Hmm, this thread's splitting in half a dozen different directions. Let me do a drive-by on a few topics.
To Tricord:
Goodness, I don't know that much cosmology. Most of my experience with the Anthropic Principle has been in a philosophical context. Be that as it may (and flamingly ignorant as this proves me), all the talk about parallel universes strikes me as pretty bogus. There can't really be evidence for that sort of thing, can there?
To Shoku:
A few posts ago (not relevant any more, but this sort of thing interests me), you were arguing that the ancient Jews were polytheistic (at least, for certain values of "theist"). Your logic seemed a bit odd to me. You said that "A 'god' can be anyone who has power or authority over someone else." and then argued that multiple people are called 'gods' in the Bible. Isn't that essentially saying that the ancient Jews believed that there were people in power over others. Hardly remarkable! And hardly warrant for calling a society polythestic. I'm curious, though, if you meant more by the statement. (I ask because I study Biblical interpretation, and it seems to me that interpreting those passages as literal 'gods' and defining 'god' to mean 'anyone with power' is a very odd method of interpretation indeed. Isn't it simpler to just assume the term is a metaphor? Unless, of course, you meant something else entirely.)
In any case, I think it's fairly evident that the way the Jews are portrayed in the Bible is as monotheists--at least, in principle. Sort of the same way that our society is scientifically minded--in principle. Sometimes that's wildly wrong on a popular level...
To MehYam:
You said that what I hear in prayer is most likely myself, and suggested that it comforts me like a teddy bear--not as the result of some supernatural force, but just because I find the thought of prayer comforting. This is hard to respond to shortly because the subject is so big.
It is often the case that when someone has no experience with something, they think it's simple and easy to explain. Creationists often think evolution is simple--a theory that can be fully taught in ten minutes. Atheists often think the Bible is simple--something you can read cover to cover in a week, and understand as much as there is to know. Math is full of theorems that seem utterly simple until you try to prove them. And people who put prayer down to psychology always strike me that way--as explaining in simple terms something they have no real experience with.
I don't think the experience of the Christian can be dismissed so lightly. God changes people. Prayer changes people. Sometimes when I pray, I hear God, and I don't think I'm making it up--he's too big for that. And I've learned things through prayer that have changed my thinking, and changed my life--a lot of times.
I don't mean to defend things too deeply, and I know subjective experiences are things you can't share. But here are three examples that should at least shake you up a bit.
Story #1:
When I was in high school, I participated in a program in my church in which I was matched up with an older woman and we developed a friendship--we were supposed to spend time together, and she was supposed to be sort of a mentor to me. Sandy and I never really did spend much time together--in fact, over the course of the year we were supposed to be spending together, we only had one long conversation.
The night before, I had gone to a friend's birthday party, and found some (mildly) illegal things going on there that I didn't want to be a part of--and worse, my best friend of three years (and sorta kinda boyfriend) was in the thick of it. I was devastated (you know... high school... emotions run high), and stormed out. And then the next day I didn't know what to do. Couldn't talk to my parents, because I was embarrassed about having ended up at the party in the first place, and... you know... boy stuff. And lo and behold, my friend who hadn't spoken to me in four months calls me out of the blue and asks if I need to talk. Surprised, I answer yes, and she commented that she had been praying and had a feeling she should call.
So we went out and talked. And it was helpful--she helped me put things in perspective, and advised me to patch things up with my friend, and basically assured me that the world wasn't falling apart. (Oh, I know, high school drama... give me a break, I was 14 at the time.)
Coincidence that the one day she decides to call me with a feeling we should talk is that one? Meh, I guess. Could be. Seems cool, though, doesn't it?
Story #2:
When my dad was a youth pastor at a church some years ago, the staff had a planning meeting at the pastor's house. My dad rode his motercycle up to the house, only to find that no one was there. Confused, he prayed about it, and heard from God, "Get on your motorcycle and ride a bit." So he did. And as he rode through town he was given directions--turn left here, stop here, and eventually came to a restaurant. He was told "go inside and look around"--and feeling foolish he did. Seeing no one he recognized, he came back outside and was told again, "go inside and look around." He did, and lo and behold, there were the pastors having the meeting.
Was that a coincidence? It was a long shot if it was. Did he make that up or exaggerate or something when he told the story? Possibly. I doubt it.
Story #3:
My pastor Heath told a story once, about how he had been driving, and had some bags of groceries in his car, and on a freeway off-ramp he saw a homeless guy, and God told him to give him the groceries. It actually took three commands before Heath gave in and did it--and the guy was amazed, he'd been praying for God to do something for him. And then when Heath got where he was going, a guy from the church there walks up to him and hands him an envelope full of money, saying "God told me to give you this." Heath told him the story of what had happened on the way, and the guy laughed and said, "Yeah, I figured it was something like that."
