What Can We Know About Heaven and Hell?

I’ve heard a lot of sermons on heaven and hell. Too many I think. But I have noticed something interesting in the last few years: the detailed accuracy with which people describe both eternal places. Preachers seem to know everything about heaven and hell. Particularly hell. And that strikes me as strange for a couple of reasons.

First, the New Testament language about heaven is pretty vague. Certainly not up to our Western standards of rational detailed analysis. Most heavenly images are taken from Revelation which is clearly a book of symbols and Jewish apocalyptic imagery. Plus we have various experts describing heaven in detail for us, even down to what kind of house we get and what types of jobs will be waiting for us. Honestly, despite the popularity of Randy Alcorn’s book, most of that is conjecture. Peacefulness, joy, and comfort certainly describe it, but most people understand that golden streets and crystal seas are illustrations for something truly indescribable. People are okay with a preacher saying, “I don’t know everything about heaven, but I know it’s gonna be good!”

What’s more fascinating is the painstaking detail in which hell is described. Eternal torment involving fire, pain, and torture. According to most evangelial views of hell, people have the rest of eternity to sit around on fire and think about the bad things they did. Okay, that’s a little sarcastic there, but honestly hell is used more often in altar calls than heaven is. Some people, just in my questioning of the standard image of hell are getting nervous reading this right now. But what’s so strange about that is just how ambiguous the Bible is about the afterlife. People are satisfied to know that God has prepared somewhere for them in heaven and that puts their lack of detail at ease. But hell is a different story. In fact, the more detailed you can be, the better chance of scaring someone into salvation.

But really, hell is even more ambiguous than heaven. The Old Testament uses the word sheol to describe the afterlife – a word that means “grave” and little more. The Jews were relatively unconcerned about the afterlife, fully content to focus on what they could do in the present life to honor God. The New Testament seems to be more exact. But a closer look shows that there’s still much to debate. Jesus describes some ideas about it, but never really gives us details. He compares it to a local garbage dump (Gehenna) and talks about worms. And there’s more. The Greek word (aiōnios) generally used to describe the fire of hell is translated in as “eternal” – a period of time.  But in other places, the same word is used to describe an act of permanence of destruction – a state of quality. So, traditionalists say that it means eternal fire while conditionalists say it means permanent destruction (death) of the wicked. But the truth is that aiōnios and its Hebrew counterpart (olam) speak of things that all come to an end: the Passover, Caleb’s inheritance, Solomon’s Temple, and Gehazi’s leprosy. It’s just not that simple – the word means both. Similarly, traditionalists say that “gnashing of teeth” describes the torment of sinners in hell. But the ancient use found in the Old Testament assigned “gnashing of teeth” to someone about to destroy another – in the conditionalist’s case: God. So what does that mean to us today?  Honestly, it doesn’t tell us much.  And that’s the point I’m making. The same verses are used by people who believe different things about hell. And, surprisingly, I’m okay with that.

Why can we leave the details of heaven alone yet be compelled to extract every detail about hell? Because hell helps preachers out. Descriptions of hell illicit responses from people and, if used just right, can increase altar call numbers. But in doing that, I think we miss the point. When I told someone the other night that the gospel is not about them not going to hell, they looked at me strangely. They simply had never thought that there might be something beyond “fire insurance” and a list of do’s and don’ts to the gospel. The Bible shrouds the afterlife in ambiguity for a very important reason: so we won’t be tempted to bribe people into the Kingdom of God using either heaven or hell. If that’s what made you decide to be a Christian, then great. But intimacy with God lies beyond such ”survival of the fittest” techniques of evangelism. The gospel is about falling in love with a God who has already declared his unconquerable love for you.

Life Lessons Learned From TV

My wife loves “So You Think You Can Dance.”

I (by contrast) hate it.

Yet, while feeding the baby or folding laundry, I am subjected to an unconscionable amount of this show. I really don’t mind that much – sometimes I get into it. But the most interesting thing about the show is the critiquing of the judges. I know, I know. You were thinking it was the dancing that fascinates the nerd within. Sorry to disappoint… 

We were watching last week and the judges said some things that really interested me as someone who deals with people’s perception of right and wrong on a regular basis. Channing Cooke with Phillip Attmore had just finished a jive routine that seemed to be done well. It’s early in the program so the judging tends to be a little softer at this point. I perked up at Mary Murphy’s comments. She was impressed but pointed out that the couple’s leg movements were not up to par. Now, this is the part that caught my attention: she attributed their lack of sharpness to laziness. There’s something significant about that. Mary attributed their deficiencies to a personal lack of internal moral motivation. Nigel Lythgoe went next. He commented on the same lack of sharpness, but attributed it to the couple not quite being in shape for the dance style. In essence, he said their tiredness resulted in the lack of sharpness - a much softer critique attributed to external factors, not their personal integrity.

As a minister, I began to reflect on how such a simple change in perspective can make criticism harsh or constructive. The church walks a fine line in this regard. We deal with issues of the heart but have to be careful not to make a difficult situation look hopeless. If I was physically incapable of performing a task and was told that my failures were intrinsic/moral, I would feel crushed under that assumption. And that’s all it is – an assumption. We don’t have access to the motivations of others. We merely have the outward manifestation of those intentions. Often times, bad intentions are easy to spot based on the actions that follow. But there’s plenty of gray area where intentions are hidden. Some people automatically chalk up the suspect behavior of others to time-honored doctrinal catch phrases like “Original Sin” or assume that failure is always preventable. When tarred with the moral brush, that will always be assumed. But sometimes people are just weak and scatter-brained and frail. Grace gives the benefit of the doubt in those situations. “Bad” does not always equal “weak.” After all, Jesus gave rest for the “heavy laden,” not the morally corrupt.

That’s why I liked Nigel’s critique better. When you’re a world-class dancer (or anything else for that matter) it’s easy to moralize/spiritualize the amount of work required to be the best in a given field. It helps us tolerate the extreme conditions in which that expertise is developed to the detriment of other areas of our well-being. Mary, at least at this moment, seemed to be trapped inside that paradigm. Nigel transcended above it. He gave grace by attributing that weakness to joints, ligaments, and muscles – something to be strengthened – rather than to inherent laziness – something to be ashamed of. Preachers know that both of these can motivate. But which one preserves the dignity of others? As Christians continue to confront sin, we need to spend less time making sure we call “a spade a spade” and more time concerned with making sure we never call something a spade when it’s really just a heart or a club. Guilt can motivate – there’s no doubt about that. But grace preserves and strengthens. I’ll go with Nigel’s approach anytime.

Come Join the Revolution!

I have a unique opportunity to share with you during the upcoming Advent season…

A few years ago, TFUMC (as part of the Advent Conspiracy movement) launched something called Advent Revolution. We asked our congregation to spend $50 less  on Christmas gifts per person and give that money to an international cause. We chose World Help - an organization that helps fight poverty, disease, and lack of education in over 40 countries. We have raised roughly $25,000 each year to build homes for orphans and families affected by the Rwandan genocide. It’s been one of the most rewarding events our church has ever undertaken. Along with our yearly Advent Revolution ministry, we have sent groups of missionaries to help build the homes and minister to the locals on a personal level.

The most rewarding part of the process is the personal connections we’ve made with the people of Rwanda. We’re no longer giving money to an idea or concept or even images on a brochure cover. We’re now giving to people with names and faces who know us as well. For example, recently a church member gave money to help a former prostitute named Diana finish her university education. Since Diana’s personal conversion, she has also led several women out of that same bondage. Our team met Diana on our last mission trip and heard her testimony of receiving Christ. She brought a friend with her that day and the team prayed with him to receive Christ as well.

We’ve managed to cause a stir in the process.  The United Methodist periodical The Interpreter is featuring Advent Revolution in this month’s issue. We’re excited about the exposure the ministry will gain – but more importantly, we hope other church (Methodist and otherwise) will join in. Visit our website www.adventrevolution.com for more details on the movement and how it’s impacted our church in such a significant way.

