Proving God

Some of you may be familiar with philosophers' attempts to prove God's existence.  The simplest is put forth by Descartes, who in doubting reality, realized the only thing he could be sure of was that he doubted.  Here's my paraphrase:

I doubt, therefore I think.
I think, therefore I exist.
I doubt, therefore I am imperfect.
I am imperfect, therefore imperfection exists.
Imperfection exists, therefore perfection exists.
God, by definition, is perfection, therefore God exists.
God is perfect, therefore God is good.
God is good, therefore God would not deceive us.
God would not deceive us, therefore the world and my experiences in it are real.

This proof actually shares the same fatal flaw as the other God proof I've heard:

Something can exist either in thought or in reality.
I can think of God, therefore God exists in thought.
It is more powerful to exist in reality than in thought.
God is, by definition, the most powerful, therefore God exists in reality.

The flaw, of course, is that we are asked to accept that because something is conceptualized, it must exist in accordance to its intrinsic characteristics.  Yet if I believe that God is, by definition, a delicious jelly donut sitting on my desk, there is still no jelly donut on my desk.  Those of us not well schooled in metaphysics may not be able to articulate exactly why we know these proofs are bogus, but we do know it.

(Note: I am not a philosopher, so if you're outraged at how much I screwed up my summary of these ideas, I apologize.)

However, in some of my musings this year, I have come across my own conditional proof that God exists.  Conditional in that it does not prove God, but makes God a necessary derivative of another belief.  Here it is:

If we have free will, God exists.

Maybe some of you are nodding your heads and saying "good point," or shaking your heads and saying "nope."  You have probably already jumped ahead through everything else I'm about to say.  If, however, you're going "huh?" then you can benefit from reading my explanation.

It started in Mexico.  I have no real explanation for why it started in Mexico, except perhaps that I (like Descartes, it would seem) had a lot of free time on my hands.  It was then that I began doubting free will.

It seems, scientifically, that to believe in free will, you must at some point stop your understanding of physical science.  Scientifically speaking, our brains are very complex systems of electrical signals and chemical reactions that form what we experience as thought.  Like everything in nature, these systems react to stimuli in the environment, chug through some insanely complex equations, and churn out an answer.  It's conceptually no different from the reaction you get when you mix baking soda and vinegar, or when you charge a battery, or when you plant a seed.  There are variables (how much vinegar you used, how long the battery is charging, nutrients in the soil, and so forth) that, depending on the complexity and our ability to measure them, we may or may not be aware of.  But if we were to know all of these variables, we could predict the outcome.  Chaos theory says that we cannot--that the universe is far too complex for us to predict outcomes like that.  But if we were omniscient about the present, we would be able to predict the future.

Are you buying this?  Let me ask you something: if you flip a coin, what are the chances that it will land heads?  Fifty percent?  Fifty-one percent?  Say you flip a coin and it lands on heads.  Given the exact physical circumstances of that toss--air currents in the room, your pulse, everything--what were the odds that it was going to be heads?  I claim 100%.  If you built a time machine, went back in time, and observed that coin toss again without changing anything (forget Heisenberg for a second), it would land on heads.  Every time.

Apply the same concept to a choice.  What will I eat for breakfast?  Cereal or eggs?  I think I'm choosing, but I'm actually just running an equation in my brain based on my hunger, how long it's been since I last ate eggs, how much time I have before I have to be in class, and so forth.  I may choose to make eggs.  If I go back in time and watch that play out again, I will once again choose to make eggs, because that was the outcome of that equation (note: for this reason I don't believe in alternate realities--at least not according to the "we create one with every choice" theory).

The end result is predetermination.  Given the exact same circumstances, we will make the exact same choices, just like the same math equation will always yield the same result (and don't give me any plus-or-minus crap or start talking about the number i).

There's a whole concept in philosophy that assumes all this, and goes on to explain our experiences and sense of self: epiphenominalism.  "In the Philosophy of Mind, a dualist theory of mind-body interaction which maintains all mental events are causally dependent upon physical events (i.e., brain states). According to this theory brain events cause mental events, but not vice versa" (Maricopa).  Essentially, our experience of making a choice is actually a side-effect of our body making that choice.  It's an illusion, unintended by the brain--a "ghost in the machine."

You may disagree, but I think all of this makes perfect sense.

