The Face of Love

Abortion is evil. Unremittingly, unceasingly so. In the same way that slavery is not justified by legitimate economic concerns, the reasons used to attempt to justify abortion do not change that it is evil.

And yet, it is not simple. Millions of women resort to abortion as a way out of desperate situations, or because of some great evil that has been inflicted on them. When discussing abortion, this cannot be ignored. What are we to do with those children conceived through rape, or who are destined to be born into abject poverty, or who are simply unwanted and unloved by their own parents?

Again, abortion is evil. It is not the answer. To destroy the child as punishment for the sins of their father, or to deny them a chance at life because of the situation of their parents, simply heaps evil upon evil. It compounds injustice, and is not a legitimate solution to genuinely tragic situations.

There is no justice or healing to be found in the slaughter of innocents.

But if we are not to respond to evil with evil, how do we respond? What is our solution for the mother who thinks that her only escape from terrible circumstance is the murder of her child? What is our answer to the abortionist who truly believes they are doing what is good? And how do we respond to those who have repented of this evil - who truly believe what they have done is wrong, but are now haunted by guilt?

The answer, of course, is love. Not an ethereal, inactive love. Not a false concept of love based entirely around emotions. A living, working love, that provides help in need, and grace for the fallen.

One way this love is expressed is through crisis pregnancy centres. These are an incredible resource for women who find themselves in seemingly hopeless situations. They will provide financial, physical, emotional, and spiritual support, both to aid women in difficult pregnancies, and those who have suffered the anguish of abortion and are seeking healing. The staunchest pro-life supporters I know are all involved in organisations of this sort: seeking life and love not only for the child, but the parents.

Crisis pregnancy centres have been accused of being "fake clinics" by those who support (and perform) abortions, but how much better an answer it is to suffering than death! This is true support, true hope, and true care: to be willing to help women in their time of need, while not sacrificing their children on the altar of convenience.

To love is to lay down our lives for others - not lay down the lives of their children.

Abortion is not just evil, but it is ultimately a hopeless thing. Where there is life, there is hope - yet it takes that away from the children, never giving them a chance to live for themselves. Crisis pregnancy centres promise life and hope for the whole family.

However, while they are incredibly valuable, there is an even greater answer to evil. It is the answer given by Alyosha to Ivan, in the excerpt from The Brothers Karamazov in my last post.

“Brother,” said Alyosha suddenly, with flashing eyes, “you said just now, is there a being in the whole world who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything. You have forgotten Him, and on Him is built the edifice, and it is to Him they cry aloud, ‘Thou art just, O Lord, for Thy ways are revealed!’ ”

Our ultimate hope for the lives of many innocents is the life of the One innocent, who freely gave of Himself that we might live. The One who offers not just life on this earth, but life eternal.

To those who find themselves considering abortions, and those who have already had them or performed them, I urge you: turn to Jesus, the Saviour and Judge of the world, and plea for mercy and help. He is gracious, and will give abundantly to those who ask. There is no greater hope, and no greater answer to evil.

Turn too to the body of Christ in this world. Those who truly serve God will extend love towards you freely, no matter your past or present circumstances. Find a faithful church, and ask for support. It will be given, without judgement or expectation of recompense.

This is also a call to the Church itself. Do more - we must do more! As long as the evil of abortion continues in the world, we need to fight it. To do nothing is to do too little. Whether it be through prayer, through protesting, or reaching out to those who have been afflicted by abortion, we must seek and strive to shine the love of Christ into the world. It may seem a hopeless mission, but our hope is in Jesus, in whom all authority in heaven and on earth rests.

Abortion is a dreadful scar on the world. It is a terrible wordless question, screamed by the millions who have been sacrificed for reasons they could never understand.

Love is the answer. Jesus is the answer: a healing for the wounds that sin inflicts on creation, and mercy and grace for those who seek Him.

He is the face of love to whom we must turn. And, in the words of C. S. Lewis:

“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?”

The Face of Evil

Do you know what evil looks like?

There are differing views on whether "evil" truly exists, and whether we can really know it. Some might say that morality is relative, others, that it's simply non-existent. Many more hold to some form of an absolute morality, that transcends cultural values. A morality to be sought after, not created.

I believe that those who claim evil is no more than an abstract concept are tragically mistaken, and demonstrably so, precisely because we know exactly what evil looks like. There are terrible tragedies throughout human history, brought about by the actions of depraved people, that are universally condemned as not simply unpleasant, but in direct violation of a real moral code. The right and wrong of genocide is not a matter of preference. Slavery is not wrong because we believe it to be so: we believe that it is wrong because it is evil in its essence.

We know what evil looks like, because we have seen it.

So why is it that, looking back at history, we freely and fiercely condemn the atrocities of the past, yet turn a blind eye to an evil that matches every one of them, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life?

Why do we slaughter our children?

Why?

How?

How can we dare to do this?

There is no question that those killed through abortion are human: fully, utterly human in the most literal sense of the word. They are genetically no different. The only difference is in development. We say they are disposable because they are different from us. They don't look like us - like how we think people should be.

Does that sound familiar to you?

There are only two possible sides in the question of abortion. First, that it is utterly inconsequential, a thing not worth considering: discarding excess weight, as it were.

Or it is murder. If it is not murder, it is not wrong, but if there is any moral value on the life of the foetus - if this human life bears the slightest importance simply by virtue of being human - then abortion can be no more or less than murder, and the tragedy of abortion easily compares to the worst genocides in human history.

The only way to justify abortion is by taking a subset of humanity, and deeming it sub-human. By creating a separate category for them, and saying "because you do not meet our perception of those who deserve human rights, you are of no worth".

Abortion has more in common with the atrocities of history than body count. The justifications are exactly the same.

How can we dare to do this?

You may speak of reproductive rights - but on what grounds is abortion a right, when it directly contravenes the most fundamental human right that exists: the right to life itself? How can it possibly be right to have special dispensation to murder the most vulnerable, at the time when they should be safest, and most cared for?

There is much talk of the pro-life movement being fundamentally misogynist. It's claimed that those who fight abortion do so for no other reason than hatred or repression of women. This is no more or less than a terrible lie. We fight because we see life, and know its value. Our motivation is the same as that of William Wilberforce, or the heroes of the world wars. We fight for justice, and we fight against evil. We fight for life. We fight for the women who have no voice, and whose own family fights against them.

How can anyone dare to do any less?

Abortion is an attack on society from the inside. It is a terrible thing that sets mothers at war with their children, and tears nations apart from within. It is an absolute perversion of the incredible gift of giving life that women have been granted. It is completely, totally, utterly evil.

I would like to share an excerpt from Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov.

“But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That's a question I can't answer. For the hundredth time I repeat, there are numbers of questions, but I've only taken the children, because in their case what I mean is so unanswerably clear. Listen! If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? It's beyond all comprehension why they should suffer, and why they should pay for the harmony. Why should they, too, furnish material to enrich the soil for the harmony of the future? I understand solidarity in sin among men. I understand solidarity in retribution, too; but there can be no such solidarity with children. And if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their fathers' crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension.”

The death of a child - of even one single innocent infant - is too great a price to pay for whatever perceived benefits abortion may bring.

My plea for you is to see this. To recognise abortion for what it is: evil. To stand up against this, no matter the cost, and fight for life. Fight for the defenceless. If you support abortion, then please think of the lives that have been lost, and ask yourself: has it been worth it? Have the 1.3 billion deaths been worth it?

Has one single death been worth it?

This is what evil looks like - what it has looked like for all time.

Let me finish with one more excerpt - one with a message of hope.

