internal inconsistencies, including the following: life arising from non-life and everything arising from nothing (contrary to naturalistic science and atheist objections to Genesis), complex design and coded information arising from non-intelligent sources (which are, mind-mindbogglingly, imbued with superhuman intelligence and divine powers whenever anyone writes of such things as natural selection), dating inconsistencies, conflicting causation theories, and many more.  Little reliable empirical evidence for such views exists and all such evidence has equally valid counter explanations, and huge parts of the worldview cannot even be backed by empirical evidence (including empiricism itself, which asserts that empirical evidence is the most reliable, yet can give no naturalist reason as to why this should be, see the following).  Further, naturalistic atheism is totally unable to give any reasonable explanation for most things.  The naturalistic atheist answer to the question of why we even exist is a classic example of this: "There is no reason!  We're all just freak accidents!  It just happened!"  This is the standard "reason" given for pretty much everything, even though the probability of so many "accidents" coinciding to create the reality we observe to exist is admittedly so staggeringly small that to say it is "improbable" that everything just happened is a laughable understatement.  To say it is impossible strikes nearer the truth but still fails to express just how absurdly small and insurmountable the odds are.  Based on this, if I were to say that the only reasonable position is the position of religious doubt, I would be intellectually dishonest.

If anything, the reality is the opposite: faith is a thing proven, or at least provable, beyond reasonable doubt--if only one side can be reasonable, it is the believer's, not the unbelievers.  A strong case for the total internal consistency of the Christian worldview can and, in many cases, has been made.  While Christianity makes no  claim that only empirical evidence is valid, many of its claims can be empirically proven--and only it gives a reason that empirical proof should work (in the Christian worldview the natural world is consistent because God set up its laws and He is consistent; in the atheistic world, why should we expect a randomly generated world to be consistent rather than random?).  The Christian worldview can give a reasonable explanation for everything, and, in most cases, has already done so many times over.

If this is true, then it changes our approach to apologetics and faith.  We should not accept new beliefs blindly if we do not know their source to be reliable.  We should not, as the Mormons do, accept something as true simply because it provides some emotional appeal (Mormons converts are encouraged to believe the Book of Mormon if, upon praying about it, they receive a "testimony"--which amounts to positive emotional feelings).  While emotions and experiences are valid and real--having been created by God--so are reason, logic, and evidence--having been created by the same God.  When we have proven the trustworthiness of something beyond reasonable doubt (such as the Bible), we should then treat any doubts that arise concerning it accordingly.  After all, if I believe gravity to be proven beyond reasonable doubt (which I do) then I will approach any claims of violating the law of gravity or any doubts that such a law exists with suspicion.  Rather than first going to re-evaluate and re-prove the validity of that which I have established to be beyond reasonable doubt, I should first try to find out if the doubt that has just arisen is reasonable (is there reasonable grounds for questioning the validity of the source that has claimed that the law of gravity is a farce?).  I should go through life with the inherent assumption in everything I do that what I believe and have proven to be true actually is true.  If I believe it and have proven it, I should build my life around it.

When it comes to questions raised by others, it is lazy of me to simply defend my own position.  If Christianity is reasonable and atheism is not, then why not point out that this is the case.  Instead of being content to fend off the challenges of the religious doubters, why not issue some challenges for them?  It is only reasonable to do so, if the truth of Christianity is--as I hold it to be--proven beyond reasonable doubt.

The Cosmological Argument & Conclusions

There's no proof that God exists!


If I had a nickel for every time an atheist says that, I'm sure I'd be rich.  My experience is, though, that this statement simply isn't true.  Today, I'd like to share one of my favorite reasons why: the Kalam formulation of the Cosmological Argument--and show just how far the implications of this argument can go.

Basic Argument:
The Cosmological Argument has three parts:

1. Everything that has a beginning to its existence has an external cause.
2. The universe has a beginning to its existence.
3. Therefore the universe has an external cause.

