God and the heavens (3)

Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens. Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast. By your appointment they stand this day, for all things are your servants.

  - Psalm 119:89-91

Since God made the heavens for a purpose, and He continues to uphold and sustain them for a purpose, it's not a stretch to conclude that the heavens and everything in them must in some sense be servants of God.

Not a stretch to conclude that perhaps, but understanding it can be a little challenging.

The heavens serve the Lord. They do His bidding and accomplish His pleasure.

The heavens serve the Lord by declaring His glory to human beings. The glory of God is just the presence of God, realized. The glory of God pervades and contains the cosmos at the same time. God is everywhere present throughout the heavens, and the heavens exist within Him. So the heavens bear witness to the reality of God. They teach us that He exists and they tell us something about what He is like.

This is what all God's servants do. Think of a minister, for example. His job is to declare that God exists and to tell us what He's like so that we might know, fear, love, serve, and obey Him. The heavens do the same thing. Only without words.

Which is a real drawback, for unless someone employs words to describe the nature, purpose, and functioning of the heavens as God's servants, God's glory is not likely to be known. Human beings know that God is speaking through the things He has made. Most of them simply choose not to pay attention (Rom. 1.18-21). Worse, refusing to see God in the heavens, as the heavens faithfully bear witness to Him, they apply their own words to the heavenly bodies and describe them as being something other than what they are and existing for some purpose other than to glorify God.

So rather than ponder the mystery of how the heavens serve the good purposes of God, science actually uses the heavens against the idea of God and on behalf of merely human projects.

The heavens still serve God, and God still sustains and upholds them. But we short-circuit our ability to know and enjoy the heavens - as God intends - when we try to wrest them from His ownership, purposes, and control and treat them as if they are some kind of self-existing entity to be studied, used, and perhaps even adored in their own right.

This is a wrong path for scientific study, but the scientists who are on the path will not see the bridge out until it's too late. Some of us need to join them in their misguided journey of misunderstanding and gradually, lovingly, but uncompromisingly help them to see that our study and use of the heavens can only bear maximum fruit when we pursue them for the knowledge of God and the purposes of His glory.

That's how the heavens are meant to serve God. And that's how we're meant to serve Him as well.

God made the heavens and He keeps them in place.

Why are the heavens so vast?

Princeton ethicist Peter Singer wonders whether the time is approaching when it may be possible to solve at least some of our moral problems by popping a pill.

Writing in the Opinionater blog at The New York Times, Dr. Singer asks, “If continuing brain research does in fact show biochemical differences between the brains of those who help others and the brains of those who do not, could this lead to a ‘morality pill’ — a drug that makes us more likely to help?”

Previous generations turned to the frontal lobotomy to control anti-social behavior – the premise behind the Jack Nicholson film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, of some years back. But if it is possible to identify differences in the brains of those who act helpfully, let us say, and those who do not, then might we not prescribe for the latter some “brain supplement” that will make his brain function more like the “moral” person?

Dr. Singer insists, “Given the many other studies linking biochemical conditions to mood and behavior, and the proliferation of drugs to modify them that have followed, the idea is not far-fetched.” He is doubtless correct. But he wonders whether or not people would “choose to take” such a pill were it available. But what if they had no choice? What if a court or other government agency required it, in order to help miscreants and ne’er-do-wells make a more positive contribution to society?

Dr. Singer rightly understands that such a possibility calls into question the role of human free will. But he is not troubled by this, because he believes that whether or not such a pill is available or prescribed or used, it will only serve to bring our brains more into line with societally-accepted notions of goodness and, hence, of freedom from bad choices – “free” will. He concludes, “whether or not we have free will, we may soon face new choices about the ways in which we are willing to influence behavior for the better.”

The problem is with that last word – “better.” “Better” on whose terms? Who would decide the criteria of ethical acceptability by which a “normal” brain – and, hence, “free will” – would be defined? And what criteria would be employed to make such determinations?

We’re not so far away from having to deal with these questions, and given the increasing antipathy of secular science – in particular, neuroscience – toward all things religious, together with the increasing involvement of government in matters of health care and medicine, this is a question Christians working in the arenas of ethics and science should be addressing right now.