“Rebellion? I am sorry you call it that,” said Ivan earnestly. “One can hardly live in rebellion, and I want to live. Tell me yourself, I challenge you—answer. Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last, but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature—that baby beating its breast with its fist, for instance—and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me, and tell the truth.”

“No, I wouldn't consent,” said Alyosha softly.

“And can you admit the idea that men for whom you are building it would agree to accept their happiness on the foundation of the unexpiated blood of a little victim? And accepting it would remain happy for ever?”

“No, I can't admit it. Brother,” said Alyosha suddenly, with flashing eyes, “you said just now, is there a being in the whole world who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything. You have forgotten Him, and on Him is built the edifice, and it is to Him they cry aloud, ‘Thou art just, O Lord, for Thy ways are revealed!’ ”

Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief

In Psalm 22, David cries out to the Lord - "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And, thousands of years later, this lament was echoed by his descendant - Jesus Christ, God incarnate come to both live and die among us - as He felt the full weight of God's wrath against sin.

We live in a world of suffering. There is not a person alive who has not felt pain or sorrow of some kind. As we find ourselves seemingly overcome, it can be easy to echo the Psalmist's cry in turn. Has God forsaken us? Why can our own bodies, or those of our loved ones, be afflicted with deadly diseases? Why do thousands die in natural disasters, and why can one person be so stricken with despair that they take their own life? Why do we suffer?

There is, unfortunately, no easy answer to this question. We live in a world of suffering because we live in a world of sin. A world stricken by rebellion against its Creator. We are sinful people in a sinful world, and our pain is a consequence of that. In fact, we are the ones who have forsaken God.

And yet, for all this, He has never forsaken us.

In the very same psalm that opens by saying that God has left him, the psalmist says:

"I will tell of your name to my brothers;
    in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
 You who fear the Lord, praise him!
    All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him,
    and stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!
 For he has not despised or abhorred
    the affliction of the afflicted,
and he has not hidden his face from him,
    but has heard, when he cried to him."

He knows that, even when despair is greatest and God seems farthest, his salvation is assured. God has not despised the afflicted, or hidden His face - He is a God who hears and helps. Who lends strength when we have none of our own.

So we know that, even in our suffering, God is there. But how can we know that? What assurance do we have that our faith is justified? And why would God even do that for us if we are rebellious and sinful?

To understand that, we must look at someone who suffered despite committing no sin.

We read in Isaiah 53:3-5 of:

"...a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
 Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
 But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed."

Consider those words for a moment.

Man of sorrows.

Acquainted with grief.

This prophecy points to Jesus - to his life, and to the moment that He suffered on the cross. He was perfect, completely without sin, and yet he took the entirety of God's fury upon himself. He was acquainted with grief - not a cruel, unfeeling god, not caring for his people's plight, but one who knew intimately our suffering. A man of sorrows.

Pierced for our transgressions.

Crushed for our iniquities.

In the midst of our sufferings, we can rely on this sure hope and knowledge: that though we are sinners, born to suffer and die, there is one who suffered for us. One who bore pain greater than any we could ever endure - and that we will never have to experience because of what he did.

With his wounds we are healed.

This is love, and this is our assurance.

Our hope is not in this life, but in life after death. This, too, we are assured of as Jesus says in John 14:1-3 "Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." And Paul tells us in Romans 8:18 that "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."

In Revelation 21, we read this:

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'"

This is our strength, and that of the psalmist. Not that God will free us from suffering in this life. But that it will be nothing compared to that which is to come. And "when the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

'Death is swallowed up in victory.'
 'O death, where is your victory?
    O death, where is your sting?'" - 1 Corinthians 15:54-55

It is Finished

Is there some accomplishment or deed in your life that you are particularly proud of?

Completion of a difficult task can be immensely satisfying. While there is certainly joy to be found in the journey, it is often interspersed with hardships, which can sometimes make you question whether the struggle is worth it. But when you see them in the light of the end result, then you may realise that there is no aspect of your journey that you would give up - if only because they make the completion that much more rewarding.

"Completion" is actually a remarkably powerful word, and perhaps one that we do not give enough credit. It speaks of both the fulfilment of our labour and the cessation of our struggles, and brings them together in a word that takes the good and the bad, and makes them into something better.

But there is a catch.

The problem is that true completion is unattainable in our lives. The most monumental accomplishments or stunning works of art all have one fatal flaw. No matter how permanent they may seem in one, two, or even twenty generations, they all need to be maintained. Whether it's physical or emotional, social or personal, all of our achievements need to be preserved somehow. Sometimes the effort required may be so minuscule that we don't even notice, but sometimes it may take all of our effort to keep what we created. The struggle will continue in some form for as long as we live.

The sad fact is that completion is an illusion. A tempting, yet ephemeral concept beyond human grasp.

At least... that's almost true.

Both the unattainability and the allure of completion point to something greater. The glorious truth is that we were never meant to reach fulfilment in this world, nor were we intended to reach it through our own efforts. We are shattered souls in a broken world, doomed to fall short - but Jesus has won the battle for us. No matter how much we strive to something infinitely beyond us, or how much we fall, we are given the comfort that our ultimate completion and fulfilment is the gift of grace, imputed to us without deserving. To seek satisfaction in this life is to condemn ourselves to a fight that we could never win, but that burden has been lifted.

It is in knowing this that true comfort is found. A bleak landscape of hardships is transformed into a path to something greater. The ups and downs of life fade away in significance before the one true 'I Am' - the maker of all that is and the source of all that is good. Though there are still struggles ahead, and we may not know where this path will take us in our journey, this is made insignificant compared to the joy that is to come. Everything we do can be done in the knowledge that the battle is won, and so we are even given a taste of this victory in our present lives.

Do not be content with the pale, temporary achievements of the world. We are made to be satisfied with nothing less than eternity, and this has already been given to us.

"After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.” A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." (John 19:28-30)

This is our triumph, granted by grace.

"If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory." (Colossians 3:1-4)

Regrets, I've had a few

Have you ever decided to live without regret? I told myself I wanted that, once - for about 30 seconds.

It's easy to see negative emotions as a terrible thing, to be avoided at all costs. It's the message the world sends us: guilt and regret are wastes of time. We should live our lives to the fullest, crammed with as many happy emotions as possible. This may seem like good advice at first. After all, who wants to feel bad? Won't eliminating negative emotions give us better lives overall? For those who don't hold to an objective morality, especially, these things may seem completely useless, and it would make sense to avoid them at all costs.

Simply put, why waste time on regret?

The answer to this is simple, but it's not easy. Sorrow, guilt, and regret - these emotions tell us that there is something fundamentally broken about our world. Whether it's a flaw in ourselves or in what's around us, we are constantly reminded of the stark reality that God's beautiful creation has been stained by sin. We should always attempt to minimize the need for regret, but refusal to acknowledge the reality of the mistakes we have made will lead to dangerous consequences for our consciences. Ecclesiastes 3:4 tells us that there is "a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance".

That said, negative emotions are not necessarily good in themselves. To disregard them flaunts the imperfections of this world, but that does not mean we should dwell on them. We must acknowledge our sins, yet we must also remember that they have been forgiven. The guilt we feel should not consume us - instead, it should serve to highlight God's grace all the more. It is through knowing our guilt that we are shown our need for a saviour.

There is also a danger in allowing our guilt to define our lives. This can lead down different paths: some may use their awareness of their sins as an excuse for future wrongdoing, reasoning that if they are sinful by nature, there is no point in fighting it. Others may choose to wallow in their guilt, letting it consume them and rejecting any possibility of redemption, believing themselves to be beyond hope. Both of these, however, trivialize the immensity of God's grace. He is infinitely greater than any sin we could ever commit.

