Thinking-Christianly

Today’s blog is a bit philosophical. But we are all philosophers and think about big questions even though we do not use $25 words to describe them. So I invite you to give some thought to the concepts below that argue against the premise that the universe is somehow eternal.

Cosmology is the study of the universe. In the distant past it was assumed that the universe was eternal and existed forever. But in the last generation there has been considerable reflection on that premise and much discussion about what is known as the “big bang” theory. This is a popular way of describing the Friedman-Lemaître model, which looked at the “redshift” in the light waves of the galaxies moving away from us and concluded that the universe is expanding. In 1929 American astronomer Edwin Hubble verified the theory of Lemaître and Friedman, changing the debate in our modern age.

The implications of this model, which is increasingly popular, leads to the conclusion that the universe had a beginning. There was a time when it did not exist. This lines up well with Genesis 1:1, which describes God as the creator of all things. If all matter and energy did not exist, it had to be produced by something that was different from matter or energy. For that agent to have material properties or be some kind of energy force is illogical. If all matter and energy at one time did not exist, then the agent that produced such things had to be a different order than matter or energy. The Christian perspective is that this creator was the God who revealed himself in scripture.

Some resist the conclusion of the “big bang” theory that gives credence to the biblical account. They assume that the universe can somehow be infinitely old. But that premise also fails on other grounds. For example, think of counting back from this second to infinity. You might go 0, -1, -2, -3, etc. Before any number could be counted an infinity of numbers would have to be counted first. You get driven back to the past so that no numbers can ever be counted. No matter how many numbers you count, there are an infinity of numbers to go. No series of numbers formed this way can actually be infinite.

William Lane Craig points out that the second law of thermodynamics also argues against an eternal universe. He asks, “If, given enough time, the universe will inevitably stagnate in a state of heat death, then why, if it has existed forever, is it not now in a state of heat death?” We should already be in this state of equilibrium if we’ve had an infinity of time to reach it. But the universe is not in a state of heat death. That points to a finite beginning.

One of the social expectations of the church is that we demonstrate love and compassion for those around us. The Bible calls followers of Christ to love their neighbors and show mercy. James 1:27 states, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

We often look at the first part of that command these days—and we should. But sometimes we forget the second command. Part of the prescription for a Christ-honoring faith is that we not embrace the values and ideas of the world that would undermine and corrupt the teaching of Christ. There are truths that are to shape and guide our spiritual formation that must not be compromised.

In the first century the battle was often against syncretism—the tendency to bring in the beliefs of nearby religions. Thinking Christians face the same challenge today. Our battle may include shielding our faith from New Age pantheistic ideas, premises of pop psychology, and secular or humanistic values that permeate the culture in which we live.

As we seek to live generous and unselfish lives, the Bible calls us to give attention to the substance and practice of our faith. It’s not an either/or issue; but a both/and approach. If our world view becomes infected with ideas that compromise the centrality of Christ, the reality of our sinful condition, or the uniqueness of his saving work, then the recipients of our benevolent acts will not be closer to eternal life as a result of our influence in their lives. We lose creditability if our life does not align with our teaching. We lose our effectiveness if our teaching does not align with God’s revelation. We can improve the quality of their short journey in this life, but it will still be a journey toward absolute destruction if our life and our message are tainted with error.

The combination of compassion and truth is powerful. It will not persuade everyone because the ability to see the divine reality in both is a work of the Holy Spirit. But together these two elements present the world with a reason to join Christ followers in aligning their lives around the person of Christ and embracing the radical life he offers any who will surrender to him.

Last night I caught pieces of a Nova program about the Bible. The photography and graphics were well done. It was a very polished presentation in many ways. One of the underlying assumptions in the narrative of the program related to history and myth.

Archaeologist had discovered a stone in a rather remote area in western Israel that contained a primitive Hebrew alphabet. It appears to be around the time of 1,000 B.C. The experts noted that according to the Bible, David ruled the united kingdom around that time. Because they found evidence of Hebrew writing in that general period, the writers of the show concluded that it was possible that David was an historic figure. He may really have existed. There were some scholars who doubted that King David ever lived, but to their credit the producers opened the door to the possibility that he was a real person.