The evidence for the premises is pretty extensive.  The first premise is supported by common knowledge.  Everyone knows that everything that begins to exist has a cause.  If you heard a loud bang and asked what caused it, you would be very surprised, and also very dubious, if someone replied, "Oh, those just happen.  Nothing causes them."  Though no one may know the cause (and no one may care) you would certainly know that a cause existed.  You would be equally frustrated if the person replied, "Oh, actually, that bang caused itself."  Now, that's just silly.  Logically, the cause of a thing cannot be the thing itself.  An oak tree may grow in the forest from the acorn of another oak tree, but it does not grow from one of its own acorns (except perhaps in science fiction where the tree might produce a logical paradox by going back in time and planting itself with one of it's own acorns).

The second premise is supported by the scientific evidence provided by the study of our universe.  There are several sorts of evidence showing this.  The first is the expansion of the universe.  The universe is now known to be expanding in all directions at high speed.  Given this fact, scientists conclude that the universe must have been smaller in the past, and that in the distant past the universe must have been shrunk down to an infinitesimally tiny point, that it must have had a beginning to its own existence and all this expanding at the Big Bang.  This is the most widely accepted scenario, but all scientists do agree that the universe is not eternal.  It has a beginning.  A second point of evidence, more often ignored, is the Second Law of Thermodynamics.  The Second Law of Thermodynamics is that any system, left to its own devices, tends to accumulate more entropy (disorder, randomness, and chaos).  I have heard some people try to dodge the Second Law by claiming it only applies to closed systems, but that is ridiculous.  We can observe that the Second Law applies to every system we can observe and we have yet to observe a system which violates it--hence the term "law."  We cannot observe any actual closed systems, since it is impossible (or at least nearly impossible) to create one: no matter how well we insulate an environment, there will be some movement of heat, energy, or material with the outside world, preventing the system from ever being truly closed--and yet the Second Law will still apply to it.  In any case, the Second Law, when applied to the universe, demands at least that the universe have a beginning.  If the universe was eternal, then the Second Law would have had an infinite amount of time to fill it with infinite entropy (which thankfully, it hasn't).  Therefore, the universe must have a beginning.

From these premises, the conclusion follows naturally.  If all things which have a beginning to their existence must have an external cause, and the universe has a beginning to its existence, then the inescapable conclusion is that the universe too has an external cause.  A Christian would assert that this cause is God.

Objections

At this point, atheists assert a number of objections.  One of the most common is that the cosmological argument requires that God also have a cause, or a god who created God.  This is a reductio ad absurdum argument.  The atheist attempts to reduce the cosmological argument to so much mush by showing that it proves God must have a cause, and that cause must have a cause and so on and so forth:

1. Everything which begins to exist has an external cause
2. God has a beginning to His existence
3. Therefore God has an external cause

Unfortunately, this attempt is, in itself, absurd.  The universe is defined as the sum of all space-time and matter-energy, all of which are known to have had a beginning.  As stated above, the cause of the universe, must be external to the universe since the universe cannot cause itself to exist.  To put it another way, the cause of space-time must exist beyond space-time.  Things which exist beyond time cannot have a beginning, since a beginning requires time to be meaningful.  Furthermore, the definition of God as used by Christians is an eternal (beginningless) being.  It would be a contradiction in terms to say that God has a beginning.  Thus, the atheist  argument for a cause of God falls apart.

1. Everything which has a beginning to its existence has an external cause--> Proven by common knowledge.
2. God has a beginning to His existence--> Glaring error: contradiction in terms!  By definition, God and/or the cause of the universe cannot have a beginning to His/their existence.
3. Therefore God has an external cause--> Rejected due to invalidation of premise 2

Most often, atheists try to get around this problem by trying a reformulation of the Cosmological Argument, hoping it will be one to which God will not be immune and one in which they can trap and prove illogical His existence:

1. Everything that exists has a cause.
2. God exists.
3. Therefore God has a cause.

The problem with this reformulation is that it substantially changes the Cosmological Argument.  Usually the atheist tries to act as though the reformulated premise 1 is identical and interchangeable with the original first premise, but it isn't.  Not everything that exists has a cause: only things which have a beginning to their existence have causes!  Logically things with beginnings are the only things which can have causes.  Imagine I took you out to see a magical bridge over a river and told you that this bridge had always existed, and in fact somehow proved that it was so.  Would you then ask me how that bridge came to be, what caused it?  If you did, I would know for certain that you had rejected my statement that the bridge had no beginning: for only things which have a beginning can have a cause.

At this point, the atheist will object that only God is proposed as having a beginningless existence and will try to dismiss the argument as a theistic ploy.  However, this is simply not true.  While there are no magical eternal bridges over rivers, there are a great many things that have always been around, or at least very probably have always existed.  The first set of things is the rules of logic.  The rules of logic exist: we prove that every time we appeal to them as meaningful things in our arguments and daily lives.  The rules of logic exist, and therefore square circles and eight-sided triangles cannot.  Furthermore, the rules of logic do not have a beginning.  There has never been a time when square circles and eight-sided triangles have been free to exist, because the rules of logic have always been in existence.  The Cosmological Argument itself assumes this, because if logic had a beginning and that beginning was before the existence of the universe, then there can be no logical argument (nor any speculation) about the beginning of the universe.  If the rules of logic began to exist at some point, then we might as well say that the universe worblestattled into flummox without a cause, first taking the shape of a giant pink-and-green polka-dotted rabbit--because all logic and reason goes right out the window.  Fortunately for this blog however, logic exists and has no beginning.  The physical laws of the universe also, though at one time lacking anything to operate on, are also unanimously accepted as existing (you aren't floating as you read this: gravity exists) and having no beginning (when the first particles of matter were created in the universe, they were attracted to each other by gravity--though driven apart by still greater forces).  Additional examples may be found, such as moral law, but I have gone on long enough to prove my point:

1. Everything that exists has a cause-->Only things with a beginning can logically have a cause.  A great many things that exist do not have beginnings.  Therefore the number of exceptions to this premise invalidate it.
2. God exists.-->You'll get no argument from me on that one!
3. Therefore God has a cause-->Conclusion invalidated by refutation of first premise.

Another objection is that if God exists--even uncaused--the Cosmological Argument shoots itself in the foot.  After all, God must have decided at some point to create the universe.  This decision must have had a beginning and thus been proceeded by a number of other thoughts, factors and causes, stretching back infinitely.  Since many who hold to the Kalam Cosmological Argument also hold that an actual infinity cannot exist, the atheist uses this to shoot the argument down, since applying it to the thoughts of God results in an actual infinite.

There are two problems with this approach, however.  First of all, it ignores the fact that a meaningful beginning requires time.  In deciding to create the universe, God could not have had any temporal thought of creating it, and thus none of His thoughts would have had a meaningful beginning.  Some atheists try to get around this by admitting that, while God's thoughts wouldn't have had a beginning in time (since time did not exist), they would have at least proceeded one another in logical terms.  After all, I can say, "Because triangles are three-sided shapes, an eight-sided triangle cannot exist" and the thoughts proceed one another without requiring time.  Unfortunately, the Cosmological Argument does not apply to such relationships.  While the invalidation of eight-sided triangles may have a beginning in the realm of logic, it does not have a temporal beginning (a very different kind of beginning), and that kind of beginning is the only kind the Cosmological Argument can speak to.  So, whether there were proceeding thoughts or no, the Cosmological Argument would have no bearing on them.

Finally, an atheist may object that the cosmological argument is comparing apples to oranges.  Since the universe is the set of all space, time, matter, and energy, the argument goes, it is not a "thing."  Only "things" which begin to exist require causes.  Since the set is not a member of itself, atheists feel free to arbitrarily exempt it from the logical implications of having a beginning.  Unfortunately, the universe itself defeats this approach, by behaving in every way exactly like its members.  Its members are subject to natural law, and so is it.  A rock (a member of the universe), if thrown upward, will experience the force of gravity pulling it back down. Similarly, the universe (the set of all its members) also experiences gravity, to the extent that sufficient gravity would be able to halt its expansion and pull it back down.  Its members are also subject to the rules of logic--which is why the universe contains no square circles or ever-popular eight-sided triangles. The universe itself is also subject to the same rules--and thus cannot be shaped like a square circle or an eight-sided triangle.  This subjection to the rules of logic is the most important, since the Cosmological Argument is logic.  If the universe behaves in a way subject to the rules of logic in the same way as its individual members behave, then we can indeed call it a "thing" since it behaves like a thing, and thus it will remain subject to the Cosmological Argument.  It's beginning will not be an exception: it too will have an external cause.

