In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. If he can create and mantain the most complicated and beautiful physical reality ever assembled...Then to assume he might have a problem with a simple chess engineis absurd. Everyone of these type problems revolve around the idea that the person who is answering the original question must evaluate from thier own opinion the strenghths and supposed weaknesses of not only God but also the supposed problem that confronts him. Scripture tells us two things,1) He excists wether we believe or not & 2) His ways are higher than our ways. God bless.
Can God make an engine so strong that he can not beat it?
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chessterd5 wrote:
Scripture tells us two things,1) He excists wether we believe or not & 2) His ways are higher than our ways.
Hopefully you do not mix up "tell" and "prove".
Yes, I know, I love drama.
Can God kill himself? If he so desired?
Didn't he already do it once?
fabelhaft wrote:
Didn't he already do it once?
+1
The answer to the riddle "Can God blah blah blah" is no.
God does not create anything that is not of the essence of God.
Hence God would be playing self.
I know this to be true, because I read it in a recent issue of Viz magazine.
I think it was the Fat Slags that mentioned it.
On the other hand, God can of course refuse to play against it.
yes, it is called Houdini. Look it up some time RibkAt.
Good Article (FTimes Newspaper) on the "Christian" Nation of the UK --
Usually Robert S. writes a tongue in cheek column, but compare bolded sections below].
Notebook
Perhaps it was the thought of another washed out Easter weekend that did it. About 50 leading British atheists penned a letter complaining that David Cameron had described Britain as a “Christian country”.
You can see how these things happen. Terry Pratchett, Polly Toynbee, Philip Pullman and the others were probably planning a nice weekend planting marigolds or slaughtering slugs when they found themselves rained in and denied the normal pursuits of the holy weekend. So they sat at home fuming and decided to write a letter moaning that the prime minister’s claim would “foster alienation and division in our society”. Such are the social problems of a wet bank holiday.
There was, of course, more than a whiff of electoral calculation in Mr Cameron’s latest piety, coming just ahead of European elections he looks set to lose to the populist, traditionalist UK Independence party. Mr Cameron once likened his faith to the radio reception in the Chilterns, something that faded in and out. Apparently, the reception is strongest when he feels under threat from parties claiming to be the true voice of white Anglo-Saxon Britain.
Yet even allowing for some healthy cynicism, Mr Cameron’s remarks – he was careful not to do down other faiths – put him closer to mainstream opinion than his critics.
Even as an atheist of Jewish descent, I found myself struggling with the faithless 50’s letter. One advantage of not being Christian in Britain is that it does allow a sense of perspective on the primary faith of this country. And what one can observe from the outside, as it were, is that they could not be more wrong. Britain is not merely a Christian country; it is an incredibly Christian country, but in a benign way. For, while Britain may be Christian, its Christianity is also British. It is tolerant, understated, sympathetic to the underdog and slow to rouse. Fervency may be permitted but it is terribly bad form.
When Tony Blair’s press chief restrained his boss’s fervour with the warning that “we don’t do God”, he was rightly speaking for a nation that prefers to wear its faith under its sleeve. Mr Cameron’s intermittent radio reception analogy is the reality for most people. Feeling Christian is easy because it requires no special effort unless you wish to put it in.
The secularists argue that most adults are no longer Christian in belief or identity. (This, incidentally, is dubious. The numbers are falling but in the last census 59 per cent described themselves as Christian. I’m no statistician but that looks like what we used to call a majority.) But the numbers game misses a bigger point. This is not about churchgoing. Anglicanism is so deeply woven into society that many no longer equate its reach with religion. Church and state’s values and social codes are largely synonymous.
As is its architecture. Forget the established church or the Queen as defender of the faith. Just think of the humble church hall, standing at the apex of the community; available for every secular event from birthday parties to school plays. A parish church or the strains of “Jerusalem” evoke the same wistful affection as a cricket pitch or a cream tea. Our television shows may mock vicars but the mockery is affectionate and familiar.
One can argue that faith influence is waning – as the Church’s recent defeat over gay marriage shows – but again this is to miss the point. The strength of Britain’s Christianity was less doctrinal than social.
Yet things are changing and the change coincides with the arrival of confrontational atheism of the kind evinced by the faithless 50. Atheism used to make few demands on its supporters. It was less a movement than a lie-in on the sabbath. Now it is increasingly evangelical, an angry belief in non-belief. In this world view every hot cross bun is a symbol of oppression.
Faced with this, Christians have also become more assertive. The campaign against gay marriage was vituperative and devoid of humanity.
Even Mr Cameron, who lost much support by championing that cause, now talks of a need to be “more evangelical” for the faith.
It is a pity and probably a mistake. Sunny optimism and easy faith play better for him. Brits dislike preachy PMs and the politics of anger will benefit Ukip rather than him.
But Britain is now in the grip of anger; be it angry atheism or angry Christianity. Ironically, each poses a threat to its own side because anger is exclusive not inclusive. Militancy will weaken both causes.
As it was written: “He that rolleth a stone, it will return upon him.”
DrSpudnik wrote:
Does God ever ask himself, "Just who the hell do I think I am?"
Or, why do so many people think I exist, when I don't?
Apr 25, 2014
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#374
Conflagration_Planet wrote:
DrSpudnik wrote:
Does God ever ask himself, "Just who the hell do I think I am?"
Or, why do so many people think I exist, when I don't?
There's something I didn't consider. Does God believe in Conflagration_Planet?
I don't know. 
yES.
Can God make an engine so weak that no one can avoid beating it?
Yes.