Is there any obvious evidence today for the biblical global Flood?

[Clete]

That was a horrible time. My grand parents and much of my family come from the Waco area. I believe God is capable of all things. A persons faith is their faith. They are suitable for such so long as they harm nothing and no one in their practice. I respect peoples faiths but I believe in the one true God, Jesus and Holy Spirit.

That does not answer the question. If your faith doesn't have to make sense, then how do you tell the Davidians that they're wrong?

 

[Right Divider]

Nah, to me the flood in the Bible, from Genesis 6 through 9, sits in that strange, gritty tension between myth and memory, judgment and mercy, truth and tale.

We can see the problem.

It's presented as a worldwide catastrophe—a divine reset triggered by human corruption, where God spares only Noah, his family, and a pair of every creature, sealing them inside an ark while the rest of the world drowns under forty days and nights of rain.

The flood narrative is the most detailed timeline in all of the Bible.

The story is brutal.

Sadly true.

It’s not sanitized for Sunday School, no matter how many cartoon arks get painted on nursery walls. It’s the story of a God who wipes the slate clean, of a world so far gone that mercy looks like starting over.

Again, very sad but true.

But when you drag the story out of Genesis and set it next to reality—next to the fossil record, archaeological layers, and historical timelines—it doesn’t add up as literal, global history.

Your extreme bias again the truth is plain to see here. "drag the story out of Genesis..."... really?

There’s no solid geological evidence of a worldwide flood in the time frame Genesis implies.

Utter nonsense.

No sediment layers covering the globe.

It appears that you are ignorant of the facts of the world.

No mass extinction on the scale a true global flood would leave behind.

You make a lot of bold claims without providing any support whatsoever.

 

[Clete]

You ask me to “establish” it—as if faith were a thesis paper or a doctrine in a seminary catalog. Like it can be dissected, annotated, defended with tidy citations and syllogisms. But you don’t establish faith in a classroom. You earn it in the streets, in the gutters, in the fire where theology either breathes or dies.

So that which is "earned in the streets" is irrational and cannot be defended with sound reason?

Is that what you intended to imply?

You want to know what “produced” that statement? Let me lay it bare for you.

No, I'm afraid I couldn't care less. (Not that I don't care about your personal experiences, but simply that they are not relevant to the point.) Experience is just about the worst possible test for truth. The Davidians were having a great time hanging out with their messiah until they all burned to death.

I was fourteen, living on the streets, sleeping under bridges, stealing crusts, selling scraps, ducking cops and fists and nights too cold to survive. I joined the military and shipped out to Vietnam not because I was patriotic, but because it was either that or rot. And over there I saw boys younger than I’d been lose their legs, their minds, and their souls. I saw good men butchered and evil ones rise. I held guts in with my bare hands. I prayed with men whose last words were “Tell my mama I’m sorry.” And when I came back, I came back broken and quiet, dragging ghosts.

I became a chaplain in the worst places—back alleys, detox tanks, train yards, soup kitchens where folks had to choose between dinner or another fix. I held men’s heads while they vomited blood and demons. I preached beside railroad fires with hobos and drifters and schizophrenics who knew Scripture better than most pastors. I patched roofs on old shelters held up by faith and duct tape. And I carried my mother out of bars more times than I can count, bloody and broken from being used as a punching bag.

I’ve gone hungry more times than I’ve prayed. I’ve been beaten, spit on, cursed at, ignored, and locked up for trying to keep someone alive long enough to hear, “You matter. God sees you.”

So you want to talk theology? Sure, let’s. But know this: my faith wasn’t born in books. It wasn’t born in pulpits or pews. It was born in foxholes and barrooms, alleys and shelters, in the bones of broken people and the eyes of addicts whispering “thank you” before slipping into death. It was born when I stood in the gap and the system failed. When the structure cracked, and all I had left was a whisper in the soul that said, “Hold on.”

Faith, for me, is what held when nothing else did. When theology couldn’t answer the screams, faith whispered hope. When doctrine broke apart in the fire, faith walked me out alive.

So no—I can’t show you the footnotes. But I can show you the scars. I can show you the gospel in calluses and bruises. I can show you Christ where the church won’t look.

And if that ain’t enough for you—then brother, you’re not really asking for truth. You’re asking for permission not to feel. And I ain’t the one to give it.

You missed the entire point. Let me explain it explicitly...