The Best Decision a Methodist Pastor Can Make…

Several weeks ago, I heard about a Methodist pastor who did something radical this past year. Those of us who are not  involved in a plant or an overly contemporary Methodist church work through a number of committees and groups who help foster the growth of our congregations. For the record, I don’t think this is a bad idea. I welcome accountability and input from those I am attempting to serve. At the same time, interaction with these committees can be precarious at best. Ministers must balance progressive ideas with the amount of change they believe a congregation is willing to undertake. Every church has a saturation point. Depending on the circumstances, sometimes that’s not very much. I’m blessed in that our congregation is open to innovative ways of church growth and has done a great job of balancing a vision for the present and future.

Anyway, back to this Methodist pastor. He did something amazing. He put a 35-year-old woman with three children as chairperson of the administrative board at his church. Female. Mid-thirties. Children everywhere. Family-oriented. So, why is this such a big deal? For two reasons, really. First, who is typically in that position in traditional Methodist churches? Male. Mid-forties and fifties. Empty nester. Business-oriented. After all, he can run a business – certainly he can run a church, right? And because of this, many of the programs and mentalities that receive attention by the administrative arm of the church are the ones that meet the needs of that demographic. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course…unless that’s the only ”type” of leader to ever be appointed to that position. This pastor broke rank. He appointed a homemaker. What type of programming do you think receives attention/vision from the chairperson of their administrative board? Children’s ministries. Relationally-oriented programming like small groups. Gender-based accountability groups. Marriage enrichment programs. In other words, the areas most often experiencing atrophy in traditional church environments.

Second, their change of personnel and subsequent programming direction speaks to a truth often lost in contemporary leadership discussions. People, not systems, lead the church. Now, I love systems. I love efficiency and forward-thinking models that anticipate church growth and beat it to the punch.  But in every fast growing, progressive, innovative ministry environment, there is always a charismatic, personable visionary who drives that ministry forward. You can copy Northpoint Community Church…but you need Andy Stanley to do that. Like Mars Hill’s model? Go find a Rob Bell. Like Cornerstone in Simi Valley? You need Francis Chan for that model. All of those churches exist because those leaders were there first. Leadership is not a program or a system - it’s a person. And that’s a common mistake – investing in the system rather than in the leadership utilizing that system. Systems merely complement a well-established vision carried out by someone who is relentless in conveying it. That Methodist pastor changed the game…not when he changed systems…but when he changed leaders. And their church culture is being re-made in the process.

Is this type of change the best decision a Methodist minister can make? Maybe not. But I thought it was nothing short of genius.

Reconciling Faith and Science: Final Thoughts

Well, I think I’m done with faith and science – at least for now. I sure have learned a lot about it all. My goal wasn’t to learn how to work the mathematical equations involved in a particular scientific discipline, but rather to investigate some of the thought patterns and paradigms that inform our view of science. So, really, this was more about a “philosophy of science” than about actual laboratory procedure.

Three things really rang true for me personally in the midst of all this:

1) The “humanness” of humanity: As humans, we are incapable of laying aside our presuppositions about life and our universe. It’s just impossible it seems. Yet it’s this same human element of our lives that lead many to believe (errantly, I think) that a gulf exist between science and religion. From what I can tell, that division is artificial, just like the Cartesian dualism from which it originated. In fact, some of our most notable scientific discoveries were discovered on a “hunch” that something exists or can be explained beyond the limits of empiricism. Call it Polyani’s “Tacit Dimension” or whatever you like - all elements of humanity (including the subjective/intuitive), when equally integrated, are the future of scientific inquiry. And that includes faith in something else discoverable, whether that discovery concerns God or the natural order.

 2) The depth abyss of discovery: One of the most amazing phenomenons over the past century? Science continuing to shatter our presumptions about the unknown. We used to believe that when we came to the edge of scientific discovery, the answers lay just a few feet in front of us. But now, particularly in the areas of biochemistry and quantum physics, when we shine the light of discovery ahead of us, the answers are miles away. If anything, our continued ability to measure objects on a smaller scale has at the same time reinforced our own limits of measurability. For all our efforts, we still understand very little about our universe.

3) Humility. There’s something good about dropping all the posturing and smoke screens and just saying, “We don’t know. Maybe we’ll know in the future. To draw conclusions otherwise is not only premature – it’s arrogant.” Science and religion need constant doses of humility to guide them. Otherwise, both disciplines can fly right over the top of something grounded in the simplicity and humility of life because they are obsessed with their own pretensions. It’s also what causes science and religion to speak past each other.

