And here we are. Finally.
I've been wanting to move for a long time, but I had to design a new template (pretty time consuming when you're picky and cheap) and find a good domain name. If you've never created a blog at blogspot, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a good name. If you're horrifically bored some time, try to think up blog names (or e-mail addresses) that someone else hasn't already claimed. This is how it goes: you think of a great name, you type it in, and you get an "address not available" message. Apparently some kindred spirit out there though of the exact same name before you. (Great minds think alike, right?) You type the name in your browser and it turns out that you're kindred spirits with some dork-face who started a blog 2 years ago, posted twice, and was never heard from again. Meanwhile he's hogging YOUR name.
So why did I go with "twentyfeet"? Basically, it was down to that or "thebelligerentplatypusdancesdelicately", which would be kind of annoying to type out. Every other name was taken. The allusion is to a story I wrote a while back, but the name is ambiguous enough that I shouldn't need to change it again in 2 years. I hope.
I'm both pleased with this new template and embarrassed by how much time I put into it. (I console myself that it will all be worth it when I win a bloggie for best design.) So what did you do with your reading week?
[+/-] 20 is the new 13 |
[+/-] Is It True Today? |
I'm not trying to find reasons to abandon my faith. Really, I'm not. I just can't help thinking about this stuff.
I try to be credulous about religious claims. Because they generally deal with the unseen, personal experience, and things beyond our knowledge, I don't want to poo-poo other's beliefs about God. I've never felt the presence or guidance of God, but others believe they have. And since I'm in no position to analyze these subjective experiences, it's not hard for me to believe that God does interact in tangible ways with some people, in some circumstances. When I hear about miraculous healing, exorcisms, prophecies, and so on, I tend to give them the benefit of the doubt. And when people tell me God answered their prayer, I recognize that I could never conclusively determine whether this is the case, and choose to trust that such things really happen.
But I find my faith in these things becomes much more difficult when I encounter them first hand. While I still believe (in the absence of any compelling evidence) that God genuinely and tangibly communicates and interacts with people, too often I hear of supposed encounters with God that I cannot help but mistrust. (Again, I'm not saying that any of these encounters are definitely fake. I'm just saying the majority of them seem pretty suspicious.) Similarly, while they sound great second hand, any exorcisms or healing or miracles that I've personally witnessed have been profoundly unconvincing, and done much to damage my faith in those I have not seen. I have no desire to disbelieve in the supernatural - just the opposite - but when I see them first hand or really sit down and think about them, I can't help but be incredulous.
I've struggled for a long time with prayer - its effectiveness, its purpose, its value. I wish to say plainly from the outset that I do not understand prayer, that any ideas I might have about it's mechanics or objectives may be dead wrong, that I have never been able to establish a habit of prayer or a desire to pray, and that I have never been in a position which merited heartfelt prayer for God's intervention (except maybe that one time). So don't tell me that I'm confused or ignorant about prayer; I already know that. I'm seeking knowledge here, not dispensing it.
As I've said above, I've always considered the question of whether God answers prayer not to be provable one way or the other. There are just too many unknowns, too many alternative explanations for both "answered" and "unanswered" prayers. It's easy to dismiss a seemingly unanswered prayer by saying that it was not God's will, that unconfessed sin got in the way, that the one who prayed was insincere, impure in motives or lacking in faith, that we fail to understand the "big picture" of God's plan, that sin and free will restrict God's action, that prayers may be answered in ways we do not expect or long after we've forgotten them, that we do not pray enough, or do not ask enough, or do not work enough, or any number of other explanations good or bad, likely or unlikely. A person such as myself who wants to believe in a God who cares for us, listens to us, and is active in our world will have no difficulty finding explanations and excuses for seemingly unanswered prayers. And never having lost a young child to cancer, never having known unalleviated hunger or sickness, never having struggled with crippling sin or physical disability or large-scale rejection or extreme hatred or cruelty or injustice, I've had relatively little to be disappointed with in prayer. I felt the sting of God's apparent apathy a couple years ago when I asked in vain for him to reveal himself to me, but the nagging questions then were how could God do this and what was I doing wrong, rather than whether God really answers prayer at all. This latter question occurred to me only a few days ago.