We should not reject any emotion out of hand, regardless of how unpleasant it may be. Whether it is regret or pride, sorrow or joy, these all serve a valuable purpose in analyzing the world around us. But when we let one emotion rule our lives, then we gain a twisted perspective of both God and His creation.

Faith

Why do you believe in God?

Well, maybe you don't. That's fair enough. Although in that case, I would ask: why don't you believe in God? And no, this isn't an attempt to shift the burden of proof to proving that God doesn't exist.

Well, I'm sure anyone with an opinion on the matter managed to come up with some sort of answer to those questions quickly enough. So here's another one: why, or why not, do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God? Again, I'm sure most people can provide a response one way or another.

So here's something to consider. Why did the early Christians believe that Jesus was the Son of God? As a matter of fact, that question is one of the most important to consider in regards to salvation, the veracity of the Bible, and even the existence of God.

You see, many people will answer those first two questions with something along the lines of "the Bible tells me so". It may vary, some may provide more details than others, and some may provide additional evidence. But ultimately, the main factor in the vast majority of people's beliefs will be the Bible. And that's certainly not a bad thing - because the Bible IS how we should know these things. The real question is: why should we believe the Bible?

That's where a lot of people, both Christian or not, trip up. Atheists, especially, like to say that Christians believe that the Bible is infallible because God said so, and they know that's true because the Bible said so, and so on. This is, of course, circular reasoning. However, it's also a straw man, because a good case can be made for the reliability of the Bible based on objective reasoning and historical evidence.

So, let's get back to that third question. Why did the early Christians believe that Jesus was the Son of God? Paul actually directly states this in 1 Corinthians 15, and in no uncertain terms: 

"Now if Christ is preached that He has been raised from the dead, how do some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ is not risen. And if Christ is not risen, then our preaching is empty and your faith is also empty. Yes, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we have testified of God that He raised up Christ, whom He did not raise up—if in fact the dead do not rise. For if the dead do not rise, then Christ is not risen. And if Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins! Then also those who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable."

Paul makes it abundantly clear that his faith, and the faith of the entire early church, rested entirely and completely on the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. He even goes so far as to say that if it is not true, then Christians are "of all men the most pitiable". So what relevance does the critical importance of their belief in the resurrection have for us?

It tells us that the early Christians believed so strongly in that resurrection that they were willing to die for it. To be tortured, crucified, and killed. And this wasn't based on "blind faith". Paul made sure to give the church a reason for the resurrection, earlier in the chapter:

"For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep. After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. Then last of all He was seen by me also, as by one born out of due time."

Paul was not simply asking the Christians to believe in the resurrection so that they could have hope in Christ. He gave them a reason for that hope. He referenced direct eyewitness testimonies of Jesus being raised from the dead.

The fact that the early church accepted these testimonies is as critical to us today as the testimonies themselves were to their own faith. It tells us that the testimonies were reliable. Their sheer efficacy alone speaks to their reliability, but it's still worthwhile to look into what actually made them reliable.

The main two factors are numbers and profit. First, we know that many people testified to this resurrection. Paul said that Jesus "was seen be over five hundred brethren at once". It's not an accident that he included this number. Five hundred people testifying is a lot. And this isn't new information designed to strengthen an argument - Paul is recapping what he has already told them. Because of this, it's also reasonable to assume that he isn't lying to bolster his claims. It would be far too easily testable for Paul to rest on it if it were false.

The second factor, profit, is actually referring to the complete lack of it. The apostles gained nothing from their ministry. The idea that it might have been a deliberate deception is simply nonsensical. They stood to gain absolutely nothing from it monetarily or socially. In Philippians 1, Paul describes how he rejoices in suffering because it is used to further the gospel, and he condemns those who would preach for reasons other than out of love. And it certainly wouldn't have been a good way to gain the acceptance of their peers: everything they preached was diametrically opposed to the prevailing views of the times. The only explanation for their actions was that to them, "to live is Christ, and to die is gain".

So the early Christians definitely believed in the resurrection of Jesus, and they believed it for good reasons. As I said before, this has pretty major implications for us. The willingness of the apostles to suffer for what they believed, and the belief of the Christians who were not eyewitnesses, indicate a strong historical reliability for the Bible. Given the historical setting, it's not at all reasonable to assume that it was some kind of deception. No one stood to gain from their actions or beliefs at the time.

So, why did the early Christians believe that Jesus was the Son of God? Well, they believed it because He was raised from the dead - which corresponded with the claims He made about Himself while He was alive. And they believed He was raised from the dead because they had numerous reliable eyewitness testimonies about it.

One final question. Why do I believe that Jesus is the Son of God? Well, I believe it because He died for me, and was raised from the dead. And I can know that because the early church died for Him, knowing beyond a doubt that He would then raise them from the dead.

Is Agnosticism a reasonable middle ground?

With the topic of religious truth being so popular these days, many people believe the best course of action is to say "well, we can never really know the truth, so why live as if one stance is objectively true?" This is, while technically philosophically different from atheism, practically speaking the same thing. Assuming we can't really know which religion or lack thereof is true, the default position is to act as if none of them are true. But is this a sensible solution to the often confusing conundrum of religious quandaries? Let's take a look at what it means, using a practical example.

Say you are a sergeant in the US army. Your squad is deep in enemy territory, and you've completed an important mission. At this point, you are attempting to get to a safe zone, but are being followed by many enemy soldiers. You are currently camped in the most defensible position you can find, but you know it won't hold out for long against the enemy. You need to know if there's a way out, so you send out 4 of your best men on reconnaissance, and you also order some other men to interrogate some local villagers. Your presence in this territory is not popular with the locals, so you're not sure if you can trust them. But at this point, you're looking for any option to survive.

Eventually, everyone you have sent out returns. And they all have good news! The men you sent out on reconnaissance all agree on one point: there is a gap in the enemy forces that can be easily exploited to escape. You will have to take your squad through as quickly as possible, though, because the enemy intends to close in soon.

The men you sent to interrogate the villagers also have good news, but theirs is different from what your spies brought back. Their reports also, for the most part, don't agree among themselves. Some of them say that there is another way out through the soldiers - this is a popular claim, but most of them are pointing in completely different directions. A few even say that the enemy is actually not there at all! They claim that they left some time ago - or maybe were never there to begin with.

Now, as the commanding officer, you are left with a choice. You are responsible for the lives of every man in your squad. You can listen to the testimony of your spies. They have been shown to be reliable in other matters, and you have no reason to doubt them now. Except, of course, that their testimony is different from the varying claims of the villagers. If you wish, you could trust the locals, even though their stories vastly differ among themselves. But why not just pick the one you like best? The claim that the enemy doesn't even exist is particularly attractive. After all, you haven't really seen any of the enemy yet personally - you've been focused on staying as far away as possible. Perhaps you can stroll back to base camp unharmed, without worrying about the possibility of being shot.

One thing is certain, though. The only decision that you can't make is to stay where you are. If there is an enemy, they will be attacking soon. And if there is not an enemy right now, then they will eventually find you. And your soldiers have homes and families to go back to. You need to make sure they survive. To do this, you can choose to trust any of the testimonies presented to you - but you absolutely cannot stay where you are. Sure, it's impossible to really know which option is true. But the choice of no choice is guaranteed to have consequences. You will stagnate in your camp until you die, one way or another. The choice of no choice is the choice of throwing your life away - and the lives of all of your men.

Agnosticism is choosing to take no action in the face of incredibly important consequences. Even if you choose to believe that there is no God, then you are at least being intellectually honest. The consequences will be exactly the same as if you chose no choice, but they will be the result of a real choice. And it's not even a particularly difficult choice! The testimony found in the gospels is presented by reliable eyewitnesses. Truth be told, they are some of the best historical documents available to us. (Seriously, click the link up there. If you get that book you will not regret it.)

In Revelation 3:15-16, God sent a message to the church in Laodicea. He said "I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I could wish you were cold or hot. So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth." That's agnosticism. Lukewarm water. It's not a "safe" middle ground - it's the choice to either condemn your squad, or make them wait for nothing.

Milton VS Pullman

So I've been reading Paradise Lost lately, and one thing I especially noticed was that Philip Pullman's Dark Materials series makes at least two direct references to it in: in the name of the series itself, and in the name of one of the books (the book in question is The Golden Compass). Curious about this, I looked it up, and found this: http://darknessvisible.christs.cam.ac.uk/imitation.html

Basically, Pullman's series was actually intended as a rewriting of Paradise Lost for teenagers, except that because he is Philip Pullman, he supported Satan's viewpoint throughout the book.

But he has a very, very big flaw.

In Paradise Lost, Milton constantly emphasizes God's omnipotence and role as the creator as arguments for his inherent superiority. Satan's flaw is twofold: he believes himself to be self-created(he argues this because he doesn't specifically remember the act of his creation), and he believes that God's superior power is quantitative, rather than qualitative: he thinks it's a matter of "higher numbers" of power, so to speak, rather than the infinite gap between infinity and any given number. In this, he commits grievous idolatry, by implying that anyone could be equal to God if they simply accumulated enough power, and by failing to acknowledge the inherent distinction between creator and created.

When Pullman argues on the side of Satan, he doesn't merely say he was philosophically justified, but that he was factually correct. Pullman's "God" is not the creator (I could be wrong on this - it's been some time since I've read the books, but I believe he was simply a higher order of angel), and he is most definitely not omnipotent.

So when Pullman rewrites Paradise Lost, his entire argument depends on a completely different set of premises, rather than an actual logical/philosophical dissonance. Because he has to make this change for the arguments espoused in his book to be viable, he completely discredits himself as presenting an actual argument against God's authority.

Putting this in context, consider this quote from the earlier link: "...whereas C. S. Lewis claims that Milton's work succeeds in its stated aim of justifying the ways of God to men, William Empson (Lewis' chief antagonist) has argued that Paradise Lost is good because it makes God look bad. Pullman's position in this debate is unequivocal; he says in his introduction, 'Blake said Milton was a true poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it. I am of the Devil's party and know it.'"

Pullman specifically states that he is supporting the view that God, as presented by Milton, is evil - but he isn't even presenting the same God.

Really, it's just symptomatic of a larger issue: practically every argument against God, be it against his existence or morality, depends on somehow altering his nature. But it's represented especially well here, in the contrast between such prominent works, intrinsically related and yet with very different goals.

What is Biblical morality? This is an important question, because if we can figure out exactly what it is (or as close as is humanly possible), then we can better adapt to new situations, as well as being able to better show why it should be followed.

In one sense, Biblical morality can be summed up as "that which God commands us to do (or not do)". This may seem like an overly simplistic answer, but it's actually quite literally true. Right and wrong is determined entirely by God's decree. We can see this stated in Romans 5, where Paul says "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned— for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted where there is no law. Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come." In particular, look at verse 13, where he says that "sin is not counted where there is no law." What he's saying here is that, without the law to specify what is right and wrong, then nothing would be right or wrong! This perspective on morality is known as objectivism: the belief that right and wrong are determined by a power beyond human control or preference.

I said earlier that that is Biblical morality "in one sense." It's entirely true, but there is more to it. You see, God is logical. He doesn't give commands arbitrarily, for the sake of having commands. To see this, you only need to look at the rest of His creation. Everything has a purpose and a function. Humans are composed of many parts, each of which serves a purpose as part of the whole. (Even some parts that used to be thought of as "junk.") This is seen in every intricate working of the universe, and it must be the same for morality. So, knowing that right and wrong are determined because God decrees it, the next question is: why does He decree these particular commands? Or, to put it another way: why is Biblical morality?

At this point, it helps to look at the classic categories theologians have set the law into (note that these are defined by humans, and thus fallible - not necessarily mistaken, though!) The law is generally divided into Civil, Ceremonial, and Moral.

The civil law was basically the law of Israel used in the common sense of the word. It was equivalent to the laws given by a government, and it was given because Israel had no government of their own. Most people will agree that we don't have to hold to the civil law today, though it, like every other part of the Bible, is worth studying and considering.

The ceremonial law served an incredibly important purpose, and yet is also not necessary to follow today, for a very different reason. What it did was foreshadow the coming of Jesus. An excellent book on this can be found in John Sittema's Meeting Jesus at the Feast, which talks about how the feasts and festivals which were ordained in the Old Testament showed Jesus' coming. Since the meaning of this law has been fulfilled, we are no longer required to follow it. This is especially important to know, because people attacking Biblical morality will often use ceremonial laws as examples of how Christians will "cherry-pick" the commands that suit them, by demonstrating our failure to follow seemingly arbitrary or ridiculous commands such as not eating certain foods, or not wearing clothes containing more than one type of fabric. Acts 10 is one of the clearest illustrations of the meaning behind these sorts of commandments being fulfilled.

Finally, there is the moral law. This, too, must have a purpose, but that may be a more difficult question to answer. There are two things which must be considered here: why have a moral law at all, and why these particular commandments?

The first question may seem odd. Why ask why we should have a moral law? To answer this, we need to go back to the previous passage from Romans 5. Looking again at verse 13, we see something interesting. If "sin is not counted where there is no law," then why have a law at all? Without a moral law to break, wouldn't humans be perfect, and all deserving of heaven?

The previous verse, however, seems to disagree. Paul tells us that even without a law, there was still sin in the world. However, it was "not counted." This tells us that sin is something more than disobeying commands, something less tangible. But doesn't this completely change our definition of Biblical morality, if sin is not simply disobeying God's commands? Well, no. But it does necessitate some refinement. Instead of our previous definition, we can say that right and wrong are "obedience to or rebellion against God."

To get an idea of what I mean by this, we should look at Romans 6 (the whole chapter). In this chapter, Paul talks about being slaves to God or sin, right or wrong. He connects sinful acts with slavery to sin, and vice versa, with slavery to God being connected to following His commands. From this, we can see that one leads to another: a sinful nature causes us to sin.

As an example of the distinction between sinful nature and sinful acts, think of a child who has been told to do the dishes by his mother. Though he may do as he has been told, he may still deeply resent his job, and even hate his mother for it. Though his actions do not go against the "law" laid down be his mother, his nature is still rebellious, and if it shows through he may even be punished for it. So there can clearly be a distinction between the nature and the actions, though they are still tied together: because of his rebellious nature, he may refuse to do the dishes, but without it, he would happily comply.

So while the law may make active rebellion possible, passive rebellion can exist either way. Even if God gave no commands for us to disobey, we would still be slaves to our sinful nature. And it is our sinful nature that condemns us: it is clear throughout the Bible that sins themselves can be forgiven, but salvation is only attained through embracing Jesus as our savior, and putting behind our "old selves." Disobedience to the law is an outward manifestation of our corruption, yet it is not our corruption itself.

Rather than explaining why we should have a law at all, I have explained why having a law is not a negative thing - which it may seem to be, from that verse in Romans 5. The question of why it is a good thing to have a law, then, can be answered in the next question: why this law? To understand why we are commanded, we must understand the commands.