Okay. Back to normal topics of life, love, family, and theology… 

Reconciling Faith and Science: Quantum Physics

One of the most interesting topics about faith and science to date is quantum physics. First, some background. For the majority of the history of modern science, scientists operated on something called Newtonian physics – based on the work of Isaac Newton.  For centuries, physics was understood in broad sweeping terms – big, simple, measurable, systematic, mechanistic, etc. According to Newton’s world, the universe could be measured in large scale equations. And rightfully so. Everything seen with the naked eye looked big and vast, so the physical properties underneath were assumed to be big and simplistic as well.  And anything that was worth investigating could be measured using classical methods of science. This is part of the reason that those who embraced the view that science and religion were not compatible had no qualms about dismissing God. He did not easily fit into the classical physics mold.

But then quantum physics was born through the work of Max Planck and Werner Heisenberg. Quantum mechanics describes physical things at an atomic and subatomic level. For example, a quantum is the name for the smallest unit of energy – and it’s tiny. Add to that more particles like quarks, gluons, and hadrons and things change drastically. Rather than try to measure things as we have in the past, Planck came up with a constant that made measuring anything very, very small. Planck’s constant looks like this: 6.626176 x 10^-34. The number I want you to notice is the 10^-34. That’s an infinitesimal number. To measure our world, we had to stop using kilometers – now we use nanometers. Heisenberg added to this confusion (or revelation) by introducing the uncertainty principle. He said that when you are measuring two physical properties against each other, the accuracy of one eventually restricts the accuracy of another. In other words, the more you can measure one thing at the quantum level and use it as a reference point for another, the more the second object becomes immeasurable. And scientists have also discovered something called superposition – that these particles can jump from place to place – sometimes existing simultaneously in two different places.

So, what does this stuff mean for people attempting to integrate faith and science? It changes everything, actually. Science in continuing to discover more about our world also exploded our previous understanding of how the world works. The stable uniform world we thought we knew for the past several centuries is now a whirling mass of infinitesimal particles that won’t stay still long enough for us to learn anything about them. Furthermore, general relativity and quantum physics are basically incompatible. So, not only do we have a new way of seeing the world, we can’t even reconcile it with previous models that we know also have supporting data. Scientists are presently attempting to reconcile general relativity and quantum physics with something called string theory (which states the world is made of ridiculously small strings that operate not in three or four dimensions, but in nine or ten). But string theory operates on a scale 16 orders of magnitude smaller than anything we can currently measure.  As with other areas of science, the more we delve into the complexities of the life, from the universe to the structure of a cell, the more issues are raised for which we have no answer. But I want to point something out to you: string theory is considered a rational scientific field of study. Yet, there’s no empirical evidence for its existence other than a hunch or two derived from our inability to perfect quantum mechanics. So what guides the day to day experiments of physicists working in that area? Faith. Faith in the idea that string theory will be able to reconcile all other physical disciplines.

Here’s something else to notice in all of this. In the area of quantum physics, the unknown or “gray” areas of conceptual thought are considered not only appropriate, but are expected. Yet, when theology is experiencing a “gray” area, it is often dismissed as unscientific. In fact, theology is held to a stricter standard of proof than those investigating string theory or chaos theory, much less some grand unified theory. For science, the unknown gray areas somehow represent progress or hope while for religion, they are conceived as doubt. But they both represent the humanness of our endeavors and should be treated with the same level of respect and care. There’s a great verse that Jesus spoke about removing the beam from your own eye before mentioning the speck in another’s. We don’t do that with science and religion – instead, we parade our experts across the stage to discredit the other. We fire shots across the bow or each other’s ship. But both ships are floating on a sea of philosophical beliefs, assumptions, worldviews, and…well…faith. Faith sends one person to church on Sunday while it sends another to the laboratory. And for many scientists who have accepted faith as part of being human, it sends them to both places in the same week.

