On the Still, Small Voice

A few months ago, when Hope Community Church (the church I attend while in college; I highly recommend it for anyone who is interested) was preaching through the book of 1 Corinthians, they did an excellent mini-series on spiritual gifts. The takeaway verse was 1 Corinthians 12:7, "Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good." He went into detail on the specific gifts Paul names in places, like wisdom, prophecy, helping others, and, of course, speaking in tongues. From these sermons I concluded that I have the Spiritual gift of wisdom; I'm able to listen to God's "still, small voice" and share what He teaches me with others.

I could post multiple times on spiritual gifts, but my focus this time is on a specific instance of the gift of wisdom that happened to me last night. While at the weekly meeting for Campus Crusade of Christ, during worship, I asked God in prayer, "What's the most amazing thing You've done in my life?" I can't fully express how cool it is to ask God questions like this and (sometimes) get an answer back. This time I did get an answer: "The most amazing thing if that I have given you life." (I don't remember the exact wording) At first I took this to mean that I'm alive, i.e. that I have earthly life, but then I realized He probably meant the true, eternal life I've been given through the Spirit, by the sacrifice of Christ.

That in itself is pretty cool. But the fact that the answer came in specific words, that there is an 'exact wording' deserves further mention. As a rule, I think in concepts. Once those concepts solidify or make sense, my brains puts them into words for the sake of communication, if only with myself. Since my brain starts with a meaning and puts it into words, it's impossible for me to misunderstand or misinterpret my own thoughts. Unless other people think much more differently from me than I thought, I would guess this is the case for most people.

So the fact that I misunderstood this already-worded answer, if only briefly, tells me that it's not from the echo chamber of my mind; that this "still, small voice" really is God speaking to us. Or I'm just crazy. Or both!

On the Theater

Apologies for my silence, blogosphere. (Blagonet? Interbleg?) My extended absence has been due to a number of factors like my own apathy, various hassles and busyness, and especially the two weeks I spent working several hours a day as a stagehand on a play in Rarig, Live the Revolution. It was an epic show in Rarig's basement Xperimental theater exploring the revolutionary spirit, and I'm glad to have been a part of it.

I find it perplexing how along with my computer science major, I'm developing a strong interest in theater, particularly technical theater. I love going behind the scenes, building things, making things work. Maybe it's the same urge to learn how things work under the surface and make them work that makes theater so interesting to me. One of my ultimate goals is to figure out some way to combine these two passions, but as of now I have no ideas; it's looking likely that I'll get a job in computing and work in theater whenever I have time.

My job for Live the Revolution was pretty simple. I set backstage and worked with props to make things go smoothly for the actors. I moved things around, held the curtain open for them, and especially worked with coiling and tying the rope. (I should devote a future post to the particulars of rope, which people could benefit from knowing) If the audience had no idea I existed, then it was a good show. Since the show was in a small black box setting, my section of the backstage was smaller than a prison cell and a good deal darker.

The play itself was quite a unique one. Apparently it had been forming since last fall as interested actors signed on. They helped write it themselves, along with the director and dramaturg, and several of them recited poems during the play that they presumably wrote about issues and people important to them. The play was an abstract, metaphorical exploration of revolution and fighting for change. Though it raised some political issues I wasn't so sure of, I really enjoyed its poetry and inspiration to stand up for what you believe in. Besides regular acting, it contained a shadow puppet play, a musical number, and numerous wordless songs composed by the cast by each contributing simple sounds.

Overall, I was amazed by the uniqueness of the play stemming from its strong message and the level of involvement of the actors themselves in its creation. I only signed on for the last two weeks before its run, and I felt humbled to be a part of something so big and involved. That about sums up my love for tech; I don't like being in the spotlight, I like being the one running it, making things work and being a small but integral part of something amazing. Hanging lights is always fun, too.

On Effective Certainty

The gist of the Mars Hill talk today was how we should be humble in our knowledge, acknowledging that we could be wrong and submitting to external sources in our claims. Some interesting points were made, like how liberal arts scholars can get much more "out there" in the stuff they believe because their claims are not immediately tested and evaluated by science or the "real world". However, an annoying idea underflowed much of the discussion, namely that humans are fallible, and even if objective truth is out there we can't necessarily know it, or really be sure of anything due to our limited perspectives. As is sadly usual for me, I didn't manage to formulate my thoughts in time to say something, so I write here instead.