Unfortunately, they dismissed most of the history before 1,000 B.C. as myth and legend. And the reason for their doing so is that they do not possess significant amounts of written evidence (outside of the Bible) about earlier events, especially those of Genesis. This dismissal of the early parts of scripture rests on two unfounded assumptions. First, it assumes that biblical texts are fraudulent until ‘proven’ otherwise. One would wonder if they would bring the same level of skepticism to documents from other cultures. Some historians might. But the presumption of deliberate error and historic misrepresentation in the Hebrew texts does not prove anything. It’s an arbitrary assumption that is neither scientific nor scholarly.

For example, my grandmother told a story about her childhood and life in the great depression. The story, that includes details about several neighbors and family members, is not recorded in any surviving newspapers of the day. That generation is now deceased. I can presume that the story is completely fiction and that it never happened because I have no external evidence. And there is always the possibility that grandma was making up things to amuse the grandchildren. But she did not share the story as anything but fact, and her character was such that her words were extremely reliable.

In a similar way, the Old Testament has consistently demonstrated its reliability in accurately describing the history of Israel from 1,000 B.C. onward. Archaeological finds and records in Egypt, Babylon and other ancient cultures echo much of the same historical accounts we find in the pages of the Old Testament.

We don’t find stories of dragons giving birth to island nations, a pantheon of deities interacting with humans in sexual ways, or directions to worship inanimate parts of the cosmos (like the sun). Instead, we see a simple account of the origin of the race of man as a special creation of a personal God. Our modern troubles are explained because we learn that we are indeed a race in rebellion against a perfect and loving God. The central struggle we face is our broken moral nature, not anything physical. We have an immaterial part that will continue after our physical demise. These core realities are disclosed in the context of the Genesis narrative so that we understand where we came from and the nature of our primary struggles in life. The account explains who we are.

More than that, the New Testament goes on to describe the future we can enjoy. By voluntarily returning to our role as subjects of God who accept his sacrifice in Christ to reconcile us to him, we can experience harmony and life, both now and after our death. If we choose to stay in our state of alienation and reject his provision of forgiveness and mercy, we will remain separate forever. We have value and purpose. We have hope.

Consider the following questions:

• How much does love weigh?
• What is the speed of zinc?
• How long is blue?
• What is the density of honesty?

Each of the questions above has no answer. It does not mean that love, zinc, blue, and honesty do not exist. What makes it impossible to answer the questions is that the kind of measurement used to frame the question does not apply to the object to which it is applied. It’s like stating that a green bean is a democrat. In logic, this is called a category error.

Some of the modern argumentation against the existence of God falls into this class. Everything that we see in the physical realm seems to have a source or point of origin. Except for those who assume that matter and/or energy is eternal, this view of reality causes us to look for the origin behind things that exist. That prompts critics to ask the question, “Who made God?” They reason that since the components of the physical universe have a source, so must God. And if God (or a god) made everything, then something made that creator being, and something made the previous deity or reality, and the process continues into the past without end. They claim that the notion of a creator God is just a case for infinite regression and therefore nonsense.

The category mistake in this argument is that it assumes God is of the same category as the measurable components of the universe. But the argument from the theistic perspective is that God is a different class of being. He is uncaused. When the critic responds, “I don’t know anything that is uncaused,” he is telling the truth. But that personal observation of the critic does not prohibit an uncaused being from existing. We can conceive of an uncaused being like God. He may or may not exist as far as some are concerned. But to declare he cannot exist is an arbitrary assertion.

One who discounts the existence of God based on the idea that everything in the universe (visible and invisible) must have a source creates another problem for the critic. The one who challenges the idea of an uncaused creator does not have an answer for the origin of anything that exists. The idea that everything in the physical universe started with a big bang does not resolve the dilemma. The question then becomes, “What was there before that incident?” Unless we embrace the idea of an absolute nothing producing something—and a very gigantic something at that—we still wrestle with the idea of an origin behind the postulated event. The non-theistic perspective leads to the same infinite regression it applies to the idea of a creator who was somehow caused. The charge cuts both ways.

