Why I believe in God: Evolution vs. creation

I recently finished watching the debate between Bill Nye and Ken Ham regarding the logical soundness of the creation model vs. the evolution model.  It gave me an opportunity to think about how I really feel regarding science and religion (although I have done so many times in the past), and this time I felt that I could share a few ideas I have relating to the subject of the existence of a higher power.  I will first describe how I believe that the existence of a higher power is not only possible but plausible, and then I will discuss why I personally believe in a supreme being.

Why God is "allowed" to exist

Evolution vs. creation:  How did life and matter come into being?

I don't want to spend too much time discussing the Nye vs. Ham debate (if you're interested, here it is).  There were several subjects, however, that Ham had a difficult time reconciling with Nye's points, and Nye requested elaboration on several topics multiple times that Ham never provided.  I feel that a lot of Ham's difficulty in the discussion came from the fact that he posits a literal interpretation of the Genesis text.  Ham, and all of the creationist scientists he cites, believes that the events of the creation took place in six 24-hour periods and that the earth, as well as the universe, does not far exceed an age of 6,000 years.  Much of Nye's evidence was pretty glaring in its challenge to the credulity of Ham's claims.

Having been raised a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons), I admit that a good portion of my thought process during the debate was what it would have been like for Ham if he had approached the issue from the perspective of Mormon theology.  I am not implying that a debate between Bill Nye and a Mormon would be devoid of intellectual inconsistency on the part of LDS theology, but several specifically LDS teachings regarding the creation are, in my opinion, more in agreement with scientific evidence than those of mainstream Christianity (at least as set forth by Ham).

I don't consider myself an expert on Mormon theology, and much of what I say may be merely my own interpretation of LDS doctrine.  Take it with a grain of salt.  But here are some ideas I find plausible (meaning I am not presenting them as fact), some only loosely based on LDS theology, that may explain some of the events behind the creation:

1. God has created "worlds without number" (Moses 1:33), and they were not necessarily all created at the same time; in fact, they probably were not.  Thousands of planets could have been created before our world ever even began.
2. The six periods of time during which God created the earth are symbolically given the appellation of "days", and do not refer to 24-hour periods of time.  Thus, the creation could theoretically have taken thousands, millions, or billions of years by our time standards.
3. Adam and Eve were the first two human beings to inhabit the planet, but they may not have been the only two human or human-like beings on the earth by the time the Fall occurred and they were cast from the garden.  We don't know how long Adam and Eve were in the garden, and I find it reasonable that if the garden was separated from the rest of the world in the spiritual sense, it could plausibly be sequestered in an evolutionary biological sense.  The process of evolution of various life forms could have happened exactly as modern science describes it, including the evolution of primates to humans or human-like beings, while Adam and Eve remained in the garden.  (If this is the case, I don't have an opinion about how long any pre-Adamic human races remained, or if they intermixed with Adam and Eve's posterity.  I haven't really been exposed to enough evidence to formulate an opinion about either of these ideas.)

I don't pretend that these ideas reconcile all the difficulties between the evolution model and the creation model.  For example, I don't know how to reconcile the Biblical or LDS teachings regarding Noah's flood with several pieces of evidence Bill Nye mentioned during the debate, though I do not feel that there is no explanation.  But what I've learned about the factual process of evolution has not disturbed my perception of how the creation could have happened.  As far as the Big Bang and the creation of the universe in general, I am not enough a student of physics or astronomy to know much of the theory behind this, but I do find it plausible that the Big Bang or something like it could have been wrought by a supreme creator as well.

Prison break

Since mid-summer of 2013, I have been watching a show that aired from 2005-2008 known as "Prison Break".  Many of you may be familiar with it, and although I am not a TV watcher (even watching shows I enjoy only sporadically), Prison Break has been very entertaining for me.  The main appeal of the show for me is the protagonist, Michael Scofield, who is an extremely intelligent structural engineer who uses his talents to break his wrongfully convicted brother out of prison.  It soon evolves into much more than that, of course, but I enjoy the show because the characters use creative and intelligent ways to get out of difficult situations.  From this and other creative works I have read/watched, I have come to the conclusion that many of the works I enjoy the most share this same quality:  the characters prosper because of their intelligence.

But I'm getting besides the point.  The reason I wanted to write about this is to gather and possibly share my thoughts about some of the themes and ideas that Prison Break presents.  Prison Break does contain more mature themes and ideas, which is why I'm glad I watched it after my mission rather than before, because I am able to deal with and respond to them in a mature way.  Many of the minor events along the course of the story have been disturbing for me, but what troubles me more is the general themes of what the show seems to teach, although it's almost never explicitly shown.  I don't know if the producers/creators were attempting to send these messages through the show, but here is some of what I feel Prison Break is attempting to "teach":

1.  There is no way to absolutely know the truth about anything.

Later in the show, we become aware of a corrupt governmental entity known as "The Company", who has infiltrated essentially every aspect of society in a very realistic, believable way (the realism, I believe, is what makes the messages more powerful).  We find that the protagonist's brother, Lincoln Burrows, was convicted off of doctored evidence that was fabricated so meticulously by the Company that upon escaping prison, the brothers are completely unable to prove that Lincoln is innocent of any crime, even after finding that the man who Lincoln is purported to have killed is still alive.

The point the show seems to make is this:  in this day and age, information can be technologically corrupted to the point that nothing is reliable anymore.  Everything from the surveillance camera feed to the DNA information of the supposed murder victim was altered irreversibly by the Company and could not be accessed in its original form anymore.  Because of the realistic nature of the plotline, I have admittedly been affected by this idea.  For instance, in the political sphere (which I have a hard time with anyway), I have a hard time deciding who to vote for in part because I have no way of knowing whether a given party, candidate, or group has gone to a great deal of effort to make themselves appear outstanding and create "evidence" and "statistics" to go along with it, when in fact they do not intend to support the interests they claim.  This idea has far less power in the religious context for me, however, because I believe there are alternate methods of finding truth than any form of person-to-person communication.

2.  You can't trust anyone but yourself.

Throughout the show, but especially in the last season, the main characters find people they think they can trust, and are betrayed again and again.  Those they trust end up either getting killed, turning out to be from the Company, or decide to act for their own interests and not for those of the group.  This idea is a social embodiment of the first idea I described.  Just as any form of information can be altered, all semblances of personality can also be fabricated with a sufficient amount of skill.  Several Company agents construct extremely believable representations of innocent and benign citizens, only to instantaneously shed the facade as soon as they are able.

I feel that this point is somewhat overexaggerated in Prison Break.  Part of this, of course, is the fact that not everyone is trying to dismantle a multi-national group that has power over several world governments, so obviously they would not be endlessly tailed by extremely skilled individuals who were out to get them.  But even if the show doesn't convince you to become paranoid schizophrenic, it's hard to look at people the same way after you see something like that.  I don't dwell on the issue too long, but I can see this show causing a lot of other people to reconsider the integrity of the people they know well.  Maybe in some cases that's a good thing, but I feel that in most cases people are pretty close to who they appear to be, and the differences that do exist aren't going to be harmful for the people they know.

3.  Evil and corruption are ultimately inescapable and undefeatable.

The Company is extremely powerful.  Michael and his friends must work tirelessly and use all of their resources in their efforts to bring down the Company, and even then it doesn't seem like enough.  Every obstacle they overcome is met by another, still greater, one in its place, and throughout the show there is the lingering idea that even if they end up bringing down the Company, who's to say something like it won't just spring up into existence immediately afterwards?

I have to say at this point that I haven't finished the show, so I don't know if Michael and the others end up bringing down the Company or not.  They do get out of countless amounts of tight situations, which of course is important to the suspense quality of the show, but each time they seem to get a little closer into falling into the hands of the Company.  Even if they end up successful in their attempts by the time the show ends, I still think this message is continuously communicated to Prison Break viewers.  Those who invest a lot of time into thinking about this show might begin to wonder if they or anyone can ever overcome evil, chaos, corruption, or anything like it.  It's certainly because of my religious beliefs, but I know that this idea is just not true.

