Two interesting questions from conversing with my son

My son likes to ask questions. I'm still new enough to this fatherhood business that sometimes it's irritating. On other occasions, however, very interesting questions arise from our conversations.

The first one came up in a conversation about computers. We were discussing how people make mistakes in mathematics, while computers don't, unless they're wired or coded badly. I asked, So that makes me wonder, why do people make mistakes?

I didn't know the answer. Alik had a nice idea, though; Maybe, he suggested, it's because people can think of new things, but computers cannot.

That's not an exact quote, but I think it captures the essence of what he said. I thought it was a very profound answer, especially from the mouth of a nine year-old: people, being creative, let their creativity get the best of them; confusing their ideas with the truth, they make mistakes.

(That may not be what he meant, actually. Either way, I intend to ask a psychology professor next chance I get.)

Another question came up after Alik said he could prove the existence of God. He and I discussed it, and I tried to take the point of view of a non-believer. I was doing rather well apparently, since Alik asked me quite seriously, Jack, do you believe in God?

Heh. I wonder. :-) Do I believe in God? My answer was that he must first tell me what the word "God" means. That shouldn't surprise anyone who has read what I wrote earlier on the subject; from my point of view, it's senseless to discuss the question unless we are first agreed on the terms. St. Anselm does so, defining God as "that greater than which nothing else can exist", whereas St. Thomas Aquinas says that we can't define God so much as draw analogies from our experience of him. Hence, the five ways.

I wonder why my son needed to ask. Perhaps that's another interesting question of psychology; after all, we regularly attend church; he sees me pray at home; I try to let Christ's teachings guide my life, and pass those teachings on to him.

Some people claim that Dostoevsky was not a Christian, when I had always understood that he was. I wonder if it isn't an error of our age to confuse faith and intellect. I can struggle with the idea of God's existence, without for a moment doubting that God exists. Indeed, my struggle with the question has only strengthened my faith, even while it weakens my intellect. It's not that I feel the two are opposed; rather, I sense that they are not at all the same. (I always felt intuitively that Dostoevsky must have been in the same situation.)

I have often wondered whether God exists; such occasions increase in frequency as I get older. It has been many years, however, since I genuinely doubted God's existence. My understanding of God changes; my awe and wonder grow; my conviction of the utter intimacy of God and the correctness of the Christian religion stand firmer than ever.

Yet I question constantly, and well enough apparently that my son asked me whether I believed in God. Perhaps my words betray a fundamental misunderstanding of faith and intellect; I can't say.

As I look this over before clicking the "Publish" button, it occurs to me that a better answer may exist to such a question. Am I believer? What do my actions suggest?

I have to think about this. Now, however, it is Christmas; it grows late, and my wife is lying in bed asleep. I don't want her to wake up and find me typing at the computer instead of lying next to her.