The idea that God is a being whose existence is in a category all its own is not intellectual folly. It is a viable possibility that deserves consideration by those willing to ponder the realities of existence.

One of the most visible writers in the “new atheist” movement is Richard Dawkins. He uses his great skill in language to craft memorable phrases that mock and deride people who dare to believe that God exists. He is engaging as a writer because he uses creative language to make his point

For example, he claims, “there is no more and no less reason to believe the four canonical gospels. All have the status of legends, as factually dubious as the stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.” Dawkins gives no proof to support the claim. Dawkins is a highly educated man. It would not be out of line to expect that serious discussion of the subject would include some specific evidence demonstrating how the manuscript evidence for the New Testament is inferior to other ancient writings. An assertion without proof is only speculation or conjecture—at best. If there is no proof for the claim, it is a falsehood.

Generalities may score points with readers sympathetic to the position of the writer, but they do not bring critical thinking to the issues being discussed. There is a tendency to give credence to a charge like the one Dawkins makes simply because it is asserted with flair and great confidence.

In our time, making such a sweeping assertion may be regarded by some as all that is needed. Our 24-hour news media is quick to jump on the probable guilt of someone because they are accused of wrongdoing. Consider the three Duke lacrosse students who were charged with sexual assault on March of 2006 and not exonerated until April 2007. Or recall the accusations against Judge Clarence Thomas when he was being assessed for his role on the Supreme Court. Or think about your own reaction when someone shares negative gossip about a friend or relative of yours. There is something inside us that thinks, “This may be a surprise, but what if it’s true?” The articulation of a charge without proof can often cast doubt and make us less confident of the person or idea—even if there is no evidence that the accusation is true. It appeals to the suspicious and cynical parts of our thinking.

If we are to protect the ideas of justice and truth—both in safeguarding relationships and values—we must cultivate a healthy skepticism until we are given some compelling evidence to support such generalities.

But laziness often wins. And since we are swamped by information, those who make demeaning claims can often assume that we won’t engage in independent thinking about the issue. They realize that we will often give their charges weight and assume that the evidence that they did not bother to share somehow supports their claim. When this happens, the fault lies not with the person seeking to persuade, but with you and me.

The remedy is that we recognize sweeping generalizations for what they are. Thoughtful interaction demands that we insist all claims be supported with evidence. It requires that the person making the claim understand and respond to major proofs those on the other side of the issue put forth. (For example, the manuscript evidence for the New Testament dwarfs that of other ancient documents in the Western world, including the writings of Homer, Thucydides, and Tacitus.)

Those who claim to be followers of Christ can be guilty of the same charge. They can paint the character, motives, or ideas of agnostics or atheists with a broad brush. They can twist scripture to endorse pet ideas that are not consistent with the Biblical text. Such behavior is intellectually lazy and morally wrong.

It takes work, time, and extra effort to seriously assess the values and ideas that form a world view. But the consequences of not investing in this effort produce a culture—and even a church—that staggers from one misconception to another and lives in a world of shadows instead of reality.

There is a natural tendency to value people in terms of their potential. For example, Take Gretchen, who is about to graduate with an economics degree. She has demonstrated maturity and great proficiency in her field of study. As she stands on the threshold of her future we expect great things to happen because of her proven work ethic, character, and competence. Compare Gretchen with Alex. Alex has great character and strong motivation, but his achievements are average. He also faces significant long-term health issues because of his diabetes. Both apply to grad school and are accepted. Which of the two is the better investment for a caring professor? It’s natural to assume that investing in Gretchen will produce greater results than investing in Alex.

One of the surprises about Jesus is that he “wasted” some of his efforts in others who would not be stellar contributors to the kingdom of his Father. Some of the twelve apostles are shadowy figures whose actions are not recorded in the New Testament records. We know nothing about the ministry of Bartholomew, James son of Alphaeus, Thaddaeus, or Simon the Zealot. They did not become superstars of the early church, as did Peter and Paul. All the teaching directed at Judas was in vain. His doubts and his personal agenda prevented him from fully embracing Jesus disclosure of himself as the messiah.

