Archive - February, 2010


Christians Use Lame Story To Reinforce Their Faith

This post is going to be extremely long. First I’m going to post an easily discreditable story that Christians commonly use to reinforce their faith. Then I’m going to show how unfair and inaccurate the story is. My hope is that three things will happen.

1. Christians everywhere will see what a sloppy piece of work this story is and stop using it forever.
2. Both Christians and non-Christians will learn to think a bit more clearly.
3. Christians will understand that I do not mean to insult them. I just think both sides should play fair.  I have criticized a lot of atheist arguments on this blog, and now it’s time that I criticize a Christian one.  The point is not scoring points for our side, the point is sticking by the truth wherever it is found.

Here’s a reprint of the story:

A science professor begins his school year with a lecture to the students, “Let me explain the problem science has with religion.” The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.

“You’re a Christian, aren’t you, son?”

“Yes sir,” the student says.

“So you believe in God?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is God good?”

“Sure! God’s good.”

“Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?”

“Yes.”

“Are you good or evil?”

“The Bible says I’m evil.”

The professor grins knowingly. “Aha! The Bible!” He considers for a moment. “Here’s one for you. Let’s say there’s a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?”

“Yes sir, I would.”

“So you’re good…!”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But why not say that? You’d help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn’t.”

The student does not answer, so the professor continues. “He doesn’t, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?”

The student remains silent.

“No, you can’t, can you?” the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.

“Let’s start again, young fella. Is God good?”

“Er…yes,” the student says.

“Is Satan good?”

The student doesn’t hesitate on this one. “No.”

“Then where does Satan come from?”

The student falters. “From God”

“That’s right. God made Satan, didn’t he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Evil’s everywhere, isn’t it? And God did make everything, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So who created evil?” The professor continued, “If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil.”

Again, the student has no answer. “Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?”

The student squirms on his feet. “Yes.”

“So who created them?”

The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. “Who created them?” There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized. “Tell me,” he continues onto another student. “Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?”

The student’s voice betrays him and cracks. “Yes, professor, I do.”

The old man stops pacing. “Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?”

“No sir. I’ve never seen Him.”

“Then tell us if you’ve ever heard your Jesus?”

“No, sir, I have not.”

“Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?”

“No, sir, I’m afraid I haven’t.”

“Yet you still believe in him?”

“Yes.”

“According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn’t exist. What do you say to that, son?”

“Nothing,” the student replies. “I only have my faith.”

“Yes, faith,” the professor repeats. “And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith.”

The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of His own. “Professor, is there such thing as heat?”

“Yes,” the professor replies. “There’s heat.”

“And is there such a thing as cold?”

“Yes, son, there’s cold too.”

“No sir, there isn’t.”

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain. “You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don’t have anything called ‘cold’. We can hit up to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can’t go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than the lowest -458 degrees.”

“Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.”

Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.

“What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?”

“Yes,” the professor replies without hesitation. “What is night if it isn’t darkness?”

“You’re wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it’s called darkness, isn’t it? That’s the meaning we use to define the word.”

“In reality, darkness isn’t. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn’t you?”

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester. “So what point are you making, young man?”

“Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed.”

The professor’s face cannot hide his surprise this time. “Flawed? Can you explain how?”

“You are working on the premise of duality,” the student explains. “You argue that there is life and then there’s death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can’t even explain a thought.”

“It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it.”

“Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?”

“If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do.”

“Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?”

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.

“Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?”

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

“To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean.”

The student looks around the room. “Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor’s brain?” The class breaks out into laughter.

“Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor’s brain, felt the professor’s brain, touched or smelt the professor’s brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir.”

“So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?”

Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. “I guess you’ll have to take them on faith.”

“Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life,” the student continues. “Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?”

Now uncertain, the professor responds, “Of course, there is. We see it everyday. It is in the daily example of man’s inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil.”

To this the student replied, “Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God’s love present in his heart. It’s like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light.”

The professor sat down.

The student was Albert Einstein.

And now my response:

First — FALSE.  Einstein never did this.  [Snopes.com]

Continue Reading…

To my Gramma H.

My gramma was Mrs. Yoda.  Small, old, and immensely powerful in a way that you would never expect and that took you by surprise.  My brother sent me an amazing email today, reflecting on the life and times of our Gramma Hibdon, my mom’s mom.  We lost gramma in 1992 and to this day I don’t think there’s been a single time I’ve thought about her without getting emotional.  I didn’t realize at the time how powerful she was, but as I grow older I see it more and more clearly, and my sense of loss over her passing grows not smaller but larger.  I didn’t know her very well.  I knew there was something special about her, but didn’t realize what it was at the time.  I realize it now, and I’d give anything for just 15 minutes to ask her questions – or just to sit with her and experience again the grace that just poured out of her.

Gramma was never wealthy.  In fact, she spent all her life quite poor.  She never dressed in fancy clothes, never had fancy gifts for my brother and I when she and grampa would come up from Texas to visit.  But she whistled a lot.  She smiled and sang and laughed a lot.  She oozed happiness and love.  When my brother and I were rebelling against God in our various ways, she loved us and prayed for us, but never said a single word in judgment of us.  There wasn’t a harsh or judgmental bone in her body.  (My mother is that way now.)  When you were around this woman, you knew what it felt like to be loved, valued, and accepted, exactly the way you were.  She showed us how to live.  And then, when the time came, she showed us how to die.  Today, having received this note from my brother, I miss her so much.

When I was diagnosed with MS in 1990 (I was 22), gramma told my mom that God told her I was going to be fine, and she was completely confident and worry-free.  Sure enough, 20 years later I’m fine.  A year later as she lay dying in the hospital, our pastor came to visit her.  He entered the room and gently said, “God bless you, Laura.”  Her response was two words, spoken sweetly, though straining for breath: “He does.”  Then a quiet and joyful laugh.

A few days later I got the call at work to tell me gramma was gone.  I left and ran up to the hospital where they had agreed to leave her body in the room for me, so I could spend some time there with her alone.  I don’t remember anything I said, or anything I prayed, but in those moments it began to sink in to me that we had really lost someone special.  It sinks in more every time I think of her.

Here’s to you, gramma.  Thanks for the legacy you left for us.  I can’t wait to see you again.  While you were here, you did a lot of listening while I talked.  Next time I see you, you’ll do the talking, and I’ll do the listening.  I want to know what you knew.  And if you have any tips that you can somehow pass on to me, I could sure use them now.  There were a lot of things you got right that I sometimes think I’m getting wrong, even though I haven’t known anywhere near the suffering that you did.

By the way, you’re going to be so proud of my girls.

—————

Here’s the note from my brother:

I’m seeking that Grandma Hibdon brand of peace and joy, and selflessness. Forged in the fires of poverty, tears for her children, the tragic and violent death of her mother, a child’s criminal trespass and jury trials for which she mortgaged her farm to pay the legal bills, the death of her husband, the loss of a baby, the death of a grandson from cancer, risking the judgment of others and giving everything she owned to take care of a mentally impaired grandson, even to her end struggle with cancer and death – she was faithful to the end. She jumped in the pool at every camp ground and floated feet up. Road every ride at Cedar Point – well into her 50′s and 60′s. Grandma never missed a moment. Never administered a teaspoon of guilt or shame (at least not to me). And her pain pushed her to greater heights of love and sweetness. That’s what love can do. That’s what keeping your eyes on God can do.  That’s choosing faith and life over fear and death.

Put Grandma Hibdon on the top of every list of things that kicked ass. She did it right. That’s how life is to be lived.

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