Utilitarianism

The modern struggle of moralities has nearly always been couched in terms of a conflict between relativist and absolutist moralities - the former, in its most modern incarnation, as "multiculturalism," and the latter as traditional (typically religious) institutions of morality. The former recognizes no absolute truth in a moral sense; the latter insists upon the existence of an absolute. This debate is not new, by any means, but has been recast in new terms by the emergence of the modern multicultural movement, with its emphasis on cultural moralities, as well as the traditionally relativist emphasis on personal definitions of truth. Accompanying the reemergence of the relativist philosophies has been a growth in utilitarianism (typically combined with secular humanism) unparalleled since the early parts of the twentieth century. This latter moral framework - utilitarianism - is often overlooked in the ongoing debate about truth at this intersection of history. In many ways, this makes sense, for the simple yet obvious reason that utilitarianism is not, in and of itself, a fundamental philosophy. It makes no claim about the nature of reality, only what we ought to do when that argument is settled.

Utilitarianism argues, at least on its simplest level, that we ought to do whatever action causes the greatest good down the line - even if that action here in the moment would ordinarily be considered evil by any system of measurement. As such, it is a philosophical construct layered onto the top of an absolute or a relative system of morality. The difficulty arises in that, while "no more" than a construct on top of either absolutist or relativist systems, utilitarianism has effects far beyond those of most other additions to such systems, in that it actually realigns the morality of either system and thus creates its own system of morality. We will begin with a critical examination of utilitarianism in the context of an absolute moral framework, then move on and examine its role in a relative moral framework.

When operating in an absolutist framework, utilitarianism is a construct which purports to redefine, or perhaps simply realign, the hierarchy of good and evil actions. Because the framework itself is absolute, utilitarianism functions essentially as a subjective modifier to the rankings of good and evil actions. By introducing an alternate hierarchical structure to the absolute construct, utilitarianism actually introduces a relativist bias. A Biblical moral structure has clearly delineated lines of good and evil, allowing for context dependent variations and taking into account a plethora of situations whose varied nature requires different rewards and/or punishments. And this is in the Old Testament alone, before the establishment of a covenant of grace. The Levitical law is extremely clear on what is good, what is evil, and what the punishments and atonements necessitated by evil are. Jesus' coming did not in the least change this; quite the contrary: by providing an example of the law fulfilled, He demonstrated perfect good and raised the bar for all who would follow Him. What utilitarianism does is take this clearly delineated set of guidelines for what is right and what is wrong, and postulate that the definitions of right and wrong need to be realigned. Rather than each action being right or wrong in a given context, regardless of the ultimate outcome, the intent of the person committing the deed and the ultimate consequences of the action take become the ultimate. Rape, murder, etc. may all be acceptable so long as the end goal is a net gain for society - and so long as that goal is actually achieved by the undertaking of those actions. Thus, the entire idea of an absolutist framework is undermined by the notion that, rather than having some absolute value of good and evil, any action's value is determined only by its net result. The outcome of this alteration to any absolute moral structure - Biblical or otherwise - is the net abolition of the absolutes and a shift to an essentially relativist structure, wherein deeds are good and bad only dependent on their context and the beliefs of the person committing them. The dichotomy between this personal relativism and the concept of an inherent, abstracted, and fundamental moral reality ultimately renders any attempt to reconcile absolutism with utilitarianism a failure at a purely logical level. The two are simply not compatible.

It is also this lattermost point which distinguishes the (inherently unworkable) addition of utilitarianism to absolutism from the thoroughly wieldy combination of utilitarianism with relativistic morality - its natural cousin (if not twin brother!) in moral philosophy. Relativism argues from the outset that any action may be judged moral or immoral only in the context of the reigning worldview or paradigm of the culture in which the actions are taking (in its least extreme form as so-called multiculturalism); or more extremely (but more essentially in line with the logical necessities of the framework), that an action's morality can be judged only by the person actually committing the act. That is, what is right for you may be wrong for me, but neither of us are actually correct about the particular deed being right or wrong. The difficulties with moral relativism are sufficient to warrant several posts of great length, but in short, the system breaks down any time it encounters a real-world situation. Typically, relativists modify their ideologies with certain absolutes, and without apparent cause; e.g. arguing that the only absolute is that what one does may not hurt another person or cause them harm. Yet this first encounters the difficulty of establishing why that is an absolute, and no other principle may be taken as such. There is no possible answer, because the existence of even one absolute must be explained, and further it allows for the possibility of other absolutes; and the existence of even a single absolute negates the fundamental premise of relativism. (Note, too, that the most basic statement of relativism, that is, "All moral views are equally true; no one has more validity than any other," is in and of itself a statement of moral truth claiming to have greater validity than any other. The system is fundamentally flawed.)