And then there is the three whom Jesus focused on—Peter, James, and John. Even here, Jesus’ method is surprising. Peter and John became notable leaders in the early church. But Jesus also mentored James, who would be one of the early martyrs. (He is not to be confused with the James of Acts 15, who is probably the half-brother of Christ.) In Acts 12:2 Luke records, “He [Herod] had James, the brother of John, put to death with the sword.”

Jesus knew what was in store for all the disciples he mentored. He could see the journey that their trust in Him would take them on to the end of their days. And he realized that the future of James on earth would be short. Yet Christ devoted significant time in loving, teaching, and encouraging James and John and Peter. He does not do “people math” like we do. His investment was linked to a wisdom that is higher than ours. James did belong in the inner circle, even though he would outlive his Lord only by a short time.

Jesus does not discriminate on the basis of perceived potential when it comes to investing in people. He reaches out to all of us, despite our limitations or our longevity on this side of heaven. He does not link his engagement in our lives to the amount of payback we can give him. So when you feel as though Christ would be better off focusing on those with more potential than yourself, remember that he thinks differently than we do. His grace and mercy are so abundant that he delights in pouring into your life, despite your shortcomings. Don’t be afraid to give all of your life, no matter what it may look like, into the hands of Christ. Resist the temptation to opt out of the kind of partnership Jesus wants to cultivate with you. Every individual is significant to him. Engage with His call, His Spirit, and His word. His labor for you and his investment in you will not fail to pay the kinds of dividends that matter to him.

Weak religions cannot handle the marketplace of ideas. Because they fear the open and honest exchange of ideas, they often suppress the expression of competing notions in the public square. This past week, for example, Afghan authorities suspended two Christian foreign aid groups on the suspicion that they may have attempted to win converts to Christianity. The deputy director of the Afghan government admitted that they did not have evidence of any proselytizing. But the charge in itself was sufficient for action.

When Christianity is practiced in accordance with the moral and ethical principles of the New Testament, it does not fear pluralism or competition for the hearts and souls of men. One of the wonderful byproducts of biblical Christian thought in the life of a nation is the freedom of religious dialogue. When the foundational concepts of Christianity are applied to their logical ends, freedom of speech and freedom of religious belief are encouraged. This includes the freedom to reject or accept the teachings of the Bible about the person and work of Christ.

In the early church there was a robust presentation of the claims of Christ in a culture that did not always welcome this message. Despite opposition and death—including such notable early leaders as Stephen and James—the members of the early church put forth their claims about Christ for others to consider. (See Acts 12.) Because the church had no power, there was no coercion.

Unfortunately, when later generations drifted from their biblical roots, they eventually became as oppressive as some Islamic states are today. Biblical Christianity slowly morphed into a faith built on power rather than truth.

The situation progressed in the fourth century, when the church became entangled in the state after Constantine. Abandoning a biblical worldview, the growing Roman Catholic Church traded truth for political power and lost its spiritual moorings. It became powerful, but largely functioned as a secular institution rather than a reflection of the teachings of Christ.

Skeptics of modern Christianity—and of modern evangelicalism in particular—sometimes condemn the children for the sins of the father. One of the challenges of Christ-followers today is to demonstrate that we are not oriented around power but around truth. In a representative republic like America we ought to speak out and argue for biblical morality, but our primary objective must be the declaration of the truth rather than the pursuit of power.

We can compete in the marketplace of ideas, as the church did in the first century, because the truth has a compelling attraction of its own. There is no need to dress it up, apologize for it, or infuse it with politically correct jargon. Theological liberalism attempts to shape the message of scripture after the culture of the day. Such efforts succeed in making the message irrelevant, since it only echoes the culture and does not reflect the unique worldview found in the teachings of Christ. Evangelical accommodation can make the same mistake. It can give the farm away in smaller pieces, but in the end, there is nothing left.