In the spirit of full disclosure, the question was prompted by something I read on a web site, and (in my opinion) not a particularly good website. whydoesgodhateamputees.com is a longwinded, multifaceted attack on Christian beliefs. The bulk of the arguments I skimmed through didn't strike me as particularly fair or compelling, but the argument against prayer alluded to in the title caught my attention.
It's not hard to find stories of "miraculous" (that is, improbable) answers to prayer. You've heard them in church, read them in the paper, and deleted them from your inbox. But have you ever heard of someone regaining a lost limb as a result of prayer? Assuming you haven't, do you not find this a little weird? There are countless stories of prayer healing diseases, but none (none!) of prayer regenerating severed limbs. (Or are there? I'd be grateful if you could find me one.) Why does God seem to heal all varieties of illness and infirmity, but never amputation?
I think there are two differences between the regrowth of a lost limb and other healing: it's impossible, and it's indisputable. Diseases, even the most deadly, are not invincible. All (or nearly all) can be overcome, and human bodies have been known to make inexplicable and highly improbable recoveries. But there is no natural possibility of healing for an amputee. Human limbs do not spontaneously regenerate, ever. And while sickness is enigmatic and prone to misdiagnosis and misunderstanding, amputation is black and white. If a woman has one arm today and two arms tomorrow, there can be no question that something inexplicable has occurred. No unknowns, no complicating factors, no uncertainty. And while naturally improbable recoveries from illness occur rarely, naturally impossible healing of amputees occur never. This bothers me.
Real Live Preacher tells of how his faith reached the breaking point as a hospital chaplain in his story (highly recommended). One factor was his realization that sick people tend to live when the doctors say they will live and die when the doctors say they will die, regardless of prayer however fervent, trusting, and persistent. Various sources confirm this. And now that I've really let this sink in, it bothers me.
I'm not saying all this proves anything. (As I said at the start, I don't think it's possible to prove anything about prayer.) But it bothers me. Maybe I've just not had enough good experiences with prayer. I'm sure that stories I chalk up to chance would be much more difficult to shrug off if I had experienced them personally. Maybe I just need to have more realistic (I'm tempted to say "less Biblical") expectations of prayer.
I suppose I should make a distinction between believing in God and believing that he answers prayer. At present I believe there is a God who "works all things together for good" according to his mysterious and perfect will. What I don't understand is why I ought to pray for God to change his will, or how my prayers could be necessary for God to accomplish his will, or why God seems to take great pains to make answers to prayer look like coincidences. This certainly isn't the way prayers were answered in the Bible.
But as usual I'm talking to long. What do you think? What do you believe about prayer?
[+/-] Why I (Am) Like Conservatives |
I apologize for my infrequent posting of late. You know how it is - midterms, Olympics, laziness... My primary excuse is that I've been busy setting up my new printwear business. By which I mean fooling around with photoshop. Anyway, you can see the fruits of my labours (and those of my associate, Moses) at wererevolting.com. If you're looking to buy awesome stuff, we can hook you up. But to blogging.
The other day I had the opportunity to hear a good preacher at a College & Career conference. I've heard the man before, and I have a fair bit of respect for him. He's pretty old, quite interesting, and as conservative as all get out. We don't see eye to eye ("What are you doing these days?" "I'm studying philosophy." "Oh no.") but he's a straight shooter, and I like that. The thing about him is he's really into the Bible - he preaches as if every word in that book was hand-picked and assembled by God himself, and oozes meaning. The Bible is God's message to him, and what it says, he believes.
In one of the sessions he led (of which there were many) he mentioned that Christians ought to be more active in fighting the moral decay of our society. Being the left-leaning, tolerant, wanna-be-feminist, philosophistic college-boy that I am, I'm not convinced that our society's morals are declining, and I asked him afterwards to explain what he meant. This lead to a discussion of the "homosexual war" which he feels Christians have "lost much to easily".