Implications

Since the Cosmological Argument stands firm in asserting that the universe has a cause external to itself, some atheists will accept it and yet still resist identifying the cause as God.  At first, this is very logical.  After all, the Cosmological Argument's simple premises do not say anything except that an external cause to the universe exists.  They do not readily identify that cause as the God of Christianity.  However, the logical implications of the argument can do just that.

To start, we can look at the implications of the last part of the conclusion: the universe has a cause external to itself.  This means that the cause must exist beyond time, space, matter, and energy.  To put it another way, the cause must be eternal (not bound by time), omnipresent (not bound by space), non-corporeal (not bound by matter), and omnipotent (not  bound by energy).

Consider first the common atheist assertion that the cause of the universe was a set of pre-existing conditions or a mindless impersonal force.  In both situations, the resulting situation is the same.  If the cause of the universe is simply a mindless creative power, then that power would have existed eternally beyond time.  Since this power would have no will to restrain it or send it forth, it would immediately create the universe.  It would be the same as turning on a light switch and screwing in a lightbulb into its socket.  The electric circuit has no will, so as soon as it is capable of turning on the lightbulb, it will.  Since the impersonal force would have existed eternally, it would have been eternally capable of creating the universe and would have, as a result, created it in eternity past.  The result is a lightbulb that has always been on, a universe that has always existed.  Yet, of course, we know that the universe has not always existed: it has a beginning.  Therefore, the cause of the universe cannot be a mindless force or a set of preconditions: it must have a free will which can equally choose to create or not create the universe.  Only in this situation does the non-eternal existence of the universe make sense, since it is not logically necessary for a being with such free will to immediately choose to create the universe, or to choose to create the universe at all.  In this case, (going back to the light switch and the light bulb) it is equally possible for the electric circuit to be opened or closed and therefore the circuit can be capable of turning on the lightbulb, but not do so.

So, the cause must have enormous power and must have incredible freedom of will.  But is the cause intelligent?  For answer, we can look at the universe it has caused.  This universe contains information in the form of DNA (lots and lots of information).  So far as we know, all information has an intelligent source.  We cannot conceive of any set of coded information which would not have an intelligent source.  If it didn't have an intelligent source, it wouldn't be information.  An example of its unanimous assumption in play is the search for extra-terrestrial life.  We scan the skies for radio signals (a form of information).  If we find a signal, but show that it has a non-intelligent source (such as a quasar), we say that it's not actually a signal, it's not information.  So, if the universe contains information in the form of DNA codes, then these--however they were actually produced--must have an intelligent source.  Thus, the cause of this information-containing universe must be intelligent.

So, we have an intelligent, self-sovereign being who is omnipotent, eternal, omnipresent, and non-corporeal as the proven cause of the universe.  That, I think is enough to conclude that this cause is some kind of god: though what kind it does not exactly say.  Further investigation, however, can narrow the field.

Consider, for instance, the question of whether this god is good or evil.  A good answer to this question goes back to the Second Law of Thermodynamics.  Much of what we consider evil (decay, death, chaos, destruction) is scientifically considered entropy.  According to the Second Law, the entropy of the universe is increasing.  That means that, when the universe first began, it had much less, or even no, entropy.  The universe began in a very good state.  Since evil creates evil and good creates good, it is logical to conclude that the god who caused the universe was entirely or at least mostly good.  To assume the former makes much sense of moral law.  A perfectly moral being can serve as a source of moral law, anchoring its existence.

If we assume a perfectly good god, can we still wind up with the Deist's god, who exists but refuses to reveal himself?  I do not think so.  One of the properties of goodness is to take proper care of one's things.  God created the universe, therefore it is his thing.  If he were not to take care of it, he would not be a good god.  Thus, this perfectly good god must be involved in the universe.

How then can we justify this conclusion with the fact that evil continues to persist in our universe, and, in many cases goes on unpunished?  If this god is perfectly moral he must also be perfectly just.  He must punish all wrongdoing.  Not all wrongdoing is punished in this observable life.  Therefore, a further unobserved existence (an afterlife) must exist wherein this god must punish wrongdoing.  To what extent does he do this?  Well, since all of us break our moral codes, and fall far short of any perfect objective moral code, we must conclude that this justice in the afterlife will be severe and that all of us will be subject to it.  At first, there seems to be no way out of it.

However, one of the properties of perfect morality is love, compassion, and mercy.  If god demonstrates perfect justice, he must also demonstrate these properties perfectly as well.  This puts god in a paradox.  First of all, these are all relational properties: how can a god display them in eternal existence if alone?  The only solution is if God, by Himself, is not alone, if He is, as Christianity puts forth, a Trinity.  Second, if God must be perfectly merciful and perfectly just to us, how can he at the same time punish our wrongdoing and pardon our sin?  The only possible answer is if some form of substitution can be made.  If someone volunteers to and is able to take punishment for all of our wrongdoing, then we may be pardoned on this one's behalf.  The only one able to bear such infinite punishment and the only one normally exempt from punishment Himself is God.  Ingeniously, the first solution solves the second problem.  If God is in relationship with Himself as a Trinity, then one of the members of the Trinity is capable of voluntarily performing a substitution on behalf of us and all Creation for God Himself.  If such a substitution were to be performed (which logically it would be required, given the present state of the universe and the proven state of God), then it would not be automatically applied to all against their will.  After all, any substitution requires the agreement of all three parties: the two original parties (the accused and the judge) and the third party (the substitute).  The substitute cannot decide to give himself the punishment and call it even if the judge and the accused don't agree to it.  Neither can the judge substitute the third party against his will, nor can a substitution agreed upon by the judge and the third party go into affect if the accused refuses it.  So, the situation stands so: God, the judge, and God, the substitute, have both agreed to the substitution since it is the only way to uphold His justice and His mercy simultaneously.  Most of us, however, have not yet agreed, and there is no guarantee we will.  We are perfectly free to refuse, since making the offer and being willing to uphold it is what maintains God's perfect morality--it is not contingent on us accepting it.  On the other hand, we are perfectly free to accept God's offer, if we do so, we receive the mercy of God in the afterlife rather than his justice...and that is the gospel from the Kalam Cosmological Argument and its implications.

As Sisters in Christ, or The Importance of a Comma

To my Brothers in Christ, in consideration of my Sisters in Christ:

There's a verse that is often quoted in my church regarding the proper relationship between young men and women.  It's 1 Timothy 5:2, which exhorts the reader (a young man, Timothy) to treat "younger women as sisters, with absolute purity."

Now, very often when this verse is quoted, the emphasis is placed on the word purity, and often in my own mind, I place the emphasis there, on the word purity rather than on the word sisters.  What I understand from that emphasis is that it is more important to behave myself with purity toward my Sisters in Christ than it is to behave myself toward them as a brother would and should.  In fact, since the definition of purity in our language today is simply an absence of impurity, then by this definition of absence it seems perfectly okay to not treat my Sisters in Christ as sisters at all.  After all, if I have no relations with them whatsoever, I cannot be accused of being impure toward them and therefore I have, in my mind fulfilled the command of 1 Timothy 5:2.

At least, so I might think.  But in fact, the Bible has a very different perspective on that sort of behavior.  The New Testament everywhere abounds with commands for Christians (regardless of gender, age, ethnicity, or social standing) to love each other with the same extreme love that Christ shows to the Church.  1 Timothy 5:2, further, says not only that we men are to treat younger women with absolute purity, but also that we are to treat them as sisters--and this last implies that there must be some sort of relationship between Brothers and Sisters in Christ.  They are not to have the purity-by-default that comes from just never speaking to each other.  They are to be treated as sisters, too.

Or are they?  Here is where the placement of the comma in 1 Timothy 5:2 becomes important.  A comma denotes a separation of phrases and removing it changes the meaning of a sentence (most famously the sentence: "A panda is a large black and white mammal that eats, shoots, and leaves.").  So, 1 Timothy 5:2 can be read two ways.  First, it can be read as treat "younger women as sisters with absolute purity" meaning that, in addition to treating the younger women as sisters, we are to--above and beyond that--treat them with absolute purity.  This implies that there is something lacking in the purity of ones relationship with one's sister.  It means that it would be impure for a Brother and Sister in Christ to act like an actual brother and sister.  In order to guard against some unspecified impurity that exists in ones natural family, a man must treat the women around him as sisters with absolute purity on top of that.

But that's not what the verse says, because that part of 1 Timothy 5:2 contains a comma, separating the clauses as sisters and with absolute purity.  This means that it can be read as two clauses repeating the same idea, rather than one (with absolute purity) adding onto the other (as sisters).  That means that it could just as well read treat "younger women with absolute purity, as sisters" or, as the New Living Translation has it: "treat younger women with all purity as you would your own sisters."  This second reading disavows the implications of the first one.  Rather than saying there is some sinister impurity in the brother-sister relationship which must be guarded against, it creates an equivalency: treating younger women as sisters is the same as treating them with absolute purity.  This is an important distinction to make, and it effects the way we behave toward our Sisters in Christ: it means we are to love them literally as if they were our own flesh-and-blood sisters (because in Christ, that's what they are).  The bond between brothers and sisters in our own families can (and, ideally, should) be deep and strong, a source of support and comfort.  Brothers and sisters do all sorts of things together and their relationships may be very intimate, but at the same time never contains a hint of impurity.  I may, for example, hug my little sister, spend a lot of time with her, and tell her my secrets, but I would never lust for her or incite her to lust for me.  That's just not natural!  It simply doesn't come into my mind, not because my sister looks like a sack of potatoes (she doesn't) but because I love her too much to even consider such an impure thing.  The same thing, I think, should ideally be true of our relationships with our Sisters in Christ.  Obviously, we should have no impurity toward them, which includes no lusting for them.  But we should not achieve this purity by strictly restraining our love toward our Sisters in Christ by an arbitrary list of legalistic standards that say what we can and can't do to them, with them, or for them (I see no justification in the Bible for ever cutting back in loving anyone, and these methods are not actually effective anyway).  We don't act that way to our natural sisters!  Rather, we should let our Christ-given love for our Sisters in Christ play out, precluding the possibility of impurity toward them, just as our natural love for our sisters precludes the possibility of lusting for them.

To give an example of how this might play out, I was at a group prayer meeting a couple weeks back, sitting on a couch with our group gathered around.  On the other end of the couch was another Christian guy and between us sat a Sister in Christ we both knew.  At one point during the praying, this Sister became reminded of a past loss she had suffered and began to cry hard.  There were no other girls on the couch, just me and this other Brother in Christ.  What were we to do?  Both of us tried to use 1 Timothy 5:2 as a guideline.  My Brother in Christ interpreted the verse as read with the comma, with the emphasis being on sisters because treating a woman as as sister means treating her with absolute purity.  He concluded that the right course of action would be whatever he would do to this young woman if she were is flesh-and-blood sister.  Unfortunately, he came from a family of all boys and so he didn't know what that actually meant, and he sat paralyzed (in his defense, he later brought up the question of what to do, and learned from others who did  have brothers and sisters).  As for me, I interpreted the verse as if it had no comma.  I was aware that the ideal was to treat this young woman as my sister.  Since I have two sisters, I was further aware that an actual brother would try to comfort her in some way, possibly by putting an arm around her shoulder and asking what's wrong.  However, I was putting the emphasis on purity and believing that a brother-sister relationship was somehow deficient.  If I comforted her as I would my own sister, then, would that be one of the brother-sister impurities that 1 Timothy 5:2 (as I misread it) alluded to?  I did not know, and so I--knowing the correct course of action but fearing it was somehow absurdly improper--was also paralyzed (fortunately for this young woman, she had some Sisters in Christ in the room who stepped in and comforted her instead, when both of us men failed to do so).  It is a small thing, but it illustrates the principle.  If we try to absurdly stack sisterhood and purity, we will wind up failing in our Christian duty to love one another because we will hold back in fear and let our love grow cold.  If we realize that sisterhood and purity are one and the same, we will love in a better, purer way than we ever have before.