God
Theology Will Keep You from Committing Suicide
A systematic study of what the Bible says about a particular topic is theology proper.
It’s a pursuit every Christian must vigorously and regularly engage…
Because it’s the means by which we answer the hard questions of life.
Questions like who am I? Why are we here? What is God? What happens when I die? Do I have a soul?
Questions no one is immune from. And questions science ultimately can’t answer.
NIH Director Francis Collins put it this way:
Belief in God was for me anyway, a much more defensible, plausible position. Not something I could prove but something that made great sense and also provided a powerful answer to some of the biggest questions we all ask of our selves and that science can’t really help us with. Like why am I here? And what does life mean anyway?
Without thoughtful, coherent answers to our big questions, life makes no sense at all.
It would be nice if we could simply stop asking those questions. But that’s impossible. We are forever curious. We constantly ask these questions.
We are natural born theologians.
To look for the answers outside of Christ, however, leads to confusion. All other disciplines lead to dead ends. Isolation. Incoherence.
As Gene Fant said at the Evangel blog, “A secularist worldview is hopelessly fractured…. There can be no meaningful interpretive key for knowledge because there is only disintegration and brokenness among the various stakeholders.”
Theology, on the other hand, offers us a relentlessly unified, comprehensive answer to the hard questions: Christ is lord over all.
Listen: If our questions go unanswered, everything remains in the air. Everything becomes unanchored.
Without theology, despair looms. Without theology, suicide knocks at our door.
Heavy prices to pay for not believing in God.
Thus theology leads to relevance. In fact, while regarded as a rather stuffy, arid discipline, it’s the cornerstone on which a Christian must build AND maintain his life.
There is no choice. We must use our minds in this pursuit. Let me know what you think.
What Separates Humans from Animals? 10 Popular Ideas
Back in 1994 Time magazine announced “No single, essential difference separates human beings from other animals.”
I’m no scientist, theologian or philosopher, but that seems strangely problematic.
Especially after looking at a variety of ways in which we appear vastly different.
Here are ten of the most popular:
1. Well-formed rational faculties. Humans develop arguments, explore lines of logic, draw conclusions and form hypothesis.
2. Language. Humans engage in deep meaningful conversations. Exhibit complex and large vocabularies. Master difficult grammar.
3. Writing. Humans articulate arguments on paper, typewriter or blog. They create sweeping stories. They write love letters to each other.
4. Research. Humans are incorrigibly curious. They nose around dusty libraries. Hound complete strangers for clues. Drill through Wikipedia, Monergism or the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
5. Quest for meaning. Humans demand answers to questions like, ”Why do I exist? What’s my purpose? Where am I going? Why was I created?”
6. Anxiety over death. Humans–especially Kierkegaard–worry about what happens to them after they die.
7. Refined aesthetic sense. Humans cultivate beautiful flower gardens. Remodel their kitchens after four years. Play classical music all day.
8. Creative impulse. Humans paint portraits, write poems, sculpt statues, design skyscrapers. Endlessly.
9. Moral character. Humans stress virtues and resist vices. They create laws to define those virtues and vices. And offices to defend those laws.
10. Religious bent. Humans sense the transcendent and holy and try to define it. They practicing spiritual disciplines and craft rituals–from the simple to the complex.
Let me add one more to this list: Humans are tirelessly intrigued to know what makes them different from other animals–and invest enormous amounts of time pinning the differences down.
In fact, theologians earn doctorates attempting to specify one characteristic of humans–or a select few–in which the image of God is primarily seen.
But it boils down to this: What separates humans from animals is that we bear the image of God.
What does that mean? Man is simply like God–rational, moral, creative, aesthetic. More importantly, humans represent God.
And to represent God is to receive a calling that requires humble devotion to the God’s glory.
In the end, it’s not about getting hung up on discovering that single characteristic that defines “the image of God.”
No.
It’s about getting hung up on this simple mandate: We are creatures designed to bring honor to Christ through our gentle, grace-affirming subjugation of the earth for the gospel.
By the way–just for grins–can you think of any more ways that people have tried to define the differences between humans and animals? Please share!
Disclaimer: I fail miserably at nearly all the above categories. So don’t look to me as a model human. 
What Suffering Can Teach Us about God–and Ourselves
Of the enduring success of his book Catcher in the Rye the late J. D. Salinger said it was a living nightmare.
That sounds strange to me, a man who doesn’t have the success of a Salinger–and wouldn’t mind it.