With all this for context, it should be reasonably clear how easily a utilitarian framework meshes with a relativist ideology. Given that relativism already holds that any action is subject to the judgment only of the person committing the deed, utilitarianism's requirement that the deed be committed for the "greater good" is really no constraint at all. Indeed, with no notable exceptions, even the most barbaric tyrants and murderers consider themselves fundamentally good. Hitler and Stalin certainly felt they were bettering society in some way by means of the purges they undertook. Moreover, they were sociopaths at a level such that their killing of millions had no discernible impact on them. From a conjunction of relativism and utilitarianism, it is hard to argue that either of them, particularly the ideologically motivated Hitler, was wrong in any sense to undertake the atrocities he committed. If all deeds are to be judged only by the intent of the one doing them, and if the morality of an action is to be understood as the combination of whether a net increase in good was actually accomplished, then by definition any action undertaken by any person will be good. The very concept of evil is effectively eliminated. Let us take again the example of Hitler: had he achieved his goal of eradicating all Jews and conquering the world for the glory of Germany and the spread of his perfect race, a person arguing honestly from a utilitarianist-modification of relativism would have to admit that he had achieved a good thing. Why? Because he believed wholeheartedly that the best outcome possible was the dominance of Aryans and the ultimate eradication of the Jews. For him, that was good. Therefore, if we hold utilitarian relativism as our view, we must admit that as a good goal.

Here is where things become even more disturbing: no matter how despicable the act may seem to be in and of itself, it may be carried through if necessary, according to utilitarianists. The even more troubling point is this: they would argue that seemingly wrong actions not only are allowable, but that if circumstance dictates, they become necessary. What does that circumstance look like? For those who carry utilitarianism to its logical conclusion (cf. Peter Singer, of Princeton University's Bioethics Department), whatever results in a net increase in happiness in the world is not only acceptable, not only admirable, but required. Combine this with relativism, and you have a world in which Hitler's deeds are not only justifiably allowable, they are fundamentally necessary - he had to murder millions to be in good conscience.

The notion is, of course, thoroughly revolting. Utilitarianism leads, quite to the contrary of the claims of those who advocate it as the best and most functional system of morality, to greater acceptance of evil, regardless of the underlying premise's relativism or absolutism. In essence, it subjectivizes the concept of good and evil, and in so doing effectively eliminates the possibility of evil actually existing. That it does we can clearly observe in the world around us, and so we are left with a choice. We may reject the notion of evil (again, turning to relativism) and instead accept that all deeds are simply people doing what they think will best increase their own happiness (and thus increase the net happiness of the world a bit) or benefit the world - no matter how horrid the deed is: the rapist must be allowed his enjoyment. Alternatively, we may reject utilitarianism and retain our concept of good and evil. The former choice is appealing to many nihilist philosophers, but so long as we maintain that existences is something more than the ultimately meaningless void that nihilism calls it, we must, if in the grip of reason, deny it.

Ultimately, we must reject utilitarianism not only on these philosophical grounds, though those are certainly sufficient, but also because of its inherent rejection of both God's concept of justice and His sovereignty. In ignoring the latter, it assumes that whenever the ultimate good prevails, the actions taken along the way were justified so long as they helped achieve that in some way. Christian doctrine, however, points out that God can take that which man meant for evil and work it for good nevertheless. And like nearly every other secular philosophy, utilitarianism is intentionally blind to God's justice, for the promise of ultimate accountability is anathema to the person who has rejected God in favor of their own personal autonomy. And in the end, utilitarianism - like relativism - is just man once again grasping at the straw of absolute personal autonomy. As always, he is doomed to failure.

Sovereignty and Will: A Theological Paradox?