This question is much simpler to answer: because these commands are good. By "good," in this case, I mean "beneficial." I noted before that God is logical, and so it makes sense that the things He tells us to do are those which are best for us. Consider a few of the 10 Commandments: "do not steal," "do not murder," "do not bear false witness" - these are not just morally right, they are practical guidelines for society. Jesus said it best when he summed up the commandments as "love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." What better basis for morality could we have?

So in summary, Biblical morality is that what God decrees of us, and He decrees it because it is best for us. Sometimes that may seem difficult to remember, because the temptation to sin is strong. But when you think about His law for us, it only goes to further show His grace.

(Many thanks to my friend Cassie for helping me edit this post! By which I mean completely rewrite it.)

I want to revisit an old post today for elaboration and clarification, since in its current form I'm not really happy with it. I am referring to this one: http://thepenultimatefrontier.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/i-only-desire-freedom-so-far-as-it-can_5.html

I did not mean by this that, for example, if you are a slave you should remain as such because freedom isn't really all that great. I support freedom in virtually any situation because I believe it to be demonstrably preferable to oppression. I believe it to be an ideal worth striving for, because it is better than the alternative.

A classic argument for Austrian economics is that people are better suited to make choices for themselves than the government is to do so for them. The vast amount of variables and individual preferences and needs in any economy is too much for any human centralized power to control. By leaving choices to the individual, and allowing a self-regulating market, people are able to live their lives as seems best to them. While mistakes will inevitably be made, they are almost certainly not as common or as damaging as a mistake made by a controlling power that has to attempt to regulate everything at once. And there's another aspect, too: people are more likely to learn from their own mistakes and the mistakes of those close to them then they are to learn from the government's mistakes, or even more likely than the government is to learn from its mistakes. There are a lot more details and arguments in favour of this system, but for now, there is just one fundamental principle to remember: it works better than the alternative for maximum benefit to all concerned.

There is also, of course, the very probable outcome of the ruling power not even trying to work for the benefit of those within. Slavery causes far much more damage on a whole than any good it might conceivably do for the ruling class. Governments may make policies based on popularity rather than practicality, in an attempt to stay in power - or they may just outright force their will onto everyone under them.

On the other hand, there are certain specific situations where freedom is not the best ideal. One is the matter of children. When they are very young, they simply can't handle making all of their own decisions. Their parents have to stop them from shoving whatever the find into their mouths, because hey, that can kill you. Their lives need to be regulated until they learn how to make proper, beneficial decisions.

I'm going to use myself as an example for this. About a week ago, I failed my driving test before I even got out of the parking lot. I got too close to another vehicle while attempting to turn out, the examiner had to tell me to stop, and that's an automatic failure. Obviously, I wasn't very happy about that. At the time, I probably thought that was a bit extreme, to fail me on such a small thing. But it actually makes perfect sense. The point of that test is to see if I can drive without someone supervising me. If the examiner has to tell me when to stop, then I obviously don't meet that qualification. So I failed based on "judgement". Until I have better judgement of when to stop my vehicle, I can't have the freedom to drive on my own. While I'm not legally a child, I still can't drive on my own until I can make better choices in that matter.

The other main case in which "freedom" is not inherently preferable is that of God and humans. In this case, we have a centralized power that is omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient. He knows exactly what is going on in any given moment, and exactly what is best for that situation. A common objection to divine authority, particularly in novels, is the idea of an aloof god, who can't truly understand humanity, with all of their flaws and imperfections, and so is not qualified to judge. This is simply not the case. Omniscience means, by definition, that He does know everything about us. He does truly understand all of our imperfections. Not only that, but He sent Jesus to live as a human, to actively experience the world exactly as we do. In this case, there's no justification for claiming that God couldn't possibly understand your situation well enough to justify obeying His commands. He really does know best.

As a final note, a friend of mine left a pertinent comment on the original post: "Freedom exists only where submission is made. The modern man is free to be a slave to his own desires." One can question whether true moral freedom even exists, or if those who do not follow God are only slaves to their base instincts.

There is more to be said, especially on the nature of morality. But I think that would be better left to another post. For now, I hope I have shown that freedom is valuable beyond an abstract ideal, but not to the extent that it is grounds for rejection of God's authority.

What's in a name?

Perhaps the most fundamental precept of logic is the rule that "A is A". This is what is known as the Law of Identity, and it's a pretty simple concept - even simplistic. It's saying exactly what it looks like it's saying: that something is itself, and not "not itself". (The phrase "I'm not myself today" could be more accurately stated as "my self today is altered beyond the range of my general conception of myself" - everyone is their own self at any given time.) I'm not here to discuss the truth of this rule, though. The vast majority of people will probably agree with its truth. Rather, I want to discuss a question I find far more interesting: What is A?

Simply put, A is an identifier. It's shorthand for absolutely anything, in this case, just as "X" can mean any positive number in the equation X > 0. You could replace A with a whale, humanity, the concept of brotherly love, a chair. You could replace it with anything. So I'm going to replace it with a chair.

A chair is a chair, right? At its fundamental level, it is an objective arrangement of atoms that together make the thing described as a chair. But, while the arrangement of atoms is objective and definite (the chair IS that arrangement, it isn't a whale), its chairness is not. You see, a chair is a chair because we say so. Nothing we say about it can change its physical structure, but it is us who have decided that that particular physical structure is a chair.

The physical world doesn't actually care what we say about it. Biological classifications don't really affect the lives of the animals within. Why should they care? They have survival to worry about. Whether we call a stone a rock, a carraig, a sten, or a 岩, doesn't matter to the atoms that make it up. Let me put it this way: language is the subjective assertion of consciousness onto an objective world. How we identify things doesn't change them, but it does identify them. The universe couldn't care less if we call a specific arrangement of atoms a "chair", but it matters to us, because now we have something to classify that general shape into. There are all sorts of variables: size, decoration, back, accessories, whether it has massage capabilities, but for the most part, we can point at something and identify whether it's a chair or not.

This may all seem rather boring and dull, but it actually has huge consequences: it shows us that consciousness exists. Information (specifically language, in this case) is non-existent without an intelligence to create and interpret it. Writing isn't just funny squiggles on paper, because a mind can look at that and learn from it. It doesn't change the fundamental structure of the ink and the paper, and neither of those things care that you're writing with them, but the information is real, and so the consciousness is too. We detect with our senses, we store in our brains, but we think with our minds. Information is meaningless without sentience.

Another interesting thing about consciousness is that it is the only place where contradictions can exist. They're completely impossible in the physical world (A is A, it is not "not A"), but they are free to exist in information. Two people can tell opposing stories, and though only one can be true in the real world, the fact remains that a contradiction exists in the information. I can say "this sentence is false", and that is self-contradictory. It is completely useless and unrelated to the real world, but the contradiction still exists. In fact, because of this, it's reasonable to assume that the concept of contradictions was created because of false or incorrect information. It's information designed to relate only to information, since the concept is impossible outside of information. On another note, it is possible for someone to genuinely believe in contradicting things. Both of those things cannot be true, but a person is free to choose to believe in both, assuming they are OK with hypocrisy.

This is all to show that information and consciousness exist apart from physical matter. Perhaps not independently - at least not within this universe - but there is certainly a distinction. I personally believe it points to the existence of a soul, though I guess you're free to draw your own conclusions.

(Incidentally, this is why I dislike it when people say they reject labels. To reject labels is almost rejecting consciousness in a way. Language exists for a reason. Use it.)

Atlas Loved

I have a confession to make: I've been reading Atlas Shrugged.

When I started it, I wasn't looking to be convinced or to be able to easily refute it. Knowing that it's a controversial book for many reasons, all I really planned for was to learn. And I did!

One particular fact I noticed throughout the book is the complete irrelevance of the arguments most commonly brought up against it. Before reading it,  I had already seen it dismissed many times. But the dismissals all invariably depended on a fairly undefined sense of morality that Rand actively speaks out against in her book. What use is decrying it as evil if she is working from a different definition of evil? Not only that, but she takes great care to both define her morality (something her detractors often fail to do), and to show that it works.

Even though I agree with Rand on some economic policy, I am not fully convinced yet, for a few reasons. First is that the characters are ridiculously black and white. The world of Atlas Shrugged, and the characters within, are polarized to a frankly preposterous degree. While her core principles may hold true regardless, it's kind of hard to think of it as an accurate representation of humanity when literally every conversation is a long and detailed speech on morality and economics (though technically, she considers them the same thing). That doesn't disprove the novel at all: one can assume that the characters are merely representative of the two sides of human natures she presents, and divided in that way for illustrative purposes. It does make the characters' struggles rather less believable, though.

That is mostly an issue of presentation, but there is an issue I disagree with her on almost entirely: that of morality. There is an important distinction that needs to be made here: I do not disagree with her morality simply because I dislike it. It's not an issue of "that doesn't feel right", or "everyone knows that sort of thing is evil". Any effective disagreement on this matter must be defined, clear, and grounded in a rational philosophy/worldview. It cannot depend on an emotional response, because Rand has thoroughly refuted the validity of that kind of action. With that said, the basis for my disagreement is, of course, Christianity. The Bible presents a clear and defined moral standard that is very different from Rand's philosophy, based on the authority of God. She argues for selfishness and the pursuit of happiness as the highest moral virtues, while Christianity explicitly states that we must live for others, and work for the glory of God. But, while I disagree with her moral code, I actually agree - for the most part - with her standards. And here is how that fits in with Christianity.

I've stressed in the past that the most important attribute of Christianity is that it is true. Rand openly rejected this belief, claiming at one point that religion is a tool used to control the masses. However, truth isn't determined by how nice a belief is, or by how it is used by people who claim to hold to it. So I want to talk about how Christianity impacts Rand's beliefs by their own standards, assuming that it is true.

First of all, regardless of whether or not God is evil by her standards, it is very clear that He should be followed and obeyed, based on the profit motive alone. God promises an eternal and perfect bliss in exchange for obeying Him. Ayn Rand believed strongly in the gold standard. She believed it to be the best objective measure of value. But God uses a standard that cannot be competed with. He promises rewards in heaven based on service to Him. With a reward like that, there should be no question about devoting your life to Him, based on selfishness alone.

But God isn't actually evil based on her standards, anyway! Rand believes that societal position and wealth should be based on competence and production, and this is where God throws the scales completely off of balance. Not only is He infinitely competent, He has created everything! He controls all resources and production by His own right, having created them entirely on His own. This in itself wouldn't entitle Him to command us - Rand would have been harshly opposed to the idea that more productive members of society have an inherent right to command the less productive. Rather, as He owns everything completely by rights of creation, we can only use these things according to how He allows us. He even created our lives! In this case, He is only exercising His rights as property owner and landlord, and His control of us is fully justified.

This is where it gets seriously off the scale, though. Because by Rand's own standards, our continued existence on Earth is based entirely on God's undeserved mercy and love. That is diametrically opposed to what she would believe to be right, but it's true. We have absolutely no claim to anything God has created, and we can provide no services to Him that are worth what He gives us in return, be it our continued existence or the promised eternity in heaven. The scale is not just tipped in God's favour, it is entirely and completely owned by God. By Rand's standards, we have no right to exist. And this is where I remember one particular Bible verse: "We love because He first loved us." (1 John 4:19) If there is no other reason to love others and show mercy, this would be it: that God did so first, though we did nothing to earn it, nothing to deserve it, and never could. By right of ownership and by right of production, we have no right to exist, or to ask anything of God.

"Mr. Rearden," said Francisco, his voice solemnly calm, "if you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders-what would you tell him to do?"
"I . . . don't know.  What . . . could he do? What would you tell him?"
"To shrug."

We are held up by an Atlas who will not shrug. One who owns us completely, and yet loves us regardless. How can we do anything but try to show the same love He showed us?

Another old post - I actually had some trouble digging this one up, since I couldn't find it on my timeline.

I find it so easy sometimes to be distracted from the reality of Christianity. I don't mean its truthfulness, though I will admit to falling into that snare sometimes. I mean what Christianity truly is.

So often, you will see people say it is hateful, it is ignorant, it is wrong. And they will have so many examples of this. Attributing religion to terrible historical figures, pointing out the plain bigotry and hate expressed by many people today that they excuse with a thin shield of "Christianity", or even that popular statistic informing us that x percent of people in prisons identify as Christian. When tossed about enough, these claims can instil a genuine shame in the name of Christianity, and even a rejection on some level. Who would want to be a Christian - no, who would want to be religious at all when religion is clearly responsible for so much wrong?

Or, on the other hand, there is the soft soap Christianity. The kind you wash your hands with to make yourself feel clean on the outside. The Christianity that doesn't judge, that would never dare to condemn any action that society has deemed appropriate. The Christianity that doesn't make claims of right or wrong, but says all the Bible really says you have to do is love everyone - with the meaning of that word becoming less defined every day. Truth? Oh, that's a dangerous word. Everybody is right, in their own way, and we'll all go to heaven when we're dead.

Both of these brands of Christianity can seem tempting in their own way. The former lets you safely disregard it as a backwards relic of an ancient culture, while the second lets you putter safely through life with the assumed title of "generally good person". But if there's one thing they share in common, it's this: neither of them are Christianity.

True Christianity is never shown in popular culture. Because true Christianity is beautiful, but terrifying. It is a religion of love, but it promotes a love that tells people when they're wrong. A love that embraces the sinner as someone no better than us, equally flawed and equally forgiveable, but still flawed, and still in need of forgiveness. Christianity is Jesus saying "I am the way, the truth, and the life. NO ONE comes to the Father except through Me."

Paul never taught us that people are basically good, or that anything goes as long as it's consensual. Paul said "Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God." (1 Corinthians 6:9-11) He clearly makes a distinction between right and wrong, between holding to the standards of the Bible or of the world. And right after that, in verse 12, he says "'I have the right to do anything,' you say—but not everything is beneficial. 'I have the right to do anything'—but I will not be mastered by anything." There are things you can do, even things you are allowed to do, that you should not do. Not because of human standards, but because of God's standards.

But despite these standards, we are not told to look down on others for their sins. We are not told we are any better than the rest. Jesus Himself, the only human who ever lived up to God's standards, washed His own disciples feet - even the one who would betray Him! His life was an example to us, and it was not an example of arrogance, of pride in your own virtue or talent. Rather, He taught us that the greatest among us are those that humble themselves before God and man. He walked with the sinners and the tax collectors, the reviled and hated, and He did not say what they were doing was right, but He forgave all who asked.

True Biblical Christianity is not easy, and because of that, it is so simple to call other things Christianity. To hate it, or to disregard it all together. But Christianity is not found on a happy middle ground between these two extremes. It is found on a Rock: the only solid foundation in this world. It is found in God, and taught in His word. Don't let people fool you into accepting a different Christianity than what is true. These are labels for the sake of convenience. Straw men that are set up by the very people who hold to them, to distract from the real thing.