So where does free will come in to play?  Do we have free will?  I believe I make choices all the time.  I believe I have free will.  Maybe I'm just suffering from the delusion of mental existence, but maybe I'm right, and there actually is free will.  But here's the thing:

To the best of my scientific and philosophical understanding, free will is impossible.  Therefore, free will can only exist by divine miracle.

Divine miracle means God.

Listening to God

I'm preaching on the theme of listening to God next Sunday. Does anyone have any reflections or meditations on this theme?

Sensitive matters

"Nic, I have to talk to you about a sensitive matter," Natasha said, looking at me with the eyes that are most often followed with a pleading (and misguided) "you're going to hate me forever!"

The reaction to this sort of prelude is not voluntary. My heartbeat quickens, I feel lightheaded, and my stomach twists up into that anticipatory feeling that only happens when I know something horrible is about to happen or I'm about to finally overcome some previously insurmountable challenge (usually in a video game).

"It's about your blog," she said. "I told my mom about it, and she said, 'Natasha, that's not right. It's feetwashing.'"

Jeanine had then hurried to dig up an old book as proof, but I trust this step was unnecessary. She is the archivist at Manchester College. There is no doubting that she, not I, is correct.

However, I feel that I am not alone in my ignorance. Maybe I'm just mishearing things, but isn't "footwashing" a common use? Like a less horrific "nucular?" Please comment and set me straight.

On another note, a Wikipedia entry is titled "Four Square" (two words), while Google asks "Did you mean foursquare?" (one word). "Four-Square" appears to be used solely in this blog title.

Please contact me if you are interested in being a contributor to this blog. Also, given the current sparsity of posts, I advise using an RSS reader to be informed of updates.

Who do you kill for a living?

The call for other authors on this blog is getting more urgent, since I'm taking 16 hours of class and working up to 25 hours a week and acting in a play.

Discuss: Is it wrong for a Brethren person to work in a liquor store, selling cigarettes, alcohol and (worst of all) lottery tickets?

Love your enemies: an activist's stance

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor[h] and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies[i] and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” - Matthew 5:43-48

Often only a small snippet of that is quoted, which is fine, because it makes the same point as the whole passage. I’m just really partial to the whole thing.

In March of 2007, I attended a protest against the Iraq war organized by Valpo students in Indianapolis. Frankly, I found the whole thing appalling. I find that I often do not identify with the more vocal components of the anti-war movement, because sometimes it feels they’ve taken the issue of the war and turned it into a war right here at home. Those who oppose the war are our allies, and those who support it - and those who perpetrate it - are our enemies.

At this particular protest, a representative of the womens’ advocacy group Code Pink stood up and told what I can only call lies about our president. Maybe she believed them, but I didn’t - if George Bush were stumbling through the White House in drunken fits and and calling his wife “the C-word” in front of the White House Press Corps, we’d know about it. The media certainly has no bias against sensationalism.

But what really got to me was a war veteran and current professor (of communications, I think) who was sort of MC’ing the event. At one point, he started off on a rant about how he’s against the idea of impeaching President Bush and Vice-President Cheney, because it lets them off the hook. “I don’t want them impeached,” he bellowed, “I want them prosecuted! I want them to spend the rest of their natural lives in a jail cell!” The fact that impeachment does, in fact, mean prosecution (and not removal from office, as he seemed to believe) aside, I was struck by the tone of anger and vengeance that was seeping into this protest.

I did not act; I watched myself act. I saw myself turn from where I’d been standing, with my back to the protest, holding a sign with the name of an Indiana native who’d been killed so that it was visible to traffic passing through the circle. I saw myself walk to an open area in front of the angry man, drop to my knees, and pray.

Your peace, your love, your forgiveness, your mercy….

I posted this reflection on the Young Anabaptist Radicals blog some time ago about my arrest at an anti-war demonstration last year. Recently, the blog administrator e-mailed me to alert me to a comment he’d deleted, due to name-calling and profanity. It essentially lauded me for my actions and had some harsh things to say about the arresting officers, and about police in general.

First, I want to say that the police officers who collected us from the federal building and drove us to central booking were the absolute epitome of civility. The one who drove James and me even expressed some support for our position, though coupled with doubts about our chosen method of expression, and they removed our handcuffs before procedure really permitted it because they could see that we were not a threat. I have no complaint whatsoever against these officers, and would object to any harsh words spoken against them.

