Thinking about God and Morality

Do we really need God to maintain a sense of morality? Christians say yes, and secularists say no. If you'd like to take a peek at a fine discussion between the two sides, consider this debate between John Frame and Paul Kurtz...

[John Frame:] If God goes not exist, says Dostoyevsky's Ivan Karamazov, "everything is permitted," which is one way of saying that notions of good and evil lose their force when people cease to acknowledge God. The course of our society suggests he's right: we've grown noticeably more secular over the past thirty years, banning God from public education and the marketplace of ideas, and our culture's moral tone has declined. Is this merely historical coincidence, or is there a profound relationship between ethics and belief in God?

Moral values are rather strange. We cannot see them, hear them, or feel them, but we cannot doubt they exist. A witness to a crime sees the criminal and the victim, but what is perhaps most important remains invisible – the moral evil of the act. Yet evil is unquestionably there, just as moral good is unquestionably present when a traveler stops to help the stranded motorist on a dangerous stretch of highway. Good and bad are unseen but real, much as God is said to be. Does that suggest a close tie between two mysteries, moral values and God?

Before answering that question, let me make a few clarifications. The highest moral and ethical values are absolute. Anyone who thinks it sufficient to have merely relative standards, based on what individuals or groups feel is right, won't see a connection between God and morality. Of course, some rules are relative to situations. In some countries we drive on the right, in others on the left. But relative standards alone simply won't do. Fundamental moral principles – don't murder, don't steal, and so on – must be objective, binding on all, regardless of private opinions or emotions.

If someone robs you, your outrage is not merely a feeling, like feeling hot or feeling sad. Nor is it merely an opinion generally accepted within your society, as if a society of thieves could legitimately have a different opinion. Rather, you recognize that the thief has done something objectively wrong, something that no one should ever do, regardless of how he feels or society thinks.

A second clarification: If I say that ethics requires God, I do not mean that atheists and agnostics never recognize moral standards. Even the Bible recognizes that they do (Romans 1:32). Indeed some say they believe in absolute principles, though that, of course, is rare. I contend, rather, that an atheist or agnostic is not able to give an adequate reason for believing in absolute moral principles. And when people accept moral principles without good reason, they hold to them somewhat more loosely than others who accept them upon a rational basis. Nor do I wish to suggest that people who believe in God are morally perfect. Scripture tells us that isn't so (1 John 1:8-10). The demons are monotheists (James 2:19), but belief in the one God doesn't improve their morals. Something more is needed to become good, and that, according to the Bible, is a new heart, given by God's grace in Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17, Ephesians 2:8-10).

Why then should we believe that morality depends on God? To say God exists is to say that the world is created and controlled by a person – one who thinks, speaks, acts rationally, loves and judges the world. To deny that God exists is to say that the world owes its ultimate origin and direction to impersonal objects or forces, such as matter, motion, time, and chance. But impersonal objects and forces cannot justify ethical obligations. A study of matter, motion, time, and chance will tell you what is up to a point, but it will not tell you what you ought to do. An impersonal universe imposes no absolute obligations.

But if this is God's world, a personal universe, then we do have reason to believe in absolute moral principles. For one thing, as Immanuel Kant pointed out, we need an omnipotent God to enforce moral standards, to make sure that everyone is properly rewarded and punished. Moral standards without moral sanctions don't mean much. More important, we should consider the very nature of moral obligation. We cannot be obligated to atoms, or gravity, or evolution, or time, or chance; we can be obligated only to persons. Indeed, we typically learn morality from our parents, and we stick to our standards at least partly out of loyalty to those we love. An absolute standard, one without exceptions, one that binds everybody, must be based on loyalty to a person great enough to deserve such respect. Only God meets that description.

As always, I'd encourage you to read the whole thing. (inluding Kurtz's position, along with rebuttals by each). Then (and only then), I'd really like to hear from someone who finds Kurtz' argument compelling.

My own experience has been that while very many people embrace Kurtz' position (rejecting Frame's), very few of them can actually give any sustained rationale for it (which is precisely Frame's critique). I'd love to hear from someone who thinks they can...

The Essence of Eternity

Friend and thinker Art Boulet has penned a great post on the essence of eternity...

[In] Ecclesiastes, the author writes, “[Yahweh] has put eternity in man’s heart.”