You state that theology must be "study, argument, structure" and then immediate make a theological claim that you were implying, and have now stated outright, cannot even be reached with "study, argument, structure". You make a claim and then instantly contradict that very claim.

There is one thing you need to learn.

There is no such thing as an irrational truth and contradictions do not exist in reality! If you think you've found one, check your premises. You'll find that one of them is wrong.

 

[Clete]

Not sure how to answer this. Are you seeking to spar or simply not knowing or being sarcastic or are you asking yourself the question and answering it yourself. A sort of self diagnosis?

He's simply trying to get you to see that you've overstated your case.

The bible doesn't teach that God can do absolutely everything. In fact, it explicitly states that God cannot lie, but more than that, God cannot do the rationally absurd. He cannot make a perfect sphere with sharp edges. He cannot go to a place that does not exist. He cannot know the unknowable. He cannot create causeless, unchosen love. He cannot be arbitrarily just. He cannot do self-contradictory things.

This is true because God is real. He isn't make-believe and He isn't a magician. He's a person with a mind, emotions, desires and plans. He works with, through, around and in spite of those whom He has created to accomplished His goals and does not always get what He wants but responds with wisdom, patience, power and love and wins in the end anyway.

That is the God of scripture. He is the God of truth - not contradiction and irrationality. He is not a God of confusion that asks you to believe things that make no sense or to turn off your mind and "just believe"! Mindless belief is paganism! Every lunatic cult leader preaches that kind of "faith". Biblical faith, is about substantive evidence and one's willingness to accept the verdict it gives. It is an attitude that says, "My allegiance is to the truth, whether it tickles my ears or not, whether I like it or not, no matter the cost." That allegiance carries a necessary corollary: that falsehood is to be rejected, no matter how much is tickles my ears to hear it, no matter how comforting is feels or gratifying it seems.

 

[tymordaenill]

It was a legitimate question based on what you wrote:

Based on that... do you think that God is capable of sinning?

God cannot sin. That’s not a limit—it’s the line that separates the holy from the hollow. Sin isn’t power. It’s the breakdown of it. It’s rot. It’s rebellion. God doesn’t bend like we do. He doesn’t fracture. He doesn’t fake it. He’s not capable of corruption because He’s not like us. He is holy—burning, pure, untouchable by the filth we wallow in and yet willing to step right into it to save us. That’s not weakness. That’s the only kind of power that saves.

When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, Satan came at Him with scripture on his tongue and manipulation in his heart. “If you are the Son of God…” That same snake-talk. Turn stones into bread. Jump off the temple. Bow down and I’ll give you power. Perform. Prove it. But Jesus didn’t bite. He didn’t bend. He knew who He was and who His Father was, and He refused to act outside of that. He answered with the Word. He stood rooted. He didn’t entertain the devil’s game, and I won’t either.

God cannot sin. Not because He’s bound, but because He is the boundary. He is the definition of righteousness. If He could sin, He’d stop being God. That’s not a possibility—it’s an absurdity.

And I’ll say it plain, because this is where I stand: I believe God is holy. I believe God cannot sin. I believe Jesus Christ—God in the flesh—knew no sin, became sin for our sake, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21). That’s the ground I walk on. That’s the reason I trust Him. Not because I’ve got every verse ironed out, but because I’ve seen enough to know His character is not up for negotiation. A God who could sin wouldn’t be worth following. But the God I follow is fire and mercy, truth and love, and He does not change.

 

[Right Divider]

God cannot sin.

So God is not "capable of all things". Thanks for your reversal.

 

[Clete]

God cannot sin. That’s not a limit—it’s the line that separates the holy from the hollow. Sin isn’t power. It’s the breakdown of it. It’s rot. It’s rebellion. God doesn’t bend like we do. He doesn’t fracture. He doesn’t fake it. He’s not capable of corruption because He’s not like us. He is holy—burning, pure, untouchable by the filth we wallow in and yet willing to step right into it to save us. That’s not weakness. That’s the only kind of power that saves.

When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, Satan came at Him with scripture on his tongue and manipulation in his heart. “If you are the Son of God…” That same snake-talk. Turn stones into bread. Jump off the temple. Bow down and I’ll give you power. Perform. Prove it. But Jesus didn’t bite. He didn’t bend. He knew who He was and who His Father was, and He refused to act outside of that. He answered with the Word. He stood rooted. He didn’t entertain the devil’s game, and I won’t either.

God cannot sin. Not because He’s bound, but because He is the boundary. He is the definition of righteousness. If He could sin, He’d stop being God. That’s not a possibility—it’s an absurdity.

