3H1P is a blogging project wherein three heathens (Ziztur, Flimsy and Petter) and one pastor (Keith) answer questions posed by readers of the blog and discuss various issues related to religion, philosophy, science, etc. If you have a question that you’d like to see answered by 3H1P, ask it in the comment box. We promise we’ll probably get to it.

The following comment is asked by Mike, a long time reader/commenter of this blog, who blogs at Inquiring Infidel. Mike is one of the league of awesome St. Louis-based freethinking bloggers.

“What, if anything, could potentially convince you that your position on God is wrong?”

It is answered by Pastor Keith:

Thanks for the question.  To begin with, I assume that my position on God is wrong in some form or another.  My understanding of God has shifted over the years, as I’ve come to know Him better.  I still am pretty far from understanding Him completely.  Most of what I know about Him, I hold loosely and leave subject to change when another point-of-view makes more sense.  I hold very firmly a a few things I am convinced of regarding God.  These are also subject to change, but it would take something significant to bring about that change.  I’m going to assume that your question wants to know what could convince me to change on these most fundamental beliefs about God.  Though not exhaustive, here’s a few things that would convince me to change those most fundamental beliefs.

One thing that would convince me to change my position on God, would be for me to no longer experience His leading or the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life.  My subjective personal experiences are a huge part of why I believe in God and follow Jesus.  Therefore, I would have to no longer experience God to believe that He does not exist.

Another thing that would convince me that I have been erroneous regarding God, would be for key people in my world to give credit for their life changes to someone else.  My great-grandfather completely turned his life around because he met Jesus, and many other acquaintances of mine have had life-changing experiences.  If these individuals started identifying someone else as the source of that change, if I developed strong reasons to consider their experiences delusional, or if I had reason to believe they were suppressing the truth then I would be more compelled to believe that my position on God is wrong.

Another thing that would shift my faith in Jesus specifically, would be if I was convinced that He did not rise from the dead.  If convinced of this, I would probably still highly regard his teachings, and I might still be a theist … however, I would not be a Christian.  A big part of why I follow Jesus is because of His resurrection.  If I were persuaded that He did not resurrect, I would be convinced that a firmly held aspect of my position on God was erroneous.

Finally, one thing that will surely convince me regarding God’s existence or non-existence will be my own death.  I don’t think for a moment that I have the afterlife entirely figured out (my thoughts on the after-life are specific, yet held loosely), but if I die and do not meet Jesus … whatever consciousness I would have left (likely none), will once and for all be convinced that I was wrong to believe.

Overall, my decision to follow Jesus with my life has many elements to it: intellectual, spiritual, etc.  The recognition of error in one of those areas would bring about a change in the way I think about God, but it would likely take the recognition of error in all or most of them to cause me to no longer believe in His existence.  Thanks for the good question!

Last night, my friends and I (which consisted of nearly the entire St. Louis ring of skeptical bloggers!) had a small debate night at my apartment in St. Louis. 9 People attended, and 2 groups of people debated 2 topics.

The first was a debate between Pastor Keith and War_On_Error. Their topic was “Does God Lie?” The debate dissolved into a group discussion before it finished, mostly because P. Keith and War more or less agreed! That’s okay though, because instead of talking about whether or not god lies, we talked about the real point of the debate. The real point of showing that god lies (or deceives, if you are bothered by the word lie) is that people can be mistaken about what god wants. Out discussion was on whether or not it might be better (from a standpoint of convincing some people that they don’t have a “special knowledge” trump card) to have a conversation about how hard Biblical interpretation is. If we can convince people that Biblical interpretation is hard, then maybe we can convince them – for example – that someone doesn’t have absolute proof by mandate from their god that they should vote down civil rights for homosexuals.

Next, Saint_Gasoline and Inquiring Infidel debated the Kalam Cosmological argument, with Inquiring Infidel pretending to be William Lane Craig. While they were debating, I kept thinking that since lots of people don’t know what “M-theory” and “string theory” mean in any detail, that Saint Gasoline, with all of his appeals to physics, would sound like, “blah blah blah blah” to Inquiring Infidel-Craig’s more macro approach. I did think it was kind of amusing that Infidel-Craig brought up Hilbert’s Hotel, calling such a notion absurd, when god is basically equally absurd, at least in the, “god is timeless, eternal, and ultra-powerful” sense. We speculated that a timeless being could not have thoughts, because thoughts entailed a time structure. Alas.

For the March debate night, Andrea_The_Nerd and I are debating gay marriage. The second debate is still up for grabs.

The debate night for April will be couples debate! Andrea and War will debate debating (“debaters are great!” vs. “debaters are wankers!”) while Flimsy and I will be debating marriage (“Marriage is awesome!” vs “Marriage is for suckers!”)

Also, the best part of debate night is Debate Kitteh! She decided to hang out on the lectern for the entire first debate, playfully batting at people’s notes. 

Once of these days, I swear, we’ll move to more public debates.

3H1P is a blogging project wherein three heathens (Ziztur, Flimsy and Petter) and one pastor (Keith) answer questions posed by readers of the blog and discuss various issues related to religion, philosophy, science, etc. If you have a question that you’d like to see answered by 3H1P, ask it in the comment box. We promise we’ll probably get to it. The following comment is asked by Lord Runolfr, a long time reader/commenter of this blog (he even wrote a guest post here, just because he felt like it). It is answered (sort of) by Keith.

I guess this is as much for Pastor Keith as anyone.

There was a very serious crime a few weeks ago, right around Halloween: a high school girl was assaulted by a gang outside of a dance. I remember hearing it discussed on a talk radio show while I was driving through Birmingham.

Leaving aside the crime itself and how the criminals should be treated, the host expressed his outrage at the fact that there were a dozen or more witnesses to the crime who did nothing about it. Their inaction left him completely flabbergasted.

If it’s morally wrong for people who are witnesses to a crime to do nothing whatsoever to stop it, what about God?

If…

1) You believe God exists, and

2) You believe God has the power to intervene in human affairs, and

3) God is aware of essentially everything happening on Earth, and

4) You believe that taking some kind of action to stop a horrible crime in progress is the morally correct thing to do,…

… then why consider God any sort of moral authority when He routinely allows horrible crimes to occur without taking any action?

-Lord Runolfr

Lord Runolfr,

Thanks for the good question. The short answer is this: I believe that this universe was created to provide objective witness to the power of love. If I, as a part of this world, interfere at my own risk to save another … I have helped further the purpose of this world’s existence. If God, as not part of this world, interferes to stop an evil … He would actually invalidate the world’s objectivity. This is why it is immoral for me to fail to stop the injustices I witness, and not immoral for God to witness injustices and not immediately intervene.

Since I’m offering a version of the argument from free will, let me dive deeper into this question by responding to one of Flimsyman’s comments in the Ziztur’s initial post on the morality of witness. I will respond to Flimsy from this point out, but hopefully eavesdropping will help answer your question in more detail. Thanks!

Flimsyman said:

“The most annoying thing, to me, about the problem of evil is the inevitable theist response – “free will.” Seriously, I’ve never heard a theist respond to the problem of evil with anything other than “free will.” The claim is that God must allow human beings to commit such immoral acts because if he infringed upon our free will by stopping us, moral right and wrong would lose all meaning, since we could never choose to perform an immoral act.

Two obvious responses to this theology: Firstly, it doesn’t address all the voluminous “natural” evil, not caused by human action, that occurs – everything from rarities like earthquakes and erupting volcanoes to relatively common diseases and birth defects. Secondly, none of these theists believe that the government or police are removing all meaning from moral right and wrong by preventing criminals from committing crime. What . . . do people actually trust the government to intervene in such a way that our free will is preserved, yet believe that God is incapable of finding a solution himself?”

Flimsy,

I respectfully disagree with your counter to the argument that free will. First, I don’t consider the danger of removing free will being that it robs morality of its meaning … rather I consider the problem with removing free will is that this world would no longer be objective. Certainly, the interference of a deity to prevent evil would violate the objectivity of this world.

Second, your first point suggested that it does not account for “all the voluminous “natural” evil, not caused by human action, that occurs.” I do not think it is possible to prove that human action could not have spawned “natural” evil over the past years and years and years of human decision (for example, global warming is considered by many to be a man-caused action … yet could be considered a “natural” evil in a couple hundred years or sooner).

Third, law enforcement can subjectively put a stop to evil because they are participants within this universe. In no way would this disqualify the objectivity of this world.

Finally, I have never heard a Christian say that God will never deal with evil. In fact, nearly all (if not all) forms of Christianity point to a time where God will put an end to evil and usher in a new world – one that is subjectively moral in the way you suggest this world should be. In that world, there will be no death, disaster, etc. If this proves true, God’s morality is intact … for surely it is not immoral to be unable to stop an injustice, and also not immoral to stop that injustice the moment one is able.

I cannot speak for other Christians, and I am also confident that the argument from free will has been thrown at you before as an excuse to not wrestle more deeply with the problem of evil in this world. However, we know each other well enough for you to know that I am legitimately persuaded that the reason that God does not interfere with specific occurrences of evil is that this world was created to provide an objective testimony to the power of love … and that I neither turn a blind eye to or remain unaware of the evils that I run into in this world. One of the reasons that I give myself to the causes I do is that I believe that we have also been given the free will to do good. Bridging gaps between theists & atheists is one of the many ways we both try to use the life we have on this earth to make the world better. Thanks for letting me partner with you guys in doing that. One thing we all agree on is that human inaction in the face of injustice, misunderstanding, or hatred is not the path for us … whether theist or atheist. And to me, that’s moral. Thanks!

3H1P is a blogging project wherein three heathens (Ziztur, Flimsy and Petter) and one pastor (Keith) answer questions posed by readers of the blog and discuss various issues related to religion, philosophy, science, etc. If you have a question that you’d like to see answered by 3H1P, ask it in the comment box. We promise we’ll probably get to it. The following is Pastor Keith’s response to this question:

Hi, this is for Pastor Keith. I’ve read that most Christians are ok with evolution. But the truth of evolution shows that the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden is a myth, hence there was no “Fall”, no “Original Sin”. Without “Original Sin” there is no need for “Salvation”. Jesus is pointless. So, how can a Christian accept evolution? -Mitch

Thanks for the question and for the opportunity to address it. In order to attempt an answer to your overall question – “How can a Christian accept evolution?” – I must first make an adjustment to one of the fundamental assumptions in your request.

The assumption that without “Original Sin” there is no need for “Salvation” is a misunderstanding of the breadth of theology under the heading of “Christian.” Numerous theologies are dependent on the concept of original sin, but numerous theologies also disregard the concept of original sin. The issue itself is not universally agreed on in the church at large. So, whether the Genesis account supports the doctrine of original sin or not, the doctrine itself is not essential to Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that many churches and denominations talk about “salvation” without believing the doctrine of original sin. I can go into more detail on this issue, but I believe it would detract from your larger question … which I will get on to now ?.

Given that the only way to stop evolution is extinction, I’m a huge fan of evolution. I’m both grateful for it and willing participant in it. I am not only “ok” with evolution, but a fan of it. Said another way, accepting evolution has had the same amount of negative impact on my faith as accepting gravity has.

I believe in creation and in God as the first cause, but I do not believe in creationism. The fossil record, plate tectonics, comparative anatomy, etc. all point to evolution. Everything we can understand from the world around at this point suggests that the world is not 6000 years old. I am humble enough to know that I am not the most scientifically knowledgeable man on the planet … and I will trust those who are more knowledgeable to be competent and sincere.

I do know a little about Scripture. I know that the book of Genesis was written to detail the Israelite tribes’ common history … it is not a science textbook. I know that the Hebrew word “yom” is translated as “day” in most Bibles even though it can be translated as “period of time” (and is in fact translated as such in other parts of the Old Testament). In fact, the more detailed creation account in Genesis two shows Adam classifying the species in between the time where he was created and where Eve was created. This surely took at least a lifetime to accomplish, and yet that same time period was considered a “day” in Genesis 1. I am humble enough to think that translators do not get every variable of an ancient Hebrew text 100% correct.

Humility also points to the fact that science changes over time. This is one of science’s great strengths … it is continually self-correcting and growing. However, I hold my current understanding of evolution loosely enough to allow continued learning. In the same way, one of theology’s greatest strengths is its willingness to self-correct over time. Information flows more freely today than ever before, and one does not have to get their spiritual information from a lone interpreter today.

Evolution does not change my opinion of God as the source of life. I think the complexity and beauty of evolution only enhances my esteem for God. Please allow me to draw a couple of spiritual lessons that I see echoed in evolution that show how my belief in evolution enhances my faith.

First let me steal an example from my friend Siamang. If one man fights one bear, the man has roughly 0% chance of survival. If fifty men fight one bear, the bear has roughly 0% of survival. That human beings continue to survive and thrive is not because we are the strongest, but largely because we form among the tightest bonds of any creature. We have survived by banding together. Note my previous post about how I believe the underlying purpose of this universe is to objectively affirm love: I see the survival of humanity as a testimony to the power of love. It is because of our bonds that we survive. Thus, I find evolution and my faith in total alignment.

Secondly, I think that science as an exploration of the world is an act of worship for me. Through science we have discovered a universe more elegant, grand, and complex that ever imagined. If there is a God – and I believe there is – how could such exploration be anything but honoring to that God? I am spiritually alive when I am contemplating Annie Dillard’s spiritual lessons from nature, or reading an article on quantum theory. I am spiritually alive when I listen to my sons reason together as to why an earthworm does not have eyes.

My boys were discussing earthworms last night. They tossed around several theories as to why earthworms do not have eyes. They thought the earthworm they were examining had had his eyes poked out, but then they noticed that none of the earthworms had eyes. They explored other options, nearly all of them containing a grain of truth, with none of them quite centering it. My efforts at understanding how life as I know it today came about are similar. I mull lots of theories, nearly all containing some value … and yet I still do not have it perfectly centered. So I am humble. I believe in God and I follow Jesus. I affirm evolution and I trust scientists. And I am humble enough not only to see no reason why a person cannot do all of those, but also find them working together to call me to a lifetime of testimony to the power of love.

3H1P is a blogging project wherein three heathens (Ziztur, Flimsy and Petter) and one pastor (Keith) answer questions posed by readers of the blog and discuss various issues related to religion, philosophy, science, etc. If you have a question that you’d like to see answered by 3H1P, ask it in the comment box. We promise we’ll probably get to it. The following is Pastor Keith’s response to this question:

What are your feelings toward death (in other words, what happens when you die)?

I’m not a huge fan of death. I could do without it. But, like Anton Chigurh, it just keeps coming regardless of whether or not I approve. So I vacillate between fearing and running from death like Llewelyn Moss, or accepting its insatiability and living my short life to the full like Sheriff Bell. To state the obvious, my feelings toward death are not positive.

“What happens when we die?” is a unique question. Most questions have right and wrong answers. We can research, and change our answer if what we learn suggests a change is needed. However, with the question of what happens when we die, we discover the truth at a point where it is impossible for us to make any changes based on this information. This isn’t a setup to Pascal’s wager. This is simply an admission that the answer to this question only comes at the point where it’s impossible to go back and trade our answer for the correct one. Though this fact sucks, to accept it is far wiser than to war against it.

The good news for this blogger is that I can say anything I want and you can’t prove me wrong. I can recommend that at death we come face-to-face with the Flying Spaghetti Monster and loyal Pastafarians are ushered into an eternal paradise, where those who failed to worship him are crushed until they resemble that “marinara sauce” fast food chains give out with their mozzarella sticks- and you couldn’t prove me wrong. So, I’m offering the idea that at death everyone who hasn’t given me enormous sums of money is going to be tortured for eternity … yeah, that sounds about right. Now, of course, you don’t have to give me an enormous sum of money, but you don’t want to face an eternity of being crushed into marinara and find that you should have, now do you? Do you?!?

For me the question of what happens when we die is tied to other deep and difficult-to-answer questions like “Why are we here?” So allow me the opportunity to step back and try to give a long answer to a straight-forward question.

I am forever dumbfounded that something rather than nothing exists. While I do not understand everything about how this universe exists, I am currently persuaded – through my current scientific understanding, my present confidence in the Kalam cosmological argument, and other reasons – that this universe began to exist. The theory I currently prescribe to proposes that a causeless, necessary agent caused this universe to exist.

This persuasion that a necessary being caused this temporal universe suggests that this necessary being must be personal. If a personal being caused this temporal universe, then the reason for which that being caused the universe would also be temporal.

That temporal reason or purpose would seemingly be something the causeless agent could not achieve without that temporal creation. To me, it would otherwise be pointless to cause such a temporal universe. This train of thought leads me to consider what kind of things a causeless agent would be unable to achieve.

Admittedly, the long leaps in logic get even longer for me here … but today I still find these leaps to be shorter than others available to me. If tomorrow, I should find a more logical approach, I will be persuaded by it. One thing a causeless agent would still be unable to achieve is objectivity. Therefore, it is logical to consider if this universe exists to provide objectivity. If the universe would provide objectivity in a way a causeless, necessary being could not, it is sensible for us to consider why such a being would cause something objective to exist. In my life, the times I see objectivity most desired are in the areas of education (where something is objectively proven) or in the area of justice (where someone is convicted or set free based on the decision of an objective judge or jury). If this is the case, then this universe is an objective testing ground, perhaps a jury of sorts.

If this caused universe is intended to serve as an objective testing ground, I propose that this universe exists to test the competing theories of love and hate. The twin forces identified by these words are the most powerful I have experienced in my lifetime. The tension between these two forces is carried in memes and narratives of love versus hate stretching across cultures and throughout time.

I have been asked before, “Is God good because He achieves a standard of goodness that is outside Himself … or is God good because He is powerful and whatever He considered good would be considered good and we would be unable to access any standard of goodness outside of that?” This is a good question … one that hides a charge. This question alleges that it is possible that God is only good because He is powerful, rather than because He actually is good. Such a question could only be answered by an objective test … or the assembling of an objective jury. Such a test should show whether love or hate is good, and whether goodness is just a matter of power. If I am correct that a causeless being caused this universe in order to test said being’s confidence that love is better than hate, then I propose that such a being is characterized by what I call love (which builds up and openly welcomes exploration) rather than by what I call hate (which destroys and tolerates no questioning).

My faith tradition upholds the view that God welcomes challenge and appeals to this universe as an objective testing grounds. A reading of the first chapters of Job reveals Satan accusing God of showing favoritism … that Job’s life of love exists only because God has unreasonably filled his life with good things. God takes this accusation seriously and allows measures to be taken to assure that objectivity is maintained. God allows Satan to test if Job lives a life of love and faithfulness objectively, and not because he has been dealt a better hand. The rest of the book of Job details Job’s experience in continuing to find love and wisdom while his quality of life is systematically destroyed by Satan. The story of Job ends with the last chapter detailing how at the end of this experience, God lavishes good things on Job. Because Job has been loving when his life was in shambles, God is able to lovingly bless him without violating the objectivity of life’s experiment.

My faith tradition also sees the value of prayer through the lens of a universe-as-testing-grounds model. That a causeless being would favor some part of this universe over another would be favoritism … and would invalidate the purpose of this universe. But a personal causeless being would not disqualify the universe’s objectivity to grant selfless requests offered by one temporal being on behalf of others. In fact, the act of prayer on behalf of another is itself an act of love. Like Job, faithfulness to show love regardless of circumstances provides our objective testimony and allows that loving necessary being I call God to personally express love out without interfering with the primary purpose for this universe.

This all brings us back to what I think (if by now I can be accused of thinking … surely the stacking of unproven premises on top of one another hardly qualifies as thinking ;-)) happens after one dies. I do not know what happens after one dies. I know that the body ceases to function. I know that any recognizable existence in this world end
s at that point.

I grasp that death like Anton Chigurh will keep coming until it has me. I grasp that hatred will keep charging until it has destroyed the whole universe. But by faithfulness to an ideal, I grasp what I consider a secret to this universe … that love cannot be destroyed by hate.

So my confidence is that love is a way of life that is not destroyed at death. Rather, one who holds faithfully to love even as he or she faces death casts their vote as one small part of this objective jury.

I see this in my faith tradition, where Jesus himself describes what happens after death as a sorting of sheep and goats in Matthew chapter twenty-five. While theologians often take this and other similar passages as inferring reward and punishment, I see in them a counting of a sort of vote. Those who lived in love (for fun read Matthew 25 as Jesus describes the actions of those he sorts … this is plainly a sorting of love and hate … not a sorting of religious affiliation) go to the right and those who lived in selfish hatred go to the left. As I best understand it, those who lived in love will join in whatever eternal existence looks like as jurors testifying objectively to the supremacy of love. Those who lived in hatred will join in whatever eternal existence looks like as jurors testifying to the total destruction of hatred. Regardless of how many choose love and how many choose hatred, … our final states will themselves give testimony that love itself is good, while hatred finds its end.

So, at death, I believe we enter into an eternal state testifying to the value of love or the impotency of hatred. We provide an objective testimony that the causeless being that caused this universe could never have provided, thus fulfilling the temporary purpose of this universe. Of course, if I am wrong I will not be able to do anything about it once I found out. Until that day, I will do my best to offer my life as a testimony to love, whether such testimony survives my body’s death or meets its end along with me.

And so Chigurh will keep coming and I can’t stop him. Like Sheriff Bell I am resigned. I dream of lost money. I dream that my father is up ahead am and he’s building a fire. And I wake up.

 This is a new series of blog posts in which three heathens and one pastor (Hence 3H1P) answer questions posed by bloggers and offer point-counterpoint analysis of interesting topics. The three heathens are Flimsy, Ziztur and Petter while the one pastor is Pastor Keith. If you have a question you’d like to see answered by 3H1P, ask away in the comments box. Here’s his intro!

Much thanks to Ziztur, Flimsy, & Petter on the opportunity to be a guest on their blog. My name is Keith and I am a pastor. Ziz & Flimsy have befriended me and asked me to participate in a series of posts where we answer questions together: me from a Christian perspective and they from an atheist perspective. A couple of clarifications before I begin … first, I will write as a representative of myself, and not of Christendom as a whole. I am not capable of representing all of Christendom and even if I were, Christendom would certainly not elect me as such a representative. Additionally, I would have to use eleventh century words like “Christendom” a lot and that would suck. Second, I will participate in these posts with an open mind … knowing that my opinions are just that. If I am persuaded to change various thoughts and beliefs through this process, I will be all the better. I request that you approach them with a similarly open mind. Thank you for engaging with this series … and without further ado, let’s get to our first question.

1. How did you become a Christian?

I was raised near a small Illinois town of seventy-five people, and my family and I lived about five miles outside of town on a farm. When I rode the bus to my school, I rode for an hour in the morning, and another hour in the evening. So, the best thing public education did for me was to give me two hours each day for reading. And I read everything. I read novels, Native American stories, and Encyclopedia Brown. I read everything Roald Dahl ever wrote, jokebooks, and even my cousin’s Babysitter’s Club series. And I read the Bible … a lot. When I read the Bible, I was continually drawn to the gospels. From a very early age, I spent time alone pondering the challenge that Jesus’ life and death represented.

I believe it was in third grade that I started trying to follow Him. There was a kid in my class who had the whole package of grade school isolation. He was unintelligent, obese, and impoverished. He must have bathed on only the rarest of occasions, and he lived in a ramshackle excuse for a house in one of our counties poorer areas nicknamed “Brooklyn.” Third grade work was pretty easy for me, so I decided that I was in third grade to help this kid. We started spending large amounts of time together. The teacher eventually recognized this and allowed me to officially be his tutor. His grades improved significantly, and I used what little social capital I had to ensure that he was included in recess games, group projects, etc. Not only did this relationship make his and my life better, but it seemed to alter the atmosphere of our class and of the school in a small but significant way. From this experience, I determined that following Jesus seemed to change the world for the better. While I was officially baptized sometime after that … it was at that point that I decided I wanted to spend my life emulating Jesus. To this point, following Him has been the absolute joy of my life.