The Preacher, through his study of scripture, has come to believe that homosexuality is an abomination in the sight of God, and that nations which condone it are doomed to God's wrath, as were Sodom and Gomorrah. He believes that homosexual attraction is a punishment for great personal sins, that the "homosexual lifestyle" (i.e. promiscuity) is nearly universal among people with this perversion, and that it signifies an abandonment to wickedness so drastic that most people who fall into it (and most nations that permits it) are beyond repentance and will soon suffer God's wrath.
I must interject at this point and say that while I personally believe that homosexuality (not to be confused with promiscuity) is not sinful, I have no quarrel with those who disagree. I understand why many Christians believe homosexuality is wrong, based on its apparent condemnation in the Bible, and so long as they treat gays with as much respect and love as they would any other "sinners", I can respect their beliefs.
But to say that homosexuality is the worst of all sins, a nation-dooming abomination, the manifestation of the most extreme wickedness and unrepentance, is something else entirely. In my head I have a pretty good tirade for people who think this way, the main point being that you'd better really get to know the person you're condemning before you tell him he's the pinnacle of depravity.
Of course, this cuts both ways. I think I could give a good "Woe to you, Pharisees"-style speech, but you don't talk that way to a grey-haired men of God whom you've come to respect. I made my views known to him in a more humble tone, and as it turns out, the preacher does know a few homosexuals, and their lifestyles do little to cast doubt on his beliefs. I didn't have much to say in reply, except that the homosexuals I've encountered have generally been gentle, moral, and respectful of family values.
As the conversation progressed he mentioned another group of which he holds a rather dim view: philosophers. He readily admits to knowing very little about philosophy itself, but he's not been impressed with the philosophers he's met. Each seemed to him to be trying hard to cover over their (presumed) conviction of the existence of God and the truth of the Bible with empty arguments and academic pride.
These and numerous other human interactions have confirmed his conviction that God's moral law and the truth of Scripture is evident to everyone (Romans 1 kind of stuff), and that anyone who lives sinfully or rejects Christianity does so out of wicked motives. I was surprised to hear this. I told him I know a good number of non-Christians whom I believe to be living the best they can and honestly seeking truth. People who reject Christianity or Christian morals, from my perspective, tend to do so for good reasons, not out of a desire to ignore the laws of God. He listened respectfully as I explained my experiences, seeming neither troubled nor dismissive. When I was done he simply said his experiences had been the exact opposite. And he told me a story about his sister, who once took a philosophy class. Her professor spent the whole term explaining why belief in God was unreasonable. Apparently unconvinced, she wrote her term paper or the topic "Why I believe in God". The professor gave her an A, and wrote that if he'd had the experiences she'd had, he would probably believe in God too.
It bothers me that our beliefs are so strongly influenced by our experiences. I feel like there ought to be a universally evident truth - the law of God written on our hearts, or in some unassailable, God-authored book to tell us what to do - but based on my experiences, I can't see how this could be the case.
The irony is that if I really believe the filter of subjective, personal experiences so strongly prescribes our beliefs, I cannot be upset with those who believe the opposite: that God's truth is known to everyone, but heeded by few. I can try to facilitate an experience (probably a conversation) that might cause those who disagree to re-evaluate their beliefs, but I cannot look down on them for their narrow-mindedness. Narrow-mindedness is likely a product of narrow experiences (just as my open-mindedness is a product of my relatively broad experiences) and I can't fault someone for having met only wicked homosexuals, dishonest philosophers, or Christians who have a personal relationship with God. Of course, it's quite possible that someone has had experiences that ought to have prompted them to re-evaluate their beliefs, but generally I'm not qualified to say if this is the case. Just as true tolerance must tolerate intolerance, I cannot judge those who have had different experiences than my own, even if those experiences are narrow and monolithic.
I fear I may sound a bit snooty saying all of this, which is certainly not my intention. I recognize that I may be dead wrong in my broad-minded beliefs - perhaps later experiences will shed a new light on my current ones, perhaps I am subconsciously being horrifically dishonest about my experiences and motives, or perhaps I am predestined to wrong belief by a wrathful God. I do not imagine that my own experiences are any more an indicator of God's truth that anyone else's. I simply do what I believe we all do: I believe what I cannot help but believe, given my experiences.
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