In my last post I discussed how evolution as an unguided, impersonal, and material process cannot do what evolutionists claim it can do; it cannot create anything. A much better explanation, infinitely so in my estimation, is an omniscient, omnipotent, wildly creative supreme being. Specifically the life giving Triune God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) of Scripture. It shouldn’t surprise us that the first five words of God’s verbal, historical revelation to mankind are, “In the beginning God created . . . .” It should also not surprise us that evolution defined as a totally natural process, no God required, is the tip of the spear of Satan’s strategy to undermine belief and trust in Almighty God. God as Creator is foundational to every aspect of redemptive history. That’s why affirming it to our kids throughout their lives is also foundational to their own redemptive history.
In a recent conversation with an agnostic, I was consistently amazed by this person’s insistence that intimate objects have “purpose.” He didn’t use the word, but that was what he described. The cell, he averred, does such and such, and creates this and so, all with a dexterity and design only a personal agent could impart, which of course he denied.
When evolutionists say that evolution can do or create certain things, they imply without the least proof that evolution is a creative force without the need for a Creator. It is self-evident, for them, that the universe is a closed system that runs on it’s own. But exactly how plausible is such an assertion (it obviously could never be proved)?
If man had his way, the plan of redemption would be an endless and bloody conflict. In reality, salvation was bought not by Jesus’ fist, but by His nail-pierced hands; not by muscle but by love; not by vengeance but by forgiveness; not by force but by sacrifice. Jesus Christ our Lord surrendered in order that He might win; He destroyed His enemies by dying for them and conquered death by allowing death to conquer Him.
On a recent trip home to see family and friends, I got into interesting conversations with two gentlemen who are self-described agnostics. I realized something as I thought about these conversations. My interlocutors seemed to believe they could not know the religious stuff I was talking about with any certainty, so why bother with it at all. As we talked it hit me: Their objection to Christianity is rooted in epistemology! They probably wouldn’t even know the word, but there is it nonetheless.
In my last post, I defined faith, correctly, as trust based on adequate evidence, contrasting it with our secular, postmodern culture’s definition as what you need when there isn’t enough evidence. Big difference. In this post I will take a brief look at how we experience faith and doubt in daily life, and in our relationship with God. While the objects are different, the nature of the thing remains the same. Religious “faith” and everyday “faith” are the same because absolute certainty doesn’t exist, and we must act, or not, based evidence presented to us.
Sociologist Peter Berger has been an influential thinker and writer in my development as a Christian apologist. I have an entire chapter in my book on plausibility, something rare in apologetics circles, inspired by his books The Sacred Canopy and The Social Construction of Reality. I heard of a more recent book (those are from the 60’s) of Berger’s from the great Albert Mohler in his excellent Thinking in Public podcast. The book, In Praise of Doubt: How to Have Convictions Without Becoming a Fanatic, has some excellent insights, but it’s also the kind of book I often want to throw against the wall.
I can imagine you thinking at this moment, What kind of person would ask such a stupid question! Hang with me, and you’ll realize it’s not such a stupid question after all.
In my previous post I shared an Alice in Wonderland adventure I had with a postmodernist. As always in such encounters, one thinks of things one could of or should have said afterward. At one point I shifted the conversation to something called the moral argument. Simply stated, this means that the best explanation for morality, the sense that all human beings have of right and wrong and justice, can best be explained by the existence of a personal God. The postmodernist is a relativist, meaning morality is whatever an individual person or culture thinks it is. For them, there is no objective standard of right and wrong which exists outside of their own feelings or perceptions. By happy happenstance I was able to share a perfect example of postmodern relativism just this morning with my son.
If you are not familiar with the phrase, “down the rabbit hole,” it comes from the 19th Century Lewis Carroll book, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Young Alice goes down a rabbit hole and experiences a world that is upside down, inside out, and awfully confusing. According to Google, the phrase has come to “refer to a bizarre, confusing, or nonsensical situation or environment, typically one from which it is difficult to extricate oneself.” I was reminded of the world down the rabbit hole as I was recently having a conversation with a quintessential postmodernist.
For 220 plus years in America, the peaceful transition of power has happened every four or eight years. Whether from the Federalist Party to the Anti-Federalists, or the Democratic Party to the Whigs, or the Republican to the Democratic Party, in the history of the world there has never been such a continuous succession of peaceful power. Wherever one stands in the current political environment, it is a thing to behold. It is also fascinating to behold the difference between those who were on the losing side eight years ago, and those on the losing side this time. Like everything (literally) in life, there are lessons here to teach our kids about the biblical view of reality.
Almighty God, just because He is almighty, needs no support. The picture of a nervous, ingratiating God fawning over men to win their favor is not a pleasant one; yet if we look at the popular conception of God, that is precisely what we see.
Twentieth Century Christianity has put God on charity. So lofty is our opinion of ourselves that we find it quite easy, not to say enjoyable, to believe that we are necessary to God. But the truth is that God is not greater for our being, nor would He be less if we did not exist. That we do exist is altogether of God’s free determination, not by our desert nor by divine necessity.
—A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy