Of Cabbages and Kings

This post is a response to another post, which presents an argument for why there can be at most one god. I recommend reading it first: Unstoppable Objects, Immovable Walls, and Omnipotence by JC.

I agree that having two truly omnipotent gods is logically impossible, and of course the Christian view is that God has such power that there is no room for another god: “I am God, and there is no other.” (Isaiah 45:22) But what about weaker gods, such as the Greek pantheon, or the Mormon view (if I understand it correctly) where each god has his own universe? And what exactly does it mean to be omnipotent?

The regional gods that nations previously worshiped are easy to dismiss, because even if they existed and one was mad at you, you could just move somewhere else to escape him—hardly a fearsome god. And any god with demonstrably finite power warrants only limited respect, because in theory you could defy such a god and still escape. (Whether such beings deserve to be called gods is simply a matter of terminology.) I’m not inclined to worry about gods like these, not only because I don’t believe they exist, but even if they did, maybe I could ignore them and still evade their finite reach.

Harder to discount is the concept of one god per universe. In such a system, we would see the effects of a god who is apparently omnipotent but is in fact limited to perhaps a four-dimensional subspace of a wider multiverse. The only non-biblical argument against this that comes to mind is the odd situation that would result: many, perhaps infinitely many gods and universes, all isolated from each other. But where did this community of gods come from? That would raise the question of whether there is a God above all these gods. Perhaps the gods of the universes are merely a very powerful race that owes its existence to the true, omnipotent God. So again, the remaining options would be one true God or no truly omnipotent gods at all. But an observer in any given universe might see the effects of a what appears to be an omnipotent God but is actually a finite being.

I still have some lingering questions about what it means to be omnipotent. As JC’s post rightly states, God cannot will a condition that logically contradicts itself, such as placing himself both inside and absolutely not inside of a wall at the same time. This does not lessen his omnipotence, because the requirement to be somewhere and also not somewhere at the same time is a nonsense statement. But was God able to choose his own nature? For example, according to the Bible, God is infinitely good. For this to be true, God can never perform an act which is not good, such as lying. So God cannot be both infinitely good and a liar, but did he have the opportunity to choose between these two options? If we take God to be infinitely good, then if there was ever a choice, it has already been made and cannot now be reversed. This would mean that God, although omnipotent, is incapable of lying. But is this restriction intrinsic to God’s nature, or did he choose to be this way? In other words, is God unable to lie because a lying God is a logical contradiction, or because he once chose that he would never lie?

As for why the universe (or multiverse) should have exactly one God, I have one observation. Either the universe has always existed (so that energy and the laws of physics are eternal), or it was created somehow. This creator could be a single God or a community of gods who are all eternal but are all bounded by their allocated subspace of the multiverse. The latter option seems implausible, and I see no reason why the laws of physics should have existed from eternity of their own accord. Even if all of the material universe and the laws of physics can be explained and summed up in a single, all-encompassing Law, why did this law ever exist, and what gave it the opportunity to act? Did this Law of Nature contain the impetus to create a universe to exert itself upon? In other words, did the Law of Nature will the universe into existence? I find it much easier to accept that the source of this ultimate will is a living being: a single, infinite, omnipotent God who is the Source of all other things, the God who, when asked to give his name, needed only to say “I AM.” (Exodus 3:14) His eternal nature is still unexplainable, but I think this is the most likely option.

I might go so far as to say that this single God, the I AM, is in a sense the ultimate Law of Nature—not that God is a mere force, but that the fundamental workings of the universe ultimately stem from God Himself. The laws of physics tell us of forces that drive the universe (gravity, electromagnetism, etc.) but can tell us nothing of why they exist. I contend that God upholds these forces and laws by his will, that it is God who gives spacetime its breadth, the forces between galaxies their strength and the laws of physics their authority, that God, although not the most detailed answer to the scientist’s basic question, “How?” (math does that job already), is forever the answer to the basic human question, “Why?” And this is one of the reasons why the primary goal of my life is to learn more about this God and to love and serve him.