But I think it would sound equally strange to a Haitian father who lost five children to a deadly earthquake.
Suffering Is Personal
I’ve never know devastation on the level of the Haiti earthquake.
I only know what it means to watch your father deteriorate rapidly from malignant, rapidly metastasizing lung cancer.
I only know what it means to watch a man fall 200 feet to his death in a climbing accident. [That man was my step father.]
My parents divorced when I was twelve. I’ve had my heart broken dozens of times before I married one of the most gracious person’s alive.
But I’ve never experienced devastation on the level of Haiti. And neither did Salinger.
But we can’t dismiss or minimize his pain. Or my pain. Or your pain–no matter what you’ve been through.
But neither does it really qualify us to answer the question of theodicy for other people–especially for those in Haiti.
The Worst Response to Suffering in the World
A recent BBC article asked, “Why Does God allow Natural Disasters to Occur?” Great question. Maybe.
The writer–a philosophy lecturer at the University of Glasgow–does an elegant job of covering the historical and modern arguments [and counter-arguments] for the problem of evil, but without landing on any one conviction.
Instead, he leaves you with the nagging impression that God is on trial–and things aren’t looking good for him.
Here are the facts: The universe doesn’t care about you or me. In fact, it doesn’t care about humans at all.
The universe and the earth that floats in it are nothing more than machines grinding away by impersonal forces. Sometimes those forces involve the destruction of humans.
Forces, mind you, set forth at some time by God. So we ask the question: If God is omnipotent and benevolent, why does he allow this to happen?
Why does he allow the mechanical operations of the world to destroy us? Naturally, when that question arises, it’s not God who is own trial–it’s us.
Now, I’m not big on defending more territory than I can manage, so in the long run I don’t feel obligated to answer this question.
Neither do I feel qualified.
Here’s why: outside of the aid my family has given to the survivors of the Haitian earthquake, in no way have I been involved in this tragedy.
I don’t know anyone in that country. I don’t have friends who know anyone in that country.
It’s peripheral to my existence, if you know what I mean.
In my mind, the best people to answer these questions are in Haiti. The worst, politicos and academics in America–like Lisa Miller or Pat Robertson or even me.
What We Do with Suffering
This has always intrigued me about the human race: When we see a tragedy like Haiti, we seem to absorb it all in and think this is the worst devastation WE’VE ever known.
It personally rocks our world. Is that the least bit fair–or even logical?
Sylvia Plath–a suburban mother and poet–equated her inner torment to that of the suffering of an Auschwitz Jew and thus buried her head in an oven.
She’s been criticized for co-opting Holocaust Jews’ trauma for her own.
And I think we are in danger of doing the same thing when we meditate on the meaning of a tragedy that doesn’t impact us personally–and then try to answer the so-called dilemma.
The real question is: What are people in Haiti saying? [Nod to Terry Mattingly for drawing my attention to this question.]
Haitians’ Religious Responses to the Earthquake
Emotions in Haiti range from steady faith to outright despair. One Haitian seminarian said, “You have to question your faith, but hopefully not lose it.”
Another woman cried: “This is what God did! See what God can do!”
Dudu Orelian, a Haitian man who lost a brother and nephew in the earthquake, stood outside the stone and metal rod wreckage that was once Notre Dame Cathedral of Port-au-Prince and said, ”God is angry at the world.”
Most Haitians are Christian–largely Catholic with a small but growing number of Protestants. But most also practice Voodoo–the official state religion [like Catholicism].
Regardless of their religious focus, though, they seem to say the same thing: in some measure the earthquake is the hand of God.
Rev. Eric Toussaint said, “We must recognize his power.”
Haitian-American musician Richard Morse–whose mother is a singer and Voodoo priestess–said, “If all of a sudden, in 15 seconds, 20 seconds, all the physical representations of corruption are destroyed, it gives you pause for thought.”
Indeed.
But what happens when you lose five children in the rubble? One man said, “How could He do this to us? There is no God.”
Another woman was seen tossing her Bible into a fire.
Each of these examples represents a personal response to the problem of suffering. Which brings me to my next point.
What We Can Know about God in Suffering
Pain is personal. Subjective. Non-quantifiable. Thus, immeasurable.
Does a person who lost five children in a school shooting experience any more emotional pain than a man who lost an adult son to cancer?
What about a writer tormented by the popularity his book brought him: Is that any less than a man who’s brother and nephew were killed?
No. It’s not fair to suggest that.
Neither do I think it’s entirely fair to adopt a stranger’s real tragedy to defend or object to some abstract argument.
Here’s what it all boils down to: God created man to relate to other men. To comfort them in desperate times. And in that relation, God is glorified.
That’s the pressing mandate in the wake of this horrific natural disaster.
And in the end, we know that God is neither indifferent nor ignorant of human suffering.
He put his son, Christ, on the cross to absorb the wrath of God we deserve and on the third day rose from the dead in a glorified body to announce that, indeed, it is okay to trust him and that death–the ultimate suffering–has been defeated…
And no matter the amount of pain we’ve personally experienced or torment we’ve endured, all that will one day be wiped away when we enter God’s everlasting presence.
That, ironically, is the ultimate answer to the problem of pain. And remember, I’m the worst person–the least qualified–in this case, to answer the question.
But it’s being asked. And I’m offering what little I have. Let me know what you think.
The Puddle: An Elegant but Not-Perfect Analogy
When it comes to criticizing the fine-tuning argument, Douglas Adam’s puddle analogy takes the cake.
Adams first unveiled this analogy at a 1998 lecture at Digital Biota.
Since then it’s become the darling of the scientific community.
Richard Dawkins quoted it during an eulogy for Adams.
P Z Meyers been known to toss it around.
And occassionally skeptics and atheists will trot it out here on this blog.
Case in point: During an interview with an atheist named Billy, I asked, “What do you think of the fine-tuning argument?”
Billy gave a thoughtful, but rather unforgettable answer to my question, especially since someone else chimed in with this piece of snarky brevity: “Nonsense. Google Douglas Adams ‘puddle argument.”
That caught my attention because he seemed to imply Adam’s “puddle argument” was a show stopper.
I have to admit: I was spellbound.
What Is the Puddle Analogy?
Unfortunately, it took me about seven months to actually get around to looking up this “puddle argument.”
But I finally did.
In fact, I not only read the analogy, but I also watched a Dawkin’s video, read Adam’s original transcript in which the analogy was embedded…and even skimmed an objection.
But I didn’t get it. I was at a loss to what he meant by “non-sense.” And how exactly was this a show stopper?
Adams analogy is emotionally compelling [which I'll explain in a minute], no doubt. But not sure what it proves. Or why it’s so convincing.
Are people putting more weight on it than it can hold? That was my hunch. So I decided to find out.
Asking More Questions about the Puddle Analogy
The following day I emailed the original poster and let him know I finally did what he told me to do but wasn’t sure what he was getting at. I asked him if he could clarify. Here’s his response:
I think it quite accurately exposes the foolishness of the fine-tuning argument without any appeal to emotion in the same way as Russell’s teapot or the FSM expose the flaws of other religious arguments.
Okay. But how? He replied:
By showing that fitting an environment well is no reason to think you were designed for it, it designed for you, or that both were designed with each other in mind. The analogy of the puddle shows that quite well since clearly holes aren’t intelligently designed for puddles, regardless of what a puddle might like to think.
Okay. That makes sense. It illustrates that well. But how does it prove anything? I didn’t think that was the job of a parable. In truth, it’s not.
The Purpose of a Parable
What is a parable? A parable is nothing more than a short tale illustrating a moral lesson or some truth.
Think Paley’s Watchmaker or Jesus’ Prodigal Son or Aesop’s Fables.
But the parable themselves are not truth. They illustrate some truth you already hold. In other words, parables and analogies are built on presuppositions…
You are assuming something is already true. All you are doing with a parable is helping somebody understand that presupposition.
Let me give you an example.
An Example of a Biblical Parable
In the Prodigal Son parable the loving response of the human father to the son who returns after a period of wasteful living is an allegory of the love of God for the repentant sinner.
Our presupposition is that God exists.
In Adams’ puddle analogy, our presupposition is that the universe isn’t designed for life.
In both cases, we need to prove our presuppositions. A parable doesn’t do that on it’s own. And that’s what I mean when I say a parable can’t carry the weight of an argument but is instead an emotionally satisfying story that demonstrates something we already believe.
Another Problem with Parables
Furthermore, just like Paley’s Watchmaker analogy, Adams’ puddle argument makes arbitrary designations.
Why a puddle in a hole? Why not a blue jay finding another bird’s nest? Or a billiard ball falling into a pool pocket?
The variations are infinite.
Bottom line, I sincerely don’t think Adam’s intended his analogy to be adopted as a proof.
He’s smarter than that.
He intended it to be a moral lesson. He said as much when he concluded his analogy: “I think this may be something we need to be on the watch out for.”
Indeed, the world gives us mixed messages. And we often see what we want to see. This applies for both theist and atheist.
So I couldn’t agree more with Adams’ warning. But what do you think? Did I miss something? I’d like to develop this thought further.
Secret Sin: The Hideous Corpse in the Closet
**Guest post by Daniel Wilson of Desire Spiritual Growth.**
You know what it’s like to struggle with secret sin that has a death-grip around your throat…
Secret sin gnaws at your conscience more than anything else…
You feel like a hypocrite with moral standards fluctuating with the presence or absence of an audience…
Endless cycles of determined resolve and dismal failure continue as you try to break off the secret sin…
Your soul has some sickened bent toward feeding at the swine trough even though every taste leaves you with a regretful hangover…
Intimacy with God is almost nonexistent because no two lovers can remain relationally intimate while one plays the harlot…
You may rightfully doubt your own salvation because–despite having gained a lot of knowledge about God and the gospel–you look back on the past few years and see little victory over secret sin…
And you are weary of new techniques and three-step processes to bring freedom.
They never work.
If that sounds like an insider’s description, it’s because I left tracks in mud on the miserable path of secret sin.
Secret sin creates an inconsistency between our outer and inner lives.
Hypocrisy. We do behind mentally or physically closed doors what we would never do out in the light. This shows that whatever is motivating our public deeds is not strong–or not relevant–enough to govern our private deeds.
Where Does the Struggle with Secret Sin Originate?
In general, we sin because we are sinners. Until our sanctification is complete, we will not cease to wrestle with sin.
We are seduced by promises that sin cannot deliver on. We struggle to believe that sin is profitless and costly and thus we are blindly attracted to something that is repulsive in reality.
In particular, our heart is fertile ground for secret sin when we use righteousness to gain approval. We become concerned only with outward appearance. That opens the door for secret sins because they are hidden from view and do not affect public approval ratings.
Struggling with secret sin is an indicator that our outward righteousness is primarily motivated by a love for man. If our outward righteousness was motivated by a love for God, then we would use the same motivation to live righteous private lives.
This is a heart problem: love for God is not filling our heart, enabling and motivating our deeds publicly or privately.
Jesus gives us a profile of this problem in His diagnoses of the Pharisaical heart. The Pharisees did all of their deeds to be seen by men. That’s all they wanted. Concerned only with outward appearance, their hearts were far from the Lord. They were like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness (Matthew 23:5, 26-27; Mark 6:7).
Contrast that with a former Pharisee whose heart was changed–the Apostle Paul:
For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10
The difference between convenient obedience and full obedience is a matter of where our heart’s affections lie. We either serve and love God above all, or we serve and love man. And only one of those two loves can enable and motivate us to reject secret sin.
The Unsurprising Yet Singularly Effective Solution
Where do we get such a love for God that enables and motivates us to obey?
“If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” John 14:15
We are not naturally filled with love for God. Nor are we the filler that we may fill ourselves. We are helpless to bring about the required heart change so that we can overcome secret sin.
On Our Knees
Gripped and crushed by our powerlessness, we are finally where we ought to be. We are ready to cry out for God to fill us with love for Him. Let Him break, mold and fill us as He sees fit.
“Let thy personal weakness, O Christian, be an argument to make thee pray earnestly to thy God for help…Let not the doctrine that you, unaided, can do nothing, make you sleep; but let it be a goad in your side to drive you with an awful earnestness to Israel’s strong Helper.” – CH Spurgeon
“By the law is the knowledge of sin’ [Rom 3:20], so the word of grace comes only to those who are distressed by a sense of sin and tempted to despair.” Martin Luther
“The loss of all confidence in one’s self is the first essential in the believer’s growth in grace.” A. W. Pink
What is our desperate prayer request? That the Lord will direct our hearts to the love of God and the steadfastness of Christ so that we will do the things that we have been commanded, for our good and His glory.
But the Lord is faithful. He will establish you and guard you against the evil one. And we have confidence in the Lord about you, that you are doing and will do the things that we command. May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ. 2 Thessalonians 3:3-5
[Also see Ephesians 3:14-21]
That is the gospel: God requiring of us what we cannot supply on our own. And then giving us the supply.
Does anyone wish to overcome secret sin, to be rid of it at last? Then take hold of the gospel daily. You will find no victory as you wage war against sin until your heart is filled with love for God.
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