Paul understood this temptation. He wrote, “We preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” (See 1 Corinthians 1:23.) The biblical message is true, though it contains much that people from any culture can object to. It’s blunt about issues like sin, personal responsibility, the call to holiness, and the summons to supreme loyalty to Christ. But he continued to share the unvarnished truth around the Mediterranean to all who would listen.

If the truth of the New Testament message is what Jesus called it to be, we don’t need to reformulate it to make it impactful. To share it with love and live it with integrity is all that is called for.

The modern evangelical community constantly looks for new methods that will help it spread the news of Christ to the world in which we live. Christians purchase popular books that promise to offer surefire methods for effective evangelism. Today’s trend includes such titles as Sticky Church, Comeback Churches, Extreme Church Makeover, Ignite: How to Spark Immediate Growth in Your Church, and Becoming Your Favorite Church.

These books no doubt offer wisdom and insight about how the church can be an effective tool for God in the 21^st century. As someone determined to learn from others, I have read titles in this category and will continue to do so. They often present creative ways in which we can take the first century message and share it with the world in which we live.

But the popularity of these books suggests that the key to the future is largely dependent on a methodology. If we follow a formula, or adopt an approach, or incorporate a specific way of thinking, we can come closer to the ideal that Jesus has for us. Even when such books advocate spiritual reformation and significant investments in the pursuit of maturity, such counsel is often overshadowed by the search for the magic bullet that will make our efforts immediately successful.

It makes me wonder what we might discover if we look back into the actions of the early church. In Acts chapter 11, the core of the church consists of the Jews from Jerusalem who trusted in Christ, and others who scattered from there following the persecution that broke out after the stoning of Stephen. Their initial efforts targeted only fellow Jews who live in the cities of the Roman Empire to which they traveled. (See Acts 11:19.) But then something new happened. God inspired Christ followers to share the message outside of the Jewish community. He used angelic messengers to shatter Peter’s paradigms and personally involve him with bringing the good news of Christ to a Gentile community (Cornelius and his friends). Whether inspired by Peter’s actions, or acting on an impulse of their own, some of the Jewish converts begin sharing the message directly with Gentiles. (See Acts 11:20.)

The Bible does not go into great detail about how this happened. It summarizes the initiative by recording, “The Lord’s hand was with them, and a great number of people believed and turned to the Lord.” (See Acts 11:21.) It’s amazing that Luke’s record does not focus on how this took place. The accumulated impact of many unnamed efforts began to reshape communities. We don’t know if the evangelism focused on community leaders, trade guilds, or slaves. We are not told if the key players were primarily tradesmen, families, or teams of evangelists.

The silence on issues that we would have considered critical reminds us that the central player in the drama of church growth is always God. He was “with them” according to Luke. And as a result a “great number” of people reoriented their life around Christ. This suggests that if we live our lives in such a way that God is “with us”, he may bless whatever moral methods we choose to use. The power is not in the techniques, but in the Lord who engages the hearts and minds of people. That reality forces us to abandon the notion that we are in charge of church growth, and acknowledge that God is sovereign over his church. We can draw crowds, but only God can transform hearts. Our search for the most effective methods is perhaps a reflection of our mistaken idea that we control the process rather than God. In the end, that assumption may be the most difficult to overcome.

Water has amazing capabilities. Wave action can change the shape of a coastline over time. A stream can etch its path through the hardest rock. Under pressure it can cut fabric or blast through a variety of substances. Water can act as a solvent. Or it can revitalize a human body under stress. Its properties make it useful in thousands of applications. But its properties can also lead to frustration.

In a construction project at our worship center, we’ve discovered that water can act in annoying ways. Somehow it has found a way to penetrate newly poured, sealed walls, and go where we don’t want it. Remedial sealants have failed to rectify the situation. Somehow the water has found its way through all the barriers that have been put into place. So we’re cutting a hole in a new concrete floor to install a pump to collect the water and send it outside.

In our lives, there is an invisible substance that acts like that water. It’s called sin. When we seek to contain it, sin somehow finds its way around the barriers we set up and runs across the floors of our lives. Things get wet that should stay dry—spiritually speaking. And we can spend lots of time and energy mopping up the mess. But if all we do is build new barriers against the water of sin, we will probably spend more time with a mop and bucket dealing with future issues.