In my last blog post, I listed a few quotes including this one:

There are certain doors you have to go through alone.
—Joe Banks (from Joe Versus the Volcano)

For one thing, I find it interesting that such a profound quote came from a movie that has such a ridiculous title. (By the way, if you haven’t seen that movie, you should watch it.) In response to a question from a friend of mine, JC, I’d like to explain what prompted me to post that quote.

A few years ago I read Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis. In this book, Lewis attempts to explain the basics of Christianity, those beliefs which are common to all Christian denominations and churches. Christianity, as the word implies, is about following and worshipping the Christ (“the anointed one”), Jesus. It is possible to be a follower of Christ without being a member of any particular church – not a member of Catholicism, Protestantism or Orthodoxy, for example, but subscribing only to “mere” Christianity.

After my last blog post, JC asked if the quote I posted above refers to this passage in Mere Christianity:

[Mere Christianity] is…like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms…it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in…. [While in the hall] you must keep on praying for light: and, of course, even in the hall, you must obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all, you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and panelling. In plain language, the question should never be: “Do I like that kind of service?” but “Are these doctrines true: Is there holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?”

I remembered this passage immediately, and although I was not consciously thinking of the passage when selecting the quote from Joe Banks, this idea is precisely what I was referring to. At the moment, I consider my religion to be roughly “mere Christianity.” In the terms of the analogy above, I have stepped into the hallway, which is a place unsuitable for any long stay. What remains, therefore, is for me to choose a door. And this is where the unexpectedly profound wisdom of Joe Banks, battler of volcanoes, comes in: I can seek advice from any number of people, read a library full of books, and pray for guidance, but in the end, only I can make a choice for myself, and I must do it alone. By “alone,” I mean that I could ask people of various denominations for their opinion on which variety of Christianity to choose, but practically everyone would favor their own denomination. Whichever door I choose, the decision will be mine alone.

My parents raised me as a Christian, and for this I am deeply grateful. They showed me where to look to find life for my soul, which is a greater gift than anything else I could ever receive. Now I think it’s time for me to find the style of Christianity that I believe is closet to the ultimate Truth. I haven’t yet made my decision, but I think I’m getting close. I hope that whatever choice I make doesn’t alienate me from any of my friends and family, but again, I have to choose the door and walk through it alone. One thing’s for sure: it’s drafty out here in this hallway. I want to find a room and go inside.

Here are some quotes that I like or that seem relevant to my life at the moment:

There are certain doors you have to go through alone.
—Joe Banks (from Joe Versus the Volcano)

Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!
—Jesus

I am the way and the truth and the life.
—Jesus

Kamikaze, my death is gain
I’ve been marked by my Maker, a peculiar display
The high and lofty, they see me as weak
’Cause I won’t live and die for the power they seek
—dc Talk

Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!
—John the Baptist

I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
—Walt Whitman
YOP!
—A Who from “Horton Hears a Who”

In an earlier post, I said that I knew of only two French science fiction films: La Jetée (1962) and Alphaville (1965). There was actually one other film that I knew about: a silent film from 1902 titled Le voyage dans la lune, or A trip to the moon. (I have since been informed about La cité des enfants perdus, or The City of Lost Children, a film from 1995.)

Le voyage dans la lune is about ten minutes long, depending what frame rate it’s played at. It fell out of copyright long ago, so you can watch it or download it from the Internet Archive in French or English. The film is actually a little longer than the online versions that I found, but all it’s missing is some more celebration at the end of the film. I added the English version below.

And here, for no particular reason, I will post a paper that I wrote about one of the scenes in this film in a French films class last year. I didn’t bother translating it, because I sometimes had to use awkward phrasing in French because I’m not very good at French, and a translation would have come out sounding even worse.

La séquence j’ai choisi de Le Voyage dans la Lune est le scène où les astronautes sont sur la surface de la lune. Ils atterrissent sur la lune et ils regardent leur nouveau paysage jusque il commence neiger, quand ils descendent dans la lune.