I cannot provide the same level of praise for the U.S. Marshals or the Sheriff’s deputy in the court house, but I will say this: All of them did their jobs. They may not have been warm and fuzzy towards us, but I feel that, had they been, it would be the exception. As a former Resident Assistant, I understand a little of the need for detached formality and established dominance when dealing with a “deviant,” and that’s what we were. Nobody can be expected to walk that line perfectly, and while that might leave us some complaint against the power differentials set up by the law enforcement system, I don’t feel that we should cast officers of the law as our enemies or slur them with personal attacks for what, most of the time, really just amounted to being professional.

But the officers’ actions here aren’t really relevant to my point. If this story is made to be about the injustice, perceived or real, of my arrest, then the true point of my action is lost. If the punchline becomes a jumble of harsh feelings towards the police, then the real crime goes uncorrected. My battle is not against George W. Bush and Dick Cheney, or against Richard Lugar and the United States Marshals. My battle is against the evil of violence that can take hold in every human heart, including my own. If I cast people as my enemies, then I have allowed that evil to take hold of me, warping my cause into a point of division and hate.

“Love your enemies” wasn’t just aimed at the masterminds behind the Iraq war: it applies to those of us who oppose it, too. “End the war” isn’t the ethic, it’s the realization of it - and that ethic is love. Our actions must be rooted in love or we will lose sight of our goals and be dragged down into the same quagmire of opposition and retribution that we profess to oppose, and even a total political victory will come at the cost of a moral defeat. I do not believe that the end justifies the means: our actions must reflect the spirit of the world we wish to see, or that world will dance forever outside of our grasp.

Coming home

Since I asked Nadine to introduce herself, I should do the same.

Hello, I'm Nick. I'm a fourth-year student at Manchester College, majoring in Peace Studies with an emphasis in Community and Social Relations. I've been pretty involved in Church of the Brethren stuff for the last six years or so, from local youth group stuff to the National Youth Cabinet. I also wrote for Messenger last summer.

I started this blog for young Brethren/Anabaptist/whatever people to talk about life through the lens of our faith. So far, most our posts have been largely issue-based, but that doesn't mean that the blog is limited to that format. I encourage authors to, as they like, write about personal experiences that they want to share with this community as well. (Actually, at this point, I just encourage authors. Sign on.)

I think I mentioned this before, but I just got back (four weeks ago today) from a year spent living and studying in Mexico. You might imagine (or know) that this brings all sorts of crazy experiences for me as I try to sort out who I am and where I call home.

One thing I missed in Mexico was Church. I attended a total of two services during my entire year there (one Catholic, one Jehova's Witness). And that's not for some shortage of churches in Mexico... it was a combination of classic college student laziness (I rarely attend Sunday services in Manchester), a different environment (no Wednesday chapels like at school) and a lack of belonging - both in terms of a familiar community and a familiar language.

A couple of weeks ago, I made it to a Taizé service at a Lutheran church in Indianapolis a couple of miles from the house I'm living in this summer. It was like coming home... the church was beautiful and the service was amazing. I love a sunlit, stone sanctuary, because the rays coming in from the high windows feel like God smiling in on me.

That's all. No point, no deep thought. Just an experience.

If You Believe...

You know how sometimes we learn new songs at Annual Conferences and other large denominational and regional events? And how sometimes we love them so much we can't keep ourselves from singing them?

Once upon a time, like 2001 Annual Conference in Baltimore perhaps, the Church of the Brethren learned the song "If You Believe and I Believe" from Zimbabwe. The song served as the country's national anthem during it's struggle for independence, declared in 1965 but not formally recognized until 1980.

It is a simple, beautiful song, with a fantastic message:

If you believe and I believe and we together pray
The Holy Spirit must come down and set God's people free,
And set God's people free,
And set God's people free;
The Holy Spirit must come down and set God's people free.

Although the song made it into the 2008 conference booklet, I don't know if we sang it. Strange though this seems to some of my friends, I didn't sit in on every business session.

As many of you may know from recent news reports, Zimbabwe had been an Africa success story (it still has the highest literacy rate on the continent) and Harare, the capitol, was site of the WCC's 8th General Assembly in 1998. Now the country is in the midst of a drought, weighted down by inflation, subject to an embargo, projecting the world's lowest life expectancy, and living through a time where its elections look more like a selection.

If we did indeed sing "If You Believe and I Believe" at Annual Conference, I hope we sang it as a prayer for Zimbabwe. If we didn't, I hope you and your congregation will do so in the future and keep the country's people in your prayers for the foreseeable future.