http://themindrenewed.com/interviews/206-int-17

The interview notes URL is:

http://themindrenewed.com/interviews/22-interviewnotes/205-int-17n

I also recommend you go to “The Mind Renewed” home page,

http://themindrenewed.com/

where you will find other interesting interviews conducted by Julian Charles.

Please read Hebrews 11:1-3

Every mountaineer, or even serious hill-walker, has had the experience. You surmount what you thought was the high-point, only to find that further and higher peaks lie before you. Hebrews is a little like that. In 8:7-13 we reached the pinnacle of the Writer’s theological argument, the unveiling of the new covenant. But a further peak appeared as we considered the outcome of that covenant — the believer has been ‘perfected for ever’ (10:12-18). We then discovered yet another high-point in 10:19-25, which sets out the implications of the covenant in terms of our approach to God, our eternal hope, and our relationship to our fellow-believers. Can there be further heights to scale?

The answer is ‘yes’, and Hebrews 11 is just such — a spiritual massive indeed. But what has this greatly-loved passage on faith to do with the new covenant? Does the Writer set off on a new tangent in Hebrews 11?

The answer is ‘no’, for faith has everything to do with the new covenant. Although this covenant receives no explicit mention in Hebrews 11, the antecedent covenant of promise features strongly in the chapter — especially in relation to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. If further proof is required, we need only look ahead to 12:24, where believers are told that they ‘have come … to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant’. How do we come to Jesus? By faith, of course.

Faith and the new covenant (11:1)

Although there is no explicit mention of faith in 8:7-13, where Jeremiah’s  prophecy of the new covenant is presented, there can be no doubt that faith is integral to the enjoyment of this covenant. On God’s part, we enter the new covenant through election, effectual calling and regeneration. But on our part we enter through God’s gift of faith. It is by faith in Christ, says Paul, that ‘we have access into this grace in which we stand and rejoice in hope of the glory of God’ (Rom. 5:1-2). As must be evident, ‘grace’ and ‘hope of the glory of God’ are a fair summary of the present and future benefits of the new covenant. Faith, then, is the door of the covenant.

This emerges clearly in the opening verse of chapter 11, where we read: ‘faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen’ (11:1). These words are normally seen as a definition of what faith is, and we shall consider them in this way presently. But before doing so, notice how the Writer here links faith to two essential aspects of the new covenant — hope and invisibility! In fact, of course, these two aspects are themselves related, for Paul tells us that ‘we are saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees?’ (Romans 8:24).

Unlike the old covenant, with its manifest glory and public ceremonies, the new covenant is invisible. As Paul declares: ‘we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal’ (2 Cor. 4:18). Gone is the visible earthly tabernacle — replaced by a heavenly sanctuary which is ‘not of this creation’ (9:11). Gone are the animal sacrifices, with their annual (and indeed daily) reminder of sin and atonement. They are replaced by a once-for-all satisfaction  that occurred historically two millennia ago (10:3, 12). Gone is an all-too-human high priest, richly arrayed, esteemed by men, conducting endless and complex rituals in the sight of all the people. The great high priest of the new covenant is invisible, for he has passed through the heavens into the presence of the unseen God (4:14).

It was, perhaps, the loss of this visible element in religion that troubled the Hebrews and tempted them to return to their former ways. The same is often true today. People seek reassurance in what is tangible, visible and ritualistic. Many churches pander to this desire, adorning their so-called priests in special robes, elevating them above the laity, and glorying in their priestly powers. Their church buildings are ornate, a celebration of human artistry — earthly tabernacles that delight the sensibilities of man but are irrelevant to the worship of God in Spirit and in truth.

Even in evangelical churches there is often a tendency to dress-up; to create ‘atmospheres’; to provide spectacle of one sort or another; to capture the eye and focus the mind on visible religion. But our hearts and minds ought rather to be set on the invisible Christ who ministers in the heavenly sanctuary. And for that, we need faith!

Similarly, just as we cannot ‘see’ the invisible entities of the new covenant without faith, neither can we entertain hope concerning them. Men may have vague and tentative ‘hopes’ about such matters as righteousness and heaven, but without faith such hopes are groundless. A person suffering from a terminal disease may still ‘hope’ to be cured, but this may be no more than wishful thinking.

But the hope that believers have in Christ is altogether different, because  ‘faith is the substance [foundation] of things hoped for’ (11:1). When we hope our hopes in faith, we do so with assurance — for they are grounded in certainty.

Defining faith (11:1-2)

So our verse demonstrates the essential link between faith and new-covenant hope. But it also tells us something about the nature of faith itself. This is important, for there is much confusion over this matter. ‘Now faith’, avers the Writer, ‘is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen’ (11:1).

Some commentators do not see the verse as a definition of faith. For example, Hywel Jones, in his excellent Let’s study Hebrews, argues that 11:1 is deficient as a definition because Christ is not mentioned as the object of faith [1]. But this is a little unfair, since the Writer has spent the first ten chapters of the epistle establishing this very point and returns to the subject in 12:1-2, where he bids us  look to ‘Jesus, the author and finisher of faith’.

Others, like Kistemaker [2], prefer to read the verse subjectively — ‘faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see’ — rather than as an objective definition of faith (though he does not rule out the latter). Bruce also favours the subjective sense but helpfully adds: ‘Physical eyesight produces conviction or evidence of visible things; faith is the organ which enables people … to see the invisible order’ [3].

However, Lane [4] insists that ‘key to the interpretation of these complementary clauses is recognition of the objective character of the decisive terms [substance and evidence]’. He continues: ‘faith is something objective that bestows upon the objects of hope … a substantial reality’ [5].

Who is right? Perhaps an illustration will help us understand what the Writer is telling us here about the nature of faith. If I ask you to define the word ‘bicycle’ you could reply that a bicycle is a machine consisting of a frame, two wheels, pedals, steering-means, and so on. You would have defined the bicycle objectively, that is, as an object.

Alternatively, if you are a keen cyclist, you might simply say that a bicycle is something you enjoy riding. This tells me nothing about a bicycle as such but only about your subjective experience of it. It is a fully subjective definition.

However, there is a third possibility. You could define the bicycle as ‘a man-powered means of transport’. This would be neither an objective nor a subjective definition, but a functional definition. Hebrews 11:1 is best understood in this way — as a functional definition of faith.

On this view, the verse means: ‘faith gives substance to things hoped for and provides conviction or evidence concerning things not seen’. In other words, the verse tells us what faith does for us. In harmony with this view, Owen comments: ‘[things] hoped for … have a present subsistence given unto them; as they are unseen they are to be made evident: both which are done by faith’ [6]. And again: ‘[faith] is the cause and means giving them a subsistence’ [7].

Although, therefore, this verse does not amount to a fully objective definition of faith, it necessarily implies that faith is an objective reality — a faculty by which believers apprehend the unseen realities of God. In short, faith is spiritual ‘eyesight’ or discernment (1 Cor. 2:14). It was ‘by faith’ that Moses ‘endured as seeing him who is invisible’ (11:27; emphasis added).

Because faith enables us to discern spiritual realities, it also allows us to trust in them. Because by faith we behold Christ’s glory, ‘full of grace and truth’ (Jn. 1:14), we are able to receive the grace and believe the truth that reside in him. Because we discern by faith the efficacy of the blood of Christ to cleanse our consciences from sin, we are enabled to trust savingly in the atoning work he has performed. As William Cowper wrote;

E’er since by faith I saw the stream

Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming love has been my theme,

And shall be till I die.

This element of trust is vital. Spiritual discernment alone is not saving faith. The devils are fully cognisant of spiritual truth, but their knowledge of that truth does not save them — they ‘believe and tremble’ (Jas. 2:19). When someone is ‘born again’ by the work of the Holy Spirit (Jn. 3:3-8) they not only receive the gift of spiritual sight but by it are caused to love and know ‘the only true God and Jesus Christ whom [he has] sent’ (Rom. 5:5; Jn. 17:3). As a result, the faith-endowed soul is ‘not disobedient to the heavenly vision’ (Ac. 26:19). It trusts its Saviour and worships its Lord. But without the faculty of faith it could do neither.

This is why the Writer can continue: ‘For by [faith] the elders obtained a good testimony’ (11:2). More literally, they ‘had witness borne to them’, that is, they ‘received the divine commendation’ [8]. God could hardly commend them for the faith he had provided as a gift — but he could do so for the way they used it to demonstrate their trust and confidence in his wondrous person and divine purpose.

The ‘elders’ here are not leaders of synagogues or churches as is usual in the New Testament writings, but simply those who believed and trusted God ‘of old’. They were elders, not on account of age or eminence (some of this chapter’s heroes were young and obscure), but because they were mature in faith.

Faith and understanding (11:3)

So far we have learned three things. Firstly, we need a new faculty, faith, to apprehend the invisible spiritual realities of the new covenant. We need it because ‘the natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; nor can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned’ (1 Cor. 2:14).

Secondly, this discernment or ‘spiritual sight’ is imparted to the soul during regeneration, for ‘unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God’ (Jn. 3:3; emphasis added). Faith is thus the gift of God. It is not a natural faculty that resides in human nature and can be awakened by appropriate means, as Arminianism teaches. Paul reminds the Ephesians: ‘by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God’ (Eph. 2:8). The whole of salvation, including the faith that saves, is God’s gift.

Thirdly, we have seen that faith involves not only a knowledge of spiritual things but trust in, and obedience to, the things revealed — specifically, obedience to the gospel of Christ (1 Pet. 1:2).

But this by no means exhausts the meaning of faith, for we are next told that ‘By faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that the things which are seen were not made of things which are visible’ (11:3). The assertion that ‘by faith we understand …’ is most important.

Commonly, faith is considered to be the antithesis of reason or understanding. Even Isaac Watts wrote: ‘Where reason fails with all her powers, there faith prevails and love adores’. While we understand what Watts is saying, he does give the impression that faith is somehow contrary to or independent of rational thought.

Many Christians hold erroneous views of faith as something irrational. But if this were so, we could not ‘understand’ anything by faith! The problem here is a confusion of categories — faith and reason are not alternative routes to knowledge, any more that physical sight and reason are alternatives.

Sight provides information — ‘sense-data’ if you like. Then reason operates on these data to provide an understanding or interpretation of the things observed. There is no conflict between sight and understanding — they are complementary. Indeed, without sight (or other senses, of course) there would be nothing to understand, for we would remain ignorant of the world around us.

This analogy with physical sight helps to clarify the way in which faith facilitates understanding. Faith, as spiritual sight, reveals unseen spiritual realities. These are the data on which reason then operates to reach an understanding of spiritual truth. We all know this from experience, if we are believers. Our minds are active as we read the Scriptures — as we hear them expounded or meditate upon them. The idea that we can receive valid spiritual impressions without the involvement of the mind is cultic and dangerous. It lies at the root of Charismatic excesses, mysticism and many other errors. Genuine Christian experience involves the whole person, including the emotions and the will —but it never bypasses the mind and understanding.

This is well demonstrated by a single example. In Romans 12:1-2, Paul makes the transition from his doctrinal treatise to the application of the doctrines. In the light of ‘the mercies of God’, he calls on his readers to ‘present [their] bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God’. Why should they do that? Because, says the apostle, it is their ‘reasonable service’.

The word ‘reasonable’ is the Greek logikos, meaning rational or logical. He is, in effect, asking them to consider the great salvation that is theirs in Christ and to work out, logically, what response is appropriate on their part. There can be only one answer, of course, as he tells them. But it is a rational response that he seeks, through the ‘renewing of your mind’ (Rom. 12:2), rather than one that is merely emotional or volitional.

Understanding creation (11:3 cont.)

To illustrate how faith leads to understanding, the Writer chooses the largest topic imaginable — the creation of the universe! ‘By faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God’ (11:3). The word translated ‘worlds’ is literally ‘ages’, that is, all things that exist in space and, particularly, time. ‘Framed’ means established or created, and the agency of this creation is identified as ‘the word of God’. Although creation is unambiguously attributed to Christ in 1:2 — as well as in other places such as John 1:3 and Colossians 1:16 — the Writer nowhere describes Christ as ‘the Word’, nor is the Greek word logos used here. His reference is, rather, to God’s spoken word in Genesis 1 — ‘God said let there be … and there was …’ (Gen. 1:3, 6, 9, 11 etc). This reminds us that faith feeds upon God’s self-revelation in the Bible. When Scripture says God formed the worlds by his word, faith believes it and understands it to be so.