And I’ll say it plain, because this is where I stand: I believe God is holy. I believe God cannot sin. I believe Jesus Christ—God in the flesh—knew no sin, became sin for our sake, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21). That’s the ground I walk on. That’s the reason I trust Him. Not because I’ve got every verse ironed out, but because I’ve seen enough to know His character is not up for negotiation. A God who could sin wouldn’t be worth following. But the God I follow is fire and mercy, truth and love, and He does not change.

I invite you to read and respond to the following.

Is God Moral?​

 

[tymordaenill]

To everyone in this thread—JudgeRightly, Clete, Right Divider, Bladerunner, and others—I want to say thank you. Thank you for the engagement, the pushback, the challenges. I didn’t come here looking for a fight, and I’m not leaving in bitterness. I came for the kind of conversation that sharpens faith and opens hearts. But I’ve also come to see that sometimes, words keep spinning where wisdom won’t land. And I don’t want to keep spinning.

I’ve heard you, clearly. Some of you are certain that the flood happened exactly as Genesis records—global, geological, undeniable—and that anything less than that is a rejection of God’s Word. Others press for a kind of faith that leaves no room for doubt, no tension, no mystery. I understand that framework. I was raised around it. I studied it. I lived under it. And I broke under it too.

So let me be clear in return. I believe in God. I believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the living Word, and the promise of redemption. But I also believe the Bible is not a weapon to be wielded in debate or a checklist to be ticked off for orthodoxy points. It’s a collection of Spirit-breathed, human-penned texts formed in the fire of history, trauma, hope, empire, liberation, and faith. It’s not clean. It’s not always literal. And it’s not afraid of questions. Neither am I.

To JudgeRightly—I see your conviction. I respect your passion for the Word. But sometimes, in your urgency to defend scripture, you come off like you’re defending control. Like any voice that doesn’t echo yours is dangerous. I don’t believe that’s how Christ operated. He walked with doubters. He spoke in parables that didn’t resolve cleanly. He led with mercy, not mockery.

To Clete—I hear your demand for logic, your need for consistency. But faith isn't math. It’s more than syllogisms and bulletproof doctrines. You asked me to establish my theology like it’s a thesis. But I don’t need citations to prove God’s carried me through hell. I don’t need footnotes to validate the scars that made me believe. I didn’t “contradict” myself—I lived into the tension. That’s not a cop-out. That’s the shape of faith when it's honest.

To Right Divider—your questions seemed less like searching and more like traps. That’s not dialogue. That’s cross-examination. You asked if God could sin. I answered from the deepest truth I know: no, He cannot. Not because He’s limited, but because He is the line. He’s holy, and I trust Him. But if you're asking just to catch people in their words, then you’re not seeking truth. You’re seeking to win. And I’m not playing that game.

Here’s where I land: I believe the flood story matters deeply—not for its logistics, but for its theology. It tells of grief, judgment, and mercy. It reminds us that God remembers, even when the world forgets. I don’t believe in it because I’ve proved it. I believe because even when I doubted everything else, God kept showing up. In alleyways. In trauma wards. In people I was told were beyond saving. And in myself, when I was too far gone to be reached.

This will be my last post in this thread. Not because I’m angry. Not because I don’t care. And not because I’m afraid of disagreement. But because this particular conversation has become a loop. It’s no longer a dialogue—just a tug-of-war where no one’s moving. And I’ve got no desire to keep pulling a rope that leads nowhere.

That said, don’t mistake this for silence. I’m not disappearing. I’ll engage in other discussions, with anyone willing to wrestle with faith honestly. I believe in tough questions. I believe in hard truths. And I believe in a gospel big enough to handle both.

To the rest: walk in grace. If your theology doesn’t make room for humility, you’re not done studying. And if your version of truth crushes people instead of freeing them, it’s not Christ’s truth.

I leave in peace, with no bitterness, no shame, and no desire to win. Just love, grit, and the gospel.

God called. I showed up—with just faith and backbone.

Tym

 

[Right Divider]

To Right Divider—your questions seemed less like searching and more like traps. That’s not dialogue. That’s cross-examination. You asked if God could sin. I answered from the deepest truth I know: no, He cannot. Not because He’s limited, but because He is the line. He’s holy, and I trust Him. But if you're asking just to catch people in their words, then you’re not seeking truth. You’re seeking to win. And I’m not playing that game.

My questions were completely honest and legitimate.

We can now see, by your departure, that you were not here for dialog. You were here to show your "superiority".

 

[Clete]

To Clete—I hear your demand for logic, your need for consistency. But faith isn't math. It’s more than syllogisms and bulletproof doctrines. You asked me to establish my theology like it’s a thesis. But I don’t need citations to prove God’s carried me through hell. I don’t need footnotes to validate the scars that made me believe. I didn’t “contradict” myself—I lived into the tension. That’s not a cop-out. That’s the shape of faith when it's honest.

Saying it doesn't make it so. You very obviously did contradict yourself. The whole thread is still right here for the whole world to read.

You say you came for the kind of conversation that sharpens faith and opens hearts but leave the second you're asked to defend your "faith"!

It seems what you actually came for was to find people that would agree with everything you said, empathize with your past experiences and praise the "wisdom" it has taught you.

If what its taught you is that irrational nonsense might be true, then you're in danger, Ty! You've been set up to be blown about by every wind of doctrine and to live a hobbled Christian life where your left hand doesn't know what your right hand is doing, nor the difference between right and wrong, truth and falsehood. You're at the mercy of whichever "teacher" does the best job of stroking your ego or affirming your pain.

Ty, I’m not trying to be harsh for the sake of being harsh, I’m trying to love you with clarity. If you say that faith transcends reason, then fine, but it cannot contradict it. God is Reason. God is not the author of confusion. When your theology starts to sound like poetic chaos, when contradictions are called “tension,” and when evidence is shrugged off because “I lived it”, that’s not depth, that’s retreat. That’s not spiritual, that’s literally dangerous.

You don’t need citations to tell your story, I agree! But the moment you step into theology, you’re making claims about actual truth, not just about your truth. That moves the conversation out of testimony and into territory where consistency and coherence DO matter.

You can’t expect others to treat your beliefs seriously if you're not willing to hold them up to scrutiny. And when your beliefs openly contradict themselves, and you defend that by appealing to “the shape of honest faith,” you’re not walking by faith, you’re stumbling around on the basis of sentiment.

This isn’t about winning a debate. It’s about rescuing faith from the fog of postmodern emotion and rooting it in what is actually true. Faith without reason is just superstition dressed in sincerity.

Ty, you're made for better than that! You are made in the very image of the God who is Reason itself!

 

[tymordaenill]

Clete. Right Divider.

I hear you. Loud and clear. You’ve made your assessments, drawn your conclusions, and passed your judgment. I won’t waste time trying to defend myself against accusations of superiority or spiritual confusion. That’s not a conversation—it’s a closing argument in a trial I never signed up for.

What I brought to this thread was not a system or a syllabus. It was a soul. I came with a lived faith, born in fire and tempered by grief, not to win debates but to bear witness. That’s what testimony is. That’s what the early church bled for—not airtight theology, but the raw confession that Jesus Christ is Lord even when the whole world says otherwise.

Right Divider, your question about whether God can sin wasn’t offensive. But what came after wasn’t honest engagement—it was accusation disguised as logic. You made your mind up about me the moment my answers didn’t fit your framework. You wanted precision, not presence. But I’ve learned to recognize when people ask questions not to learn, but to trap. I’ve seen it on the streets, in broken churches, and now here. And I’m not obligated to entertain it.

Clete, you say I contradicted myself. Maybe I did—if you only read with the eyes of a logician. But faith isn’t a geometry proof. It’s a relationship. It stretches. It groans. It walks with God through paradox, mystery, and the jagged edge of suffering. You call that postmodern fog. I call it the Psalms. I call it Gethsemane. I call it Jacob wrestling God all night and limping away blessed. You demand clarity, but not everything true is neat.

You said I left the conversation the moment I was asked to defend my faith. But I didn’t leave—I answered, over and over. You just didn’t like that my answers didn’t look like your answers. That’s not evasion. That’s difference. That’s tension. That’s a thing called humanity.

I’m not against reason. God gave us minds and truth matters. But when reason becomes a cage and theology a cudgel, we stop proclaiming good news and start managing a fortress. And I’m not interested in living in that fortress. Christ didn’t die to make us better debaters. He died to set the captives free. And I’ve seen too many of those captives walk out of church doors with their souls torn apart because they couldn’t live up to someone else’s doctrinal grid.

This will be my last word—not just because the thread is spent, but because the Spirit in me says enough. I won’t be drawn back in. Not out of fear. Not out of weakness. But because I know when the conversation has stopped bearing fruit.

You say I’m in danger? I say I’m redeemed. You say I’m irrational? I say I’ve met God in the place where reason fails. You say I’m avoiding scrutiny? I say I’ve stood under the weight of suffering you couldn’t calculate with a spreadsheet and found Christ still holding me.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). That’s the theology that saved me. That’s the gospel I live by.

 

[tymordaenill]

God of truth and mercy,
You see what we cannot. You hear beyond our words.
You know the weight behind our beliefs, the wounds behind our questions, the fears beneath our certainty.

To the ones who speak with conviction—give humility.
To the ones who speak from pain—give healing.
To the ones who listen—give discernment.
And to the ones who are tired—give rest.

Lord, don’t let our theology become a wall that hides You. Let it be a window.
Break what needs breaking. Mend what’s torn.
Lead us to the cross again—not as a trophy, but as an altar.
Teach us to love truth enough to sit in silence when we must.
And teach us to love people enough to speak with grace when we speak at all.

I lift up every soul who reads these words—friend, stranger, critic, skeptic.
May they know You—not just in doctrine, but in Spirit and in truth.
May they meet Christ not only in the pages of scripture, but in the ashes of their own undoing.
And may they be found by the God who never stops coming after us,
Even when we’ve talked ourselves into thinking we already have Him figured out.

I place this thread in Your hands. May whatever was good take root.
And may whatever was prideful, petty, or cruel be burned away like chaff.
Let what remains be love.

In the name of Jesus Christ,
Who is not afraid of our questions,
Who walks with the wounded,
And who is the Truth that makes us free—
Amen.

 

[Derf]

Clete. Right Divider.

I hear you. Loud and clear. You’ve made your assessments, drawn your conclusions, and passed your judgment. I won’t waste time trying to defend myself against accusations of superiority or spiritual confusion. That’s not a conversation—it’s a closing argument in a trial I never signed up for.

What I brought to this thread was not a system or a syllabus. It was a soul. I came with a lived faith, born in fire and tempered by grief, not to win debates but to bear witness. That’s what testimony is. That’s what the early church bled for—not airtight theology, but the raw confession that Jesus Christ is Lord even when the whole world says otherwise.

Right Divider, your question about whether God can sin wasn’t offensive. But what came after wasn’t honest engagement—it was accusation disguised as logic. You made your mind up about me the moment my answers didn’t fit your framework. You wanted precision, not presence. But I’ve learned to recognize when people ask questions not to learn, but to trap. I’ve seen it on the streets, in broken churches, and now here. And I’m not obligated to entertain it.

Clete, you say I contradicted myself. Maybe I did—if you only read with the eyes of a logician. But faith isn’t a geometry proof. It’s a relationship. It stretches. It groans. It walks with God through paradox, mystery, and the jagged edge of suffering. You call that postmodern fog. I call it the Psalms. I call it Gethsemane. I call it Jacob wrestling God all night and limping away blessed. You demand clarity, but not everything true is neat.

You said I left the conversation the moment I was asked to defend my faith. But I didn’t leave—I answered, over and over. You just didn’t like that my answers didn’t look like your answers. That’s not evasion. That’s difference. That’s tension. That’s a thing called humanity.

I’m not against reason. God gave us minds and truth matters. But when reason becomes a cage and theology a cudgel, we stop proclaiming good news and start managing a fortress. And I’m not interested in living in that fortress. Christ didn’t die to make us better debaters. He died to set the captives free. And I’ve seen too many of those captives walk out of church doors with their souls torn apart because they couldn’t live up to someone else’s doctrinal grid.

This will be my last word—not just because the thread is spent, but because the Spirit in me says enough. I won’t be drawn back in. Not out of fear. Not out of weakness. But because I know when the conversation has stopped bearing fruit.

You say I’m in danger? I say I’m redeemed. You say I’m irrational? I say I’ve met God in the place where reason fails. You say I’m avoiding scrutiny? I say I’ve stood under the weight of suffering you couldn’t calculate with a spreadsheet and found Christ still holding me.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). That’s the theology that saved me. That’s the gospel I live by.

If lived faith trumps the written word, why was the word written in the first place? Not to dog-pile on you, but if the written word isn't trustworthy, any religious system could bring the same stories you've brought and claim their system as truth--something that others need to follow. We follow what we know. We know because it was written down, and it was written down with help from the Holy Spirit, and multiple sources to check it against. We have no verification of your stories or message, no offense intended. I'm not sure what you want us to do with your message. Have faith? In what? In God, when He can't even deliver a true rendition of history, according to you? If the message is true, your life stories can be helpful in leading someone to the truth of the gospel, which is underscored by the veracity of the whole bible--or not! Since you've chosen "or not", I'm taking your word over that of someone that witnessed the events (even the creation event comes across as an eyewitness account), and in the case of the gospel of the death and resurrection of Christ multiple eyewitnesses.

 

[Clete]

Clete. Right Divider.

I hear you. Loud and clear. You’ve made your assessments, drawn your conclusions, and passed your judgment. I won’t waste time trying to defend myself against accusations of superiority or spiritual confusion. That’s not a conversation—it’s a closing argument in a trial I never signed up for.

Stupidity.

What I brought to this thread was not a system or a syllabus.

Obviously! Neither was it a trained mind or coherent theology.

It was a soul. I came with a lived faith, born in fire and tempered by grief, not to win debates but to bear witness. That’s what testimony is. That’s what the early church bled for—not airtight theology, but the raw confession that Jesus Christ is Lord even when the whole world says otherwise.

If your life experience has taught you that the truth need not make sense then it's made you a fool.

Right Divider, your question about whether God can sin wasn’t offensive. But what came after wasn’t honest engagement—it was accusation disguised as logic. You made your mind up about me the moment my answers didn’t fit your framework. You wanted precision, not presence. But I’ve learned to recognize when people ask questions not to learn, but to trap. I’ve seen it on the streets, in broken churches, and now here. And I’m not obligated to entertain it.

Thin skinned silliness. You've just admitted to being put off by people who use precision in their doctrine.

Clete, you say I contradicted myself. Maybe I did—

There is no "maybe" and it isn't true because I say it. The post is still right there for the entire English speaking world to see! You DID contradict yourself - period!

if you only read with the eyes of a logician.

There are times when less precision is understandable and tolerable, even desired, but making theological claims is not one of those times.

But faith isn’t a geometry proof.

No one is claiming that faith is some form of mathematics but there is no such thing as an irrational truth - by definition.

It’s a relationship.

THIS IS A RATIONAL STATEMENT!!!!
You don’t trust someone irrationally (or at least you shouldn’t); you trust them because they’ve shown themselves trustworthy. That’s a rational basis for a relational decision. Likewise, faith in God isn’t irrational, it’s the most rational response to who God is.

Faith is a rational relationship, rooted in reason, expressed through trust.

It stretches. It groans. It walks with God through paradox, mystery, and the jagged edge of suffering. You call that postmodern fog. I call it the Psalms. I call it Gethsemane. I call it Jacob wrestling God all night and limping away blessed. You demand clarity, but not everything true is neat.

Show me a counter example. Where is the truth at contradicts itself. Were is the precept that cannot be understood?

Go ahead, show me just one!

You said I left the conversation the moment I was asked to defend my faith. But I didn’t leave—I answered, over and over. You just didn’t like that my answers didn’t look like your answers. That’s not evasion. That’s difference. That’s tension. That’s a thing called humanity.

It was a figure of speech, not a commentary on how many seconds had transpired between you starting a conversation and leaving it. As soon as you detected that the conversation wasn't going in the direction you liked, you bail out. You lasted here the span of one quite short thread!

I’m not against reason. God gave us minds and truth matters. But when reason becomes a cage and theology a cudgel, we stop proclaiming good news and start managing a fortress.

No we don't!
God is Reason! There is no such thing as irrational truth! There is no such thing as immoral truth. Truth is not, nor can it be, antithetical to God or godliness! It is godliness!

And I’m not interested in living in that fortress.

You're not interested in limiting your mind to the truth.

That isn't what you intended to say. It is what you said.

Christ didn’t die to make us better debaters.

That isn't the point. This is a tactic known as moving the goal post. I don't care whether you're that great at defending what you believe. What I care about is whether or not you are willing to reject the irrational as false and whether you allegiance is to what you want to believe vs. what is actually truth.

He died to set the captives free. And I’ve seen too many of those captives walk out of church doors with their souls torn apart because they couldn’t live up to someone else’s doctrinal grid.

Well, the vast majority of "doctrine grids" that exist in any church you've ever darkened the door of are almost certainly irrational and couldn't possibly be lived up to no matter what anyone tried to do or how much effort they put into it.

This will be my last word—not just because the thread is spent, but because the Spirit in me says enough.

The spirit (small s) within you, is your own emotional state of mind running from the idea that something you believe might not make any sense.

I won’t be drawn back in. Not out of fear. Not out of weakness. But because I know when the conversation has stopped bearing fruit.

There was never any fruit possible. Your mind is turn off.

You say I’m in danger? I say I’m redeemed. You say I’m irrational? I say I’ve met God in the place where reason fails.

You met God where God fails?!

You literally do not know what you're even talking about.

I ask you again, how would you ever be able to tell a Branch Davidian that they were (are) wrong?

The point there is that you can't! You might as well just go believe whatever random thing you desire to believe.

You say I’m avoiding scrutiny?

You very obviously are! You are here stating in no uncertain terms that faith isn't to be scrutinized!

I say I’ve stood under the weight of suffering you couldn’t calculate with a spreadsheet and found Christ still holding me.

Yeah?! You think you've got David Koresh beat in terms suffering?

How many Catholics have been murdered for their faith?
How many Calvinists have been murdered for theirs?

Both cannot be right, Ty!

Your suffering is NOT a test for truth!

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). That’s the theology that saved me. That’s the gospel I live by.

You're not making a theological argument; you’re closing the door on one. It’s essentially saying, “This verse resonates with me emotionally, therefore my theology is sound.”

But Scripture isn’t a mood ring, Ty! It’s truth. And truth is not validated by personal experience alone. The verse itself is beautiful and true, but it’s not a license to reject critical thinking, logic, or a comprehensive and self-consistent theology.

You're really just replacing theology with autobiography, as if the test of truth is "what helped me cope", rather than "what God has actually revealed."

Sure, God is near to the brokenhearted, but that doesn’t mean theology becomes a choose-your-own-adventure. Of course, God does save the crushed in spirit, but He also commands us to love Him with all our mind, not just our emotions (Luke 10:27). The gospel is not validated by how it makes us feel. It's validated by the reality of Christ’s death and resurrection, by reason, by history, and by the integrity (i.e. self-consistency) of God’s nature.

 

[Right Divider]

Right Divider, your question about whether God can sin wasn’t offensive. But what came after wasn’t honest engagement—it was accusation disguised as logic. You made your mind up about me the moment my answers didn’t fit your framework. You wanted precision, not presence. But I’ve learned to recognize when people ask questions not to learn, but to trap. I’ve seen it on the streets, in broken churches, and now here. And I’m not obligated to entertain it.

You made an absolute claim that was false. I called you out on it. If you don't like that, don't come here making false claims. It's just that simple.

 

[7djengo7]

I believe it’s possible. Maybe the flood happened, maybe it didn’t. Maybe none of it lines up exactly like we think.

"We think"? That's disingenuous language from you right after your having said you don't think the Flood happened.

In the end, only the infinite knows for sure.

Why say "knows for sure" instead of "knows"? Either someone knows X, or he does not know X. Adding "for sure" is mere verbal inflation, rather than any sort of qualification or modification.

Everyone who believes Genesis knows the Flood happened.

I’ve read the arguments, seen the doubt,

Nay, apparently fueled, encouraged, perpetuated the doubt.

and I still choose to believe.

Above, you just made it clear you don't believe in the Flood:

Not because it all makes sense,

What about the Noahic Flood doesn't "make sense" to you?

but because there’s a faith in me that says God is real,

What (if anything) do you mean by your fake "adjective", "real"? Is it not just kind of a dummy word? In any case, no faith is in you that God flooded the earth. It's funny: I haven't even found your word "real" in my Bible, yet I can therein find God explicitly declaring that "behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven; and every thing that is in the earth shall die." Yet, you don't believe what He is telling you, there.

Jesus is alive, and the Spirit is present—no matter what. That’s the bottom line for me. All the talk about flood or no flood, who’s right or wrong—it doesn’t shake that. I believe because something in me knows He’s there.

You could probably sell that sort of stuff at Hallmark. But it's worthless when it comes to talking to scoffers and unbelievers of the Bible such as yourself. Your "holier-than-thou" anti-intellectualism isn't a virtue.

 

[Clete]

I haven't any idea whether @tymordaenill will see this post or not. I hope he does! What follows is what will eventually be the first post of a new thread. There's more tweaking, editing and rewriting I'm going to do it and there's more to say on the topic but this gets the gist of it....

Faith Isn’t What Happens Instead of Reason, It’s What Happens As a Result of It


There’s a kind of faith today that isn’t built, it’s felt. It comes not from conviction about what is true but from how well a belief helps someone survive. We’re told that faith is forged in the trenches, in trauma, in sorrow, and that if it held us together when everything else fell apart, it must be valid. That confuses faith with coping. And coping, though real and raw and deeply human, is not the same as truth.

Faith is not a relic of suffering. It is a response to reality.

We are rational beings, made in the image of a rational God. That means we are capable of examining the world, of tracing cause and effect, of discerning truth from illusion. When someone says, “I believe because this got me through,” they are offering testimony to the power of a belief to comfort, not to its truth. But a belief’s utility is not its validation. If comfort becomes the test, then anything—true or false—can qualify. That is a dangerous standard, and we know it.

Even emotions themselves are not the root of belief but the fruit. What we feel flows from what we conclude. And what we conclude flows from how we think. Emotions can be beautiful, but they are often unstable because they are built on impressions, memories, trauma, mood, or misinformation. When we mistake them for a foundation, we confuse the echo with the voice.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “Unless the measuring rod is independent of the things measured, we can do no measuring.” In the same way, unless our faith is rooted in something outside of ourselves, outside of our feelings, our experiences, our victories or our tragedies, it will collapse in on itself. Real faith begins when reason tests a claim and finds it credible. It does not bypass the intellect to soothe the heart. It persuades the mind first and then floods the heart with joy, confidence, and peace, not because it is convenient, but because it is true.

This is what reasoned faith does. It builds on the Rock, not on the shifting sands of what we have endured. It is not born from how hard life has been, but from how firm the truth remains in spite of it.

 

[Clete]

Faith Is Not the Opposite of Reason, It Is the Fruit of It!​

 

[Derf]

Faith Is Not the Opposite of Reason, It Is the Fruit of It!​

Along with love, joy, and peace.

 

[Bladerunner]

I haven't any idea whether @tymordaenill will see this post or not. I hope he does! What follows is what will eventually be the first post of a new thread. There's more tweaking, editing and rewriting I'm going to do it and there's more to say on the topic but this gets the gist of it....

Faith Isn’t What Happens Instead of Reason, It’s What Happens As a Result of It


There’s a kind of faith today that isn’t built, it’s felt. It comes not from conviction about what is true but from how well a belief helps someone survive. We’re told that faith is forged in the trenches, in trauma, in sorrow, and that if it held us together when everything else fell apart, it must be valid. That confuses faith with coping. And coping, though real and raw and deeply human, is not the same as truth.

Faith is not a relic of suffering. It is a response to reality.

We are rational beings, made in the image of a rational God. That means we are capable of examining the world, of tracing cause and effect, of discerning truth from illusion. When someone says, “I believe because this got me through,” they are offering testimony to the power of a belief to comfort, not to its truth. But a belief’s utility is not its validation. If comfort becomes the test, then anything—true or false—can qualify. That is a dangerous standard, and we know it.

Even emotions themselves are not the root of belief but the fruit. What we feel flows from what we conclude. And what we conclude flows from how we think. Emotions can be beautiful, but they are often unstable because they are built on impressions, memories, trauma, mood, or misinformation. When we mistake them for a foundation, we confuse the echo with the voice.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “Unless the measuring rod is independent of the things measured, we can do no measuring.” In the same way, unless our faith is rooted in something outside of ourselves, outside of our feelings, our experiences, our victories or our tragedies, it will collapse in on itself. Real faith begins when reason tests a claim and finds it credible. It does not bypass the intellect to soothe the heart. It persuades the mind first and then floods the heart with joy, confidence, and peace, not because it is convenient, but because it is true.

This is what reasoned faith does. It builds on the Rock, not on the shifting sands of what we have endured. It is not born from how hard life has been, but from how firm the truth remains in spite of it.

Your rationality of Faith and/or GOD does not hold water! It is an old Atheist argument. God is either rational or irrational . Either He is logical or illogical. Non-belief with a rational (logical) God can only reward me for it and He cannot punish me for it. Lack of belief in the absence of evidence is rational. (Rationality of God, Velesk)

Therefore faith and non-belief are the same. Yet, Gods words tells us that rationality, logic and/or any kind of reasoning will not get anyone into heaven.

"For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified." (Rom 8:29-30).

For those who do not believe in God's Word as it is written in the KJV /LSB still have the Rationality/Logical argument (above) to rely on.......But.......I would not bet the farm on it!