Theologians have spent the last two millennia arguing about God's sovereignty and man's will, be it in the context of salvation, of everyday life, or in the shaping of history. Which is it- they so frequently have asked, -man's will, or God's, that ultimately decides our fate? It is easy to understand the question, and easier still to understand the difficulty of it. Scripture and our every day existence both strongly confirm the existence of man's will, and indeed show the effect of it writ large across the pages of history, from the fall to the massacres of the 20th century. Man's will is nothing if not dominant in the records of the world: one cannot find any point in history where the decisions of man to act either with or against God literally shape the fate of entire nations and peoples - and often the entire world. At the same time, though, we can likewise see from both Scripture and history the degree to which divine intervention has altered the course on which man has been set, be it in various happenings to the nation of Israel, or more modern events like the Protestant Reformation - and most clearly, in the person of Jesus Christ himself. Moreover, while Scripture clearly presents a picture of a world where the influence of man's will shapes everything, it also explicitly confirms the ultimate sovereignty and Lordship of God. This has ultimately left us asking the questions mentioned above, and wondering how the two concepts may be reconciled. Particularly troubling to the human mind (and particularly divisive in the church, unfortunately) have been discussions (or, more frequently, arguments) over the role of man's will and God's will in the question of salvation. There has been conflict in the church about the doctrine of predestination since at least the time of Augustine, well over 1500 years ago. The two points seemed to be at odds with one another; indeed, this seems to be one of the stickiest outright contradictions in Scripture that the theologian is left to deal with. It has caused difficulty for both skeptics and dedicated believers, because the Bible claims to be inerrant and without any such points of conflict. That a contradiction exists seems to reinforce the very claims of the agnostic that the Bible is unreliable and the creation of man. And what shall be our answer to this question?

There are, and always have been, many valid points on both sides of the discussion, both from everyday observation and from directly referencing the Word of God. I do not intend to resolve the question - I do not believe myself capable of doing so; nor do I consider myself more intelligent than two millennia's theologians. I do believe, however, that examination both of our own existence and of the Bible can tell us a great deal about this question, and perhaps bring a bit of insight to what I consider to be one of the many mysteries of God's ways.

The first point which we must consider is our baisc observation of the world around us. We can clearly see the effects of man's will. Quite frequently, people's objections to God can be summed up in the question, "Why is there evil?" The Christian's answer of course is simple: because we chose it, in the will that God gave us. No other answer even begins to make sense of the world; neither does any answer leave us understanding the path to salvation that God has made available to us. Without an acknowledgement that we and we alone are responsible for the horrid state in which we find the world, little if anything makes sense - for we must otherwise posit either no God, which is indefensible for reasons I will address at some other point, or we must posit a God who intentionally created evil, which is also dissatisfying (for it implies an evil creator). Thus, we acknowledge that the world is the way it is because God has allowed us will. We also acknowledge that people are capable, even without the regenerative acts of God, of performing incredible (positive!) acts of will, to change both themselves and their situations. These are, of course, insufficient for salvation, for as Scripture tells us, "All our righteousness is as filthy rags before Him," yet they point to a capacity in humanity for righteous action nevertheless. It is simply that righteous action is utterly insufficient for salvation, because all our righteous actions are incapable of atoning for a single sin - and "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."

We furthermore observe the presence of man's will in that even after the process of supernatural, spiritual renewal, man is still capable of disobeying God. Despite the fact that we are being miraculously regenerated, all Christians are still tempted by (and still fall to, at times) temptations to sin. If we did not, we would be perfected already, rather than in a process of being perfected. We observe that Paul, perhaps the "greatest" Christian that ever lived in some regards, comments on his own inability to do the things he desires and his continuing to do the things he does not desire (see Romans 7). We also see him acknowledging before a church that he founded that he is not yet perfected and has not yet attained, but rather presses on for the upward calling of God in Christ Jesus (see Philippians 3:12-14). Thus, man's active will - and, unfortunately, his corruption - continue to impact our lives even after hearing God's call and being renewed by the Holy Spirit. However, we should also keep in mind that men and women are capable, both before and after that renewal, of breaking many habits and patterns of behavior (especially after, with the strengthening given by the Holy Spirit). This, too, is clear evidence of man's will. Some choose to progress in their Christian walks; others choose to stagnate (or even regress), despite God's continual calling upward (see Romans 5-7, 10; Hebrews 6, 10, 11 for Scriptural discussions of the role of man's will).