Reconciling Faith and Science: Cosmology and the Origins of Life, Part 1

This post and the next, I want to talk to you about the recent developments in our understanding of the origins of life. A lot has happened in this area over the past several decades and scientists are still hashing out the details, just like in other disciplines. Similar to biochemistry, the discoveries of the last several decades have not closed the “gap” for science to explain away God or anything similar to that. The opposite is the case – more discovery has conveyed more complexity and intricacies that we would otherwise assume didn’t matter. It was “out of sight, out of mind.” Our discoveries, while increasing our knowledge, have also made it very clear just how little we truly understand about our universe and origins. As such, to draw inferences assuming that we do have everything figured out is certainly premature.

Let’s look at a couple of examples (this post and next) of how things have changed and what they mean for people of faith.

 The Big Bang:

The “Big Bang”  theory (originally a derogatory term) came about through the work of two scientists in the 1920s – Lemaitre and Friedmann. They took Einstein/Hubble’s data about the universe expanding and made an obvious conclusion: if the universe is expanding, at sometime in the past, the distance between all matter in the universe must have been zero. Though the model made sense, I posted about all the attempts to produce another theory that didn’t have a “starting point.” Why? Because up until the Big Bang theory, cosmologists uniformly believed that there was no beginning or end to the universe. And all research endeavors to that point had been undertaken with that assumption firmly in place, once again denoting the “humanness” of science.  But when a beginning point became a possibility, it became entirely feasible to ask what produced this beginning. In 1965, scientists found evidence of the big bang: residual radiation coming from all directions at equal length. Called cosmic microwave background radiation, their discovery silenced most critics of the Big Bang theory.

So, why is this a big deal? Well, it points to a beginning. And that makes it some of the best news science has ever produced for those looking for reconciling science and faith. For strict young earth creationists, the Big Bang is often seen as the enemy. But for all other models (various forms of intelligent design or theistic evolution, for example), this is an example of the reaffirming/collaborative effort faith and science can bring to each other. Science is still dealing with understanding this. For example, in attempting to reconstruct the precise point of the universe’s inception, astrophysicists have been able to calculate backwards to a point about 10^-43 second from the zero point. At that point, their physics breaks down due to quantum’s uncertainly principle. Does this “prove” God exists. No…the only thing it “proves” is that we don’t know what happened beyond 10^-43 second. All inferences at this point become philosophical/religious.

Aggressively Pursuing a Life of Peace

We have some life mottos around our house that guide our life decisions. Often times, these mottos aren’t always obvious to everyone. They hold a higher value on spiritual things than material things. They place more importance on relational harmony than personal gain. It also keeps us from bowing to the peer pressure that young couples face, like trying to “keep up with the Joneses.”

The first and probably most important motto comes from the verse “Seek peace and pursue it” (Psalm 34:14, 1 Peter 3:11). Romans 12:18 relays a similar idea: “Do all that you can to live at peace with all men.” We call it aggressive peace. Beth and I make decisions around the idea that in every situation, there is a peaceful and overall beneficial decision that keeps balance among our family members. If at all possible, we choose that “peaceful” solution. That’s how we make vacation plans, buy new appliances, choose schools, choose television shows or movies, etc. You get the idea. If there is a choice that leads to unrest, strife, anger, impatience, and irritation, we usually opt for something else.

Now that may sound obvious to you. But there’s a subtle difference. We don’t wait for peaceful decisions to come to us. We make peace happen for our children and for each other. We’re aggressive about pursuing peace. We fight for it. We plan for it. We do whatever it takes to maintain it. A lot of people have financial goals or material goals – and we do as well. But all of that comes from our overall peace goal. What lies behind “peace” for us? Questions like, “Which choice promotes the most security for our children?” “Which choice creates ease of life and rest for our retirement?” “How can we peacefully discipline our children?” And most importantly, “Which choice honors God and draws us to him, not away from him?”

But not only do we not wait for these options for peace to come our way. We take it a step further: we “agressively pursue” them. Beth and I discuss questions like, “What makes for a peaceful marriage?” or “What brings peace to our children?” or “What does financial peace look like?” Then we take agressive measures to implement those details into our lives. For example, with finances, we list a second round of details. Financial peace means ultimately means no financial stress: little debt, no collections calls, solid retirement plans, college saving for children now rather than later, choosing economical and sensible cars and houses, and not living paycheck to paycheck if possible. Then we aggressively make those our goals.

