A Modest Proposal for Empirical (A)Theology

Great Debates
1

I have an idea for what could be a very interesting thread.

The old God question has been kicked around at length recently. Ken, Lib and I and a few others had been making a lot of noise on the subject when the Pounder Invasion happened (and I like the folks that have stayed a lot!). Okay, to a theist, nothing is more obvious than the underlying presence of God in the world. Somehow, neither formal logic, reference to the Bible, nor observational data seem to have convinced the other posters of this. :o Maybe what we need to do is, given those datasets, to agree to disagree.

But there is one thing that unites the entire SDMB affiliates: a devotion to the truth. Give us an urban legend, and we swarm as one to debunk it.

Here’s my thought: at least a few of us Christians have undergone a conversion experience or series of experiences where we apprehended empirically something that we took to be the presence of God. I’ve told my story on this in brief a couple of times, Lib has alluded to his, and either or both of Tris and RT have mentioned something of the sort. I’d suspect that at least one or two Pounders have experiences to report as well. I’d suggest that any of us who are willing submit our “how I met God” stories to analysis.

A couple of ground rules seem appropriate:
[ul][li]This is not, except for the obvious, witnessing time. We’re doing reportage on events in our lives in this thread, for analysis. If it happens to function as an effective witness, so much the better – I hope it will. But that’s not the primary purpose.[/li][li]Whether or not a given poster believes or disbelieves is not at issue. An assertion to the effect that “Your ‘god’ does not exist, so that’s all bull-puckey” is as far out of place here as quoting off John 1:14 to prove him would be. If you’re convinced it’s bull-puckey, ask questions to prove it.[/li][li]Clearly one objective analysis of the stories would be that we are all self-deluded. For purposes of this thread, that is a trivial solution. It may be one possible explanation, but it proves nothing.[/li][li]Our job in reporting is to be as objective as possible. Distinguish “God said to me…” from “I heard a voice in my head that purported to be God which said to me…”[/li][li]Hurt feelings are quite possible. In your analytical questioning, be critical but be gentle. Things of prime importance to those subjecting themselves to questioning are being dealt with. And, given that, if somebody seems to be sniping at you, give it a charitable interpretation if possible.[/li][li]There are no preconceptions being made here. We are seeking to get at the truth behind reported experiences, and only indirectly proving or disproving some metaphysical concept underlying them.[/ul][/li]
Does this sound like a worthwhile process?

Next time, do it right.

2

Well, usually… :wink: (Sorry, Lib, I had to say it. Blame Satan!)

3

Well, almost as one, as one of this morning’s hot threads shows. :wink:

That aside, it sounds like a worthwhile process to me. As you correctly recall, I’ve alluded to, but not described, my conversion experience. I’ll type something up and post it later; I may even dust off my journal from 1970 after I get home. This should be fun!

4

Ah, the joy of simulposting!

5

I think Satan is (sensibly) staying away from a thread called “Up the Butt, Bob”! :wink:

6

Hey, when alsmith was talking about his ass in the “Evolution without religion” (or something like that) thread, Satan was happy people were talking about somebody else’s ass!

Man, it didn’t take us long to hijack this thread, did it?

7

So, is this evidence for his conversion?

8

It may be worthwhile. It should also include the thoughts of former, or “lapsed,” or “backslidden,” or whatever-you-want-to-call-them Christians who underwent a conversion experience or series of experiences, empirically determining the existence of the Christian God, then later re-evaluated the data to discover something other than what they originally thought and thus no longer believe,

“It’s my considered opinion you’re all a bunch of sissies!”–Paul’s Grandfather

9

I completely agree, Phil. This would provide even more food for thought.

So who goes first? :cool:

“Life is like a new suit of clothes. If it doesn’t fit, make alterations.”
–the old woman in Silverado

10

From the view of rational skepticism this seems a modest proposal indeed. And in the case of events that I have witnessed which can be described in simple factual terms, easily accomplished. I cannot speak for anyone else, but my own personal miracle was rather different. Nothing that happened to me was of the “Hollywood special effects” sort of occurrence. I was personally visited by the spirit of God. I began the day skeptical, and filled with questions. I did not get answers, and I did not witness any events, which one might not expect to see on any day on any street corner. I ended the day a Christian, with faith, where doubt once dwelt.

To my perceptions, which included my own thoughts, and the world at large, there was a miracle. Even to me it was a low budget, half-shekel miracle. Wind and shadow, cold and sunshine did the same things that weather does every winter day. Not a trace was left behind, as evidence. God spoke to me. He did not give me a message for you. My every doubt was gone, and no other answer than this replaced them; God loves me. I changed my understanding of the cliché to the joyous faith that the three words mean what they say, personally, from Him, to me.

What was different that day, than any other day? It was Christmas, but that was not new, only specific. I was a bit less stoned than other days, at the time. Not entirely unlikely in those days, but rare. I was more or less as miserable about pretty much the same things as any other day, for that time. Nothing specific was different from any other day for several years before it happened. (Well, I suppose it is germane that I was officially not crazy, for almost a year, by that time. I think I had been actually not crazy for longer, but then my judgement was impaired by definition during the time I was crazy. But, it had been over by then for a year, even in the professional judgement of doctors, and consensus of my acquaintances and friends.)

What was different was that I asked. I really spoke to God, as a person, as Jesus, the man, and God the creator of the universe, and the Holy Spirit of love. I asked Him to help me, because I really wanted Him to help me. I asked Him to love me, because I really didn’t love myself. I really meant it. He answered, I believed it, and the miracle happened. The miracle was the creation of faith, where there had been no faith. Fool that I am, I could not overcome doubt, even after speaking with God, Himself. So, a week later, in about the same place and circumstances, He dropped by again, to remind me. Thoughtful of Him, don’t you think, what with being God of all the Universe, and all?

He is there still, in that place, and this one, at that time, and now, and a thousand nows, and heres. Wherever you are, He is. What you know, He knows. Speak, and He shall hear, and if you listen, He will speak to you as well. It is all so very simple. Remember that. You cannot figure it out. It is too difficult. You cannot bid it to be. You are not strong enough. You cannot be lost. He can find you. No one else in all the world has anything more important to tell you than Him. Please listen.

Make of your heart a dwelling place for the Lord. Empty it of hate, and fear will flee, and you will find love growing there, and there, you will meet the Lord of All. His name is Jesus. It is miracle enough to prove it to you, although it will not prove it to anyone else. Do not drag your miracle through the laboratory, or show it on TV. It is the most precious thing that ever came to you. Hold it in your heart, and share it with those who would know Him.

<P ALIGN=“CENTER”>Tris</P>

“There will be more joy in Heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous ones, who need no repentence.” Luke 15:7

11

This thread will live or die on the degree of objectivity to which these stories must be held.

The OP’s definition was clear:

Can anyone devise a test to determine into which of these categories any given experience might fall? I think not.

12

My “story”.

As a born skeptic now “born again skeptic” here’s what happened.

I have had MANY mystical experiences in my life, Natives seem to have that, I dunno why.

I discount voices, messages from God, “burning in the bosom” (Mormon), lights from the sky, etc. Anyone on peyote can see and hear all kinds, and I mean ALL kinds of stuff. I say, so what?

I had Jesus “preached” to me when I was 18 and dying of testicular cancer. I bought it. Then some good hearted atheists brought some things to my attention and I began to REALLY search for answers.

I read Mortimer J. Adler’s “How to think about God”.

Adler was born a Jew and was an atheist until he searched out the matter logically and found reasons, using logic, to believe in a God, he then searched further and found reasons to believe in the Protestant Christian God.

After all the “experiences” I’ve had, it is his writings and my own research of Biblical truth that have led me to believe what I do today.

I was/am a die-hard skeptic. You gotta show me more than some “miracles” or “experiences” you can’t prove.