Celle séquence entier à un seule point de vue du spectateur ; tous les plans à la même échelle des plans, et le caméra ne se déplacent pas. C’est essentiellement un seul plan pour la séquence entier, mais il y a des coupes pour effectue les trucages. Le point de vue est encadré sur le gauche et le droit par des montagnes. Au-dessus, il y a un cadre mais il est difficile savoir ce que c’est. Peut-être il y a des nuages dans le ciel, ou peut-être il est une parte du plateau qui existe seulement fonctionner comme un cadre pour le scène. Au-dessous, on voit la surface de la lune. Avec ce cadre complet, les environs semble assez confiné, et la lune semble être une place petite. On peut regarder la plupart de la lune d’un seule emplacement, et on n’a que besoin de regarder dans une seule direction ! Les astronautes regardent seulement ce que le spectateur peut voir : ils voient rien à gauche ou à droit du point de vue du spectateur, et il ne regardent jamais envers le spectateur. Le point de vue n’a besoin de changer parce que sur cette terre petite, le spectateur a vu déjà tout qu’on voudrait voir !

Dans celle séquence, premièrement l’astronef atterrissent et les six astronautes sortent. Ils commencent admirer leurs neauvaux environs. Soudain, l’astronef disparaît inexplicablement. Personne s’apercevoit ; peut-être il disparaît parce que sans l’astronef, le spectateur peut voir plus de les environs et l’astronef n’a pas d’importance jusque les astronautes veut rentre à Terre. La disparition de l’astronef est le première effet spécial dans celle séquence.

Les astronautes marchent au droit et le spectateur peut voir le paysage avec des grands montagnes. Ensuite, les astronautes regardent la Terre se lève. Tragiquement, ce n’est pas possible : si on serait sur la lune, on pourrait voir la Terre mais il ne se lèverait pas comme la lune se lève pour un spectateur sur Terre, en raison d’une rotation synchrone. [référence] Mais toutefois, ils regardent la Terre se lève, et des montagnes tombent quand des autres montagnes sur le horizon restent en place. C’est un événement impossible, mais il est intéressant à voir pour les astronautes et le spectateur. Dans un terre étranger, on voit les événements étrangers et spectaculaires.

Après ça, les astronautes explorent leur nouveau terre jusque le deuxième événement spectaculaire (et aussi le deuxième trucage de la séquence) : une explosion. Les astronautes tombent et un feu commence. Le feu arrête soudainement quand le film a un coupe. Les astronautes se lèvent mais l’astronaute qui était le plus près de l’explosion semble avoir mal. La lune est un place dangereux.

Apparemment fatigué par le voyage et l’excitation, les astronautes se couchent. Pendant leur sommeil, un comète ou une étoile filante traverse le ciel. Ensuite, le sept plus brillantes étoiles de la Grande Ourse apparaissent, et ils a les visages des femmes. Quand les étoiles apparaissent, les astronautes ne peut pas dormir. Les étoiles semble perturbé que les astronautes sont sur la lune. Après les étoiles disparaissent, deux femmes avec un autre étoile apparaissent, et aussi une femme dans un demi-lune et un homme dans une planète (peut-être Saturne). Ils sont personnifications d’objets célestes, comme l’homme dans la lune. Ils ne veut pas les astronautes sur la lune.

Dans ce film, la présence des hommes sur la lune a beaucoup de importance à l’univers. Le première scène (avant celle séquence) de l’astronef sur la lune dépeint l’astronef être très grande avec la lune assez petite et renversée à la perturbation. Dans celle séquence, la lune est un lieu petit. Les étoiles et planètes considèrent la présence des hommes remarquée, et peut-être menaçant. Les hommes a conquièrent la distance vaste entre la Terre et la lune ; après celle séquence, nous voir que les hommes peut conquièrent les Sélénites avec facilité. Le genre humain est fort ! L’homme est puissant, et sa étendue élonge à les cieux ! L’univers n’est pas un domaine immense, inhospitalier, et indifférent ; il est un lieu fini où le genre humain peut survit et conquiert.

Mais les êtres célestes, les étoiles et les planètes, ne veut pas l’homme dans leur domaine ! Alors, ils effectuent une nuisance pour les astronautes : il neige pendant que les astronautes essayent dormir. Les étoiles et la planète disparaît quand il commence neiger. Les astronautes ne voient jamais les êtres célestes. En effet, ils sont symboles de l’hostilité de l’univers au-dehors du Terre à le genre humain. Comme il dit dans les Psaumes : « Les cieux sont les cieux de l’Éternel, Mais il a donné la terre aux fils de l’homme. » [Psaume 115:16] Si l’homme choisirait aller dans les cieux, ce qui n’est pas sont domaine, les êtres célestes peut essayent inciter rentrer à la Terre. Ici, le spectateur voit que la tempête de neige est de êtres célestes, mais les astronautes ne le savent pas. Car la tempête continue, les astronautes se lèvent et descendent dans une caverne pour échapper la neige. Ici, la séquence sur la surface de la lune fini.

En bref, les astronautes est arrivés sur la lune sans incident, mais comme ils commençaient explorer, il ont affronté premièrement une explosion et un feu, et ensuite un tempête de neige. La lune était un terre dangereuse, mais ils ont confronté leurs challenges et ont continué expédition. Les êtres célestes ont les opposé, et après celle séquence les Sélénites ont les opposé, mais à la fin du film, les astronautes sont rentrés à la Terre victorieux.

I had been using Blogger to run my blog, but some aspects of it aren’t customizable, and the code it outputs looks horrible. So I switched to WordPress, because now everything in theory is infinitely customizable. Hopefully, this change won’t particularly affect you—everything should just work. The rest of this post describes some of the issues I’ve run across in switching to WordPress.

When I was using Blogger, I actually got it up and running pretty quickly, and the default settings didn’t need to be changed too much. Well, I just spent far too much time trying to bow WordPress to my will. I had to install two plugins to make WordPress act in a sane manner: Set default timezone and disable WPAUTOP. The latter plugin makes it possible for me to make new posts without having WordPress indiscriminately throw <br /> tags all over my beautiful HTML. The former plugin makes WordPress stop listing the wrong time zone for UTC time stamps.

It turns out that time zone support in WordPress is dismal. Even with the Automatic timezone plugin, which I tried briefly, I can’t figure out how to make WordPress store all post and comment times in UTC and then display them in the time zone of my choice (so that if I change the time zone later, all of the previously displayed times change accordingly).

I eventually decided to display all times in UTC and just not worry about time zones. The exact times aren’t all that important, and so far, no one who’s posted a comment even lives in my time zone anyway. UTC is a nice default, and besides, it’s cooler than all the other time zones could ever dream of being.

I also installed the OpenID plugin, hoping that it would make logging in with any account as easy as it is in Blogger. No such luck. You can certainly log in using an OpenID, but you have to know your OpenID URL, for one thing. (If you’re on Blogger, log in as your_blog_name.blogspot.com.) But worse than that, when I logged in using my AOL account, it set my display name to “openid.aol.com/yellowantphil.” I imagine I could edit the OpenID plugin to make it set a different display name, but at this point, I decided to allow anyone to post comments without logging in. I might look into how the OpenID plugin works later, but it’s not an especially high priority right now.

Overall, getting WordPress tweaked to my liking took some work, compared to Blogger which more or less worked out of the box. But if nothing else, I like having blogging software hosted on my own website, so that Blogger can’t decide to pull the plug on me or place ads on my page someday.

Next up, I’m going to try using WordPress to power the news feed on my Wacky Wheels site. The news on that site is updated so infrequently that I have been doing just fine with coding all of the news items and creating the corresponding RSS feed by hand. I’m going to try using WordPress on the site just to see how well it scales down to such a minimal format.