“Eternity” is an interesting concept throughout the history of Scripture and philosophy. Perhaps when we think about “eternity” we simply think about a large amount of time that spans infinitely backward into the past and infinitely forward into the future. But there is a distinction to be made between our concept of “time” and our concept of “eternity.” As Herman Bavinck points out, the distinction is not simply quantity and degree, but quality and essence.

The quality and essence of what “time” actually is originated with the fall; with man becoming enemies with their creator and, as a result, perverting the ideal in which they were created. “Eternity” is what we were created for; an entirely different quality and essence of living; a quality and essence which is still within our hearts; a quality and essence for which we all long.

We try to fill the void of this longing in different ways. N.T. Wright points out, we all long for beauty, for spirituality, for relationships, and for justice. These are good concepts, but by themselves will never satisfy the lust for “eternity” which God has imbedded within our hearts. As St. Augustine writes elsewhere in his Confessions, “wherever the human soul turns itself, other than you, it is fixed in sorrows, even if it is fixed upon beautiful things external to you and external to itself, which would nevertheless be nothing if they did not have their being from you.”

The only satisfying resting place for our lust for “eternity” is the gracious arms of our Redeemer.

I'd encourage you to go read the whole thing. Well said, Art!

all part of the process...

so, we haven't posted anything recently, but i'm realizing that is all part of the process. what do i mean by "process", you ask? well this whole fund-raising thing has really gotten me thinking.* (christian posted, "why fund-raising is beautiful" over at our project website if you're interested.) but i have to fill you in on some of the story first...

at the end of may, rachel and i moved in with her folks in south dakota. her parents have been a big help with the kids and with keeping costs down. however, it has been a struggle. there are now 4 people with an opinion on how to raise our boys. there are now 3 people who see my sin on a daily basis (and let me know about it). moreover, we are tempted more than ever to think, "if only we can get through this fund-raising process, then..." if only. if only.

for the past three years, we plowed our way through seminary. we spent all three years thinking, "if only we can get through seminary, then..." well here we are - on the other side, and life is just as busy, just as challenging, and i'm just as tired as i was when i was staying up half the night studying - maybe more so since now i'm up multiple times during the night with the baby.

lest this post feel like nothing more than a rant, i'll get back to the point. all of this is part of the process - and process is good. we've had the chance this summer to live in a little mini community at the in-law's house. this is what we want in missoula - to really know other people. to rub shoulders with people daily to the point of seeing their weaknesses and letting them see ours and being able to help each other grow. fund-raising hasn't been easy, but it has been a process that is teaching us to value the most important commodity we have on this earth - i'm not talking about money; i'm talking about other people. relationships are the only thing we can take with us from this earth. rachel and i have been learning the value of them.

where does the lord have you in process today? are you trying to resist it? do you, like us, find yourself saying "if only..., then..." most likely, whatever it is that you are saying that about is actually god's grace to you right now. it is the refining fire that he has ordained to point out the impurities in your life so he can burn them away. it is such a paradox though - learning to embrace god's process is a process in itself! press on.

*just as an fyi...we are currently at 75% of what we need to raise! This means we are below $1000/month which is an emotional marker. Unfortunately, we still can't even think about looking for housing until we hit at least 80%. So, please pray for us. And if you're feeling generous, click here to learn how you can get involved.

a year ago today...

some of you may remember reading about our son joshua last year. well, it was exactly one year ago today that we watched him be born. you can read about that starting here (then here, next here, and then jump ahead in the story to here - these should at least fill you in).

i wanted to take a moment today to honor the son i'll never know. i'll never have the chance to help him bait a hook or wait patiently for that first deer to emerge from the trees. i'll never get to read stories, pray and tuck him in at night. i'll never see him do a lot of things - but i will see him again. in fact, i'll get to see him without a lot of things. without the baggage of this difficult life. without the roughness and toughness that the pain of life brings.

i'm sad today as i reflect on a full year since joshua's birth. i can't believe we have been blessed with another son, just 3 weeks ago. Asher will never know his brother joshua. tomorrow we'll be placing joshua's ashes in the earth under a beautiful tree on our south dakota paradise. we'll also be baptizing Asher and thus is the irony of this life and this upside-down kingdom that we are a part of - death is actually a gateway to life.

please pray for us today and tomorrow as we remember the little boy, joshua, who never took a breath, but changed our lives forever. god rest his soul.

Talking Jesus with Metalheads

So how do you think about your faith? An agnostic friend of mine recently pointed me to a conversation about Christianity going on over on the "Metal Montana" (yes, Montana has its heavy metal fans - and some of them are even Christians! *gasp*). At any rate, he asked me to chime in, so I did (near the bottom of page 2).

I'd encourage you to click on over and follow along as well - after all, Scripture not only tells us we should love the lost (and its a little disturbing how many of us don't), it also says we need to be prepared to share the reason for the hope we have in Christ (1 Pe 3:15). So, what would you say? Any thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?

The Pirate in Us All

It's official - Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest is a great movie. We took all the kids and went to the matinee showing today, and I really liked it. But maybe not for the reasons you might expect. Let me see if I can explain (without giving too much away).

First of all, we loved the first movie. We walked into that one with a sort of with a sort of 'grin and bear it' attitude - my sister and her then fiancee had asked us to go, and we felt like we had to take one for the team. It was definitely not something we would have gone to on our own - I mean, come on, it's a Disney ride, right? I walked out utterly stunned, thinking, 'This is the best pirate movie of all time - I WANT TO BE A PIRATE! ARGHHHH!' (picture my wife looking embarrassed and you'll have it to a tee).

So that was the first movie. If you didn't like that one, you won't like this one. Save yourself the money and don't bother going. BUT... if you liked the first one, then you simply must see this one too. Whether or not you will like it, though, may be a different story.

Put simply, this is a very different movie. One friend described it as 'darker' - that may be an apt description, but probably not in the way you'd expect. This movie feels different, slower. There are less memorable one liners. But then again, these are people we already know from the first movie, and so you simply can't have the same element of surprise (how do you top something like the opening scene in the first movie anyway, with Jack sailing his leaky boat into port? It can't be done, so we shouldn't be too critical when they don't try!).

That said, there are still some great twists - the three-way sword fight was brilliant (nuff said). There is lots of the same comic relief that kept the first one from taking itself too seriously. The special effects are good, not overdone (or creepy wierd). With all that said, I found myself kind of 'waiting' for the movie to take off. I also found myself wondering 'Is this good enough that we're going to buy it when it comes out on video?'

And then, all those concerns were answered (affirmatively) in the last 10 minutes of the movie. This is where it is utterly brilliant. The first movie is a pirate movie - it's about a pirate named Jack Sparrow. This second movie is a philosophical expose, dressed up as a pirate movie - it's about the pirate in all of us.

And here's where it is absolutely brilliant - you don't realize what's going on until the end of the movie. The movie only really makes sense in retrospect, when you look back and realize what's been going on. The question at hand is simple: what will you do to get what you want, the thing that you love most? Who are you willing to betray in order to get (or save) what is dearest to you. The movie is full of people doing just that - selling out their principles to get what they desire. Even Elizabeth - yes, dear, charming, sweet Elizabeth - reveals that she too has a dark side. And it is absolutely stunning and tragic to watch it play out.

So I come away from this movie thinking, "Wow. I need to see that again. Because what was going on there was much more than a simple pirate movie - it was asking real deep, meaningful questions about friendship and love, right and wrong, and where do we draw the line." In short, this is a movie about human nature, about how all of us are pirates deep within, and when that inner darkness comes out, it ain't always pretty.

I also came away thinking I can't wait to see the next one. It's been a long time since I've seen a good cliffhanger, and this is one of the best. It will be very, very interesting to see how they resolve this thing - they've asked some good questions. Now we need to see if they come up with good answers.

Ok, that's all I'll say for now. Hopefully this will whet your appetite to go see it for yourself. Marilyn was a tad disappointed; all three of my kids loved it (because after all, its still a rousing piratey affair); I loved it because of the deeper questions it raised. And the ending is absolutely stellar. Do yourself a favor and go check it out. Once you do, I'd love to hear what you think about it (but let's try to check any spoilers to a minimum - the element of surprise is essential here!).

Looking forward to hearing what others thought of it...

Paul Tripp on Contentment

So you think your life sucks? What if you were walking down the sidewalk, minding your own business, when suddenly you got run over by an SUV and nearly killed? This is what happened to Paul Tripp's daughter recently, and he recently shared some great thoughts on contentment:

Real contentment isn't produced by external circumstances, but from attitudes of the heart. If you need life to be a certain way in order to be content, you won't experience contentment very often. True contentment is the result of gratitude and real gratitude is the result of humility. When you begin to realize that everyday you receive much more blessing than you could ever deserve, you are able to be content even in situations that you would have never chosen. When you are able to see that even in the darkest of moments there are things for which to be thankful, then you are able to experience contentment mixing with pain. When purposes that are larger then your own momentary happiness are what capture your heart and structure your activity, you are able to be content even when things aren't going your way.

I'd highly recommend you read the whole thing (especially if you'd like to know more about how Nicole Tripp is progressing in her recovery) Also, here's some background on the accident.

The easy thing, of course, is to be thankful this hasn't happened to you, and to pray for young Nicole. At the same time, perhaps we might be better served by stopping to ponder our own contentedness - how would you respond if you were Nicole? If you were her father? What kind of faith rests unshaken in the midst of adversity, content with - even blessing! - God in the face of hardship and disaster? That's the kind of faith I long for. What about you?

(HT: PalmTree Pundit)

Eyes that See

Sitting in a coffee shop early this independence day, I saw a horrifying scene flash across the TV screen, as a subway station surveillance camera in South Korea captures an awful event with unblinking faithfulness.

It's early in the morning - people are milling around, waiting for the next train to arrive, when suddenly, a blind man leaps over the guardrail and lays down in the tracks. Horrified onlockers scream hysterically, some waving shirts and arms in an attempt to slow the oncoming train; others cry out to the man on the tracks, begging him to move while he still has time. At the last second - literally - two train station employees leap onto the tracks and drag the man off to the side. The train misses them by mere feet, if not inches.

What prompts a man to do this? Fear? Despair? Hopelessness? Lack of vision? Does he really have nothing left to live for? I realize that people are feeling more socially isolated than ever, but is his life really that empty? Is his future really that bleak?

The temptation here is to write his behavior off as irrational, incomprehensible - but I think that's something of a cop out. You see, if I am honest, I find that not only can I actually relate, but his conclusion makes perfect sense. I myself have felt that kind of despair at times - not to the point of climbing onto the tracks, but certainly to the point of being able to fathom it, to understand the emotions that might drive someone to make that kind of ultimate action.

I myself have felt it at times in my marriage. Once not so long ago I told my wife, "I can understand why men leave their wives." That's not a reflection on her - it really says more about me. You see on the whole we actually have a very strong, healthy marriage. But at times, I find myself choosing what data I am going to process - I can very easily focus on the flaws, the faults, the imperfections, to the point where the only possible, logical conclusion is despair.

The problem here is not my logic - that actually functions quite nicely. No, the problem is that I am biased to only admit certain data, data that supports how I feel about the situation at the moment.

We all do this, in one place or another. We look at what's going on around us and we draw conclusions about the future. That is a huge act of faith on our part. We choose to believe ourselves rather than what God or others have to say. We effectively confess that 'My eyes are ultimate - I see clearly and will be the ultimate interpreter of the future.' We do exactly the same thing that Adam and Eve did in the garden: we look at the forbidden fruit, and we attempt to rewrite the story based on our own interpretations.

We were not designed to live this way. As Camus said, "The only real philosophical question is suicide" - by this he meant, why shouldn't we do it? If we will be the gods of our own universe, then suicide is the only real option because we are ultimately gods who are weak, finite, bent, and mortal.

And yet, deep down, in spite of our optimistic atheism, we all know that suicide is NOT the right option. Why did the people scream and beg for this man to move? Why did two workers put their own lives at risk to save his? At the end of the day, why will almost everyone (rightly) recognize their actions as good, just, noble, right? Why shouldn't I divorce my wife when things look bleak?

I think that deep down we simply cannot suppress the knowledge of God - that he exists, that he has created us, and we are destined for something better. We are imago dei, image of God, fallen and bent, yet the resemblance unmistakably persists. We know that it is tragic to throw away human life because we know there is something noble in every life.

We know that this nobility often comes through most clearly in the midst of hard times - like blindness, like conflict. Real beauty, the kind that is transcendant and unquenchable, shines most clearly when it persists even after one is wronged by others, robbed of hope. Humans are meant to be glorious. They are meant to be able to see the world rightly even when you take away their eyes. They are meant to be in relationship with one another, to persist in marriage not because it is convenient or beneficial to them, but because they have obligated themselves to another human being, to stick with them through thick or thin, for better or worse.

Humanity is meant for something more, for someone more. But we have these weak feeble eyes that keep turning inwards on ourselves. And when we do that, we despair because all we can see is ourself and our fundamental inability, weakness and frailty. We are like vapor, and life is like a gale. The only way to stay the course is to trust in someone that sees better than we do, who can look further down the road.

That is faith. That is what God calls us to. And that is our only hope for meaning and fulfillment - to live a life that is grounded in others, in Another. We need eyes that see they way his do.

Catching Up

As most of you have probably noticed, my blogging has been relatively light lately. Even though I've graduated from seminary, I'm still busy studying - this time for ordination. So as I come across interesting articles on the web, I tend to bookmark them under a folder called 'Blog Fodder' (meaning, this might be worth reflecting on at some point). Right now, that folder is getting pretty full.

SO... in an effort to provide some reading material, I think I'll pass along a couple of interesting reads:

• First, there's this: Roots of human family tree are incredibly shallow. As in, every single human being alive today comes from a common ancestor who lived less than 5000 years ago. Regardless of what you think about evolution vs. creation, doesn't this seem to bolster the biblical claim that their was a real historical Adam from whom we are all descended? Why is it that no "unbiased secular scientists" would ever draw this conclusion? (perhaps the answer is along the lines of "because there is no such thing as 'unbiased secular scientists'...)
  
  
• Second, there's this: Comatose man's brain rewires itself. The gist is straightforward - after 20+ years in a comatose state, Terry Wallis has regained a suprising amount of functionality. Yes, the article is clear that he's not Terri Schiavo. But it's worth noting that for most of this time his quality of life was not much different from hers.
  
  Dr. James Bernat, a neurologist at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire puts it like this: "Most neurologists would have been willing to bet money that whatever the cause of it, if it hadn't changed in 19 years, wasn't going to change now."
  
  Wallis' father said his son is now able to make jokes. "That was something he wasn't able to do early in his recovery," Jerry Wallis said. "He now seems almost exactly like his old self. And he very often tells us how glad he is to be alive."
  
  My point is that there was a very long period where there was absolutely no hope of progress. And yet, suddenly (miraculously!), Wallis has made a stunning recovery. So recovery is at least possible, even in extremely severe cases. And the man who is recovering is extremely glad to be alive.
  
  So why is it that no "human rights activists" are trumpeting this case, calling for a caution and patience, for enduring rather than pulling the plug? Why are they insisting that not only do people have the right to die, but that others have the right to make that decision for them? (perhaps the answer is that they are not really about 'human rights' so much as they are about 'their own rights'...)
  
  
• Third and finally. Remember Anne Lamott? She's someone I really want to like - I shared what she wrote about her conversion to Christianity over a year ago in a post entitled Damascus Road. But now there's this - on June 25 in the L.A. Times she wrote about how she helped kill a man, a friend of hers suffering from terminal cancer. Why is there no outcry? Why is it that her actions are more likely to be lauded than condemned?

What's the common thread in each of these? I think they all illustrate a world-view that is fundamentally anti-faith. We consistently act in our own interests, based on what we ourselves see, what we ourselves determine to be right. In biblical lingo, we're like the ancient Israelites in the days of the judges: "each one did what was right in his own eyes."

Christianity, on the other hand is a call to trust someone else's eyes (God's) rather than our own, a call to serve others rather than ourselves. Anything less simply isn't Christianity. Maybe this is why the author of Hebrews says 'Apart from faith it is impossible to please God.'

Not sure where I'm going with all this - it's just interesting blog fodder. And I'd love to hear from someone who disagrees with me here.

greetings from the womb

Say Hello to Asher Knox!

He was born Thursday evening at 8:34 and weighed in at 7lbs 6.5 oz. You can read about it and see pics of him here at our blog.

Thanks for all your prayers. Asher was one of Jacob's sons from the Bible and in Hebrew means "blessing." Knox comes from John Knox, A Scottish Reformer.

Asher and Mom are both doing very well - we all came home today and Bridger just loves being a big brother.