4.  Given sufficient motivation, every good person can always be corrupted.

This has a lot to do with point #2 I made, although the majority of the people who betray the protagonists are found to have been dishonest all along.  But in the last season, when the protagonists are trying to acquire necessary intel to bring down the company. several people working with them begin to want it for its monetary value, and several others get into positions where they must choose between fighting the Company and protecting those they love.  I do agree that money is one of the most universally corrupting forces known to mankind, and I feel that few people are free of that risk.  But I also believe that nobody is without help, as long as they desire to do good.  The success of the show, of course, is largely dependent upon a lack of religious material in order to appeal to a wider range of people.  God can help any man to overcome a temptation that would otherwise destroy him, if his desire is truly to avoid what corrupts.


These ideas have changed my perspective to some extent from watching the show, and I recognize that not all of that is good.  There have been several times when I seriously considered continuing to watch the show because of how it was affecting me, but I've found it pretty addictive (which is why I am extremely hesitant anytime someone tells me about a long-running TV show, even if it's not like this because I don't want to have to invest a lot of time into it if I get hooked).  I'm pretty close to being done with the series, and probably will finish it.  But I wanted to write this because I feel like collecting my thoughts will help me deal with these issues better.  I think the best thing for me is to remember that it's not real (despite how realistically it's depicted), and these ideas are just coming from people who are trying to express something that may be right or wrong.

Creation

This is a departure from the series of posts I began a couple weeks ago.

Creativity is something that hasn't ever seemed like part of my personality.  And for the most part, I've never had a problem with that.  I get plenty of pleasure out of simply experiencing the creative works of others.  And, since I am fairly proficient in music, I do enjoy performing creative works using the instruments I am familiar with.  The way I see it, creativity is a win-win situation.  Those who create and those who experience both benefit.  For most of my life, I have been content to sit back and let other people be creative.

But for the past few months, I've started feeling a desire to create things.  I've had several opportunities recently to develop my talent of singing, and some of my friends are attempting to form an a cappella group.  I'd like to try writing some things that we could perform together.  They probably wouldn't be very complex; mostly just some hymn arrangements.  I have an idea of something I could use to write an original piece, but I won't elaborate on that until I have a better idea of what form that's even going to take.  I'm definitely going to start small if I'm going to try creating anything.

Not that I haven't created anything before.  I mean, I've written my fair share of book reports, essays, and (to use an example that wasn't mandated by education) blog posts.  But in most of those cases, I felt more like I was transcribing something that was already there into a visible form.  Especially with the blog posts.  The vast majority of them (including this one) are about topics that have come into my mind lately, or things that have happened in my life, and I just put my thoughts and experiences on paper (or online).  I rarely feel like it was something that I just brought into existence.  But that's exactly how Dieter F. Uchtdorf describes creation:

"Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before."

It's talks like these that open my eyes to the concept that God wants us to create.  And I've been aware of that for a while, but lately I've been feeling like now is the time for me to start really trying to create something.  Specifically, a musical something.

But here's the deal.  I've casually thought about that several isolated times in the past, and every time, I have this general feeling that almost everything musical that can be created has been created.  And I know that Boyd K. Packer said that there is still plenty of good music that remains to be written.  But even if I was to create something new, would it sound so much like an existing song that it wouldn't really even be worth it?

And here's another deal.  Uchtdorf says that creation is bringing something new into existence, but he also teaches that crucial to creation is relying on and trusting in the Spirit.  And I wouldn't be surprised if every work of creation was directly or indirectly influenced by the Spirit, even in a small way.  But if I rely totally and completely rely on the Spirit for any work of creation that I do (which I don't think is a problem), can I really justify calling it creation anymore?  Or, at least, can I call it mine?

I do believe that the act of creation consists largely of the ability to transform an idea that's already there into another form.  And maybe that's all it is.  After all, the creation of the universe by God was not bringing matter into existence that didn't exist before.  It was the organization of already-existing matter into a usable form.  I don't really know where the ideas for creation come from, and I don't know if I will ever know, or if anybody will ever know.  I don't know if there's a single hypothetical "source of creativity" that simply manifests itself in different forms, or if every conscious mind is (or can be) a source of creativity in itself.  But I think before I get to the point where I feel like I can create, I'm going to have to uncover more of that mystery.

Capturing meaning with isomorphisms

One of the main themes of Godel, Escher, Bach (GEB) is the process of transmitting meaning through different forms.  This is one of the reasons formal systems were created; to structurally organize interpreted meaning into a usable form.  Mathematics itself can be thought of as a huge collection of formal systems, some of which are meant to express abstract principles (pure mathematics), and some that are tools that assist us with making calculations of real-world situations (applied mathematics).  Hofstadter includes a formal system of his own making that operates the same way as addition, though he uses different symbols.

The existence of isomorphisms is necessary to the creation of a formal system, or at least one that is meant to have an interpretation or application in the real world.  Hofstadter defines isomorphisms as information-preserving transformations.  I like to think of them as almost a sort of transportation device that moves information from one form to another.

Isomorphisms are almost constantly present in our lives without our conscious realization of them.  All of our five senses can be thought of as isomorphisms.  The eyes receive the input of visible light, then transduce the electromagnetic radiation into neural signals to be sent to the brain.  The ears transform vibrations in the air into our experience of sound.  The nose and tongue use different mechanisms to receive the properties and configuration of various chemicals, then preserve that information in the form of a neural network of signals.  And sensory receptors throughout our bodies receive pressure and heat stimuli, which they use to communicate to the brain what is happening in the outside world.

Beyond that, we use isomorphisms as tools to accomplish innumerable tasks.  As you read these words, the cognitive networks in your brain are converting the otherwise meaningless figures known as letters into the experience of understanding concepts real and abstract.  You may be listening to a CD, whose microscopic convoluted substructure is being read by an audio player and transformed into the sonic vibrations of a speaker unit, which in turn is being translated by the brain into the physical and emotional perception of music.  And ever since the day you were conceived, an army of RNA polymerase and ribosomes has grown and multiplied and worked tirelessly to translate DNA into RNA and then into protein to build the complete, complex, complicated biological organism that houses your consciousness (since the part of you that matters wasn't made by any simple nucleic acid or enzyme).  Isomorphisms are inescapable.

The above picture, Liberation by artist M.C. Escher, illustrates a transformation of one form to another.  The title suggests that it's meant to be viewed from bottom to top, as if the birds above are being freed from their restrictive form below.  But what if we made a slight alteration to this work?  If we renamed it Capture, would it be interpreted differently?  From freedom to bondage?

Capture is exactly what much of modern applied science has done and will do until everything is known.  The natural phenomena that became interpreted as Newton's laws of motion, Le Chatelier's principle of dynamic equilibrium, the laws of thermodynamics, the central dogma of molecular biology, Kepler's conjectures of planetary motion, Kubler-Ross's five stages of grief, the Darwinian perspective of evolution, and thousands more were all "captured" to some extent from their free position in the universe to the human's world of pen and paper.  But how well were they captured?  How much information was accurately preserved?  Looking back at Escher's Liberation, how far down can you go before the birds aren't really birds anymore?

In reality, the workings of the universe are so much bigger than any theorem, conjecture, or law that we try to use for capture.  It's going to be a long time before we understand everything; much less express or use that knowledge intelligently.  Few isomorphisms are perfect.  Information is almost always lost in translation.  But even if the birds are more beautiful than the triangular prisons we hold them in, the snares allow us to use the rigidity of form while retaining our appreciation for the unlimited.

Formal systems

I'm afraid that, at least for these first few posts, it's going to sound a lot like a summary of a chapter of Godel, Escher, Bach (GEB).  Hopefully my essay isn't like that.

Hofstadter begins the book with a puzzle of his own invention, which I will reproduce here.  The MU-puzzle includes three and only three letters:  M, I, and U.  Groups of these three letters are referred to in the system as "strings" (which include MIU, IMMUMMU, MIUIUIUIU, and such).  The puzzle consists of beginning with a given string, MI, and trying to produce the string "MU" within the limits of the following rules:

1.  If the string's last letter is "I", you can add a "U" to the end.
2.  You can produce a new string by duplicating everything after the "M".  For example, MI can become MII, MUIUI can become MUIUIUIUI, MUU can become MUUUU, etc.
3.  You can replace "III" with a "U" at any point in the string if you wish.
4.  If you have a "UU" anywhere in the string, you can delete it (the "UU", not the string).