I guess pursuing peace as a lifestyle can only be done by someone who believes they have the ability to make their life what they want. I believe all of us can do that. But it takes a lot of thought and premeditation. And often times our decisions are not the most conventional choice. We’re not experts at this and sometimes lose our focus. And plans can certainly change. But the key is to at least have some plan in place and be willing to adjust it accordingly when life throws a curve ball. Personally, living a life of peace is a way to honor God with what he’s given us – a way to proactively reflect his image in us. Taking the initiative to make life good is not anti-Christian at all. It actually reflects the productive nature of God and his willingness to be involved in every aspect of our life. In the end, life truly is what you make of it. Our goal is to make a life of peace for each other and for our children.

Reconciling Faith and Science: Biochemistry

As we get into specific disciplines, I hope you’ll notice is just how much in science is still “open” and available for various interpretations. Many of those who embrace scientific naturalism assume the God must be jettisoned from the picture based on recent developments in science. But actually what we’ll see is that no scientific discipline has conclusive answers concerning the origins and design of anything as of right now. It’s these undetermined variables that should keep anyone from making religion and science exclusive of each other (as if they are mutually exclusive to begin with).

Biochemisty is the study of chemical processes in living things. It includes cells, proteins, enzymes, polymers, lipids, as well as genetics: DNA, RNA, and cellular membrane transport. We’re talking about the parts of life that are very small and very complex. For example, the simplest microbial life forms on earth require somewhere between 1,300 and 2,300 gene products in order to function. Now, be forwarned: the term “God in the gaps” is not the best choice – people have used this idea for centuries and once science discovers a natural cause for a “supernatural” event, people’s faith is shattered. For decades, the “gaps” were shrinking. But with the biochemical renaissance we’ve been in, the “gaps” have become huge. Science no longer simplifies the world – its discoveries are making the world more complex and less reducible to broad uniform theories. We’re no longer explaining the differences in lengths of finch beaks. Scientists are now dealing with the genetic transference in finches and its impact on the molecular composition of bird beaks – things beyond ordinary observation with the naked eye. So, classic Naturalism and religion have both painted with brush strokes that were too large for our present state of discovery.

Let me give you a couple of easy examples of life at a cellular level that make the point. Let’s start with E. coli:

E. coli is a normal inhabitant of our intestinal tract. It has been a favorite to study in science lab for over a century. In the past decade, scientists have particularly been interested in the evolutionary process of E. coli. It duplicates itself about seven times a day and has been grown continuously to thirty thousand generations (the equivalent of about one million human years). But E.coli has not consistently improved itself biologically, nor has it genetically enhanced its makeup. Left to its own devices, E. coli consistently throws away part of its foundational genetic code, specifically the part that makes RNA. Why it does this is what so interesting. The more sophisticated parts of the bacterium’s makeup are also the parts that consume the most energy. So, in an attempt to make itself more efficient, E. coli actually cripples its own ability to replicate. The behavior that random mutation produces in E. coli is positive – but it doesn’t evolve in the way we think it should. Actually, random mutation left to itself actually de-evolves the bacterium.

Next example - the HIV virus:

 Unlike E. coli, the HIV virus is much smaller and has a much greater mutation rate – so much so, that on average, each virus contains one mutation from its parent. So, every one is different. With its rapid mutation rate, every single-point mutation of the virus occurs in an infected individual up to 10⁵ times each day. Double-point mutations (where two amino acids have changed) occur in every AIDS patient at least once a day. In other words, every mutation the virus has ever wrought has occurred over and over for scientists to observe. Left to itself, the HIV virus should be an evolutionary juggernaut, but the opposite is actually the case. Though HIV develops immunity to various drugs (in an unsophisticated way similar to malaria), at the biochemical level, it has done very little. In fact there have been no significant biochemical changes in the virus at all. A hundred billion billion viruses later, biochemists state that the HIV virus binds to its host in the exact same way. Though biochemists have been able to identify better ways for the virus could bind to its host, HIV (left to its own devices under the auspices of random mutation) has not. Neither has it improved itself at a molecular level. No new structural changes or improvements. No gene duplication leading to new functions.

In both of these examples, we have millions of generations and trillions of organisms with little biochemical significance to show for it. So, the belief that an organism can improve its existence through random mutations at a cellular level is inconclusive. Does that prove the existence of an Intelligent Designer? No. That’s a philosophy question, not a science one. On the other hand, can a uniform theory of random mutation explain all improvements at a cellular level? No, particularly since examples like the two above show mutations maintaining the status quo of deteriorating the overall condition of an organism. To draw unquestioned assumption that random mutation always improves upon its predecessor is philosophy as well.

Reconciling Faith and Science: A History Lesson, Part 2

Drawing from the foundations of Enlightenment philosophy and popular forms of Positivism, modern “Naturalism” consists of two underlying precepts: 1) nature is science’s domain and 2) nothing “exists” until it can be be proven by verifiable natural causes and events. And it’s that second part that gets us in trouble.  Naturalism hinges upon the assumption that everything worth proving can only be proven through naturalistic phenomena. Supernaturalism has no value in this worldview. Once again, it’s an “either/or” approach to life where only one explanation is possible. Belief, religion, perspective, and feeling have no place in naturalism, hence all the “prove to me that God exists and I’ll believe” pundits out there. Similarly, many feel that to choose religious meaning makes someone “unscientific” (which is why some reacted strongly to the “humanness” of science posts that start here). Unfortunately, most modern scientific disciplines were drastically affected by post-Enlightenment naturalism at the turn of the twentieth century. For many, evolutionary theory, chemistry, biology, psychology, social sciences, and physics all start with Naturalism.

A dark period in theology followed as theologians and philosophers attempted to remove the “supernatural” elements from the Bible to make it more palatable to the Positivistic age. For example, Thomas Jefferson, believing he was doing Christianity a favor, edited and released a new Bible for the modern thinker. What did Jefferson edit out? All the “supernatural” events in the Gospels. My favorite book title from this period is John Toland’s Christianity Not Mysterious. Toland’s point was that Christianity was a “reasonable” and rational moral choice when released from the shackles of religious superstition. For you history buffs out there, this all coincided with the rise of Scottish Common Sense philosophy, Moral philsophy, and the rise of the academic freedom movement in higher education.

Though progress seemed to be supporting the advances of science, something in the 1940s changed all of that: World War II. People began to realize that no matter what technological advances were made, they could not free the world from evil. Popular forms of positivism crashed and burned as we entered the Postmodern phase of history. However, “fundamentalists” in the area of science still assert that there is no other option for understanding our world other than Naturalism. The most recent form of Naturalism is particularly nasty and many atheists find themselves in this category. Here are some quotes:

Richard Dawkins (Oxford biologist) (The God Delusion) wrote this: “It may be that humanity will never reach the quietus of complete understanding if we do, I venture the confident prediction that it will be science, not religion, that brings us there.” See, for Dawkins, it’s “either/or.”

Christopher Hitchens (God Is Not Great) states: “Religion has run out of justifications. Thanks to the telescope and the microscope, it no longer offers an explanation for anything important.” Let me point out that Hitchens, a journalist, is thanking inanimate objects here…

 These guys, though highly trained and quite knowledgeable, suffer from something called “explanatory monism.”  Explanatory monism assumes (believes) that there is only one explanation available for anything. The same “either/or” scenario in Rene Descartes’ view of the world. They choose naturalism and therefore feel they must reject supernaturalism of any sort. So, they overreach for natural explanations to religious issues or merely dismiss religion altogether. What’s so sad about this (other than the fact that their mothers should’ve taught them not to be so intolerant of opinions outside their own) is that this singleness of assumption is not necessary for pure scientific inquiry. Yet, it plagues our view of popular science today…and it’s the sole reason that many people believe that science and faith are incompatible. So, we’re not really talking about faith vs. science, are we? We’re actually talking about the technical discipline of science vs. the philosophical system of “scientific naturalism.” Science vs. Scientism.

Here’s that G.I. Joe quote again: “Emotions are not based in science, and if you can’t quantify or prove something exists…well, in my mind it doesn’t.” Anyone can choose to believe this way…so far as they recognize that it’s truly a belief system crafted from of our Western post-Enlightenment milieu. And those who do will never be able to reconcile faith and science. Scientific naturalism keeps them from doing so.