Or before we know it, we could all be living in a potential cuckoo’s nest, with somebody else deciding what “free will” and “ethics” mean in our case.

Marcelo Gleiser is concerned that not enough people are interested in science.

Writing on his blog at the NPR website, Mr. Gleiser ask, "Why Should You Care About Science?" and then, of course, proceeds to offer an explanation.

He allows that it would be "unrealisitc to expect that the whole population of the United States would be interested in the latest scientific advancements." However, he is alarmed at "the level of disconnect between the science people use and the science they know." Science has an enormous impact on culture, and, hence, on our lives. If only for this reason, you'd think more people would pay attention to it.

He explains that science itself is in part to blame, but not intentionally. Science has become more complex and abstract than it was in previous generations, requiring more sophisticated kinds of thinking and equipment, and these are beyond the reach of most people. "So," Mr. Gleiser explains, "there is a growing distance between most people and the way objects of interest to scientists are seen and studied, and how the results from the various observations are interpreted."

He could be right about this. Well, I'm pretty sure he's right; however, I don't think this is the only reason why more people don't keep up with what's going on in the sciences.

Consider: Who of us likes to be in a group of know-it-alls who delight to brandish their knowledge and put on airs of superiority toward others? A lot of science writing comes off like this to me - arrogant, condescending, and oh-so-absolutely-certain. There's no room for us outsiders to do anything but nod in agreement and, I suppose, genuflect.

I don't say this is a conscious attitude on the part of scientists or science writers, but it's there. Here's is how, for example, Mr. Gleiser expresses his frustratiion with those who just don't get it: "Perhaps this is why, some time ago, a reader told me that, to him, believing in an abstract God or in a claim that the universe is 13.7 billion years old was not so different. And yet, these two couldn't be more different! The same sort of difficulty arises when people doubt what scientists have to say about global warming. Without a concrete, tangible in-your-face evidence, people find it much harder to 'believe,' even though global warming, as any other scientific claim, has nothing to do with belief."

"Nothing to do with belief"? Come on. Science is all about believing things without being able to prove them. I'd like to see Mr. Gleiser prove that last statement. Science is founded on certain unprovable assumptions, and the really inconvenient thing for secular scientists is that those assumptions are not inherent in their own naturalistic, randomized worldview. They derive from the Christian worldview within which the modern scientific endeavor had its beginnings.

Science depends on faith as much as, well, faith depends on faith. The scientist who will not admit that is simply unwilling - or perhaps, unable? - to engage in a discussion of the foundational beliefs of science.

This unwillingness to be honest about the real nature of science is as offputting to me in science writers as any of the difficulty I may have in trying to understand the substance of their reports.

A little more humility - and honesty - on the part of secular science writers might make for more dialog with the unwashed masses like myself who really are interested in science but who do not enjoy interacting with bores.

So with 2011 in the history books, what can we expect in 2012? 

This is the age of rapid discoveries and it seems certain that this 21^st century will deliver incomprehensible advances in medicine, energy, physics, engineering, biotechnology, agriculture, artificial intelligence, cosmology, as well as outer and inner space exploration - all accelerated by ever increasing computing powers. 

So what is right around the corner of discovery in 2012? If only I knew. But I feel like it is Christmas Eve and I just can’t wait to see what is under the 2012 tree of discovery.

Personally, I look forward to hearing more about the discoveries from the CERN project and the elusive Higgs Boson particle as the possible basis for all matter. Physicists should also be revealing more details of the Big Bang and origins of our universe. I am also really anxious to see what insights are brought forth relative to the origins of DNA/RNA and the complexities of life’s proteins. And, let’s not forget about possible evidence of extraterrestrial life. Will we find such evidence? If so what are the implications? 

I just can’t wait. I say, bring it on.           

Wherever scientific discovery takes us in this New Year, let us not lose our perspective on how we came to be and perhaps more importantly, WHY we came to be. As I’ve said many times before, this universe is not accidental, and not one of us is reading this blog or walking this earth by accident – not one of us! So of all the discoveries of 2012, I think the most important for each one of us will be the discovery of why we exist. By December 31^st of this year, I challenge us all unequivocally to give an answer to this all-important question.

Join me throughout the year as we explore the ramifications and implications of scientific discoveries relative to our faith in an omnipotent, omniscient, and immutable creator God. Will any discoveries shake or challenge our faith? Will they affirm our faith? I suppose it all depends on our perspective as to how we got here and why. Let us pledge honesty and an openness of heart and mind as we explore the treasures of 2012.

Finally, let us accept this year of discovery as a gift and embrace it as such.         

Inference has played a role in the work of science from the beginning.

A scientist observes various phenomena and infers a relationship between them. He then establishes a series of tests or experiments in an effort to create conditions which reproduce his observations at some level, thus, hopefully, demonstrating the validity of his inferences and establishing what we might refer to as a scientific truth.

Inference works because scientists can observe and manipulate material phenomena and processes – or their numerical proxies – to achieve measurable results. But what if we cannot actually observe a phenomenon? What if we can only observe certain effects? How can we infer either the cause of those effects or how that unobservable cause might affect other phenomena, without actually being able to observe or manipulate that unobservable cause?

I’m thinking, of course, of black holes and dark matter. Scientists can observe neither, and their attempts to define them are merely guesses, at least for the present. How, after all, can we define something we can neither observe nor manipulate? As reported at The Daily Galaxy recently, “Black holes cannot be seen directly, but their influence on nearby stars is visible, and provides a signature…”

We see the “signature,” but not the hand that signs it. However, since the scientific community is committed to the idea of a purely materialistic cosmos, they assume that the hand which produces the “signature” must be some form of matter. Hence, “dark” matter and “black holes.”

“What’s inside a black hole is one of the biggest mysteries in physics,” The Daily Galaxy continues. That only makes sense. Since we don’t really know what a black hole is, we would expect knowing what’s inside one to be a “mystery.” But that sounds more like the language of faith than of science.

“Mysteries abound” reports The Daily Galaxy. To be sure. “Many researchers have offered theories of how supermassive black holes might have formed, but there is no consensus.” Since we don’t really know what they are, or what’s inside them – or whether there even is an “inside” to them – it’s hard to imagine anything like a consensus existing on how they were formed.

For something we really can’t define, filled with stuff that remains a mystery, scientists express a good deal of confidence about “black holes.” They now posit that “most, if not all, of the universe’s hundreds of billions of galaxies have supermassive black holes at their core.” That, without ever having seen a black hole or even being able to explain what one is. All scientists can see are influences. From those influences they infer some form of matter, because matter is what they believe in.

But what if the influence scientists are observing is coming from something other than dark matter and black holes? What if those signatures are being signed by something beyond or outside the realm of mere matter?

The anti-supernatural bias of the scientific community will not allow its members to embrace such a notion, much less pursue it, whether by research or additional speculation. All the attempts to understand black holes and dark matter from a materialistic perspective have accomplished little more than closer observation and cataloging of the effects – the influence – of these phenomena. No one really knows what they are or even, on the basis of the methods of science alone, whether they really exist.

That something exists out there seems pretty clear. Is there an explanation for the presence of a powerful, unseen influence, existing throughout the cosmos, that resolves this question in something other than a materialistic way?

If there is, it will not be discovered by the methods of materialistic science, but by the methods of faith. But materialistic science is no stranger to faith. Just as the faith of materialistic science insists that these phenomena can only be some as-yet-unknown form of matter (hence, “dark” matter or “anti-matter”), so the faith of one who considers the cosmos from more than a naturalistic perspective – from the perspective of a supernaturalist – might give rise to different faith-based inferences about such powerfully influential phenomena. Would such inferences be any less valid than those of materialist science?

I know of no such inferences being proposed as yet; however, since, as I understand, a good many Christians are at work in the fields of physics and cosmology, perhaps such an explanation – an inference regarding certain influences that allows for spiritual presence disbursed throughout the cosmos – may be forthcoming at some point.

We’ll see.

Yep. Sorry to report nothing has changed in this category.

And now science is weighing in to fix this conclusion even more firmly – as if it needed fixing.

According to Keith Kleiner, writing on the Gravity and Levity website, statistics continue to lead to the conclusion that all human beings are going to die and that the older we get, the more certain death becomes.

We can deny it all we want, kick against it with the fury of a Camus, or act like it’s no big deal, but death is still the elephant in the room for every one of us.

The reason for this, explains Mr. Kleiner, is that our bodies are meant to die: “By looking at theories of human mortality that are clearly wrong, we can deduce that our fast-rising mortality is not the result of a dangerous environment, but of a body that has a built-in expiration date.”

Like all material things, bodies break down and wear out. No amount of our medicating, exercising, or implant-chipping them is going to change that. According to Mr. Kleiner, we are created to die, so get over it.

Well, not so fast. Mr. Kleiner is certainly looking for more. He hopes that one day “some brilliant biologist” will be able to give us “real insight into why we age the way we do.” Then, at least, we can die knowing why. That should be comforting.

I beg to differ with Mr. Kleiner’s otherwise very interesting article in two points. First, biologists will not be able to discover why we age and die. Certainly they will observe and isolate processes and variables that change and decay over time, and then they’ll have to explain those, and then the explanations behind those. But in a purely materialistic worldview, it can only ever be turtles all the way down, ad infinitum, and that doesn’t provide any real ultimate explanations.

Scripture teaches that we die because of sin: “The wages of sin is death.” Biology will never be able to isolate and measure that. It’s an article of faith, just as the belief that there is no such thing as sin is itself an article of faith. But the Christian view provides a cogent explanation for death, not to mention a great many other things as well.

Second, the human body was not created to die. It was created to live forever, glorified and in the presence of the glorious God of heaven and earth. It is indeed appointed to every human being (most of us, anyway) to die physically. But they who know Christ and trust in Him look forward to being clothed with immortality, in new, decay- and death-proof bodies, where neither worm nor rust nor faltering health will be able to lay us low.

The materialist can only contemplate death and shrug (and, for most of them, fear, Heb. 2:15).

The Christian looks at death, nods, and looks beyond it to a glorious new and eternal beginning, without death, and without the curse that makes death a scourge for every living creature.

The Christian way is the way of hope and contentment.

The materialist way is the way of, Oh well.

We have a message of hope to proclaim to a dying world. Let’s not allow secular science to have the last word on so important a subject as this.

The vulnerability of the scientific method

If we don’t want science to be corrupted by sin, we need something to check the power of sin.

The method of scientific discovery is frequently presented as reliable for discerning truth because it follows strictly objective protocols and procedures. Science gives us the truth about the world because its method is virtually foolproof.

Except, of course, when it is taken up by outright fools. Lots of folks, over the years, have appealed to the methods of science to “prove” their pet theories, only to have their folly exposed and their contribution erased. It seems the scientific method may be rather more pliable than some would have us think.

This is especially true when the methods of science are applied in the realm of the social sciences. Andrew Ferguson reported in The Weekly Standard on one Dutch social scientist whose experiments, studies, and conclusions are so corrupted by bias and deceit that his entire corpus of work is now being called into question.

Writing in the December 5, 2011 issue, Mr. Ferguson explained what he refers to as “the chump effect,” which he defines as “the eagerness of laymen and journalists to swallow whole the claims made by social scientists. Entire journalistic enterprises, whole books from cover to cover, would simply collapse into dust if even a smidgen of skepticism were summoned whenever we read that ‘scientists say’ or ‘a new study finds’ or ‘research shows’ or ‘data suggest.’” He explains that “Most such claims of social science, we would soon find, fall into one of three categories: the trivial, the dubious, or the flatly untrue.”

It is this last category that, according to Mr. Ferguson, describes the work of Dutch psychologist Diederik Stapel. I won’t go into the details here. Suffice it to say that Mr. Ferguson ably demonstrates how bias, manipulation, and overweening pride can corrupt the practice of social science, leaving students and the public deceived on matters of important social concern.

Mr. Ferguson’s animus is particularly against the hubris of social scientists whose conclusions are frequently promulgated on the basis of minimal data and using non-repeatable studies and experiments. But in recent years we’ve seen enough playing with data (the UK environmental change brouhaha of a couple of years ago) and rushing to press (more and more retractions of published papers) within the “hard” sciences to know that the scientific method is at all times vulnerable to the biases of practitioners.

Science does quite well when it sticks to the data. It’s when it scientists seek to influence social or moral agendas that they can be tempted to violate the norms of legitimate scientific practice and try to pull one over on their colleagues and the world.

Evolutionary theorists may find it difficult to account for such behavior, since lying about the findings of scientific research is not likely to benefit the survival of the human species. Why do we do it? According to Robert Trivers, in his new book, The Folly of Fools, lying and deception are pervasive, and not just among human beings. All species seek to deceive in one way or another. Human beings are especially adept at deceiving ourselves.

The reason for this, Dr. Trivers explains, is because deceiving ourselves helps us to deceive others more effectively, which, in turn – somehow – conduces to the survival of our genes, which are the real culprits in all this lying and corrupting of science and everything else.

That’s gonna be a little hard to demonstrate under the microscope, methinks.

But Dr. Trivers is right: the lying and deceiving are everywhere. The Christian knows this is because of the presence and powerful effects of sin. If we don’t want science to be corrupted by sin, we need something to check the power of sin.

Hmmm. Any ideas?

On the proper starting-point for science

Science, it is important to keep in mind, is only a way of knowing. A pretty good way, to be sure, but not the only way.

Indeed, not only is science not the only way of knowing about the world and life, in some cases it may not even be the most reliable way of knowing. Especially if those who practice science as a way of knowing are not willing to admit that their method has some serious limitations.

Thanks to Jonah Lehrer for reminding us of this in the January, 2012, issue of Wired online. Mr. Lehrer reviews certain embarrassing failures of the scientific community, notably, in the production of new drugs over the past decade. He explains that researchers have been disappointed by thinking that all you have to do is keep reducing the human body down to its constituent parts, then describe the way those parts work, before developing drugs to fix just about anything.

But it turns out that the human system is just too complex for such reductionism, and drugs loudly trumpeted as cures for persistent conditions have been abandoned even before they reached the market.

And it’s not only in the development of new drugs that we’re being reminded of the limits of science. Mr. Lehrer explains, “There’s a fundamental mismatch between how the world works and how we think about the world.” Too often our preconceived notions about the way things ought to work simply turn out to be wrong. Mr. Lehrer notes, for example, that gene studies have also proven to work out other than what scientists predicted: “One study, for instance, analyzed 432 different claims of genetic links for various health risks that vary between men and women. Only one of these claims proved to be consistently replicable. Another meta review, meanwhile, looked at the 49 most-cited clinical research studies published between 1990 and 2003. Most of these were the culmination of years of careful work. Nevertheless, more than 40 percent of them were later shown to be either totally wrong or significantly incorrect.”

Mr. Lehrer summarizes, “The details always change, but the story remains the same: We think we understand how something works, how all those shards of fact fit together. But we don’t.”

The universe is much more mysterious than we think – or, at least, than certain members of the scientific community seem to think. The way scientists approach trying to understand the universe is defined by their “causal beliefs.” If those beliefs about what causes what under which conditions are wrong, then we’re going to get a lot wrong conclusions along the way in our studies: “For too long, we’ve pretend that the old problem of causality can be cured by our shiny new knowledge. If only we devote more resources to research or dissect the system at a more fundamental level or search for ever more subtle correlations, we can discover how it all works.”

But it doesn’t work out that way, because the universe is simply more complex – by far – than our finite minds can fathom. When it comes to understanding the world, Mr. Lehrer suggests that the place to begin in our thinking is by remembering that “It’s mystery all the way down.”

Which is precisely what God reminded Job when he began to demand more knowledge than was appropriate for his human condition: God made the world. God makes it work. God is infinitely wiser, more powerful, and more mysterious than we can even imagine.

The starting-point for science, in other words, must not be a posture of being convinced that we are able to figure it all out, to know and explain everything, so that we can then manipulate whatever we want for whatever purpose we choose.

The proper starting-point for science is one of awe and faith before the all-knowing, all-sovereign, and all-present God. From there the way of knowing about the world and life in it can then proceed along available avenues, not just the lab.

We do not expect secular scientists to embrace such a view. They have their own faith convictions which determine how they will approach their work, as Jonah Lehrer makes clear.

But for Christians working in the sciences, a posture of worship and wonder before the Creator/God and His cosmos, in tandem with those who work in other disciplines, using other ways of knowing about the world, makes good sense – and good science.

Can’t we get on with some real science?

ABC News reported yesterday that 17% of scientists claiming to be atheists go to church, “although not too often, and not because they feel a spiritual yearning to join the faithful.”

A survey conducted by researchers at Rice University found that unbelieving scientists go to church not for themselves, but for their kids, and not because they think their kids need God, but just so they can “make up their own minds on what to believe.”

Researcher Elaine Howard Ecklund explained that some of the scientists who take their kids to church “actually see it as part of their scientific identity…They want to teach their children to be free thinkers, to give them religious choices, and so they take their children to religious organizations just to give them exposure to religion.”

Now it would be easy to smirk and snort over such a thing, thinking – if not actually muttering under our breath – “Hypocrites!” That would be easy.

I prefer to applaud such open-mindedness and to take it as an indicator that the wall between religion and science is perhaps a bit more porous than some of us might think.

It is a characteristic of a scientific mind to be open to possibilities not yet known or experienced. The scientist who has simply written off religion is not acting in a very scientific manner. The one who takes his kids to church so that they can have all the information they need to make up their own minds about such questions is acting out of a true scientific frame of reference.

Now if we could just see more of that mindset when it comes to introducing religious perspectives into the work of science.

Just because a secular scientist has not yet experienced spiritual reality doesn’t mean such realities don’t exist. But if he rules them out on the basis of his own experience, and that of other trusted colleagues, how does he account for the fact that many scientists confess to regularly experiencing such phenomena, and that such phenomena affect the way they do their work?

A scientific mind would be open to discussing that, I would think. Surely if an unbelieving scientist wants his children to think about such matters, he might be more open than we think – given the right conditions and conversation partner – to considering them for himself?

Christians who work in the sciences bear the burden for pursuing this question within their disciplines and among their colleagues. If they do, they may be surprised to discover other scientists – perhaps even some atheists – who are willing to engage in serious conversation about beings and experiences, the reality of which their discipline and methods are ill-suited to resolve.

Today I’m going to take the day off from posting about faith or science and talk about how we should argue about these topics online.

The ways we think and act in situations are deeply influenced by the metaphors we use to describe those situations. It is no wonder that the Scriptures use a rich variety of metaphors to help us understand life in Christ (including, of course, the metaphor of biological life itself).

This fact of life matters for the way we disagree online. As George Lakoff and Mark Johnson describe in their book Metaphors We Live By, a dominant metaphor in our culture for argument is competition: sports or battles. (We take and lose ground, score points, etc.) This isn’t entirely bad; war metaphors can underline the seriousness of the contention, for instance, or the need for effort and readiness (just look at Eph. 6). But I think it’s easy to let these metaphors get the best of us by keeping us from arguing effectively and (far more important) loving those with whom we argue.

So I’d like to propose that we think about our arguments less as competitions and more as gardening: planting and watering seeds while praying they will bear fruit. Competitions bring immediate results. Sports are attention-grabbing, and bring glory to the victor. Battles are won by a killing stroke that destroys the enemy. But gardening is long-term: we may never know how God will use our words in someone’s future. Planting is a quiet, unassuming endeavor: the farmer must trust God. And we water, but God makes life grow.

In my own life, I’ve very rarely had my mind changed by a forceful argument made by an aggressive stranger on the Internet. But the deepest and longest-lasting changes, the ones that move not just my head but my affections, have come about not through a sudden clang of words hit against each other. They have come through careful, charitable, winsome arguments made repeatedly by people who didn’t seek to press battered opponents and destroy their pride, but instead simply planted an idea, and trusted God with the results.

So if you want to convince others – and if you want to love – think less like the characters of Inception and more like a sower of seeds. And pray to the Lord of the Harvest to bring thirty, sixty, or a hundred-fold results.

Grace and peace.

Tags: argument, metaphor

A Pattern for Christian Behavior (3)

It seems like something we shouldn’t have to say, but it’s an important part of the pattern for any Christian undertaking – whether in the sciences or any field of endeavor: We have to show up ready to work together. God is seeking to bring His glory into every area of life – all cultural and social arenas, every relationship, role, and responsibility. And He intends to accomplish this grand objective and further His Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven through us, His people. He has positioned us in Jesus Christ, with the hope of glory and the ability to know God in His glory, so that we might glorify Him and advance His Kingdom in everything we do.

But we must prepare carefully and work to establish a Kingdom presence at every stage of our endeavor, whatever it may be.

Christians prepare to seek the Kingdom of God through personal and professional study and education. From our study of God’s Word, research into the applications of that Word into our fields of endeavor, and conversations with believing colleagues, we should be identifying Kingdom objectives that will allow us to make progress toward the Kingdom outcomes we seek in all our undertakings for the Lord. Having specific Kingdom objectives for each activity in our work will enable us to achieve real collaboration and make meaningful progress together, thus bringing the glory of God to light through our efforts. At the same time, it will help to minimize any conflicts which may arise, since we’re working together toward agreed-upon short-term objectives consonant with the long-range Kingdom outcomes we seek.

This is as true for working in the various fields of the sciences as it is for any other calling in the Kingdom of God. We have to show up in order to contribute; but we need to show up ready to contribute from within our Kingdom framework and for the advancement of that framework, step by step, day by day. Otherwise our presence will do nothing more than contribute to non-Kingdom, worldly objectives, resulting in scandal.

So we add to our diagram as follows:

Christian education – like this website – gives us an opportunity to prepare for glorifying God. But only if we actually go forth, into every arena of our lives, determined to show the glory of God by what we say and do, only then will we actually show up and establish a presence of glory in our particular fields of endeavor. Like Israel, bringing the banners and presence of God into the land of Canaan, our efforts to make Christ known – in all His goodness, mercy, wisdom, kindness, and saving might – will not always be welcomed. But God has called us both to prepare and to show up, ready for the struggle, determined to shine the light of Christ and His glory into every area of our lives, incrementally and consistently in all we do.

Many different arguments have been made against Christianity and other religions because of evil. It’s understandable; just think of atrocities like the murder of youths in Norway last summer (recently in the news again as their killer has been declared insane). And smaller, everyday kinds of evils are also disturbing (of course, part of the horror of things like murder is precisely that they happen every day).

The best of these arguments focus on evil that purportedly lacks a morally sufficient reason. For God might well allow evils whenever He has good reason to do so, but it’s hard to see how a good God could allow gratuitous evil.

So the basic argument (offered in its most sophisticated form by atheistic philosophers like William Rowe) is this:

1. There are some evils for which we can find no morally sufficient reason.
2. Therefore, there is likely no morally sufficient reason for these evils.
3. If God existed, He would not allow evils without a morally sufficient reason.
4. Therefore, God probably doesn’t exist.

There are a few problems with this argument. I’ll focus on the move from 1 to 2. Why think that our lack of ability to find such reasons means they don’t exist?

Sometimes, of course, when we can’t find something, that’s a very good reason to think it doesn’t exist. We are designed to be pretty good at seeing middle-sized objects like buses or St. Bernards right in front of us.[1] Other things we’re not so good at: the detailed structure of big, complex situations that we can’t personally do much about, like the weather. Or like God’s reasons for making the world.

We just have no reason to think our natural abilities are that good at seeing things. How could a person whose life is determined by a squishy, small pile of grey matter approach the skill required to know about the total picture of a universe this complex—and which includes, of course, the squishy bits of matter without we couldn’t think? We can often sense good and evil in particular situations, but the larger framework of which they are a part is beyond our ken. So good reasons that rely on the complex interworking of creation—the sorts that would probably be most on God’s mind when deciding what to create—aren’t the sort of thing we could see. We can’t even see in the dark!

And the history of salvation supports the idea that we aren’t good at telling God’s plans and reasons. Who would have guessed that God would reveal Himself to a particular tribe, or decide to fulfill His promises to them by becoming incarnate, or use controversies about the person of Christ to produce the great creeds? Yet all this happened, despite the fact that people likely couldn’t tell at the time why things were unfolding the way they were.

So we shouldn’t place much confidence in our ability to tell exactly how all things are working together for good. We’re not so good at figuring out the “all things” that such knowledge would require. And this means it isn’t at all surprising that there are evil things for which we can’t see a morally sufficient reason.

It would be surprising if things were any different.

Tags: evil, skeptical theism