This is a translation of a paper I wrote for a French films class last year about La Jetée, a 28-minute French science fiction film from 1962. (Incidentally, French science fiction films are very rare—I know of only one other film, although I’ve never seen it: Alphaville.) I also included the French version, although I imagine it has many grammar mistakes. I was never that good at French, so I translated what I meant, which for all I know is not what I wrote. Also, the paper included a discussion of an unrelated film which I had no interest in, so I cut everything from the paper related to that film.

When writing this paper I assumed that the reader had already seen the film, so it gives away parts of the plot, and it might be hard to follow the discussion. If you are inclined to watch the film, I recommend seeing it before you read this. I’m posting this because one of the concepts I brought up in the paper should lead in to some posts that I intend to write later.

I currently attend church at the Calvary Chapel in Newport News. Calvary Chapel is a family of churches (they inexplicably refuse to be called a denomination) that promotes the sort of doctrines and interpretations of the Bible that you would expect of an American conservative Protestant church. They are probably a bit more charismatic than most churches, and so put more emphasis on the gifts of the Holy Spirit, including the miraculous gifts. But by and large, the teachings you can hear from the pulpit of a Calvary Chapel will agree substantially with any number of other conservative Protestant churches.

Of course, I tend to agree with many of the views of the typical conservative Protestant church, and of my church in particular. If I didn’t, I would attend church somewhere else. But over the last several months, I’ve had a growing discontent with my church and my own beliefs. If you’ll excuse the pop culture reference (I’ll try to keep them to a minimum), I feel like Neo while he was still trapped in the Matrix: as if there’s something wrong but you can’t put your finger on what it is, as if there’s a higher truth right in front of you that you can’t quite see.

I’ve been learning about Catholicism in an attempt to see if there’s something they have that Protestants somehow forgot, some truth that got thrown by the wayside in the name of the Protestant Reformation. I’ve also started to look into the various other Christian churches, trying to piece together the full spectrum of the “Catholic” (i.e. universal) Christian Church. Studying this involves reading a fair amount about church history and doctrine, and I have not yet read enough to offer any particular insight at this time. But if you think about it, it seems almost certain that there are aspects to God and his relationship with us that are not fully explained by mainstream conservative American Protestant Christianity, a subset of the Christian Church which in my experience tends to forget that there are other branches of the one Church founded by Jesus himself.

Let me be clear about one thing: I fully believe in the triune God of the Bible (although the concept of the Trinity was made explicit only after the Bible was written), that Christianity is the one true religion and that Jesus is the only way to God. As far as I can remember, I have never doubted this. From time to time, I may question certain points of theology, or particular interpretations of the Bible, but I will never deny the fundamentals of the Christian faith. I hope above all else that I will be one of those who is “invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb” (Revelation 19:9), and I believe that through the death and resurrection of Jesus and by the grace of God, I will be on the guest list.

That said, I have on multiple occasions heard teachings in my current church that I disagree with. I hesitate to say anything that could be taken as criticism of my pastor (Tony Clark), mainly because I am wary of criticizing the Lord’s anointed leader of my church (cf. 1 Samuel 26:9 and Acts 23:3–5). I can see that God is working through my church and my pastor, and that my church has that life given by God which is all too hard to find in many churches. So I do not at all mean that my church is on the wrong path in general terms, or that Pastor Tony is misleading people in any serious way. But some of the teachings I hear in this church only contribute to my sense that I don’t quite believe the same things that the majority of the church accepts.

Today this sense was more acute than ever before. This morning, Pastor Tony started teaching through the book of Genesis, starting naturally enough in chapter one. We were a mere four words into the first verse, “In the beginning, God,” when he declared that these words disprove evolution. The reasoning goes like this: God existed from the beginning, so he is qualified to tell us what happened since no one else was there at the time, except apparently the angels. Because no human was there to observe what was happening, scientific theories on the origin of life and the universe are therefore necessarily incorrect.

This is, of course, a common argument among Young Earth creationists. Never mind the confusion between the Big Bang theory and the theory of evolution, which are separate theories but usually tied together in the minds of these creationists. Also, I am not going to argue for or against evolution here. (Actually, I never even took a real biology class in high school or college, so I feel particularly unqualified to discuss the merits of any theory in biology.) But to claim that science can offer no insight into the history of the universe simply because no one was there betrays a fundamental lack of understanding of the nature of science.