Just because we are fallible doesn't mean we are always wrong, or can never be right or sure of anything. Obviously you can be 100% certain of facts about yourself; your name, favorite color, ability to do triple integrals, etc. People of the view I just described would attack virtually any knowledge that falls outside this boundary, reducing it to "beliefs" that may or may not be true, but that in any case we can't be certain of. We can't know anything outside ourselves with absolute certainty, they say.

In response to this, I'd like to introduce a term called "effective certainty". I don't know for certain that the basic axioms of logic that underpin math, philosophy, and common sense are absolutely true, but as virtually every conscious moment of my life has served to reinforce those axioms, I can be so close to absolutely certain of their truth that it's not worthwhile to consider that they could be wrong. I can consider them to be unquestionably true unless someone brings them into question to me. I am "effectively certain" of their truth, in that doubt of their truth does not influence my life or thoughts in any way.

The same is true for the actual, objective existence of the physical world. If I really am just a brain in a jar with electrodes or something, how would I possibly know that or do anything about it? I definitely wouldn't go around sticking my finger in outlets trying to escape such a remote possibility; it makes no difference whatsoever in how I live. By being effectively certain of these things we get science. The theories of science are also examples; we don't know for certain that gravity always works as Newton/Einstein predict, but as we have no counterexamples or -evidence, it's not really worth it to question them except in singular cases.

So, we need not let our lack of absolute certainty stop us from trying to find absolute truth. As I already proved, it is out there, and though we are fallible and can be wrong, we can also be right, and be effectively certain of this. Of course, with many things, like a new theory or idea, it's important to have some doubt and be open to the possibility that we could be wrong. I'm only trying to establish that we can be effectively certain of a good deal of things outside our own existence and rely on these truths in our lives.

One last note: I wouldn't include faith in God in this category of effective certainty. Faith necessarily involves somehow leaping over the limit of where reason can bring us. It is wholeheartedly believing with somehow insufficient evidence to make a purely rational conclusion, whereas effective certainty must be built on mountains of evidence. However, doubt is still damaging to faith, so we should try not to let it affect us, living on it the same way we would with effective certainty. Faith (in the Christian God, at least) is also a relationship besides just belief of facts, further distinguishing it from effective certainty.

On Absolute Truth

This is the first in a series of apologetics-related posts where I try to explain or defend various elements of the Christian faith. Before starting, I'll outline my view on apologetics. I don't think it's possible to objectively 'prove' Christianity in such a way that a rational person would be compelled to believe it. Christianity is more than just a religion, or set of beliefs: it's a dynamic relationship with God, and entering into such a relationship will always take a leap of faith. That's not to say, however, that apologetics is useless. Many people have intellectual obstacles to believing; questions of faith or unresolved issues with some element of Christianity. The duty of apologetics is to clear away these obstacles and make straight the path to belief.

That said, today I'm going to prove the existence of absolute truth. Cool, huh? I imagine many of you have heard some variant of this, but maybe I just feel it's everywhere because I read lots of books that deal in such things.

The basis of my proof is this: the statement "There is no absolute truth," or "Truth is relative," or any such variant, is self-refuting in much the same way as "This statement is false." If there really is no absolute truth, and truth is relative for everyone everywhere as postmodernists would claim, then it's absolutely true that there is no absolute truth, which is a contradiction. If there is no absolute truth, then making sweeping statements saying so is impossible. So clearly absolute truth does exist. This says nothing about what that absolute truth is like or what is absolutely true. The important thing is that it opens the possibility for this truth to exist. There is real, objective truth out there, and we may as well try to find it.

On How the Giant Pliers in the Sky will Come to Kill Us All

Google has foreseen it. I recommend running to the nearest cave as soon as possible. Or Middlebrook Hall; as vice president, I will protect us from the giant transdimensional pliers!

On Evangelism

Apologies for the long silence; I've been staying quite busy with homework, classes, and running for vice president of my dorm; here's hoping I win! But I finally have some free time and I feel compelled to use some of it on this blog. Anyway, today at Hope Community Church we're in the aftermath of an epic 14-month trek through 1 Corinthians, most of which I was present for. (Except last summer) This week, our pastor was apparently celebrating by going skiing in the Rockies, so we had a guest pastor talk about church planting, an activity that is very important to Hope. For his message, he went through some Biblical examples of church-planting in Acts 17.

Basically Paul goes to Thessalonica and spends several seeks among the Jews there, talking in their synagogues to try and persuade people that Jesus is their awaited Messiah. In one of my favorite translations in the NIV, some Jews were opposed to Paul and "rounded up some bad characters" to riot against Paul, basically running him out of town. Paul goes to Berea and repeats his message, where more people listen, but the same troublemakers come and force him out again. Finally Paul goes to Athens and, while waiting to be joined by his brothers in Christ Timothy and Silas, starts conversing with the Greek philosophers, who invite him to explain his teaching at the Aeropagus (also known as Mars Hill, the namesake for our discussion group). He then presents a quick, eloquent explanation of the gospel, using the Greeks' devotion to their religion and their altar "to an unknown god" as a starting point.

Several points can be taken from this passage. Paul's commitment to his mission (and his message) is made pretty clear after he keeps preaching the gospel after being repeatedly run out of town and threatened by some "bad characters". In 2 Corinthians 11, he goes into more detail about the troubles he's been through for the gospel: imprisonment, flogging, being shipwrecked, going hungry, and the concerns that come from being responsible for churches all around the Mediterranean. This Christianity thing is clearly much more than a social club where people share feel-good stories and sing songs. No one dies for a social club.

Besides all the threats, Paul also perseveres amidst discouragement. Each time his message has some believers and (often a lot of) detractors. He doesn't convince everyone. This mirrors evangelism today where it's so easy to think we're not accomplishing anything, that no one is listening. It's a matter of faith to believe that God really is making a difference through our proclamation of His message. Paul also doesn't seem to have much time to start any kind of formal, established church in any of the three places. Of course, a church in those days was basically a big Bible study meeting in someone's house to worship God, a bit easier to set up than a modern church. The important thing for Paul was simply to help people understand God and the gospel, and train leaders to steward the church after he left.

One other thing we can get out of this chapter is how Paul makes an effort to speak to his audience out of their culture, in a way that makes sense to them. In the synagogues he speaks from the Jewish scripture to prove that Jesus is the messiah. On Mars Hill he builds off of the Greeks' religious practices and even cites one of their poets. He's attempting to make his message less foreign and more credible by linking it to sources and traditions his audience considers reliable. This kind of cultural awareness and willingness to adapt the delivery of the gospel to your audience is no less important today.

But though Paul adapts the way he preaches the gospel to make it more palatable to his audience, he never adapts the message itself. He doesn't try to hide or obscure the parts of it that will be difficult of might turn people away; for the Greeks it was the resurrection, in modern culture it tends to be judgment, hell, or even Christianity's claim to absolute truth and the only way to heaven. You might win more people over to a diluted, feel-good version of Christianity, but is it a victory if they don't know the real God? Going back to my emergent church post, it's smart of them to be aware of postmodernism and try specifically to speak to this culture, but diluting the gospel with the fuzzy truth and relativism of postmodernism is dangerous.

On Lay vs. Lie

Some Buffalo Wild Wings trivia brought an issue that is very important to me to mind. As a Computer Science major, usually the only grammar issues I care about are Java syntax and parentheses count. (Note the mismatched whatever-you-call-it in that sentence) But on the issue of the use of the words 'lay' and 'lie', I will never relent. No, never! I see them misused online, in song lyrics, and by my fellow students. I had a fantastic English teacher in high school who taught me how to use these tricky words, and I will share her wisdom now.

'Lay' has an object; it always acts on something; you lay something down. It could be your keys on the counter, a bag on the ground, or yourself on a bed. It's also the past tense of 'lie', which probably confuses a lot of people. So, for example, you could say "I lay myself down in bed" or "I lay there all last night." The past tense of 'lay' is 'laid'.

'Lie' has no object; it's reflexive. After you lay an object down, if it's inanimate it will lie there until someone picks it up. i.e. "You look tired; you should lie down awhile."

Hopefully this clears up some confusion. Now go and lay down the law...s of grammer.