What exactly is it that we understand concerning creation? ‘That the things which are seen [the visible universe] were not made of things which are visible’ (11:3). The Writer may here be correcting the theory, advanced by Plato, that God’s ‘all-powerful hand created the world out of formless matter’ [9]. On the contrary, asserts the Writer, the universe was made without material (visible) precursors. This is the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo —  creation from nothing.

Careful commentators point out that the Writer simply states a negative — the universe was not made from visible precursors. With the hindsight of modern science, for example, we might see this as an inspired insight into the fact that all matter is composed of invisible entities such as atoms, protons, neutrons, electrons, quarks and so on. However, this is a little too ingenious. The most obvious interpretation is the simplest, namely, that the verse teaches a straightforward ex-nihilo creation by divine fiat. God spoke, and space, time, matter and energy sprang into being at his command. This is wholly consistent with the Writer’s assertion in 1:3 that Christ is, even now, ‘upholding all things by the word of his power’.

This has implications for the modern debate on origins. Those who believe the plain meaning of Scripture find themselves at loggerheads with others who promote the doctrine of evolution. It is sometimes tempting for creationists to seek ‘proofs’ of creation by appeal to scientific observations — such as evidences for a young earth or against the random evolution of complex biological systems. Such arguments are important as a means of refuting the claims of evolutionists, but they can never amount to a proof of ‘special (i.e. miraculous) creation’. Why not? Because our understanding of God’s work of creation derives ultimately from faith, not from scientific exploration or theorising. If it were possible to ‘prove’ special creation by scientific tests or philosophical arguments, the Writer could never have made the statement he does in 11:3.

References

1. Jones p.122

2. Kistemaker pp. 309-311

3. Bruce p.279

4. Lane 2 p.328

5. Lane 2 p.329

6. Owen 7 p.7

7. Owen 7 p.8

8. Bruce p.279

9. Lane 2 p. 332

To some this article may seem to be of limited interest. But we all listen to preaching and may ourselves be involved in ‘public’ teaching — in Bible studies, Sunday Schools, youth fellowships,  women’s meetings and so on. The ability to speak with greater confidence to a group or congregation is therefore germane to many of us and not only preachers in the usual sense. I hope, therefore, that what follows will be of interest to all who engage in teaching the Word of God, even though I shall address myself chiefly to preaching as such.

Why preach without notes?

There are several reasons why this is desirable but first let me list a few caveats!

1) While most preachers would, I think, like to preach without notes, this is not for everyone. It is far better to preach a good sermon or message using notes (or even by reading a full script) than to preach a poor one without these aids.

2) Congregations should not think a preacher is somehow superior if he dispenses with notes. The value of his ministry must be judged and appreciated according to its spiritual fruit and the blessing it brings — by its manna rather than its manner!

3) Nor should the note-less preacher feel superior to others, or the note-tied preacher feel inferior; the Spirit of God can and does use their ministries alike.

This being said, there are definite advantages in preaching (or teaching) without reliance on notes or scripts, so let me also list these.

1) Preaching without notes (hereafter ‘PWN’) allows greater liberty in preaching. The preacher can look up at his audience rather than down at his notes and thus speak directly to the people as we do in normal conversation. This means that the hearers feel more involved — that they are being addressed personally  — which helps both their attention and comprehension. Conversely, the preacher can better judge the hearers’ reactions. Are some restless or bored? Then it’s probably time to move on to a new point or insert an unplanned illustration. Are some looking puzzled or confused? Then further explanation is called for — and so on. In modern parlance, PWN can be much more interactive.

2) PWN allows greater flexibility in preaching. I often find that up to a third of what I say during a sermon is unpremeditated. A relevant scripture flashes into the mind or an unplanned illustration emerges unbidden from the subconscious. It also means that the preacher can adjust rapidly to the audience. For example, if visitors or strangers join an otherwise familiar congregation it is usually easy to introduce an unplanned evangelistic note at a suitable point in the message.

3) PWN allows greater passion and pathos in preaching. Unlike lecturing, preaching is not just a means of imparting information. It also calls for communication on an emotional level (pathos) and on a motivational level (passion). It must evidence not only a knowledge of biblical truth but a love and zeal for that truth. These ‘dimensions’ are more readily achieved when speaking directly to people in a ‘flow of consciousness’ than when constantly consulting notes or reading from a script.

How can we preach without notes?

Having briefly explained why PWN is desirable we can now turn to the ‘how’ question — how can PWN be learned and accomplished? It would be foolish to think that there is only one way to achieve this end, so please do not treat this article as a comprehensive guide to the subject. All I will attempt to do here is describe how I personally go about it, hoping that some of what I write will be of value to others.

Once I have chosen a text, passage or subject, hopefully under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, my first task is to acquaint myself thoroughly with the context. This, of course, must be done however we preach but in preparing to PWN there is an additional requirement, namely to commit that context to memory as far as possible. I do not mean that I memorise, say, a whole chapter of Jeremiah, but I do memorise the key verses in the passage on which I intend to preach. These will be the basis of the sermon outline, points or headings. I also familiarise myself with the wider context (commentaries can be helpful here). In this process I also check out the literal original-language significance of key words.

Why memorise? because I find it essential to meditate deeply on the material I will use in PWN. I need to discover what the writer is actually saying, relate this to other Scriptures, and if necessary interpret it by comparing scripture with scripture. This is specially important when preaching from the OT, where I always seek to bring a NT and Christological perspective to bear. The great advantage of memorising is that this meditation can be carried out anywhere at any time. Personally I spend the time between turning out the bedside light and being overcome by sleep for meditation, as well as any wakeful hours in the night. Meditating while walking is another effective use of time (though I don’t advise meditating while driving because it can be distracting!) Biblical meditation has been described as ‘cutting and polishing the gemstone of Bible truth and turning it this way and that until shafts of spiritual light strike down into the soul’. Unless that light does so strike I do not feel I have a message from the Lord. I need to be excited about the truth I am preaching if others are to be moved by it also. So I must preach the sermon to myself before I deliver it to others.

It is in this process of meditation that the sermon is forged and, crucially, burned into the memory — where it must of course reside if we are to dispense with notes. I then rehearse the whole sermon in my mind several times in the days leading up to its delivery and this usually gives rise to several slightly different versions of the message, perhaps with different emphases, alternative illustrations and so on. Another important aspect is to link the text or passage with a small number of other scriptures that illuminate and focus it — especially in the all-important areas of interpreting the OT and of application. I find that it best to limit these cross-reference to no more than three or four, which gives me time to dwell on them for a while when preaching. Too many cross-references lead to a ‘paper chase’ that distracts the hearer from the main message and can become confusing and boring. Finally, I use my books to look up details of the historical, sociological and intellectual background of the passage and the issues involved.

Delivering the sermon

If all this sounds daunting let me conclude with a reassuring comment. PWN is not, in fact, a note-less activity — the scripture passage itself, together with cross-referenced passages, actually provide the preacher with the best possible notes. They contain all the key words and ideas, and provide the progression of thought to be followed (though not slavishly; I sometimes find the logical sequence works better by going through the passage in reverse). Above all, using the passage itself as my notes I am kept from wandering off at a tangent — a real danger when you are PWN — and ensures that we declare the Lord’s word rather than our own.

Finally, of course, in PWN the preacher should look his audience in the face, speaking directly to those he is addressing and making them look back at him. This becomes more difficult with large congregations but it is still possible to convince the hearers that they are being addressed personally and are hearing not just a man but also ‘what the Spirit is saying to the churches’. They must be made to feel that they are engaged in an earnest conversation, not witnessing a virtuoso performance!

The realisation that earth is perfectly suited (‘just right’) for the task of playing host to intelligent life has led scientists to call it ‘the Goldilocks planet’. Logically, of course, it should be called the porridge planet, since it was the porridge rather than Goldilocks that was just right, but that’s a detail. Exploration of the solar system has demonstrated the total uniqueness of earth among the otherwise barren solar planets.

Neither too hot nor too cold; provided with an abundance of water; enjoying a non-toxic, life-promoting atmosphere; protected from harmful radiation by its magnetic field; and with just the right gravitation to retain its atmosphere without squashing its inhabitants, Earth provides a perfect haven for life. An estate agent couldn’t write a more glowing specification.

 Fine-tuned universe

But that’s only the beginning. It isn’t just earth that seems specially designed to support life, but the universe as a whole. In 1999, Sir Martin Rees (then Astronomer Royal) published a book entitled Just six numbers — the deep forces that shape the universe¹, in which he explains that certain physical constants that crop up in the laws of nature have to be precisely what they are (within very close limits) to allow life to exist and flourish anywhere in the universe.

In other words, these numbers are ‘fine-tuned’ to allow life to exist. He writes; ‘This book describes six numbers that now seem especially significant. Two of them relate to the basic forces [in nature]; two fix the size and overall “texture” of our universe and determine whether it will continue for ever; and two more fix the properties of space itself. … if any one of them were to be ‘untuned’ [from their precise values] there would be no stars and no life’².

The late astronomer Sir Fred Hoyle FRS put it more bluntly: ‘A common sense interpretation of the facts suggests that a super intellect has monkeyed with physics, as well as with chemistry and biology, and that there are no blind forces worth speaking about in nature … The numbers one calculates from the facts seem to me so overwhelming as to put this conclusion almost beyond question’³.

Universes galore

In spite of Hoyle’s reputation as a scientist — and even though his opinion was so strongly expressed and he had no religious axe to grind — most leading scientists firmly reject the idea that the universe was designed.    Why? Because the only qualified designer would be God himself and when it comes to explaining the natural world, they won’t allow God a foot in the door. In Just six numbers, Martin Rees illustrates this bias as follows: ‘Is this [fine] tuning just a brute fact, a coincidence? Or is it the providence of a benign Creator? I take the view that it is neither. An infinity of other universes may well exist where the numbers are different’. Meet the multiverse — the name given to the huge (though not necessarily infinite) array of hypothesised universes which Rees says ‘may well exist’. Let’s call the multiverse ‘MV’ for short.

Professor David Deutsch is a physicist and author of a book entitled The fabric of reality. Commenting on his ideas, popular-science writer John Gribben declares, ‘Deutsch is completely convinced of the reality of the Multiverse … He accepts that there is, for example, a vast array of universes with different versions of himself in them, so that in some he is (not “might be” but really is) a professor in Cambridge instead of working in Oxford, while in others he is not a scientist at all’⁴. Gribben isn’t being funny; he is himself quite convinced that the MV is real. Admittedly, neither Deutsch nor Gribben can see, hear or communicate with their multiversal cousins. Indeed, these doppelgangers are utterly undetectable and unknowable. But that doesn’t seem to dampen the current enthusiasm for MVs. Their promotion by leading scientists like Sir Martin Rees and Stephen Hawking convinces many that the MVs must surely be there — perhaps only millimetres away from one another in multi-dimensional space, like so many snapshots stacked one upon another.

‘Get-out-of-jail-free’

But must we accept what these experts say? Actually, no! The MV concept is a bit like a ‘get-out-of-jail-free’ card in the game of Monopoly — an easy escape route from various difficulties and implications thrown up by modern physics and cosmology. Instead of struggling with the intransigent realities of the one universe we actually know to exist, it’s often much easier to wave them away by appealing to the MV.

It intrigues me that some of the MV’s greatest enthusiasts accuse theists of appealing to a ‘God of the gaps’ to account for things that science cannot explain — while at the same time claiming that the MV is a great way to explain otherwise inexplicable observations. In reality, the MV is the ultimate ‘speculation-of-the-gaps’, being almost by definition that which lies beyond the reach of science.

Is the MV scientific?

This last statement will be challenged, and there have been ingenious suggestions concerning ways to test the MV concept scientifically. It would take too long to explain and refute these ideas here, so let me offer one simple reason why the MV (even if it existed) could never be detected by scientific experiments.

One of the chief selling points of the MV is that the laws of nature must be different in the different universes that make it up. The MV loses most of its appeal (and indeed purpose) if all those other universes work (scientifically speaking) in the same way as our own. Yet the only science known to man is that which explores and describes the universe in which we actually live. Our own ‘local’ science cannot (again by definition) be used to investigate or even recognise alleged universes which operate on different principles and according to different laws of nature. Any such exo-universe remains firmly beyond the reach of science as we know it.

Why invoke the MV?

So why would anyone embrace such a bizarre idea as the MV in the first place? As I argue in my book Who made God?⁵ scientific explanations often lead us into conceptual quagmires. For example, Einstein’s general theory of relativity provides a magnificent explanation of gravitational phenomena, but only at the expense of introducing ‘warped’ space and time — things that most of us can’t get our heads around. Another example is quantum mechanics (QM). This theory is highly successful in describing atomic-scale events, but involves some very strange ideas — like a particle (such as an electron) being in two different places at the same time; that is, until you look at it and find it in one place or the other.

Some versions of the MV try to explain away such ‘contradictions’ of QM by saying that the particle does still exist in the other place, but in a different universe. This is the ‘many worlds’ hypothesis which removes the contradiction, but only at the expense of creating a new universe almost every time an atomic event takes place. That would mean that billions of new universes have been created since you started reading this sentence. Appealing to a MV to explain things we don’t understand about QM strikes me as an act of desperation, and that brings me back to the fine-tuning of the universe.

Take your choice

Why is the universe hospitable to life? There can be only three answers: (1) this is a brute fact and impossible to explain; (2) the universe was made this way by an intelligent Creator; and (3) there exist a vast number of different universes, one of which by chance has just the right properties to support intelligent life.

The first of these answers is no answer at all, since it simply says that no answer exists. The second is immortalised in the opening words of the Judaeo-Christian Bible, ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth’. The third answer is nothing more than an attempt to avoid the implications of answer (2).

For if we really are the products of a Creator, then we must have some relationship to him and some responsibility towards him. Indeed, the Bible goes further and says that, ‘He gives to all, life and breath and all things … so that [we] should seek the Lord … and find him, though he is not far from each one of us, for in him we live and move and have our being’ (Acts 17:25-28). Now that, to me, is an answer that makes sense!

References:

1. Martin Rees, Just six numbers, Basic Books, 2000

2. Just six numbers, p.4

3. Fred Hoyle, Engineering and Science, 11/81, pp. 8-12

4. John Gribbin, In search of the multiverse (Penguin Books, 2010) p.62

5. Edgar Andrews, Who made God? Searching for a theory of everything (EP Books, 2009)

Human beings are not only endowed with mind but also with morality. As we saw in Chapter 9, we have consciences that monitor and judge our thoughts and actions. In short, man appears to be the only creature that can distinguish between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. In this chapter I shall use the term ‘morality’ to cover all moral attitudes and actions, whether they are judged ‘good’, ‘bad’ or ‘neutral’. Just how we judge anything will, of course, depend entirely on they way it compares with some standard. For the theist that standard is the law of God. For the consistent atheist it can only be evolution — moral quality must be assessed in terms of evolutionary benefit or failure. But either way, morality really exists. Let me tell you a true story.

A family were standing in the large kitchen of their home talking to friends while their three-year-old daughter pushed her doll’s pram to and fro with some vigour. In doing so, she ran the pram into her father’s leg, inflicting (as I remember) a degree of pain. The child’s older sister immediately issued a stern rebuke: ‘Alison, say sorry to daddy!’ The younger child continued her perambulations without response but we could see her mind was working overtime. ‘Say sorry to daddy!’, came the repeated command. No reply. A further interval elapsed and the older sister’s voice rang out again: ‘Say sorry!’ There was a prolonged pause and then the worried frown on the toddler’s face was suddenly replaced by a seraphic smile: ‘Me can’t talk’, she said.

The adults dissolved in laughter but I have never forgotten the incident because its implications are really quite profound, illuminating the whole question of human morality. Clearly, Alison knew she had done ‘wrong’ in hurting her father. Her stubborn refusal to admit guilt is evidence enough of that. If she had no sense of right and wrong she would have experienced no moral dilemma.

We could, of course, explain the episode away. It wasn’t that the child had some innate moral awareness, we might say, but that her sense of guilt was a conditioned reflex. She recognised her sister’s tone of voice and knew from past experience that it meant trouble. No doubt children do have conditioned reflexes, but the appropriate reflex in my story would have been one of two things — either a simple denial of responsibility (‘it wasn’t me it was my doll’) or a quick apology (knowing that an apology defuses such situations). It was the devious guilt-reaction that revealed the toddler’s moral awareness — her silent inward struggle spoke volumes. She knew she was guilty and should apologise, but exercised considerable ingenuity to bypass conscience and evade moral responsibility. And you can’t evade what you don’t have.

Such behaviour is typically and uniquely human. We can only experience such problems if we have a genuine moral sense in the first place. If, at that moment, the family’s pet dog had walked into the kitchen leaving muddy paw-prints, it too might have been scolded. It might have cringed and put its tail between its legs, recognising disapproval in its master’s voice. But this would be a genuine conditioned reflex, a response to an external signal. There would be no corresponding inner awareness of wrong-doing — otherwise, next time, it would have wiped its feet on the doormat.

The moral argument for God

At the time of writing I had recently read The language of God[i] by geneticist Francis Collins. He abandoned his former atheism after reading C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity and being won over by the moral argument for the existence of God. This argument points out that morality is a form of law and, as we saw in Chapter 9, moral law necessitates a law-giver. Collins is one among many who have started from morality and arrived at God. In the present book, of course, we are following the opposite path, beginning with the hypothesis of God and deducing human morality as a necessary consequence.

In doing so we are following a route mapped out by St Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. Alister McGrath writes[ii]: ‘Aquinas’s arguments have Christian assumptions — for example, that there is a God, and that this God has created the world. The arguments then proceed to demonstrate that these beliefs are consistent with the way the world actually is. For example, Aquinas asks where human values such as truth, goodness and nobility come from. What causes them? … The origin of these ideas, Aquinas suggests, is God which is the ultimate cause’. If God exists as a moral being who has made man in his own image, then man must also be a moral being. Does this match our observations? Yes? Then the hypothesis is verified to that degree.

Whether we walk the path from morality to God or from God to morality, the path is there to be walked. However, the ‘God downwards’ approach has a distinct advantage. If we reason only from the nature of man to God we are in danger of fashioning a ‘God’ in the image of man. God is located as a moral entity but he may be that and nothing more — which offers a severely restricted perception of the divine nature. Even worse, because man’s practice of morality is so numbingly inconsistent, we are likely to conclude that God himself is morally inconsistent — as Richard Dawkins does in his infamous tirades against the Deity.

Man’s moral practice is bizarre by any measure. A tribe that applies strict laws against murder, adultery and theft may think nothing of making war on a neighbouring tribe — killing, raping and spoiling its enemies. It happens all the time — witness Stalin’s purges, the Chinese ‘cultural revolution’, the killing fields of Cambodia and seemingly endless tribal conflicts in Africa. Strange as it may seem, this is all predictable on the hypothesis of God, as we shall see in a moment. Antithetically, the atheist seeks to interpret mankind’s moral maze in evolutionary terms as the struggle for existence[iii] but runs into all kinds of contradiction in the process, as we shall also see.

But what is commonly overlooked in the slanging match that ensues, is that none of this affects the fact of human moral awareness. The debate between theists and atheists is often marked, on both sides, by a failure to distinguish between two quite different things, namely, the practice of morality and the existence of morality. The former is confusing to say the least, but the latter is unavoidable. There can be no more conclusive proof of this than the way that atheists, while attributing morality to amoral ‘selfish genes’, continually attempt to seize the moral high ground! For example, Richard Dawkins writes:

‘My own feeling is that a human society based simply on the gene’s law of universal ruthless selfishness would be a very nasty society in which to live. But unfortunately, however much we may deplore something, it does not stop it being true. … Be warned that if you wish, as I do, to build a society in which individuals cooperate generously and unselfishly towards a common good, you can expect little help from biological nature. Let us try to teach generosity and altruism, because we are born selfish’[iv].

What Dawkins doesn’t seem to realise is that if his atheism were true, there would be no moral high ground to occupy. I once visited Minnesota in the depths of winter and, somewhat jet-lagged, was being driven home from the airport by my host. We passed a large snow-covered field and I remarked that it looked remarkably flat. ‘That’s because it’s a lake’, he replied laconically. Likewise, atheism ought to be a featureless plain, boasting not so much as a moral molehill, let alone the mountain from which the new Olympians hurl down their moral thunderbolts upon theists, religion and lesser gods. If our world is the product of amoral forces, and if man is simply cosmic flotsam scattered on the shores of time, then morality (including Dawkins’ longed-for generosity and altruism) simply does not exist. Nothing can be ‘good’ and nothing ‘evil’. ‘Right’ and ‘wrong’ are concepts devoid of meaning, and anyone who passes moral judgement dwells not on moral high ground but in cloud cuckoo land. To their credit, older atheists like Nietzsche, Russell, Sartre and Camus recognised this and saw that it led logically to nihilism or, at best, to absurdity. The ‘new atheists’ (who want us to call them ‘brights’) seem oblivious to the obvious.

To summarise, therefore, morality (whether good or bad) exists, and does so uniquely among humans. Whatever moral judgements we make does not alter the fact that there is a moral domain which manifests itself in both individual and social conscience. As we have seen [v], this follows naturally and explicitly from the hypothesis of God, but cannot logically be ascribed to a wholly amoral process such as evolution or the supposed ‘selfishness’ of human genes.

Could a “God hypothesis” be the answer?, August 27, 2012

By Paul Rodney Pennington

Edgar H. Andrews is Emeritus Professor of Materials at the University of London and an international expert on the science of large molecules. Yet, as a highly successful and well known scientist and author, he believes in the God of the bible and is willing to put his faith through the ringers of modern day science in order to show that God does exist.

Who Made God is about looking through the lens of science and openly asking ourselves the difficult questions about life, its existence, purpose and origination without coming at it with a preconceived idea that God could not be a part of the equation. It’s about taking a hypothesis (as scientist do) and asking, “Could a God hypothesis explain the unknown?”

Dr. Andrews writing style is not only intellectual and challenging, but also easy to read and quite funny at times. He has a way of explaining the difficult topic addressed in a way that the everyday person can understand and follow. He starts out each chapter with brief explanations of what the main focus of the chapter will be along with some definitions of words people might not be familiar with. This I found quite helpful and overall a great read.

I highly recommend this book as a great challenge to open the door for a “God hypothesis” in the scientific world as well as yours.

An Absolutely Excellent Read, March 23, 2012

By Richard Lane

There have been two books in my lifetime where I’ve stopped reading, waited a day or two, then restarted the book with the purpose of reading several pages to a chapter, highlighting the sections, and making notes in the side margins. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was the first, Who Made God is the second. As I read, I am forming the outline of using this book as a class at church, to allow students to be able to confidently debate science and philosophy professors. I hope Dr. Andrews won’t mind.

The reviewer is author of The Cognitive Dissonance of Barkley Pontree and An Open Letter to Dr. Bart Ehrman in Response to His New Book “Forged”. barkleypontree.blogspot.com

Not Your Typical Apologetics Book, January 5, 2012

By M. Sutherland

This is the kind of Christian Apologetics book I enjoy reading.

Most apologetics books rehash the same answers and arguments. Occasionally one brings some new insight, or at least a new way of explaining the answers such that it sparks new thought. This is that book.

Fun to read, because the author clearly does not take himself too seriously (he utilizes the English cartoon character `Sooty’ in one of his explanations for heavens sake!) yet attacks these serious subjects head on with wit and charm. Yet he shows no mercy to the tired attacks on Christianity of the `new atheists’ vis-à-vis physics, miracles, natural law, an immoral God, etc.
One of those supposed argument-ending-money-maker lines of the `skeptic’ is always “You say God made everything? Well then tell me who made God?” Andrews spends 278 pages of text and 12 pages of supporting documentation explaining why this is an incoherent question, akin to `Have you stopped beating your wife?’ or `how long is string?’, and how the answer is evident via a serious analysis of the facts of nature, readily available.

The central thesis of the book is a presentation of the difference between a proof arrived by syllogism, and the preferred and beautiful approach of making a hypothesis and then examining the facts that support it (yes – he is indeed using the Scientific Method to confirm the existence of God!)

This book answers the question with no stone unturned. It’s a wonderful primer – a little bit logic, a little bit physics, a little bit philosophy. He makes sure that we don’t allow the `new atheists’ to get away with phrasing the issues in an incorrect manner, and that we answer the right questions. In doing so, he knocks down fantasy pseudo-sciences such as [a misuse of] imaginary time and cyclic universes. He also brilliantly shows why the worn-out complaint of the `God of the gaps’, an impotent God (of open theology), a Deistic God, and a Universalist God is NOT the God he is referring to.

The hypothesis Andrews seeks out to prove is status simply: “The God of the Bible exists”. He then proceeds to “seek to demonstrate that this hypothesis explains human observation and experience far better than atheism or even science can ever do…” He proves the hypothesis by examining observations in the areas of: Cosmic Origins, the existence and manner of Time, Natural and communal Law, Miracles, Information Theory, the Origin of Life, Abiogenesis, Evolution, and Morality.

Here is an example, regarding miracles, of his unique prose and thought, of which are found throughout… “C.S. Lewis has a clearer view of the miraculous, pointing out that if a non-material (or spiritual) realm exists at all, there must of necessity be an interface between this realm and the natural world – as a shoreline marks the interface between land and sea. And just as the sea may sometimes flood across that interface and invade the land, so the spiritual may from time to time invade the physical world.”

I did have only a few areas of fuss with Andrews – I think he discounts Intelligent Design too quickly, and I think he may have mischaracterized Behe’s position on Evolution – but those are easily overlooked in whole. Too many apologetics books are re-hashed information and arguments – this is not one of those books. This is the kind of book that makes me want to read more of Andrews, and actually write a review recommending him!

Dear Mr. Andrews

I haven’t finished re-reading your book. When I take notes the read takes much more time; but I’m getting there. I look forward to our continued discussion; this second time through your book has brought me some unexpected insight.

Dear Bill

Many thanks … I think we are now beginning to get to the heart of the matter, which is the nature of (biblical) faith. It will be a few days before I get around to responding to your long and interesting e-mail [see below]. I want to give it the time it deserves but I will be in touch soon.

[Here follows Bill's long e-mail with my replies interpolated in italics]

Dear Mr. Andrews

As I said in my last email, my goto for the Old Testament has always been Hebrew. Since the Jews have been arguing over every jot and tittle for a few thousand years or so, and have a working knowledge of the texts no other body of scholars seems to possess, I trust their translations. I’m a hard-line proponent of “mechanical” translations; no interpretation, no paraphrasing, no “lens” through which one colors the wording with a worldview or agenda. Of course I realize that we all have a perception lens; but I try to eliminate its effects as best I can.

The problem is, and has always been, no original writings for comparison. Now, the Jews are meticulous in the extreme when it comes to the Torah; so I accept their translation from the oldest Hebrew manuscripts as the best extant. Infallible, no; but as close as I think humans can get.

Hebrew is an interesting language, basic yet very sophisticated. I thought of it when you mentioned “logical positivism” in your introduction. Old Hebrew is a solid, or concrete language in that it expresses thoughts and ideas in relation to the five senses; but can express abstracts and contextual nuances using otherwise “solid” words. One must read and understand the words and phrases from the perspective of the folks who wrote it. Coming at the OT from even an Aramaic or Greek background will cause problems. Herein lies, for me, the crux of the situation. We are trying to understand millenniums-old ideas/words from a 2012 perspective. I don’t think that’s possible. The best we can get is close. I’ll talk more about my theory of “close enough” in another email.

You stated “No translation is the word of God and I would only strictly apply this description to the original autographs. Rather, the NKJV is my starting point … on account of its readability and faithfulness to the original-language (OL) mss (being a translation rather than a paraphrase or so-called ‘dynamic translation’). However, it is not infallible.” I couldn’t agree with you more. Without an original to work from, even the most meticulous and accurate work is still a translation of a translation.

Thanks Bill, that’s very clear and I think we are sufficiently in agreement about the text of Scripture to lay that discussion aside (at least for the moment) and move on to the deeper issues you correctly identify, specifically, the issue of faith. You say [the emphases are yours]:

“Now, enter faith. No matter how it is stated, no matter how finely-tuned one’s arguments are, at some point a person must simply admit they have faith that God preserved His original intentions and meanings. You stated “No translation is the word of God and I would only strictly apply this description to the original autographs. However, I do believe that these original documents are the word of God mediated through human writers (see e.g. 1 Peter 1:10-12; 2 Peter 1:21), that they have been faithfully preserved in the various early MSS and that we do have a close approximation to them in the basic Hebrew and Greek versions used by translators.” Again, you accept on the basis of faith, which is a horse of another color. The same argument could be made for any one of a number of “religions”; each of which, all reduce to faith. I have no problem with folks of faith, as long as they don’t try to present me with “facts” that are thinly disguised, faith-based, religious arguments. I accept what you say —’My authority is thus a “God-breathed” revelation concerning the person and work of Jesus Christ which has been mediated through human authors guided by the Holy Spirit and providentially preserved for us in the Bible through multiple agencies” — as an accurate statement of your belief. What it isn’t, is a convincing argument based on facts.

 There is nothing in the above that I really disagree with except the last sentence, but I think there are two distinct points being made. (1) An element of faith is involved in accepting that the original texts have been preserved more or less faithfully; and (2) Even if we were sure we had the original ‘as-written’ texts of Scripture it requires faith to receive them as the Word of God rather than simply the words of men.

In the case of (1) I say ‘an element’ of faith since (as you yourself imply) such matters can be studied by historical and historiographical research. Unfortunately different scholars come up with different answers, so that the interpretation of any factual research findings often depends on the interpreter’s preconceptions (‘faith’?).  

In the case of point (2) faith is, of course, fundamental. Do we or do we not accept the original Scriptures as constituting  God’s Word — that is, God communicating with us (and thus revealing Himself to us) through the instrumentality of human writers?  And if we do accept this proposition, is our faith rational or irrational? You continue:

I have spent many years of my life investigating paranormal, supernatural, and other-worldly phenomena. It absolutely amazes me that apparently intelligent and well-educated folks, in serious scientific fields of endeavor, who would no more accept a poorly-documented statement in their field of expertise, become as credulous as children when presented with faith/religious statements and beliefs. I just don’t get it. As much as I am loathe to quote anyone (argument from authority-logical fallacy), Clark Pinnock stated it best when he said ,”The heart cannot delight in what the mind rejects as false.” Until I see or hear reasoned, factual argument for the validity of scripture, any scripture, I must assume that the writings in questions are the musings, myths, hopes and dreams of Bronze-Age people. What they are not is the word of a God.

I’m not sure what you mean by a ‘factual’ argument in this context but I think it boils down to this; is the faith (that we agree is needed for a person to embrace the Judaeo-Christian Scriptures as the Word of God) rational or not? If it is rational then it passes Clark Pinnock’s well-stated test since it is, by definition, acceptable to the mind and creates no barrier to heart-acceptance. In what follows I’m going to argue that faith, as biblically defined, is fully rational.

Whether this is so, of course, turns on what we mean by ‘faith’. For example, if we adopt the definition offered by the (probably fictitious) little girl — “faith is believing what you know isn’t true” — then faith is both irrational and dishonest. Most atheists would offer a different definition — “faith is accepting as true something for which there is no evidence” — a fine example of this was Professor Lewis Wolpert in the debate I had with him on Premier Radio when he insisted that there is no evidence for God’s existence  http://www.premierradio.org.uk/listen/ondemand.aspx?mediaid={17EC0344-2ACF-4908-953D-5732AAF1A144}. [copy and paste]. This is somewhat tendentious of course since there is an implicit restriction on what constitutes admissible evidence. For example, it did not occur to Prof. Wolpert that my own belief in God was evidence that God exists! Not proof, of course, but relevant evidence worthy of examination. Finally, many people use the word ‘faith’ to mean by definition an irrational belief, which of course begs the question completely.  

One further point before I come to the biblical definition of faith. When we ask “is faith rational?” we must take into consideration not only objective evidence (from such things as the fine-tuning of the universe to the historical evidence of Christ’s bodily resurrection) but also subjective evidence (the evidence of a personal experience of God). Ultimately, biblical faith is of the latter kind since objective evidence, no matter how strong, can always be explained away and rejected. (e.g. fine-tuning can be attributed to the existence of a multiverse in which some constituent universe will fortuitously possess all the right properties; the resurrection of Christ could be ‘explained’ in terms of mass hysteria among the ‘eye-witnesses’; and so on). When asked how he knew that God exists, Billy Graham apparently replied, ‘I was speaking to Him only this morning’. I would suggest that in the final analysis ALL proof is subjective — we can only ever prove things to ourselves not to others. We can offer them evidence but whether they accept that evidence is, in turn, a subjective choice on their part.

 So then, what is faith? According to the Bible faith is spiritual sight, a faculty that we do not possess by nature. ‘The natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God for they are foolishness to him. Neither can he know them because they are spiritually discerned [it takes spiritual sight to see them]” (1 Cor. 2:14). In fact the best definition of faith in the NT doesn’t even mention ‘faith’ but states, “we look not at the things which are seen but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal but the things that are not seen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:18). How can Paul ‘look’ at things that are ‘not seen’ by human eyes or mental discernment? Because he possessed spiritual sight, a faculty imparted by God to the individual and not naturally possessed by man. (There are other verses that confirm this understanding of the nature of faith, e.g. Moses “endured as seeing Him who is invisible” (Heb. 11:27) and “By grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it [i.e. salvation, including faith] is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8)). According to John 3:3-6 the gift of spiritual sight (faith) is imparted to a person directly by the Spirit of God (not by some ritual of the church) in the process of spiritual regeneration.

 If this is the case, then to oppose faith to reason is a categorical error. A blind person cannot see the stars in the sky nor can any other of his senses tell him they are there. Just as our physical eyes tell sighted persons that the stars really are there, so spiritual sight tells the one who possesses it that spiritual realities exist. It is only once we have seen the stars that we can bring our minds to bear upon their significance. We can speculate on their origin, scientifically measure and interpret their red-shifts, devise cosmological theories and so on. But none of these rational considerations can begin until sight has revealed their existence and properties. As long as we are blind to them we cannot begin to reason about them. Faith is thus pre-rational; it cannot be anti-rational. Just as we need sense-data to provide us with information about which we can then reason, so faith (as the Bible defines it) provides us with information about the unseen things of God — upon which we can then bring our powers of reason to bear. Faith is thus pre-rational and cannot be irrational. Indeed, it is only once we have input from our senses that we can think about anything. In biblical thinking, therefore, faith is a pre-requisite of rationality concerning the things of God.

I said a prayer last night and asked God, if He is there and answers prayers, to open my mind and help me understand. I rarely pray, and when I do it’s a brief ceremony. Even though I have a serious problem with Islam, I do think their praying posture to God is appropriate: on one’s face. It reminds me of the gulf between ourselves and a being who can do a universe on short notice.

The Hawaiian’s called heavenly power and grace “mana”, and believed it flowed through the Alii Nui (the one through whom the Mana flows). The Alii Nui always married her brother in order to produce the next Alii Nui. When the Alii Nui died, it was customary for her husband(her brother) to pick Maile leaves, form them into a chain, crawl into her presence, and break the spines on the leaves one-by-one. Maile has a heavenly scent when prepared in this manner. There was a saying that it was a good thing for a man to crawl, face to the earth, and recognize a power greater than his own. I agree.

I heartily agree that it is good to recognize a power greater than our own. But the gospel of Jesus Christ invites us to know that power as a Person, and that surely is far better!