Few people will question scientific data such as the diameter of our galaxy (100,000 light years). Who is at the other end of the galaxy holding a tape measure? Why, if it is acceptable to determine such distances through indirect means, is it not acceptable to apply the laws of physics to the current state of the universe and extrapolate backwards?

The real point of disagreement between science and Young Earth creationism, of course, is that if you believe that the universe was created in six literal days a few thousand years ago, you will simply reject all scientific claims to the contrary on the basis of faith. This is fine, but if you take this position, it is futile to attack scientific theories that require the universe to be older. You do not, after all, base your beliefs of the history of the universe on science, so what difference does it make if science comes to a different conclusion than you do?

All throughout the sermon this morning, the pastor ridiculed scientific theories, throwing out naive claims about the unreliability of scientific data. Multiple people in the congregation vocally agreed with his jabs at science, edging the congregation toward a level of excitement rarely seen when listening to a sermon on any topic. Is this what conservative Christianity has become? Does everyone show up in church just to hear what their “itching ears want to hear” (2 Timothy 4:3)? Is the church more about solidarity than seeking out the truth of God, no matter how inconvenient it is to reconcile it with our preconceived notions?

I believe that God gave us minds and the curiosity to understand how the universe works for a reason. I also believe in the value of science to describe the natural world (that is, the world excluding any supernatural phenomena or influences). This should come as no surprise, considering that I am working on a master’s degree in physics. My pastor, if today’s sermon is any indication, never studied science to any serious extent. I am quite content to let my pastor report his research in his area of expertise, which is the Bible. He can quote thousands upon thousands of verses from all over the Bible. At one time, I think he was well on his way to memorizing the Bible. But I do not go to my dentist for advice on my finances; in the same vein, I do not ask my pastor to provide his opinions on science.

This is somewhat of an aside, but just for the record, I believe that the universe is some 13 or 14 billion years old. I have heard the Biblical arguments against this (many times), and I reject them. I still believe that the Bible is true, and if you are interested, I will tell you my interpretation of the first couple chapters of Genesis.

My main problem with my pastor advocating Young Earth creationism, other than his unnecessary attacks on science from this morning, is not that he interprets the Bible differently than I do. Instead, I get the impression that he simply dismisses any other interpretation of the first two chapters of the Bible out of hand. It is a dangerous thing to assume that your interpretation of the Bible is absolutely correct, that anyone who disagrees with you is gravely mistaken. The Bible itself is truth and speaks with the authority of God, but any human’s attempt to understand what the Bible says is certain to be incomplete at best.

I have on occasion toyed with the idea of finding a new church, but I have decided to stay at my current church for this reason: I believe it’s important to discuss the Bible and theology with people who do not fully agree with your own viewpoints. To quote my friend Steve Goss, “conservative Christianity has a particular interpretation of scripture that is very interconnected and internally coherent.” That doesn’t mean that it’s correct. We must agree on the fundamental teachings of Christianity (Jesus’ death and resurrection, our inability to save ourselves, etc.), but we should be willing to discuss some of the more peripheral contemporary beliefs and consider the possibility that we have been mistaken. And so I will remain at my church, a heretic of sorts, promoting discussions and suggesting that the mainstream viewpoint may be wrong.

I certainly have not figured everything out, and much of my own theology is ill-defined at the moment, pending my investigation into other Christian beliefs and traditions. But may God protect all of us from complacency and from the belief that we have already attained a complete knowledge of God and of his word.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,      “To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—      Of cabbages—and kings— And why the sea is boiling hot—      And whether pigs have wings.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a blog now. I intend to post to it on an erratic and unpredictable schedule. I’ll probably tweak the formatting and colors of this page some, but in the meantime, I will merely point out that the bluish gray color in the background is my favorite color.

By the way, if anyone is wondering, that quote is from a poem named The Walrus and the Carpenter, from Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll.