Articles - God

I am reflecting on autumn. The corn is turning brown in the fields. The pumpkins have turned bright orange. The leaves on the trees are changing into their autumn dress. In an 1856 four volume set, Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons, rich in apologetics, Henry Duncan showed the value of natural theology through his marvelous study—more than 1500 pages—of how the four seasons are “a beautiful and striking exhibition of the power, wisdom, and goodness of the Creator” (Winter iii). Although it is dated more than 150 years ago, Duncan’s work is unique.

   The Russian novelist and essayist Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881) had a plan that entailed the completion of a literary cycle titled, The Life of a Great Sinner. The plan was to involve a goal of addressing the existence of God, which he once called “the problem that has consciously and unconsciously tormented me all my life” (Great Books of the Western World, vol. 52, vi). The literary cycle was not finished, but what the great writer did complete, just prior to his death, was a masterpiece recognized by many literary scholars as one of the major achievements in world literature titled The Brothers Karamazov. First published as a serial (1879-80), it was then published in a full edition in 1880.

   There is a story of a twelve-year-old boy who wrote the Library of Congress requesting two books. He wanted one book on space travel, and another on sane living. The boy concluded his letter by saying, “If you can’t send both books, send the one on space travel ‘cause I’m more interested in that.”

   Most of us would agree that it seems normal for a twelve-year-old boy to be “more interested” in space travel than in a topic like “sane living.” However, surely we should also recognize it to be the case that when many U. S. mental health groups are describing what they call

   In the introduction to a 2014 speech delivered on “Civic Education,” the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia said:

Washington is my favorite of the Founders—the one I would most have liked to meet. Not just because he was the indispensable man—the man without whom the American Revolution would not have succeeded. But also because he is a puzzlement. He was not a great intellect; indeed, he was quite sensitive about his lack of formal education. (He was not even, to tell the truth, that skilled a military tactician as The New York campaign demonstrated.) And he was surrounded by great intellects, who produced great writings—Hamilton, Madison, and Jefferson, to name the most prominent. Washington himself wrote not much of note, beyond his famous First Thanksgiving Proclamation and his Farewell Address. . . .  Yet all those well-published, intellectual geniuses looked up to, deferred to, stood in awe of George Washington. What was there about the man that produced that result?

   It must have been character. Washington was a man of honor, of constancy, or steady determination. A man who could be believed, trusted, counted on. (64-65)

As a puppy, he was given the name “Bud.” At age seven, when he came to live with us, I called him “Buddy”—my Buddy. He was a handsome pure-bred yellow Labrador Retriever; an American Lab, which tends to be taller than an English Lab. Buddy was large, gracing nearly thirty inches according to how they measure the height of these animals. He weighed 105 pounds. He was not overweight. His name fit him well—“Mr. Bud”—beautiful, gentle, obedient, happy, lovable, affectionate, and loyal. Oh, how loyal he was!

George Cansdale (1909-1993) was a prominent British zoologist and Superintendent of the London Zoo. He traveled widely and spoke extensively concerning his field of expertise. All the while he maintained an allegiance to the biblical worldview. His presentations on the animal world captured the attention of children and adults. He authored a book titled All the Animals of the Bible (Zondervan 1970). In the book’s Foreword, written by the late John Stott, the author is described as one who was “a keen Bible student all his life.” Cansdale’s book is fascinating and informative. In a chapter about bears, wolves, foxes, dogs, et al., Cansdale says, “Without doubt the dog is man’s oldest animal companion. . . . [The dog] assumed the role of honoured assistant and intimate companion of people all over the world” (121, 123).

C. S. Lewis once opined that “autumn is really the best of the seasons” (Letters 308). While we have no desire to quibble for, or against, this opinion, we certainly do concur with the following lines we read many years ago under the title, “The Foliage of Autumn”:

As a boy, I grew up hearing and watching the late Batsell Barrett Baxter on Herald of Truth radio and television broadcasts. Even to a kid still in elementary school, Baxter was an engaging speaker. His seemingly flawless conversational speaking style, easily understood message, and obvious care and concern for the listener, served to make him a popular speaker in the 20th century.

   The first and only time I heard Baxter preach, other than by radio or television, was in 1971. After completing undergraduate study at Harding College in 1970, providence afforded me the opportunity to return to the Harding campus the following year for the annual Bible Lectureship. The lectureship theme was “Faith in Conflict,” and

Everett Ferguson, Distinguished Scholar in Residence at Abilene Christian University, rendered a great service when he authored his brief volume Thinking~Living~Dying published in 2011 by the Warren Center. It is a publication rich in content that concerns how early Christian apologists (2nd-3rd centuries) speak to the 21st century. Describing the earliest apologists, Ferguson says they “not only won the intellectual contest with [unbelievers] but also excelled [unbelievers] in conduct. The Christian life is a powerful argument for the truth of Christianity. . . .”

Where and when this article is being written, one might say, “The weather outside is frightful!” The temperature is zero with a beautiful white landscape of 8-10 inches of snow on the ground. I think of Elihu’s words:

God . . . does great things that we cannot comprehend. For to the snow He says, “Fall on the Earth” . . . He seals up the hand of every man, that all men whom He made may know it. Then the beasts go into their lairs, and remain in their dens. From its chamber comes the whirlwind, and cold from the scattering winds. By the breath of God ice is given, and the broad waters are frozen fast. . . . Hear this, O Job: stop and consider the wondrous works of God. (Job 37:5-10, 14)

The late William F. Buckley, Jr., wrote in his 1951 book, God and Man at Yale, that he believed “the duel between Christianity and atheism is the most important in the world” (xvi). That was 70 years ago. What Buckley said was true then, and it is still true today. One year following the publication of Buckley’s book, in which he challenged the unbelief that was rearing its ugly head at Yale, a former KGB spy and defector from atheistic communism published an autobiography, which is the dark story of his former atheism, espionage, treason, and terror.