If you're a total nerd like I am, you might actually find some enjoyment in trying to produce the string "MU".  I didn't, but Hofstadter explains in GEB that he doesn't mean for the puzzle to be solved (although he says the solution is later in the book).  Solving the puzzle itself gives you experience with some of the workings of formal systems.

Hofstadter refers to given strings like "MI" as axioms, statements that you must assume to begin with since they cannot be proven.  Strings produced from the axiom are called theorems, since they are provable on the basis of the axiom and the given rules.

The reason that formal systems are such a frequently-used tool of GEB is because humans and computers treat them so differently.  I played with the MU-puzzle for maybe five to ten minutes before giving up.  I don't know if there really is an answer, or if the author will present some "cheater" solution later in the book.  But if it is truly impossible to produce "MU", a computer would continue attempting the theorem indefinitely, whereas a human would, eventually, give up.

In Hofstadter's words, jumping out of the system is a skill that seems almost wholly unique to humans.  Humans "jump out of the system" by giving up on a task, postponing a task, trying to change the rules, etc.  And jumping out of the system isn't always bad; in fact, exiting a system is many times an intelligent move.  Computers inherently have a problem with exiting systems because staying in the system is usually what they are programmed to do.

Hofstadter then uses the three letters of the MIU-system to describe three different ways to approach a task or a system:

-Mechanical mode (M-mode), in which the task is carried out systematically much like a computer would do,
-Intelligent mode (I-mode), in which the subject learns how to use the rules and creates new ways of solving the task, much like a human would do, and
-Un-mode (U-mode), which Hofstadter doesn't describe at this point, but I assume involves jumping out of the system or changing the rules, thereby altering the internal system you began with.

Bored yet?

Godel, Escher, Bach

Well, I'm back.  I decided to resurrect this blog because of something I'm starting to work on in college.  I'm involved in the honors program at my school, and part of the program is completing what's called a great questions essay.  I'm mainly using this blog right now to have a place to gather and organize my thoughts.  I want to have a better idea of exactly how I want to approach this, and writing about it helps.  I don't think much of this will appeal to a wide range of people, and I don't know how much I expect it to be read.  Frankly, I think a lot of people will find it boring.  However, it would be helpful for me to have this as a sounding board where others could give me ideas or opinions I can use, but I guess we'll see how well that pans out.

The essay I'm going to write will be based largely on a few themes from the book "Godel, Escher, Bach" by Douglas Hofstader.  I was introduced to this work while reading a spinoff of Harry Potter called "Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality".  And yes, it is at least as geeky as the title implies.  I like it because I'm a science nerd and so is the pseudo-Harry in the story.  Anyway, the story references "Godel, Escher, Bach" (hereafter referred to as GEB) several times.  Some time after starting to read this, I was looking at some things I could do to complete other requirements of the honors program, and reading GEB was one of them.  I thought I would give it a try.

It's a tough book.  It's tough no matter who you are.  One distinguishing feature of GEB is just how familiar the author is with many academic disciplines.  His main background, as evident from the book, is mathematics, computer science, physics, and philosophy; but he is also quite adeptly acquainted with life sciences, music, literature, art, and even Zen.  I especially enjoy how much effort Hofstadter puts in to "dumbing down" the subject at first just enough for me to understand it.  It makes it an interesting read for me because it's a challenge, as if the author is daring me to intellectually keep up and try to understand what he's explaining.  What impressed me the most is how smoothly he incorporates all these areas of study to describe one of the overarching themes of the book:  consciousness.  He often explores this through the question:  "Can a machine be programmed to think, act, or operate the way humans do?"

This is the great question I plan to address in my essay.  Because GEB covers this topic so thoroughly, most of my posts here are going to be a sort of commentary about principles Hofstadter discusses in the book.  However, I may later depart from those more often, since I plan in my essay to address the theological perspective of the issue, which Hofstadter never touches.  To those reading this post, I would recommend trying to read a couple posts if you're interested, and if you're still bored after that, give up.  I don't want to waste anyone's time with this blog if what I discuss isn't what you're interested in.  But if it does appeal to you, it would be helpful to have additional feedback.  So here goes.

Goodbye

Today (when I wrote this) is my nineteenth birthday. Or, was. I had a spectacular day, filled with spending time with friends, making and eating my birthday Jell-o cake (chocolate cake with cherry-flavored Jell-o, the best kind), finishing the last of my "Movies to watch before I leave" list, and watching my favorite movie, the Lion King (Yep, it's not just my favorite Disney movie anymore. I finally caved in and decided it should hold that place. It deserves it. Mostly because of how special it became for me in college...and the epic music by Hans Zimmer. The music wins EVERYTHING.), as a sort of final hurrah to the life I used to lead. And I don't regret it. I'm going on to what I truly hope and believe will be one of the best and most fulfilling times of my life. Which, for those who don't know--if there are any--will be serving as a full-time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, commonly known as the LDS or Mormon church, in the Alabama Birmingham mission speaking English for a period of 24 months beginning Wednesday, July 14th. Tomorrow. Aagh. And, for those who don't know what I'm about to tell you (which is probably a significantly larger number than before), here is why.

First, I feel that I should serve a mission. The leaders of my church have strongly encouraged all young men of my age and worthiness to do so, and I am no exception. But that alone would not be reason enough to embark on a two-year journey such as this. I feel duty bound to do this because I know that my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came to this earth to suffer for our sins and die for us so that we could be saved from sin ourselves. I know that He was resurrected so that we, too, could partake of the boundless glory that comes with the reuniting of body and spirit after death. I know that He gave everything He had and everything He was in the garden of Gethsemane to truly take upon Himself the pains and sorrows of all men. The fact that my Brother gave more than I could ever comprehend compels me to serve Him in an attempt to repay what He has done for me and for everyone. I know that He led a church when he was physically on the earth. I know that church and the fullness of the gospel left the earth for a period of time we call the Apostasy, due to the loss of authority and true doctrine carried on by his apostles that, because it was not passed on to another, was withdrawn for a time with their deaths. I know that, after this apostasy, the gospel in its entirety was restored through the prophet Joseph Smith. I know that this is His same church that existed on the earth when He walked among men, for it bears his name: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. That is one way I am trying to repay him: by serving a full-time mission for His church in an effort to bring souls to Him.

Second, I want to. The knowledge of God's love and devotion to His children gives me a desire to develop that same love for them and for His gospel, and I know that a mission is a great way to do that. I know that a mission is a great way to develop skills, traits, and general growth that will be immensely beneficial in all aspects of my life. I know that it will make me a better person if I let it. But most of all, I want to do this because I love Him. I love His teachings and His gospel. I love that he restored the fullness of the gospel and brought forth the Book of Mormon (which I also love) to testify of his Son, Jesus Christ (whom I also love), in our day and to tell of the wonderful blessings we can receive if we are repentant and keep the commandments. I love that I was born and raised in the gospel in a country where I am free to live it to the fullest extent. I love all that the Lord has taught me and I continually hunger and thirst for more of His glorious gospel. And when you love something that much, you can't just keep it to yourself. You have to tell it to the world (or, in my case, Birmingham, Alabama).

Finally, I need to. I know it's not technically commanded of us specifically to serve a full-time mission, but according to D&C 88:81-82, we are commanded to share the gospel with others if we have received it for ourselves. I just think that this is the best way for me to fulfill this commandment at this time. Sure, I've sacrificed a lot of money paying for my clothes and luggage and other necessities, and I'm sure I will sacrifice my time, sanity, and more when I'm in Alabama. But I know I'll receive great blessings for it. And, if nothing else, it's nothing compared to what Jesus Christ sacrificed for us. Everything I give will just be a drop in the pond compared to the flood of mercy He has covered us with. And sacrifice isn't really losing something, anyway. It's giving up something good for something better. And I have full confidence that, even though I'm saying goodbye for two years to something good, at 12:45 on Wednesday, July 14th, I'll be starting into something better.

And I'm not looking back.

Actually, that's not entirely true. That was just my cheesy, storybook ending to all this. I'll still keep in touch and write letters and stuff.

But, you know.