Cuz if I were to believe things on such flimsy evidence I would say that all things go back to the grassy knoll and I would be expecting the aliens to be activating the “chip” from the Mothership any moment.

Ken

Phaedrus, Defender of Truth, Justice, and the Native American Way

13

Tris, that was truly beautiful. Thank you.

The miracle was in the gift of faith in God the person. And I would be the last person here to deny that. Many of our beloved friends here are rational skeptics. And it is to their rationality that I have addressed this thread. I’ve suggested we (all) analyze our (converted theists’ – and, as Phil noted, lapsed converts’) experiences to find out the truth.

In that spirit, Tris, may I ask how God responded to you. Did you sense a voice? a certainty present within you that had not been there (as I did)? Something else? Can you explain how you perceived His response?

Keeves, I must disagree with you. The OP was unclear. That “distinguish between…” passage was intended as how to report, not as how to interpret. In previously reporting my experience in other threads, I tried to avoid imputing to what I perceived what I “knew” it to be, but rather stating what I perceived. I’m asking the same of those who want to describe their experiences here.

14

Tris, Poly is right. That was beautiful, and inspirational.

I don’t want any here to think I am casting shadows of doubt on their experience(s). I just need more than that to go on. But, hey, that’s just me.

Ken

15

I think this will be a great thread. I look forward to the replies.

“Glitch … Window, large icons.” - Bob the Guardian

16

Tris:

I don’t know when I’ve ever savored anything more beautiful. Thank you.

Poly:

Mine wasn’t epiphanous in the sense of seeing visions or anything, but I do distinctly recall a great rush that I can only describe as a sort of “spiritual whirlwind”. I was stoned and in the back of a microbus with a bunch of other hippies, so the rush might have been at least partially physical. But I was translating John, and I was at the 8th chapter near the end.

What I would do is transcribe word by word, and then look at the whole English and start trying to make sense of it. There is no punctuation, and so it is even trickier than a normal transliteration would be. And I remember very well the process, word by word, as I wrote: “Before…”, “Abraham…”, “Was…”, “I…”, “Am…”.

Opps. Check that. Wait a minute. Must be a mistake. Nawp. Hey, wait. What?

It is impossible to adequately convey to you what this did to me. You’d have to know about the years of linguistic study I had done and about my love for it. You’d have to understand that I could “feel” language in my bones. The patterns were like music to me. It was something (one of the few things, frankly) for which I had a profound gift and understanding. I knew thier nuances. I knew why Russian is better for negotiating treaties, but English is better for obfuscating law. I had even invented several languages of my own of different styles.

When I comprehended fully that before Abraham was He is, I died. And in that instant I was resurrected. It was far and away the happiest moment of my life.

17

Polycarp asks

Yes, I can. I also know that it does not constitute evidence in any legal sense, or any scientific sense. I have some considerable experience with delusional perception, as well, in my own mind, as well as others. It is entirely logical to reject the entire experience I will relate as wishful thinking, and projection of my desires upon ordinary events. No other witnesses, and had they been there, they would have noticed nothing.

It was cold, and windy, and cloudy. I was standing by the side of the road, hitchhiking to work, at about noon on Christmas day. I thought of a lot of things, most of them filled with sorrow, about my life. I was tired of weeping, and well passed complaining to anyone. I recall the moment with a clarity that is difficult to describe. I closed my eyes. I asked out loud. “Please, Lord, what am I supposed to do? How can I stop feeling like dying?” I waited. It got very still. (That is, the wind stopped blowing entirely.) I asked, “Lord are you here?”

(I know it is hard to believe, but the idea of opening up my eyes to check simply did not occur to me, then or at any time during the meeting. I thought about it afterward, and not doing so seemed to be much more reasonable at the time than it did later. I did not even think of it at the time.)

As soon as I spoke, I was sure that He was there. The sun shown down on me, and I was warm. I was warm in a way I had never really felt before, but warm physically as well. I suddenly felt strong doubts. ** In the exact moment I doubted,** the wind blew, the sun went dark, and I was cold. I cried out to Him, again. As the words left my lips, the sun, and warmth returned, and the wind stilled again. This sounds so trivial, as I describe it, and that makes me almost sorry that I am posting this, but I must not loose courage. That simple thing, warm sun, and still wind was the stuff of my miracle. For an hour he guided my heart with his love. Each doubt and each recalcitrance brought the wind, and the darkness. Every simple surrender to His dominion, and His love brought the warm sun, and calmed the wind.

Maple Avenue and Nutley St. in Vienna VA. is not holy ground, by the way. But it is a fairly busy street, even on Christmas day. No one drove by, on either street while we were standing there. I was alone with my Savior, and each moment that I spent in simple acceptance of His Love was a timeless joy of warm sun, and kindness beyond my greatest wishful dream.

In the end, I realized that He was with me always, whether I let myself know it or not. I understood that His love is love, personal, real, and because of His sacrifice, it is human love, as well as the Love of God. He suffered for me. Personal friend of mine, you know, and he went to bat on my behalf, because I was not up to it, and he didn’t want to lose me forever because of it. He did it for me, because He loves me. Theology never meant a thing to me, but here was faith for me. Peter got a fish, and a shekel. That was what he needed. I got light and warmth, and shelter from the wind.

I did not hear a voice, I did not see a man. I felt Him there, but did not check. After I felt assured, and at peace, I thought of work. I was suddenly aware that a lot of time had passed. The first car to drive by stopped, and I got a ride to work. I was on time. I had spent more than an hour on the roadside. A week later, I was very doubtful that what had happened was really the presence of the Lord. New Years day. A block down the road, I was hitchhiking to work again. Another cloudy day, as windy and even colder. It all happened again. The same things again for another hour, and the same lesson, with a new one as well. I learned that He loves me, and knows my heart, my doubts, my weakness, and my sorrow. He is always there, it is I who do not always turn to him.

This will not convince anyone, and having it happen to them might not convince them either. It was not their miracle. It was mine. It worked. I understand Peter much more, now. He needed the shekel, the Lord gave him a one shekel miracle. It was the miracle Peter needed. I got one too. It was exactly the miracle I needed. We laughed, the Lord and I about how silly my need for that “proof” was. His laughter is as joyful as anything I have ever know. His love is greater still.

He loves you too. Talk to Him about it.

<P ALIGN=“CENTER”>Tris</P>

Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing yet they give their lives to that little or nothing.
– **Joan of Arc **

18

Tris and Lib, thank you both for sharing those most personal moments.

Mine was like this:

I came to know the Lord in September, 1970, when I was sixteen.

Beforehand, I was painfully introverted. In that era, long before nerds and geeks gained their contemporary cachet, that description definitely fit me. At the time I came to know the Lord, I was trying to fight my way out of my isolation, but really didn’t have a clue about how to start.

A local ecumenical group had started a ‘coffeehouse’, really a supervised teen hangout, in a former county bus garage. They’d furnished it in the grungy chic of the era: carpet remnants, spool tables, etc. My older sister went there often, but I’d never been, until one evening just after school began, when she asked me if I’d like to come along.

After we got there, she let me hang out with her for a short while before pushing me off on my own (otherwise, her geeky, introverted kid brother would have clung to her the whole evening, and she didn’t need that). I wandered over towards a table where a guy was singing and playing the guitar for some of his friends, and I listened in from the fringes.

When he was done, the people at the table noticed me and welcomed me in. I got into a conversation with the guy sitting next to me. Our conversation got personal after awhile, and after I shared my rather bleak philosophy of life with him, he told me about how God loved me, in a way that wasn’t just a love from the distant remove I’d always understood God to be at, but a love that was stronger and deeper than anything the world could throw at me. He told me about how he had come to believe, and how he had been changed. And, as my journal for that night says, I was hooked.

I remember that night, not exactly as if it were yesterday, but still in great detail for something that happened so long ago. And the emotional impact of the recollection hasn’t dimmed one iota over the decades; this is slow going because, as I type, tears of wonder and joy and amazement keep running down my face. But there are three things in particular I remember from that night.

One is the warmth of the presence of God that I felt that night. And over the years, that has been one of the constants of His presence for me: even when He makes me face up to painful truths about myself (not an infrequent occurrence!), the warmth of His love and care for me is always present and palpable.

Another is the sense of the world being reoriented, as if I was seeing the world along a whole new set of coordinate axes, with just a few more dimensions than the old one had. The world went out of focus, and then back in, but in a whole new way.

And third, it seemed as if my eyes were opened for the first time. It seemed as if I could see things that I couldn’t see before; they might have been right in front of my eyes, but they had been invisible to me. Things mattered that hadn’t mattered before.

Particularly, in being pulled into a world with the presence of God at the heart of it, I was pulled into the world of people, as well. And I plunged into that world with all the joy, curiosity, unselfconsciousness and fearlessness of, well, a newborn. (When I stumbled across 2 Cor. 5:17 several weeks later, my reaction was: yes, that’s exactly what’s happened!) God loved me, and I had to share that with the people around me, who, all of a sudden, I could see and comprehend, and with whose lives I became rapidly intertwined.

The building that used to house the UCM Coffeehouse, on North Kings Highway near U.S.1 just south of Alexandria, isn’t exactly holy ground either, but it was on that night.

19

Firefly:

Thank you. It was like a rebirth, everything becoming new.

20

This wasn’t a “conversion” experience as much as a “2x4 between the eyes” experience.

First I’ll start that I accepted Christ as my Savior when I was 11, but I was in a church that was somewhat less than inspired and my family was even less inspired at the time. So my faith wavered and floundered and basically went nowhere.

By the time I reached my late teens, and particularly after high school, many things began to build up on me and I became very discouraged and then depressed. I felt like God was no where around me and was doing nothing for me. I prayed, first for Him to take away my struggles and pains, then to just take me out of this world altogether. Neither happened, so I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. I contemplated hwo to end my life and came up with the perfect strategy.

Late one night, when things were at the point when I couldn’t go on, I would crash my car into a huge oak tree on the corner of a back road. Well, that night came. I could see nothing positive in my life or in my future. I was going to do it. One second I’m speeding up heading for the tree, the next my car is stopped inches short of the tree. I don’t remember anything in between, especially slamming on the brakes. Skeptics would say I did and am not remembering it. Problem is, there were no skid marks from the brakes locking up. This was a '78 Chevy Monza so there were no anti-lock brakes.

Anyway, that should have been enough to get my attention, but it wasn’t. I felt like even more of a failure for not being able to finish what I intended to do.

Fastforward a few months and I’m driving in a pouring down rainstorm through a mountain road at 1am trying to get to a friend’s hunting cabin for a weekend away from it all. My friends had went on ahead of me because I had to work late. 1 mile from the cabin, I hit a patch of ice on a corner and the car slid out of control and down over the side in to a deep revine. My car bounced off a few trees and ended up sitting on a log out over a flooded stream. about 50 yards below the road. I wasn’t hurt in the least and was able to walk the remaining mile into the cabin. The next morning in looking things over, none of could believe what we saw. The car should have either hit any number of trees head on and/or flipped over. It did neither. And after calling a tow truck (nearest one 50 mi away) to get it pulled back up, it was actually driveable with some “field modifications” and fixing 2 of the tires.

While we were looking over all of this, one of my Christian friends looked at me and said to me, “God was with you last night”. I don’t remember what I might have said, but he whatever it was, it was enough for him to sit me down, once all this settled down, and talk with me about all that was going on.

What I learned out of all of this is that 1.) God did not want me dead because He had things for me to do, and to prove that to me, He protected me from two serious and deadly car crashes.
2.) He was there for me all along, I just wasn’t relying on Him to help me through my problems.

No, once I started relying on Him, my problems didn’t go away. But I was able to bear them and get through them and grow through them.

“We love Him because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19 †