Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

A Brief Pondering About Time

I love to think about concepts like time and space and their impact on things like theology and anthropology and sociology.

For instance, when Acts talks about Jesus ascending into the clouds to sit at the right hand of the father, I often find myself wondering how that worked. It seems to me that Jesus would have either exploded or suffocated as he rose in altitude, and even if by some supernatural intervention he did not, I wonder where he went. Our telescopes can see pretty far, and there is nothing around us resembling heaven for a long, long way. I guess he could have moved really, really fast, at speeds approaching the speed of light (or faster?), but then he would have experienced relativistic effects. Perhaps that is why Jesus can say he is coming back "soon" - from the standpoint of someone moving so fast, his return would not seem like a long time at all. But I digress.

A random phrase someone used in a meeting today triggered a thought I'd like to share, but to outline the thought I need to give a lesson in evolutionary epistemology. Don't worry - it won't hurt, and might actually be interesting.

As a sweeping generalization, evolutionary biologists tend to think that evolution has produced in higher lifeforms an accurate view of reality. Sure, we might be not be able to see into the infrared spectrum, or hear hypersonic frequencies, or feel the motion of the earth, but in general that information which our senses gives us and our consciousness determines is real is, in fact, an accurate reflection of reality. (Drugs, mental illness, and love not withstanding, of course.)

This seems reasonable, if I see a green field in front of me, there is every reason for me to believe that, in reality, there is a green field in front of me. Likewise, if I see a ferocious predator in front of me, there is every reason to believe there is a ferocious predator in front of me. My consciousness would then kick in and tell me to run away before I get eaten. Evolutionary biologists contend that the forces of evolution blindly select for those characteristics that accurately present reality, and therefore can be trusted.

Christian philosophers, like Alvin Plantinga, see a chink this logic, however. Dr. Plantinga contends that blind forces do not care whether or not reality is accurately represented. Lets use the example of the ferocious predator. All natural selection cares about is the survival of the individual, not the accuracy of perception. So, if I see a ferocious predator, and my consciousness kicks and tells me that if I run away, he will be my friend, then natural selection has achieved its goal. My perception is wrong (the predator will never be my friend), but the result it produces ensures survival. In other words, Plantinga believes that, if evolution is true, then our abilities are not necessarily designed to accurately describe reality, but instead to ensure survival.

Here's where time comes in. We all should perceive time as running one way. (If you don't, let me know. I have some questions.) No one to my knowledge has seen it run backwards. Yet there is no currently known reason in physics why it should run one way. (There's a lot of speculation involving stuff like entropy determining the arrow of time, but suffice it to say that there is a lot of disagreement about that.) Yet despite the fact that time doesn't seem to HAVE to run one way, we ALWAYS perceive it to run one way. What if it doesn't? What if the design of our faculties is such that we automatically ignore the hiccups that happen in time and see things always running one way? What if, at least in this pocket of space-time, survival is only dependent upon stuff that follows the arrow of time that we perceive, and all other information cannot be detected by our current equipment? What if?

The reason this captured me has to do with death. I'm not sure what happens to people between death and the judgment. Careful study shows that the Bible is at best ambiguous about it, and at worst in contradiction about where we go when we die. But if our perception of time is screwed up, then all the pieces can be made to fit. In fact, other things about how God might interact with us start to make sense, too. (See this post for some possibilities. Which, by the way, is my favorite of all the posts I have written.) We could very well close our eyes in death, and skip through time to the point of being resurrected. Everyone would enter eternity at the same "point", though their deaths are separated by large amount of "time".

In any case, I thought it was cool. So, the next time I'm around and you see my mind wander off somewhere, I'm probably thinking about something like this.

(Disclaimer: I realize the perception problem can be solved by denying evolution. I also realize you get on a slippery slope with saying our perception of time might be wrong. But ultimately I've been convinced by the arguments of Plantiga, Christian biologists (e.g., Collins, Miller), modern theologians (e.g., McGrath, Polkinghorn, Peacocke), and contemporary cosmology that the answer to evolution and reality is more complicated than taking Genesis 1&2 literally.)

Friday, March 31, 2006

Many Colored Days

Having a toddler, I get the pleasure and pain of reading lots of toddler books. Most of them are mundane and repetitive, but one of them recently got my attention.

Though I've probably read it close to a hundred times now, recently one phrase from My Many Colored Days keeps repeating over and over again in my mind: "You'd be surprised how many ways I change on different colored days."

I can see the point of the phrase. I mean, when someone reads my blog, some days I'm happy, other days are sad, and that comes out not only in what I write, but how I write it.

But I wonder about my many colored days. Every day I'm both happy and sad, sassy and pensive, reflective and brash. Every moment of every day these things are swirling around inside me, looking for a trigger to get out. But how can that be? How can I be both happy and sad?

The reality, I think, is that every happy time in my life is at least partially colored by a sad time, and likewise every sad time is colored by a happy time. My previous experience colors how I understand each and every moment, and my actions in response to that understanding color how you know me. When you get to know me, you travel in time and visit my past in each every moment that I respond to you. Likewise, you cause me to travel in time as you face my actions and respond to them.

As I reflect even more on my life, I realize that the parts that hurt make me who I am more than the parts that don't. Not only do the parts that hurt cause me to be more reserved, more cautious, they also remind me of my failures, of things lost and broken. Even during the happy times, the parts that hurt dig deep, they pinch and cut, and they drive me into the future to find the thing that can heal the wounds.

I wonder about the future. Am I more than the sum of my past? Is there redemption for the painful experiences that remain forever fixed in time, integrated into who I am becoming? Does heaven mean that God erases the painful parts of who I am, and in the process erase the very thing that makes me unique - the very thing that causes me to search after Him?

Somehow, I don't think so. Somehow I think that God leaves the parts that hurt - the things that make me, me. But how can a just God leave the pain just sitting there? How can a just God allow the events of Auschwitz to remain hanging in time? How can a healing Father allow the events surrounding my Dark Time in college to still swirl around inside me, coloring all I see? How can the infinite beauty of heaven coexist with the painful events that make us who we are - the very things that cause us to grope after the divine?

Maybe it's all about color. Maybe the beautiful, colorful God interacts with us in as we grope for goodness. Maybe when He touches us, he travels in time to our past, and sees our hurts and pain, sees how they color our lives and make us who we are. Maybe when we touch Him, we travel deep into the past, being colored as the infinte God interacts with us, and shows us His presence, making us new. Not new because our past is erased, but new because as we travel into the past, our perspective is shifted. No longer is each and every moment of hurt colored by pain, but in each and every painful frame of our lives our interaction with God shows Him there, interacting with us, being hurt with us. God's presence in the horrors of the past heals our painful memories and dissolves the repressions we use to keep painful memories from hurting us more. God colors my Dark Time, he colors Auschwitz by breaking down the barriers that keep full healing from taking place, then the God of all creation shows us what true healing looks like. In this way we are both the same, and made new.

So as I stretch towards the future, in search of healing and wholeness, I realize that God is slowly changing my perspective, slowing coloring me to see Him in every one of my many days - he literally changes my days to a different color. So, to me, the meaning becomes much more profound:
"You'd be surprised how many ways I change on different colored days"