Yet in the face of all the evidence of the reality and immediacy of the effects of man's will, we must also take into accoun that which we observe both in reality and in Scripture of God's sovereignty over everything taking place in the world. Scripture provides a clear account of the unfolding of God's plan, unhindered by the will and agency of man. Likewise, in our daily experience we can see the same if we are attentive - seeing how this event leads to that, how one part of our lives leads us into another so seamlessly yet so perfectly taking us exactly where we are called to be. As we walk out our lives as Christians, the ways in which God acts become increasingly clear to us and we come to see more and more that the circumstances in which we walk are far less important than what God has said about them - for the latter always proves true, no matter what appearances may be.

Even more dramatic is the historical evidence of God's unfolding plan, as revealed to us both through simple historical analysis and through examination of the Scriptures. The former reveals without a doubt that history turns upon - indeed, is predicated on - the life and death of Christ, and of the empty tomb from which we as Christians believe He was raised. The keeping of the Jewish people, both historically and in modernity, despite and in the face of horrendous odds against them, likewise testifies to God's intervention. Likewise, the archeological record bears witness to Biblical accounts of divine intervention in the history of Israel. Despite the varied schemes of man, the picture presented by Scripture is that of a sovereign God who indeed "holds the paths of kings in His hands" (see Proverbs). No matter the circumstance, be it rebellion on the part of Israel or aggression on the part of its neighbors, we see that God's will - and indeed even the timing of the execution of His will - is never thwarted. Ultimately, His plan triumphs over all else. Nowhere is this made more clear than in the events that unfold in the path leading to Jesus Christ's crucifixion. All manner of distraction came, from satanic temptation to the dissension of His own followers to the plotting of the Pharisees. In what is an almost ironic twist, the people most actively working to thwart Jesus (and thus God Himself) were those who maneuvered Him into precisely the position necessary for God's plan of atonoment to be fulfilled. God's sovereignty is unquestionably established by these historical facts alone; yet beyond them the Spirit saw fit to give us undeniable and clear teaching throughout Scripture regarding the rule and headship of God over all creation, including man. It is not for no reason that both Paul and Peter clearly indicate that God not only knows but has actually predestined some for salvation and some not (see Romans 8 and 9, for example). God is personally, intimately sovereign, as well as in control of the overarching details of our lives; we see this most clearly revealed in certain Old Testament accounts (cf. the lives of David and Nebuchadnezzar). God's sovereignty is in no way limited by the will or desires of man; He is not hindered by our choices, no matter how contrary to His will they may be. It is essential to understand this in any discussion of the interplay of God's sovereignty and man's will, because failing to do so all too often results in a diminishing (in our eyes, that is) of God's greatness - replacing His lordship withour own.

How these two points - God's sovereignty and man's active and free will - are to be reconciled, then, is, and in many ways will probably always remain, something of a mystery until God has made known to us the many mysteries of His ways. There are, however, some helpful realizations to which we can come from combining these observations with more study of Scripture. First, we observe that clearly God is both ultimately and intimately sovereign in our lives. Yet we also observe that we clearly still have choice. Even as redeemed Christians, we find that it is in choosing to surrender our will (and we know experientially that it is indeed a choice) that God's plan actively works out in our lives. We can choose to thwart His plan for us. How then, can both statements be true: that we can thwart God's plan, and that His plan is ultimately never thwarted?

First, we must acknowledge that God's perspective of reality is not the same as ours. For a slightly more indepth discussion, refer to my first post on this blog, in which I discuss God's extra-temporal (indeed, super-temporal) nature. We can see from this perspective that God's interpretation of predestination may not be the same as ours. Destination might indeed be a better word, though I have no inclination to argue with Peter and Paul on the matter. God's sovereign will is constantly being executed throughout the entire span of the time dimension of space-time. This does not eliminate choice, or indeed even "chance" events from occurring - for more discussion of this point, see my discussion of chance and God's sovereignty a month and a half ago. God is not limited by the laws of the universe He created; nor is He limited by giving us choice.