Like water, sin resists the tactic of containment. We sometimes hide unholy motives and conceal ungodly affections behind our outward appearance. In doing so, we hope that the hidden appetites and values won’t leak out into our lives where they might be an embarrassment to us. We try to manage sin so that it does not embarrass us. Most of us can think of times when we thought we had something under control, but in a horrible moment our secret became known, and our inner failure was exposed. It does not have to be as radical as the prophet Nathan exposing David’s adultery and planned murder of Uriah, but it can be just as humiliating.

Proverbs 28:13 states, “He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.” The only way we can fix our physical water issue is to remove it from the scene. God gives us a spiritual pump that operates in a similar way. It’s the mechanism of repentance. When we acknowledge our wrongdoing before God and confess it to him, he offers us forgiveness. The good news about God’s remedy is that the pump Christ uses to remove our sin is more powerful than any kind of messy fluid we can produce. It’s powerful enough to suck that substance out of our life and replace it with forgiveness and mercy. (See 1 John 1:9.)

The challenge we face is not tied to Christ’s ability, but to our pride. We want to try every kind of remedy we can think of first. We stubbornly hold on to the notion that we can find a solution ourselves that will be the permanent fix we hunger for. We try harder. We make resolutions. We take precautions. All such efforts have value, but they do not give us the kind of pardon and freedom that our souls hunger for. Until we take our issues to the master architect, we will remain stuck in the process of managing our sin and trying to minimize its negative consequences.

Regular reflection and confession goes against our natural inclinations. But it is the only way we can begin to find freedom from the damage sin will cause when we choose to tolerate it rather than deal with it boldly. Cutting a hole in a new concrete floor is a radical step. It seems like a waste. But when it’s the only way to deal with the cause of the issue, it’s the smart thing to do. Likewise, dealing with our inner failures—rather than excusing them or attempting to manage them—is the best way to live free from the ongoing consequences that follow when we tolerate inner evil rather than confront it.

Our culture tends to reinforce caution. We are persuaded that by taking precautions ourselves and relying on the actions of the government, we can take most of the bumps out of life. If we are careful and wise, we can make it through life without encountering any gut-wrenching experiences. We sometimes don’t mind taking risks on our terms, but we don’t want unexpected factors to ambush our lives and challenges us in ways we don’t anticipate.

And when we have God on our side, these cultural expectations become stronger. If we can only figure out His perfect path through the maze of life, we can navigate from now to the end of our days without a scratch or bruise. Walking with God will guarantee a life free from affliction, adversity, and frightening challenges.

Though the sentiment reflected in the previous paragraph resonates with many Christians today, it is not biblical. When you look at the accounts in scripture where people live their lives with a growing intimacy with the living God, you discover that safety and tranquility are often missing. God never promises a life of earthly comfort for those who seek to trust him and follow him. He promises blessing, but not in the terms we often attribute to that act.

For example, consider Esther. She is inducted into the harem of Xerxes. One of his advisors tricks the king to issue an edit allowing for the annihilation of the Jews. Xerxes is unaware that Esther is Jewish. Her only hope is to approach the king and disclose the plot. But approaching the king without an invitation can bring death.

Esther recoils at the challenge, but her cousin tells her, “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4.13-14)

There was no promise that her attempt to intervene would be fruitful. No angel told her that everything would turn out fine. No prophet spoke into her situation. She had a difficult choice with huge consequences and was challenged to put her life on the line.

Walking with the God of the Bible is an adventure. It takes us places where we would never choose to go on our own. It is filled with change, challenge, and even danger. Those who seek tranquility in some kind of mystical search for God’s will presume their lives will be different from many who appear in the Bible.

Pursuing God does not lead us to a place of earthly safety. It leads us to a place of trust, holiness, and transformation. That journey will involve serious risk and daring. But when God puts us in such places, he reminds us that self-reliance and self-sufficiency are foolish approaches to life. Depending on him is the only wise way to face life in all of its challenges and to grow in our relationship to him.