Kreitsauce's Musings

As confident as the so-called New Atheists are that God does not exist, you would have thought that science had disproven His existence. In fact, they try to whittle God down to a manageable size by- instead of dealing with Him as a Person- label Him as the “God Hypothesis.” Hypotheses are easy to dismiss. God isn’t.

Richard Dawkins is my favorite of the New Atheists because he is quite reckless at this. Consider his book The God Delusion. Dawkins is a scientist, yet he writes a book on religion and pretends that it is science. In it he writes: “The presence or absence of a creative super-intelligence is univocally a scientific question.” So,  of course, because Dawkins is a materialist, Dawkins rules out all non-material existence or personhood. Therefore, in The Wonderful World of Dawkins, God must obey all laws of physics. You would have thought Dawkins were talking about gravity!

In the end, Dawkins decides that God is not a probable Being. I found this to be a bit odd, since Dawkins’ probability and statistics assumed that God was a contingent Being in a universe that forces Him (HIM!) to conform to its unalterable laws. Christianity, on the other hand, proclaims the existence of a God that is necessary, not contingent. Furthermore, probability deals more with the possibility that an event will occur. It measures the ratio of actual occurences and possible occurences of an event. God doesn’t “happen.” He is (hence the name “I AM.”) Dawkins and Christians still aren’t talking about the same Person!

Recently I’ve been reading Hugh Ross‘ book Why the Universe is the Way it Is, and it has certainly opened up my eyes to the incredible fine-tuning of our universe. Dr. Ross has a Ph.D. from the University of Toronto and is the president of Reason to Believe ministries. He’s spoken at over 300 colleges and universities. While Ross’ book is by no means exhaustive, it does an excellent job of helping the reader realize how very, very, VERY unlikely it is for us to exist without a Creator. A disclaimer: Ross does seem to believe in some form of theistic evolution, at least to the extent that God allowed the universe to evolve and then stepped in to make humans several billion years later. I prefer to believe that God either created the entire universe with the appearance of age (since He did so with Adam and the rest of life on earth) or that- thanks to general relativity- God’s act of creation actually did some really cool things to the flow of time. I tend to go with the second option, but I’m not going to explain the whole theory in detail at this time. I also see some value in studying whether or not time or light itself could be slowing down.

Below you’ll see a list of facts to support the anthropic principle, the belief that the universe exists specifically to support complex life forms:

• If the protons and neutrons (parts of an atom) were packed less densely in our universe, nuclear fusion would take place much more slowly or perhaps not at all. Anything heavier than helium- carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, sodium, potassium- wouldn’t form. If they were more densely packed, all of the hydrogen in the universe would fuse into elements at least as heavy as iron. The elements necessary for life wouldn’t exist.
• The center of the Milky Way Galaxy- or any galaxy for that matter- is the home a massive black hole and countless supernova remnants that spew forth lethal levels of radiation. Additionally, gravity from other stars would disturb the orbit of any planet significantly. Nothing could survive within 20,000 light years of the galactic center. On the other hand, if we were much further from the center of the galaxy, our planet wouldn’t have any of the heavy elements needed for life. I guess we’re “lucky” we live on a planet that orbits a star at just the right distance from the center of the galaxy.
• Even Earth’s location- 26,000 light years from the center- is not free from radiation from the rest of the galaxy. Only by virtue of the fact that our planet exists on the galactic plane between two spiral arms are we shielded from radiation. Furthermore, unlike most stars, our sun doesn’t “bounce” up and down on the galactic plane, so we won’t ever move above or below the spiral arms.
• In spite of what the picture above shows, the solar system is not within a spiral arm of the galaxy. We are actually between two spiral arms, which is fortunate for us since the stars and dense clouds of space emit more radiation and could unleash a severe dust storm, which would be sure to ruin our time on earth.
• Most of the time, anything lying between the spiral arms of the galaxy are eventually overtaken by another spiral arm. Our solar system lies very close to the co-rotation distance. At this distance, our solar system rotates around the center of the galaxy at almost exactly the same rate as the arms on either side. Fortunately for us, we aren’t exactly at the co-rotation distance. If we were, we would be buffeted by gravitational resonance and flung out of our sanctuary in the universe. Not a good experience!
• Of course, we’re also fortunate that the area of our galaxy that makes life possible also overlaps the co-rotation distance. I don’t think that’s a coincidence either!
• Most clusters of galaxies contain 10,000 or more closely-packed galaxies. Ours has only around forty. Little is a good thing, since galaxies tend to collide. We haven’t had a collision with another galaxy (something that can’t be said for our neighboring Andromeda Galaxy), and unlike most other galaxies, we don’t have any giant or supergiant galaxies for neighbors. If we did, we’d get blasted with deadly radiation fairly regularly.
• Our own galactic neighbors do help contribute to the stability of our galaxy. The Milky Way is fed gas and dust by a number of nearby dwarf galaxies. This gas and dust keeps star formation high, which helps reinforce the spiral arm structure. Without it, the spiral structure would collapse.
• If the earth had no moon (click link to hear Patrick Stewart [Jean-Luke Picard] narrate), our axis- and therefore our climate-  wouldn’t be stable. Our rotation would be faster, making weather patterns less even. You think global warming is bad! Tides wouldn’t exist, meaning that coastal toxins wouldn’t be removed and nutrients wouldn’t be brought in. Click here to check out a book on this subject.
• The four outer gas giants in our solar system- Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune- act as a defensive team to shield the earth from collisions with comets and asteroids, since their gravitational pull deflects or absorbs impacts. On the other hand, the other inner planets nearest to earth work to break up gravitational resonances from the gas giants to keep earth from changing orbit.

Truly the heavens declare the glory of God.

Next: A Room with a View!

Just turn me loose,
Let me straddle my old saddle
Underneath the western sky.
On my cayuse,
Let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountains rise.
I want to ride to the ridge
Where the west commences,
Gaze at the moon till I lose my senses,
Can’t look at hobbles and I can’t stand fences,
Don’t fence me in.

My grandparents and parents both listened to old cowboy songs when I was a kid, and while I didn’t really like most of them, this one really stuck out to me. It’s about not wanting boundaries, a concept I think most of us can appreciate. Of course, there are some boundaries that are good. We live our lives safely because of them. Unfortunately, some postmodern believers are of the opinion that fences aren’t very good for faith. In other words, some of those Bible teachings aren’t as big of a deal as we make them out to be.

Rob Bell makes it obvious that he’s of this persuasion in Velvet Elvis, where he makes the following assertion:

“What if tomorrow someone digs up definitive proof that Jesus had a real, earthly, biological father named Larry, and archeologists find Larry’s tomb and do DNA samples and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the virgin birth was really just a bit of mythologizing the Gospel writers threw in to appeal to the followers of the Mithra and Dionysian religious cults that were hugely popular at the time of Jesus, whose gods had virgin births? But what if, as you study the origin of the word ‘virgin’ you discover that the word ‘virgin’ in the gospel of Matthew actually comes from the book of Isaiah, and then you find out that in the Hebrew language at that time, the word ‘virgin’ could mean several things. And what if you discover that in the first century being ‘born of a virgin’ also referred to a child whose mother became pregnant the first time she had intercourse? What if that spring were seriously questioned? Could a person keep on jumping? Could a person still love God? Could you still be a Christian? Is the way of Jesus still the best possible way to live? Or does the whole thing fall apart?…If the whole faith falls apart when we reexamine and rethink one spring, then it wasn’t that strong in the first place, was it?”

While Bell also affirms that he does believe in the virgin birth, he makes it obvious that the virgin birth really isn’t essential to the Christian faith as far as he is concerned. Then there’s Tony Jones, who makes his position very clear. He’s the “theologian-in-residence” of Solomon’s Porch and an outspoken writer for the Emergent Church movement. In an interview with Relevant magazine, Tony said:

Statements of faith are about drawing borders, which means you have to load your weapons and place soldiers at those borders. you have to check people’s passports when they pass those borders. It becomes an obsession- guarding the borders….I don’t want to spend it [his life] guarding borders. I’d like to spend it inviting people into the kingdom. Statements of faith don’t do that.

In that same interview, Jones went on to say that he doesn’t see a reason why a lesbian pastor and a conservative couldn’t get along in the same church. I beg to differ, Tony.

Fences do more than create borders to defend. They protect from attack. God’s Truth and God’s people should be defended from attack. Christianity as a faith and Christians as individuals called to holy living don’t exist without fences. There’s another way of looking at this, though, and I wish Tony would take a step back to consider it. Perhaps it isn’t that Christians are choosing to fence themselves in as if they were in a zoo. Perhaps Christians are instead called to the wide world of orthodoxy (right faith) and orthopraxy (right practice.) The fences exist to separate the evil on small reserves outside of the wide world of the Christian faith. We are on the outside, and evil and error are fenced in.

God’s Truth as revealed in His Word must be revered and defended if necessary. Paul insisted that there was a difference between right belief and wrong belief, even if wrong belief is appealing, when he wrote Galatians 1:8: “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” He instructed pastors to be well-trained in Scripture so that they could defend the faith in Titus 1:9: “Holding fast the faithful word as he hath been taught, that he may be able by sound doctrine both to exhort and to convince the gainsayers.”

Christianity isn’t simply a way of life. It is a way of life that is founded on faith in the Truths of God’s Word. Anything that is precious and unique and special is worth protecting and preserving. As J. Gresham Machen wrote nearly a century ago:

When men talk thus about propogating Christianity without defending it, the thing that we are propagating is pretty sure not to be Christianity at all. They are propagating anti-intellectualistic, nondoctrinal Modernism; and the reason why it requires no defense is simply that it is so completely in accord with the current of the age.

If we don’t take our Christianity seriously and consider it worthy of protecting, maybe our faith isn’t really Christianity at all. The faith once delivered to the saints needs to be protected so that it doesn’t spoil, but it’s not about fencing it in. It’s about fencing evil  and error in so that we are truly free.

Many years ago, Thomas à Kempis made the observation that became the title of this post. Truth must exist in order for us to really know anything. If there is no such thing as absolute truth, if right and wrong don’t exist, we can’t really know anything. What exactly is knowledge? How do we know anything?

Some things are not prerequisites for knowledge. Absolute certainty isn’t. You don’t have to be completely confident in what you know in order to know it. Think of a person who is learning to ride a bike, or give a monologue in a speech class. They may not feel like they know it. They may not know how they know it. But, time and time again, a child learns to ride his bike, a freshman in college manages to pull off a speech.

Frankly, there aren’t many things in this life that you and I can say: “It’s impossible for me to be wrong on this.” We’re pretty much limited to math, some basic logical principles, and some experiences when it comes to having proof for things and being absolutely certain. In other words, we don’t have to remove all doubt and defeat all counter-arguments in order to say that we know something. Absolute certainty is a good thing, but it is not a necessary thing. Secondly, knowing “how you know” something is not a prerequisite for Knowledge, but I’ve already mentioned that in another post.

Now we turn to what knowledge is, and we discover that there are three different types of knowledge. At the most basic level, there is awareness. A baby is aware of feeling secure or perhaps a cat on a table, but she doesn’t necessarily have a true understanding of what security is or even what a cat is conceptually, nor does it have the linguistic skills to even explain how it feels or say the word “cat.” It can see and experience both without going any further. Some knowledge is this sort of “awareness” knowledge. It can be experienced and observed, but that may be all. Secondly you and I may have skills that are based on knowledge; we have know how. We can take our awareness and observation and do something with it to interact with reality. Finally, there is propositional knowledge. This sort of knowledge is believing something to be true because of reason and logic.

How can I know anything about Christianity to be true? I can be aware of truth even if I don’t know everything about that Truth with certainty, interact with truth, and – primarily- believe it because the Bible is replete with propositional knowledge that is both logical and reasonable.

Hosea 4:6 says: “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou shalt be no priest to me: seeing thou hast forgotten the law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.”

Notice that God doesn’t say that His people don’t have faith. He says that they have rejected the knowledge necessary to grow faith. Knowledge requires a combination of reason and experience to interpret reality, and Christians need to learn to be confident that the Bible explains reality very well. When we say “belief” these days, do we mean “I hope it’s true”? Do we think of “faith” as being inferior to “fact”? I hope this isn’t the case, because that’s not how Christians have behaved historically. In some cases, faith and fact are identical. This is what I mean when I say that there is a difference between faith and “blind” faith.

While I don’t agree with everything that Michael Green believes, his book Evangelism and the Early Church is quite interesting. It’s a short history of the first four centuries of Christianity and how early Christians evangelized the lost. One of the three factors that he states is one that is largely missing in today’s church: a persuasive theology. We have theology and we have persuasion of various sorts (evangelistic meetings and ministries, apologetics, etc.), but we don’t combine the two anymore. When is the last time you heard someone bother with theology in a salvation presentation?

Our emphasis today is very different. In every other area of knowledge, we exalt professors and professionals, but in Christianity we exalt the megachurch. These pastors- many of whom teach very little doctrine- are invited to interviews, write books, and produce “teaching” material, but they are simply not qualified because of their lack of doctrinal teaching and training to speak authoritatively on Christian matters. Popularity supersedes quality.

On the other hand, there are some who are adamantly against using reason and theology (apologetics) to make a case. How different we are from Justin Martyr who wrote in his First Apology this attempt to persuade Emperor Hadrian to convert:

Reason requires those who are truly pious and philosophers should honor and cherish the truth alone, scorning merely to follow the opinions of the ancients, if they are worthless. In these pages we do not come before you with flattery, or as if making a speech to win your favor, but asking you to give judgment according to strict and exact inquiry- not moved by prejudice or respect for superstitious men, or by irrational impulse.

That’s the kind of faith Christians need to have: Faith based on Reason. The Bible is a reasonable Book. Our worldview must be reasonable as well. Our interpretation of experience must be based on reason. It isn’t that I believe that man’s reason is the measure of all things. I simply believe that it’s time we realized that the knowledge of the Holy truly is understanding.

If that’s the case, what are the implications for us if we reject knowledge? Could it be that our nation and American Christianity are both on the path to destruction simply because we refuse to seek knowledge and a faith made firm by reason?

There are two basic questions in life that you and I have to answer:

1. What do I know?
2. What can I know?

When it comes to these two questions, the skeptic and the down-to-earth person with good, old-fashioned common sense are forever at odds. Skeptics believe that anyone who claims to know something to be true has to prove that he can’t be wrong. This is because- to the skeptic- there is no good solution to either question above. They believe that you and I can’t answer one question without knowing the other. If I try to explain how I know something, I also have to explain how I know that I can know it, and vice versa. Life must be very confusing to the skeptic, which is why most become methodists for all practical purposes. I don’t mean the Christian denomination of Methodists. I mean the philosophical sort of methodist. These methodists believe that you have to know what can be known before you can know that you know something. For example, methodists tend to believe that you can only know things if you can observe them with the five senses. (Naturalism, by the way, is a favored perspective for methodists.) Of course, limiting knowledge in this way assumes that you can know things using the five senses, and it requires you to have knowledge of the five senses first. That means they accidentally answered the first question first and have yet to tell us how they knew something without answering the second question. Now they’re confused and embarrassed!

Skeptics also have a strange belief that asking “How do you know?” repeatedly without offering a reason for being skeptical about something is the ultimate endgame for a debate. I’ve stopped answering simple “How do you know?” questions if there’s no argument that follows. They don’t have any substance to bring to the discussion at this point, since they can’t explain how they don’t know!

Skeptics can also try to force a person into becoming a methodist by asking that some “How do you know?” question. They try to get their opponent to answer that second question first. The problem here is that you can know some things without having to necessarily explain how you know it. We teach children many things without explaining how we know they are true. Skeptics don’t see life that way. They would rather avoid error than embrace truth. If there’s a chance you might be wrong, you might as well not believe it. To their mind, the skeptic must be refuted (proved wrong) before they will accept something as knowledge

I prefer using plain old common sense. For those who believe in common sense, there are some very specific things that are simply true whether I know how I know them or not. I know many things- that I ate sushi just before typing this, that I am using a laptop, that 2 + 3 = 5, that kindness is a good character quality, and so forth- without wondering how I knew them or if I really knew them. Are the five senses being used in these cases? Yes, but the five senses are only partially helpful in establish what sushi (especially the sort that isn’t labeled) and laptops are, whether or not numbers are concrete or abstract, or who is kind. My point is that in all of these cases I never answered the second question (mentioned above) first. I simply know them and experience them without “proving” that I can know them. In the end, common sense will help me in establishing “what I can know” built on the platform of “what I already know.”

This isn’t just a philosophical argument with no bearing on the world of matter and energy. What I’m saying has far-reaching implications and illustrations to even the world of science. Scientists must sometimes observe what IS happening without knowing how they know it happens or why it happens. Take, for instance, the discovery of superconductivity by Heike Kamerlingh Onnes, a Dutch physicist. While he was the one who discovered superconductivity in 1911 and awarded a Nobel Prize for it in 1913, it would be another 50 years before quantum physics would begin to explain why and how this occured. Even science does not completely avoid knowing something before proving something.

For the person who practices common sense, the possibility of being wrong is not the same thing as being wrong. Fear of being wrong isn’t a motivating force, and the possibility of being wrong isn’t a good enough reason to label something as “unknowable.” People with common sense are more focused on finding Truth than avoiding anything that can’t be known 100%. The person with common sense doesn’t have to refute a skeptic; he just needs to demonstrate that the skeptic hasn’t proved that his skepticism is true.

In short, I’d rather know what I know and build on from there (common sense) than assume that I don’t know anything (skepticism) and not be able to prove it.

Once a people group accepts naturalism as true, they must begin to accept postmodernism as a natural corollary. Postmodernism is a way of looking at the world in which pluralism and tolerance (or at least a contemporary definition of tolerance) reign supreme. In other words, your beliefs about religion and politics are opinions that are no more legitimate than anyone else’s. Every basis for decision is equally valid. To the postmodern mindset, feelings and rhetoric are just as important as reason and substance. This is because there is no true “right” in a naturalistic, postmodern worldview. If feeling is what is most important to you, then feeling trumps substance every day. There are no absolutes, so you get to set the standard. How someone appears on Youtube or Saturday Night Live is more important than whether or not a person is right. Here’s an example: After the third debate between George W. Bush and Al Gore, ABC’s This Week aired a discussion between Sam Donaldson and Cokie Roberts in which Mrs. Roberts said: “Sam, it is too early to tell who won. We’ll have to wait until David Letterman and Jay Leno have their comedic say tonight.”

Since naturalism has limited knowledge to only the sciences, religion and politics are unknowable. Who is right and what is right might as well be determined by late night comedy or satire. After all, who is to say a comedian’s way of looking at things is any more or less legitimate than a politician, journalist, businessman, or pastor? The public square, where ideas and perspective from across society come together (government schools and universities, courtrooms, politics, and some forms of media), are now about power instead of authority. We are no longer concerned with who and what should be believed; the basis for belief is no longer knowledge and experience. Control and rights are all that matters. Political correctness is, after all, about power, not truth.

I’ll close with an illustration from the first sixty pages of Edmund Husserl’s The Crisis of European Sciences. Husserl sought to explain how an educated nation such as Germany could fall prey to such powerful dictators and play such a terrible role in World War I. In Husserl’s view, the main culprit was a naturalistic worldview. To the educated German mind, values, religion, purpose, and the proper role of government were areas of knowledge that simply didn’t matter. They weren’t the empirical facts of math and science. There was no objective knowledge to be had, and so society had no real answers to offer concerning such areas. Husserl notes that this resulted in the privatization of moral and theological issues. When this occurred, there was no foundational knowledge that could be raised against manipulative leaders. Who was to say that a dictator was immoral? Where was it written that a government ought to behave only in certain ways? Naturalism and postmodernism had paved through the first World War, and, ironically, Husserl only had to wait a few more years until it did the same thing under Nazism!

America, and indeed the entire West, is headed down this very same dark road. It’s only a matter of time before another Hitler with a “will to power” shows up to lead us to wreck and ruin. Maybe he’s already here.

J. P. Moreland lists five questions that all worldviews must answer:

1. What is real?
2. What are the nature and limits of knowledge?
3. What is the good life?
4. Who is a really good person?
5. How does one become a really good person?

Now I know these are not the usual questions a person asks about a worldview. Usually it’s all about origin and functioning of the physical world, but that’s not all there is to reality. There must be things that are accounted for that extend beyond matter and energy.

In naturalism, the physical world is the only reality. Knowledge is merely an understanding of that physical world through the sciences. The good life is whatever you choose for yourself, a good person consists of bettering yourself according to your own definition of “bettering”, and there’s no real advice to be offered in bettering yourself because everything is ultimately worthless and empty. We only have to wait for death of life on this rock orbiting our home star, and the universe will ultimately suffer heat death.

What kind of life is that? You might feel more like a stoic if you bravely faced the dark night of being utterly meaningless, but I really think that naturalism fails to deliver anything and is more of a cop out. Naturalism is a shallow worldview, incapable of offering satisfying answers. As Moreland says, Jesus Christ is the only game in town.

I’ve briefly discussed naturalism’s inability to account for free will and inherent value, but now I want to turn to naturalism’s inability to account for the existence of evil. In fact, I want to go so far as to assert that naturalism cannot even identify what evil is or how it came to be, much less give a solution for the problem of evil. Understand that I’m not just referring to evil as a moral category. I’m also referring to natural evil- disasters and tragedy-as well.

There are a few people out there who believe that evil doesn’t exist, that it’s all in our heads. These are the sort of people who believe that morality is just what is for the good of society (hopefully not Hussein’s Iraq) or the good of the individual (hopefully not Charles Manson or Jeffrey Dahmer.) I think we can all see that there is such a thing as evil. There are people who do evil things, and there are tragedies that simply occurs. To the naturalist, evil is simply a man-made category, and evil cannot exist as a part of our reality. We are all just moralized atoms living in our own make-believe moralized world. This is because things cannot be naturally or morally evil unless there is such a thing as how things ought to be. There must be a standard to live by. My friend Josh can’t see all the colors of the rainbow properly, but neither can a jar of mayonnaise. Nobody is concerned about the mayonnaise’s inability to see, and, frankly, I think we’d all be disturbed if we discovered that mayo could see!

The point behind my silly illustration is that only in one case would anyone- possibly my friend’s wife- say that things aren’t the way they are supposed to be. There is a sense of “ought to” in our world that can’t be avoided. People ought to see color. Rocks ought to fall when I drop them. Mayo ought to sit in a jar until I’m making a sandwich. I ought to pay my taxes. I ought not to murder. People ought not to run over babies. C. S. Lewis was quick to point out that there is a difference between a “want to do this”, a “this is right to do”, and a third voice that says “I ought to do what is right.”

Only in a “Big Mac” universe can good and evil truly exist. Naturalism can only describe how things “normally” work when it comes to the natural world, and it is incapable of explaining how evil exists. It has no sense of where evil came from, and, as John Lennox points out, there is no ultimate justice for evil people. In the end, people like the 9/11 terrorists have gotten away with it. In stark contrast, the Christian worldview freely explains the origin, nature, and end of evil. Satan tempted the first Parents who ushered in natural and moral evil for ages to come. This is “my Father’s world”, but this isn’t the world as my Father intended it. We are told the results of our moral evil apart from God, and redemption is offered by coming to God. Evil will be punished, and the partakers with Christ will be rewarded.

Evil may be an enigma in the naturalistic worldview, but Christianity is quite adept at unmasking the mystery of iniquity.

In a previous post I had briefly pointed out a few flaws with a naturalistic worldview. It fails to explain the humanity behind being human. Free will, appreciation for beauty, and reason aren’t well-explained in terms of natural causes. Another difficulty with a naturalistic worldview is the devaluing of existence. If our lives are to have objective meaning, there must be some things that are good, right, and beautiful. Those things must be ends in and of themselves, and they must be worth pursuing. There must be people and ideals that are worth living and dying for.

Of course, we must also believe that we can know what is good, right, and beautiful. This also means that we can know what is wrong, evil, and marred somehow. The means of knowing is unsavory to the naturalist. The existence of value and the standard of value are seemingly abstract and not a part of the physical world, which of course blows the naturalistic agenda to bits. Therefore, things and people of value are flatly denied, or the value of everything and anything is readily affirmed. The problem, then, is that if everything has value we still have no basis for evaluating worth in an objective sense. I say that hard work and honesty make a person valuable, but what if you value deceit and slothfulness? Are those character traits truly valuable to individuals or societies? I dare say not! No, the naturalist would rather blithely put that all things lack intrinsic value. It is much easier to say “vanity, vanity, all is vanity” and leave it at that. That’s the sort of world Bertrand Russell believes in.

You are no more valuable than a cockroach or a star or an atom in a naturalistic world. Fortunately we know that reality is far different than the naturalist portrays it. Some things are beautiful, and some are not. Some things are valuable, and others are worthless. Some things are moral, and others are horribly immoral. The naturalistic world required to allow Darwinism to exist as a plausible theory simply cannot be.