Beyond this point, however, a somewhat deeper understanding awaits us. The hints of an answer that we can understand are far richer and more beautiful than simply saying, "That's just how it is," and assuming that God somehow circumvents human will in spite of giving it to us. No, the truer answer is that this dichotomy simply is not. Our human minds tend to group and analyze in patterns of true and false, positive and negative, either/or. The problem for us arises when we encounter a circumstance that does not so neatly fit into these categories. Thanks to our ability (God-given, remember!) to apply logic and reason to reality, we have a tendency to assume that all situations can be described by - and are thus constrained by - these intellectual tools that He has given us. Both our own experience and Scripture deny this, though, indicating instead that our intellects are limited, and that our capacity for understanding is likewise limited. Moreover, our intellect and reason cannot provide us suitable answers even in all areas of what we consider the "natural" world; it is no infrequent occurrence for men and women to behave in ways that are utterly incapable of being described by principles of logic and reason. How, then, should we expect that God could be so described? God cannot be contained by principles of logic. Many people may at this time probably begin to object to my argument, taking the point of view - correctly - that God is a God of order, of reason, and of structure, and that any view of Him which supposes that He defies logic must be incorrect. They would be correct to do so. God does not defy logic. He simply cannot be contained by it.

In this case, what we perceive to be paradoxically irreconcilable statements regarding man's will and God's lordship must be reevaluated from a different cognitive framework from that in which we are accustomed to functioning - a framework in which we acknowledge that God's ways are supra-logical. That is to say that while God never defies logic, some points are beyond logic's ability to describe. As noted previously, this situation arises even in everyday circumstances; it should then be no surprise that it arises when dealing with God. That God is truly Lord of reality and that we as men and women still have will to choose for ourselves - both in the act of salvation and in our responses to God thereafter - are only irreconcilable insofar as one requires that they meet the standards of human logic. Applying human logic requires that one or the other be true.

Applying a framework that acknowledges that supra-logical nature of the system demonstrates that this need not be the case. The statements are not contradictory, but complementary. Plainly and simply, both can be true. In fact, I will be so bold as to say that both must be true for us to have any coherent framework in which to understand the picture presented by Scripture. To be sure, this leaves us in another intellectual tangle. Yet it is a tangle that our inability to resolve is thanks to our own limitations, rather than because of a contradiction in Scripture. That the points are supra-logical rather than contra-logical establishes a view in which the weakness is not with the authority of Scripture but rather with ourselves.

We must, from this perspective, be content to acknowledge that we are predestined and we have a free choice in salvation; that our steps are ordered and we walk the path we will to walk.

This is not a paradox.

It is a paradigm that we in our weakness cannot comprehend.

Quantum Indeterminacy and Coincidence

I'm tackling a paradox today, namely chance and coincidence. Christians tend to believe - in my view, correctly - that there is no such thing as coincidence, that God has a plan and that the universe is in submission to His will. However, we know from physics - specifically, from quantum mechanics - that there is a certain amount of unavoidable chance in the universe. Well, sort of. It's not exactly chance so much as probability. What it comes down to, though, is this: how an event will happen at a subatomic level is not predetermined; the result of the interaction is not and cannot be known until after it has occurred. The reasons are complex, and the mathematics far too difficult to explain in brief, particularly here. It is, however, true.

This then practically begs us to ask the question: if there is a certain unescapable level of interaction in the universe that is fundamentally probabilistic - that is not predetermined by the initial states and values of the system - then how can Christians possibly hold to the argument that there is no such thing as coincidence? How can we maintain the belief that things do not occur by mere chance, but rather occur with a purpose, when clearly there is an element of "chance" in everything? It may seem a silly question to ask in some sense, given that quantum mechanics technically only applies to the microscopic - no one expects us to do the kinds of odd things that quantum particles do, like tunneling our way through walls or the like. Yet, when one stops to realize that every single thing that occurs in the physical world is a result of the sum of quantum behavior, the question snaps into focus. (There are, of course, some other issues here, which I'll try to address in the future, namely how quantum mechanics interacts with free will; and also if things are merely the sum of their parts, quantum or otherwise, or if indeed systems can achieve what we might call a sort of synergy and become more than the sum of their parts.)

The question is not a vain one, nor is it easy to answer. I think, though, that we can come to some sort of conclusion about how it might at least be possible without violating laws of physics for God to still have a certain degree of determinism in what is fundamentally a nondeterministic universe, and one in which our own free will plays a part alongside quantum indeterminacy. I return to the point I established two weeks ago to begin, then move forward into a more physical explanation.