When I forget the reality of Christianity, remembering it can be so easy. As simple as reading a passage from the Bible, or even just listening to someone talk real, sound theology. Sometimes it's an easy transition, realizing that the Christianity talked about by the world falls so far short of reality. Sometimes it can be difficult to acknowledge, though. Because Christianity is hard. It can be hard to understand, and it teaches things that can be hard to accept. But it is also beautiful, and most importantly, true.

"But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have." (1 Peter 3:15)

That's a well-known verse, and for good reason. Peter is telling the Christians who received his letter to be prepared to defend their faith. He's calling us to be Christ-like: Jesus always had an answer for those who questioned Him, often catching them in their own traps. His example was not just one of moral purity. He also showed how we need to be prepared to respond to the challenges that the world brings against our faith.

This is an especially important verse to remember right now, at the end of the Australian school year. Next year, there will be many young Christians going to university for the first time, entering a whole new environment. They will meet more challenges to their faith than ever, and some of them - probably a lot of them - will abandon the faith. It's a harsh reality, but one that needs to be acknowledged and kept in mind as we are thrust into a world that is so strongly opposed to a true gospel message. We need a reason for the hope that is in us, and we need to be prepared to answer for it faithfully, with the full weight of God's truth behind us. We need to have science, philosophy, logic, and history all backing up our statements.

And... I left something out, didn't I?

"But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behaviour in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." (1 Peter 3:15b-16)

...That's the tricky part, isn't it? People - myself included - seem to conveniently forget it whenever we're engaged in discussion with those who disagree with us. But the message is clear, possibly even more so than the preceding text. If we claim to represent Christ, and yet do so with vitriol and harsh language, then we aren't truly speaking the gospel. We are damaging the church's reputation with our pride. Jesus answered the questions brought to Him, yet He did so in such a way that when they put Him on trial, they had no real charges. He never insulted their intelligence, or resorted to cheap shots. He spoke the truth, and He did so in such a way that He was blameless of wrongdoing. It is just as important that we show the morality and love of Christianity as it is that we show the truth.

As you go out into the world and preach Christ crucified, remember to do so with your attitude as much as your actions, or you will be doing no more than inflating your own ego. To defend the gospel with hatred is impossible.

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." (1 Corinthians 13:1-2)

I have faith. But what do I have faith in?

I'll tell you what I don't have faith in.

I don't have faith that I will never go hungry. That I will never have a broken bone, or a broken heart. I don't have faith that I will be rich, or liked, or successful, or healthy. When I go to sleep at night, I don't have faith that I will wake up.

That's not to say that I don't think I might get some of these things, or that every time I sleep I fear for my life. It is quite likely that I will survive tonight, and many more nights to come. But I do not have faith that God will provide them, simply because I do not know if I need them.

The problem with humans - or, at least, one of the problems - is that we are limited in our knowledge. Not only our knowledge of the world around us, but also our knowledge of the future, and even of ourselves. I do know that if I don't eat regularly, I will go hungry. What I don't know is whether it is good for me to go hungry or not.

This is the essence of faith in God's work in our lives: not that He will provide what we want, but that He will provide what we need. Remember Paul, in 2 Corinthians 12? He had an affliction of some kind, and he asked God to remove it. But it stayed, because, as Paul realized later, it was there to teach him a lesson. Even Jesus was made to suffer throughout His life - not so that He would learn, but so that He could be tested, He could teach through example, and ultimately, so that He could take the punishment for our sins on us.

We won't be called to do that last thing, of course. Jesus' sacrifice was sufficient and complete. But we do still need to be tested, for a faith that survives only through comfort is no faith at all. We still need to provide an example to the world through our faith in suffering. And, like Paul, we still have much to learn that is best taught through trials and tribulations of all kinds. But we still suffer from a limited perspective: what Jesus knew, Paul learned, and we must learn too, is that what is best for us is so far beyond what we know.

So while I do not have faith that I will always be comfortable or content or happy, I do have faith that in all things, God will work for the good of those who love Him. What is good for us may hurt for a day, a year, or even a lifetime, but it will ultimately bring us closer to Him.

I always get somewhat upset when people misrepresent the doctrine of hell, though it is common, and even understandable. However, the arguments against it fail to recognize key facts, and often rely on hyperbole, representing hell as "unjust".

This particular tactic falls short, however, because it appeals to a sense of justice above God, one which He must hold to. In other words, it appeals to an objective morality beyond both human and divine, something for which there is no basis, no argument other than emotional appeal - especially because the sense of a morality above humans is often used to point to the existence of God. To say it points to the existence of a being above God is an entirely arbitrary step with no evidence, that can only be used to condemn practices you're not personally happy about.

So the idea that hell is unjust because God is violating some superior standard is easy enough to disprove (and the notion that it is bad by subjective morality is self-contradictory). A more cogent argument, however, would be to argue that it is inconsistent with God, as He is described as loving. And what loving God would punish people?

C. S. Lewis provided an excellent response to this in his book Mere Christianity, as a natural extension of his using the moral argument for the existence of a deity. He said: 'The Moral Law does not give us any grounds for thinking that God is "good" in the sense of being indulgent, or soft, or sympathetic. There is nothing indulgent about the Moral Law. It is as hard as nails. It tells you to do the straight thing and it does not seem to care how painful, or dangerous, or difficult it is to do. If God is like the Moral Law, then He is not soft. It is no use, at this stage, saying that what you mean by a "good" God is a God who can forgive. You are going too quickly. Only a Person can forgive.'

Though he does not state it directly, something can be inferred here: hell is a natural extension of a moral standard greater than humans. If there is a law above us which we must obey, and we fall short, then there is no reason outside of those standards to assume anything other than punishment. To say that God would not condemn someone to hell because He is a loving God is to ignore His other attribute of a just God. The only reason we know that God has provided a way out of hell is that He has given us a specific path out in the Bible. There's no reason to assume that His love would completely supersede His justice outside of personal perspective. Punishment can be inferred from wrongdoing, salvation can be learned through the Bible.

So to say hell is unjust is essentially placing your own standards above God in some way. It's a rejection of authority, something I have talked about before.

One more thing that's important to note: people will often attempt to overstate the severity of hell, saying that people are "mostly good", and that "no one really deserves such a terrible punishment". Now, this is another example of placing your own standards above God. I cannot actually say how bad the punishment of hell will be. It is not my place to judge others, and it is even forbidden to make that kind of judgement. But what we do know is that the punishment will equal exactly what is deserved. So in the hypothetical (though impossible) scenario of a person doing only one bad thing in their entire life, they would only be punished for that thing, exactly as would be appropriate for the severity of the act. It is never stated in the Bible that everyone will receive the same levels of excessive torture regardless of the severity of their crimes. That sort of hyperbole is only used to discount hell, but has no place in Biblical doctrine. Rather, we are told that everyone will be judged according to what they have done, and that God is a just God. To say hell is more than what is deserved has no real grounding. No human could say exactly what punishment any individual might deserve, but we do know they will be punished exactly according to how they have failed in their standard.

I like to say that hell is just math, but heaven is grace. Hell is the logical extension of a morality above our own, and the punishment that might be received will be perfectly appropriate to the individual. Heaven, on the other hand, is only achievable through the grace of God, through the path He has given us. Salvation through His son, Jesus Christ. It's impossible for us to earn it, but that it is given to us anyway is a supreme example of love.

I only desire freedom so far as it can be shown to be good or useful. Perhaps one of the greatest lies ever told is that of the value of freedom for its own sake. Even the most ardent supporter of liberty would acknowledge that your freedom ends when it infringes on that of another - to use a classic example, "my freedom to swing my fist ends with your face". Why is this limitation placed on freedom? Because of the authority of the individual over their own lives - and there, we can see the limits of freedom, for already we are submitting to some kind of authority. And the reason we submit to this authority is because the alternative is chaos, which is neither good nor useful. Of course, the goodness and usefulness of freedom can be shown in many practical ways, but freedom for its own sake? There is no foundation, only a very pervasive lie.

What, then, does this say about God, and how we must submit to Him? Well, if He is indeed real, then there can be no question that submitting to His authority is both good and useful. It is shown by the starkest contrast of all: heaven and hell. To reject God, or the idea of God, for the sake of your own personal freedom is foolishness, a philosophy that will lead to destruction. And to decry God as evil because He restricts your "freedom" is a philosophy based on nothing, an ideal that should be rejected as soon as it is seriously considered. Freedom for its own sake was the lie that trapped Eve, for she was told she could be equal to God, and thus "free" from Him. And freedom for its own sake is what drives sin to this day - rejection of God, wishing to follow your own path.

C. S. Lewis: "I was not born to be free; I was born to adore and obey."

There are three reasons to study theology, for having a "head knowledge" of the gospel. I would not say that any are more important than the others, but here they are.

The first two are related - to defend the faith against attacks, and to bring others to Christ. This could be summed up as instructing, whether actively to convert, or passively to defend. The third reason is to gain a richer understanding of your own faith. Like so many things in Christianity, these different reasons can work together in amazing ways. First, let's use it to look at sin.

It's important to understand exactly what sin is. Sin is, at its core, rebellion against God. It's not just about doing something which is "just wrong", but in showing that this thing matters more than God's commands. All sin is, in its own way, idolatry, because it places something else above God - usually some form of pleasure. This is why sin is bad: because nothing is above God. He is supreme, and to treat something else as more important than him is, simply put, blasphemy. So, the actions of sin are idolatry, which comes from a rebellion against God's supremacy.

How much more great does God's grace become? He is not just letting you off for violating some arbitrary rule designed to restrict you, but He is forgiving you for claiming that something which He created is more important than Him, the One who created both that thing, and you.

Knowing this then has two benefits: not only can you use it to explain the severity of sin, and why we must follow those rules, but you can use it to greater appreciate the grace of God in forgiving sin, and even better know why you must follow the law which He has laid out.

Another example, perhaps even more important, is love. Love, of course, is a word used to mean many things, but here I would say its true meaning is to seek what is best for that which you love. Consider that beautiful verse, John 15:13. "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." The purest expression of love is sacrifice, to seek what is best for your friends even at the cost of your own life. Love is more than just an emotion, it is an act, a commitment. When you say you love someone, you say "I want what is best for you".

Now, here's the clincher, and this ties back to my point about sin: God loved you, He wanted what was best for you, even when you actively rebelled against Him. When you committed the atrocity - and I say "you", because everyone has done it - when you committed the offence of claiming that something else was greater than God, when you pushed Him away and tried to reduce Him to something less than His own creations, He still loved you! He still wanted what was best for you. It's like being offered a choice between the basest of trash and someone's most prized possession, choosing the trash, and spitting in the face of the one who gave it to you, but multiplied infinitely, and yet God still loves you. He still wants to give you that most prized possession. Not only that, but when you understand the extent of His love - that He loved you so much He sent His own Son to die for you, despite the nature of your crimes, even though every sin you commit is spitting in His face, how can you help but praise Him?

This is theology. Knowing not just the existence of sin and love, but what they are, and the implications of this. The more you learn about God, about His grace and His love and even His justice, the more you can appreciate Him, and the better you can spread His word. It gives you both a deeper understanding, and a more solid foundation for your faith.

To dismiss "head knowledge", saying that all you really need is the love of God, is to miss out on so much of that love. Learning these things and thinking on them is itself a labour of love. It will bring you closer to God, and perhaps help to bring others closer to Him. Whether you study the Trinity, the role of elders in the Church, the real-world benefits to the 10 commandments, you will better appreciate God, and more importantly, be better able to glorify Him.

Another old one. Wasn't sure if I would post this, mostly since it's a lot shorter than the others, but I decided it falls into the same kind of post anyway.

The message that "God only gives you what you can handle" makes me somewhat uncomfortable because it's said so often, yet it's... pretty much exactly the opposite of what the Bible teaches.

God doesn't test you to see what you're capable of, nor does he guarantee you'll be capable of everything you're put through. What the Bible does teach is that "I can do all things through Him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13) It also tells us that He uses the weak to shame the strong - the very fact that we're not capable in ourselves is used to His glory.

I think that often, the implications of that saying aren't fully realized. It can even be said by people who will quote the verse from Philippians with utmost sincerity. But it's dangerous, because God will give you tests that you can't handle, and we need to remember that all of our strength comes from Him. Trials aren't a test of merit, they are an opportunity to show the glory of God through your life.

This is an old post from Facebook. I'll be putting most or all of them up here eventually. Hopefully once per day, if I can remember.

I've been thinking a lot about purpose lately, both as an overall concept, and how it applies to philosophy and morality in general.

Purpose, at least by the definition I'm using, is something entirely unique to created things, as it is the reason that thing was created. It is entirely separate from function, which is what the creation can be used for. An example would be a knife: someone could create a knife for the purpose of the act of creation. However, after its creation, it could then be used for any function a knife could possibly have. In this case, its purpose is already fulfilled, but its function is separate from that. Another example would be if someone created a knife for the purpose of having something with all the functions of the knife. In this case, its purpose is fulfilled when its functions are used, and the two are tied together.

There is a clear dichotomy in science and philosophy for humans: either we are created, or uncreated. This has huge implications, because if we were created, then we have a purpose. I'll give two examples of this: first, of an unknown hypothetical deity, second, of the God of the Bible.

In the case of the hypothetical deity, say our purpose was a test of its power, similar to the example of the knife. In this case, our purpose is already fulfilled simply by existing, and our function is unrelated to that. This would have relatively little impact on our lives, as we would be free to live however we choose. Our purpose would not have any practical implications.

The second case is rather special, because if we were created by the God of the Bible, then we can actually know our purpose: to glorify God in all that we do, by following the commandments laid out in the Bible. In this case, our purpose is directly related to to our function, because our function is how we fulfil it. Our purpose is to serve God in what we do.

This actually presents an interesting case for why we should hold to Biblical morality. Possibly the most common argument used in favour is that of God's supreme authority, but this adds a new dimension: by following these commands, we fulfil the very purpose for which we were created.

The other end of the extreme is fairly simple. If we were not created, we have no purpose, only function. In a sense, this would let us define our own purpose, though it would not be the same as the purpose of a created thing. It would probably be best defined as a reason for why we live the way we do.

The idea of purpose is sometimes used as an argument for the existence of a deity. It's a generally accepted fact that most humans feel a sense of unfulfilled purpose. A higher cause for their life that they must fulfil. And the Bible, for example, directly addresses this, saying that we do have a purpose, and telling us what it is. This makes the question one of whether or not that feeling is a legitimate sense of purpose, or an illusory feeling that stems from some part of the human psyche.

Worth noting is that, if we are created, we are the only creations that can actively choose to attempt to defy our purpose. This raises the question of whether, by virtue of being able to do this, it is right to do so. I would say not, but perhaps it is just a matter of opinion. Maybe the authority argument is really the best option? I'm honestly not sure. However, at the very least, the prospect of a purpose that can be fulfilled provides a sort of incentive. (An alternative to this would be the question of whether free will even exists, and a discussion on predestination, and whether we are even able to deviate from our purpose. But that's another topic for another time.)