To quote some famous guy--I forget who--"Coincidence? Perhaps. But the coincidences happen more often when I pray."
Do I suppose these are proofs that God is out there and gives people direction? Certainly not--these sorts of stories are anecdotal at best, and only one of them was my personal experience (though the other two were people I personally know). And the probabilities of those sorts of things happening by chance aren't really all
that low. But still, it should surprise you a bit. That sort of thing happens occasionally--and if it's unusual, it's nothing extraordinary.
People always go nuts over those stories, because they contain an element of the objective--yet the most powerful evidence to me that God is there when I pray isn't objective at all, but subjective. It's who he is. What he says. How he changes me. How he
has changed me--who I am today is a totally different person than I was before I truly knew him, and I can even mark the date when I changed.
You think prayer is easily explained by comparing it to a teddy bear? I don't think so. I think most people that say that have never experienced it--have never gone to God honestly looking for him, have never nurtured a relationship with him, have probably never even been very close to someone who has. I don't know. I could be wrong. It's best to be humble about this sort of thing, but honestly... I can't see it.
Interjecting to the whole discussion about creation and evolution:
I have been studying the origins debate very closely over the last couple years, and a funny thing has happened to me. I grew up a young-earth creationist. I later became an old-earth creationists. I read about the intelligent design movement and loved it, and then as I studied it became skeptical toward it, and now count it quite flawed. The more I have studied, it seems, the less I know. I don't claim to know anything anymore--not even what I would have so boldly said two years ago, that I didn't think evolution was true. I have held almost every possible view, and these days I hold no view.
Origins remains a puzzle to me. I tried to solve it, and found I knew a lot less than I thought I did. Still, all that studying hasn't been fruitless--I've learned a few things.
I've learned that reality goes a lot deeper than people who debate on the internet have any clue about. I've learned that a lot of people on all sides are badly scientifically illiterate, and don't know it. And I've learned that the Christians are typically the worst offenders here. The church is superstitious, illiterate, and fearful when it comes to origins, and it breaks my heart. I wish it wasn't so--and I wish it wasn't so widespread. (It's not just origins--the worst of it is, the church as a whole is ignorant, superstitious, and fearful when it comes to
how to read the Bible!)
All that is to say, I honestly don't know what happened, don't know where life came from historically. But at least I know enough to know that I don't know, which is more than most people know on the topic.
To Bettina (and regaurding the whole discussion about the evil and corrupt world):
The world
is and ugly place, and it's an old argument that goes from that to declaring that God either isn't there or isn't worth talking to. There's a difference between having the explanation for a bit of evil, and making one up.
Some bits, we have the explanation. Some 2000 years ago, a man who was nothing worse than a moral teacher--an innocent man--was killed in an awfully painful way. By any standard you choose, that's evil. And yet it doesn't bother anyone wondering if God exists--at least, not people with some background in Christian thinking--because they know the explanation. He died to save all of humanity. There was a greater, good purpose behind the evil, and furthermore we know what it is because God has told us.
Some other things, we have no explanation. When a villiage is overrun by a cruel army that terrorizes the population, literally killing babies in their mothers' arms, we don't know why. When a hurricane strikes and destroys a sweet old woman's husband, home, and livelihood, we don't know why. When an old man strips a young boy naked, turns him loose in the woods, and hunts him like an animal with dogs and a gun, we don't know why. When a convict escapes from prison and terrorizes, rapes, and eventually kills a young couple on their honeymoon, we don't know why. Those of us who believe in God know there must be some reason--and often the temptation is to make things up--but we don't really know, for a lot of things.
If you ask me, free will only gets you so far. People do some pretty warped things to each other--sometimes you wonder if it's even worth free will. But then above and beyond that, some people are just unlucky. What about those who burn to death in forest fires, caused by lighting--humanity hardly caused that! And why did God make humans the way they are, anyway, if they're so prone to being evil? And what about Satan--didn't God make him, too? And what about hell? Didn't God make that--and doesn't he send people there?
A lot of people think they have answers for this stuff, and a lot of those answers are just speculation. Most stuff, we don't actually know why God allowed it--because he hasn't told us. So we guess. I sure don't claim to know everything, but there are some things I do know.
I know that this world isn't the end-product of everything God's doing. Life here is temporary, but life in heaven is eternal; this world exists to set up that one, I think. And I suspect that a lot of things that are evil in this life accomplish good for the next one. For some things, I know that's the case--people who cause me pain often also cause me to draw closer to God, and that's actually much more important. Pain's just temporary.