Initially we must recall that God is not constrained by the laws of this universe. He doesn't have to play by the rules; He made them and He can violate them any time He so chooses. Moreover, His capabilities even operating within the bounds of physics are significantly greater than our own, thanks to His super-dimensional nature. The first point is of course sufficient, but it may not be complete. It in essence assumes that everything is continuously a miracle, that God intervenes in every moment of every day, sidestepping the laws of physics, so as to ensure things go according to plan. This is posssible. Yet, to me at least, it doesn't seem the most elegant solution. I'll be the first to admit that whether it makes sense to me is not necessarily a valid basis for evaluating whether or not God operates in a particular way. However, He seems to actively intervene miraculously in the physical world much less frequently than all that - indeed, only when He is making a very large statement. Also, it does not seem to hold up logically that a creation would be considered "good" if it required His constant intervention to go according to His plan.

There are several points we must now consider, some theological, some physical. In the first category, we must look at how God has chosen to interact with His people - us - over the course of history, and take that into account: how does His will combine with our ability to choose for ourselves, and how does that translate in terms of the efficacy of His plan - which, according to Scripture, is never thwarted. From a theological standpoint, we allow that God is great enough that He can actually take our changes in His plan in stride and still accomplish His purpose, in our lives and in the world as a whole. He's simply that big. We can never afford to forget how truly great, God is. We know that God had a plan for Jesus to come and redeem and that His plan was fulfilled in its perfect timing - He tells us so. We also know, though, that repeatedly in the Old Testament, His people (at that point, only the Israelites) fell short of His plan and purpose often. However, each of those incidents He worked into His overall plan, and the final outcome was undisturbed. Thus, we can see that from the standpoint of God's interactions with humanity and its choices, He is more than able to deal with our outright disobedience to His plan and still make events unfold as He desires.

This opens up the door for an addition to the already present possibilities for how God deals with quantum mechanics. He can do with quantum "chance" phenomena the same way He deals with humans - that is, take the fluctuations into account, and have a determined outcome even though the means of getting there are not necessarily determined. Though a quantum event may go any number of ways, God is sovereign enough to incorporate those changes into His own greater plan for events. To a certain extent, this explanation works. However, I don't find it to be the most elegant or satisfying of explanations.

Far more powerful, I feel, is the realization that quantum mechanics works the way it does in certain things because of our presence in the universe. It is well known that the act of observing a system changes its quantum state. It also somehow causes it to "choose" which state it will be in - prior to the act of observing the system, it seems to actually exist as a probability function in some sense. (An electron, for example, does not seem to occupy a precise position before we measure its position... by measuring its position we find out where it is, but we also affect where it is.) It is also well-known and well-described mathematically that one can know either the velocity of a particle or its position precisely - never both. In fact, the precision to which one can know the position or velocity of a particle is directly related to how precisely one has measured the other value. The theoretical reasons behind all of this are again complex, and are also not necessarily well-defined or explained at this point. The first point poses some difficulty for understanding, the second far more so. It is, however, almost infinitely supported by the weight of experimental evidence. The final point is tied in with the first and second, and poses its own difficulties.

For our purposes, the primary difficulty posed by these quandaries is this: our universe is not deterministic because of our limited ability to known the positions and velocities of particles; in theory at least, a system that knew all those values at the same time and had sufficient computing power could determine every event that would occur in the history of the rest of the universe. No such system exists, or even can exist, for the simple reason that computing all of those variables would require more computing power than is possible in the universe. Moreover, the act of measuring all those quantum systems would cause them to "choose" what state to be in. The future know by the computer would be only one of many possible; in this case it would be the future, but only because of the computer's existence.

You may here be starting to see how this can play out... If, instead of a computer existing in our own universe - an impossible computer, remember - we are dealing instead with an infinite God, the difficulty of computation no longer arises. The constraints of computing vanish, and knowledge of the final fates of a non-quantum (non-probabilistic) universe could easily be known by a God with infinite knowledge and intelligence and understanding.

Now, what about a quantum universe? The difficulty of computation is little more difficult here than in a non-quantum universe, especially for a God of the variety we are discussing. The difference required by the increase in difficulty of calculation would in fact be insignificant compared to the computational power necessary for a computer to determine a non-quantum universe. The more significant question arises elsewhere: does quantum mechanics look the same from God's end as it does from ours? Obviously, we can't really know. We do know a few things, though: God can know all the state variables of a system without affecting it, because that's part of who He is. That may contribute part of the answer. Yet, if we take into account that probabilistic outcomes still occur, this takes on a certain different look. Perhaps (and this is now completely speculatory, though I think it may be somewhat valuable) God's knowing of a particular quantum system is what causes it to go the way it does... not breaking the rules of probability overall in the universe, but simply acting as God desires that it ought to in that particular case. If He is who He says that He is, then the states throughout the universe ought to be such in any case that most of the things we consider miraculous could in fact be achieved simply by a convergence of ordinarily highly improbable (especially in conjunction) quantum events, all summing up to make occur the physical end of things. The spiritual end of miracles (humans coming back to life, for example, and so on) of course maintains its separation from the real world. Yet miracles are not truly impossible - only improbable. What if, instead of breaking the laws of physics, God simply used them? What if, being God, He set up the systems such that, without violating any rules of physics, probabilities simply aligned in ways necessary for miracles? Nothing prevents it, and indeed, it seems at least a strong possibility. Only God Himself knows. On the question of coincidence, it is again ruled out by this way of looking at things, though free will is not (again, that is a topic for another post). God simply chooses which quantum states will sum up and occur, along with all the macrostates that we interact with every day, so that no such thing as a "chance meeting" ever occurs. Every one has a purpose, a plan. The end result, He often leaves up to us, which leads us to the final point.

Many people feel that quantum mechanics is somehow in defiance of God's sovereignty. They are mistaken. It is subject to His authority just as much as everything else. The fact that it is not so easily understood how is of little consequence: God is bigger than man's ability to understand. And, interestingly, quantum mechanics may have a lot to do with God's character. He likes adventure. He likes uncertainty. If He didn't, He woulnd't have given us choice and will; He wouldn't have given us the opportunity to rebel. He likes seeing how things will turn out - and yes, being God, He knows, but "ahead of time" is the wrong phrase to use; He simply knows, but that doesn't stop its being interesting - and quantum mechanics may be as much a part of that as our free will. The two may, in fact, be all but one and the same in some senses. That's for next time.

The first thing said...

The first thing said was said in more than silence. It wasn't just silent when it was spoken. It was more than just the absence of noise. It was the absence of even the possibility of noise. It was the absence of the possibility of anything.

And then one Word was spoken, and more than possibility came to be. Everything we know - the possibility of everything we know, and the reality of it as well - sprang into existence in the greatest flash of energy and light that has ever been. It had never happened before. It has never happened since. It defies all understanding, that springing into existence from nothingness. Not just empty space getting filled. Space itself coming into being. Not just events in time starting. Time itself beginning.

It is, in fact, impossible to comprehend. Not difficult. Impossible. We have such limited minds. When we think of anything, we think of it in terms of time and space, of starting and ending, of location and velocity. We cannot not think that way. Our minds process time linearly. And time itself does have an arrow, a direction, a place where it began. We can't get our mind around that, either - the realization that at some point time itself began. Not just an event within time, but time itself. Just as space itself once did not exist. We cannot actually come to know what that really means. Our minds are tied to our bodies, and to our physical reality. It has four dimensions. Three spatial. One temporal. And we don't even understand those. Time has a direction, but we don't know if it actually flows as we perceive it to. Space has dimensionality, but even the tools we use to measure it are part of it. We understand how to compensate for both of those... but do we understand them in and of themselves? Not hardly. Do time and space come in chunks? Or are they continuous? For that matter, what does it even mean for time and space to be quantized chunks? We understand (however imperfectly) the idea that objects within timespace can come in quanta, these tiny chunks. But the idea that timespace itself might be organized that way is completely incomprehensible. We can describe it mathematically, but we cannot get our minds around the concept.

How could we understand the idea of before time, after time, outside of space, when we can't even understand time and space? The answer is obvious. We can't. Thus, the idea of actually understanding the origin of time and space is foolish. Trying to actually understand the Word is likewise folly. How could we possibly hope to understand the origin of that which we cannot comprehend? God is beyond human comprehension. He reveals Himself to us. But He is not comprehensible. Anyone who says He is capable of being understood is ignorant, a fool, or both.

And here's a question for you:

Would He really even be God if He was capable of being understood?