I know that part of what God's trying to accomplish is to create mature, good followers, and ultimately a good people for himself. (Someone I saw recently put it--"What's wrong with the world? Nothing. It was meant to be a proving ground for God's people, and it's serving that purpose quite well. What's wrong with the
people on the other hand...") And I know that evil is a necessary counterpart to strong, mature goodness. You can't have forgiveness without injury, you can't have compassion without grievous pain, and you can't have courage without danger. Heroes don't come from idyllic places and peaceful times, they show up in the midst of war, pain, and grand evil. You know how children can't mature if their parents are over-protective? I think people are the same way. I think we need to experience some pain and evil--and a lot of it--to become the sort of people God means us to be.
I know that part of what God plans for evil is to eventually destroy it. The Bible even says that somewhere--God has created everything, even the wicked for the "day of evil"--i.e., to take vengeance. I know that evil won't endure forever, and that in the end God plans to enact justice out of the mess that the world's left in. The Bible says that a lot--the Lord will repay. Whatever damage evil does, he promises to one day make it right. And I know that several times the Bible hints that God gives evil a chance to grow, to flourish, to absolutely prove itself evil before he steps in and destroys it.
I know that the pain in the world makes God sad, too--so whatever reasons he has for allowing it, they must be good ones. Jesus was overflowing with compassion, and constantly healing and taking care of people. He wept at the death of his friend. In the old testament, God mourns with giant tears over the broken state of his people--brokenness that his own punishment has brought on them. I know God mourns.
There are other things I could say--things indeed that professional philosophers say, or that I say when I'm feeling more philosophical, and there's one thing these explanations have in common: they answer the question and still feel empty. Sure, it logically explains things well enough if evil could exist to make good people greater, or if God will one day make it right. That doesn't help when you're facing some very real bit of it and wondering, why does there have to be
so much of it? Look at this child born with half a brain and diseased, who will live a short, painful, meaningless life and die. God will someday make that right? HOW?
The philosophical answers don't answer because the question isn't looking for a philosophical answer. And that's because the question isn't about reason after all, even though everybody seems to think it is. It's about faith.
I have a wonderful husband who I know is faithful to me. How do I know he is faithful to me? Because I know what sort of person he is, and I know he has always been faithful to me. So if I see him flying around with a pilot named "ILuvBettina," I don't wonder if he's flirting with another girl. He flies away for a night and day to go to his old best friend's wedding, and I don't wonder what he's doing while he's away. If I know he spends a lot of time alone with his (female) boss, is very good friends with her, and talks to her about a lot of serious things, I don't wonder if there's something between them. And why don't I? Because I have faith in him.
Faith is trusting in something that deserves to be trusted. I may not rationally know why my husband chooses the pilot names he does. I may not rationally have any way to know what my husband is doing when he's out of town. I may not rationally ever be able to determine the content of my husband's conversations with his boss. But I don't have to rationally know because I trust him--and furthermore he deserves that trust.
You see, a question like this isn't about having a rational explanation for everything. It's about believing that the person is trustworthy. To a woman whose husband has already cheated on her, every email, every lunch break, every contact with other women is suspect and requires a rational explanation. To a woman who has faith in her husband, he could disappear all night and though she would worry about his safety, she would never worry about his faithfulness. The difference is not that one knows his reasoning and the other doesn't. The difference is faith.
For me, that's where the only satisfying and peaceful answer lies. I may not know why God allowed a small child to be beaten, raped, and killed. But I know he is the God who mourns with us when we suffer. I know he's the same God who loves us so much that we can't hurt him enough to drive him away. I know he's the God who embraced Israel, mourned her hurts, desperately desired a great future for her, and watched her continue to fail and hurt him. I know he's the God who gladly laid down the life of his own son to save those who hated him. I know he's the God who speaks of rejoicing over his people with dancing, prizing them like a treasure, and quieting them with his love. And I know he's trying to accomplish some grand things in the world--and that the process often causes him pain.
Is that enough for me to trust that he knows what he's doing? That my own petty hurts and gripes are worth whatever he's trying to accomplish? That all the suffering in the world will some day be made right?
I think so. Some people don't. I say it depends on how well you know God, but for me, with what I've seen, I have enough faith in him. I am very, very sure he is a passionate, compassionate, and loving God. So what I don't know, and what I can't explain doesn't haunt me. Does it haunt you? Then you have a choice. You can simply decide that the pain you see is bad enough that faith in God is unjustified--it's just gone so far that he can't be good. If you go that route, you stop looking for answers from God, and start looking for answers elsewhere. Or you can try to learn more about God, try to understand him, and see if the faith he inspires outweighs the pain you've seen. I guess I personally took the second route, and I came back with faith in God, but my word is only good for so much. And my world may be different than yours--so even if you go that way, your mileage may vary.
But there's my answer for you. There are philosophical answers, and they're good for certain things--but in the end, it's about faith. For the believer, that's where peace on the topic comes from.
[... heh, some drive by. I need to go to bed now.]
