I've argued in the past that god cannot make these things happen because such contradictions are basically linguistic nonsense. Though we can talk about a square with a circular shape, that's only because it's a quirk of how language works. If you accept that god can make a square circle, there's no reason to assume god could not make a red 3, or he could not make colorless green ideas sleep furiously. There's no way to express what that even would look like, and so failing to produce it doesn't represent a limitation on god's power, but simply a failure to express a real idea.
Do you think this a reasonable expression of this idea, or do you think a square circle is a real concept?
Look, a pan-dimensional, transcendent, omnipotent, omniscient, infinite being, who may or may not exist (for certain as yet undefined, and probably undefinable values of "existence") is surely beyond any considerations of what is, or is not, linguistically nonsense to finite beings such as ourselves. Assuming we exist, that is. (Well, you and I can agree that you exist. But what about me?)
It seems to me that these things are impossible to talk about without talking nonsense.
(A language in which I consider myself to be fluent, btw. But unfortunately it seems to be a language with an infinite number of regional dialects.)
I think ParkCungHee's way of seeing it makes sense. Borachio, I'm sure that God could do things that we can't conceive.
But it doesn't follow from that that any set of words we can string together describes something that God can do, because there are many sets of words that don't describe anything at all, because they're nonsense of the worst kind.
To put it another way,
perhaps there are some things that seem nonsense to us that God could do - because, as you rightly say, God is not bound by what we can imagine. Perhaps a square circle actually is possible, though we cannot conceive how, in which case God is not constrained by our claim that it's impossible. To that extent, I agree with you. However, this does not mean we should expect God to be able to do
anything that language appears to describe. There's an infinite number of statements, apparently describing possible actions, that are nonsensical, incoherent, or plain self-contradictory. I'm sure that an omnipotent being could actually perform some of these actions, simply because in fact they're not incoherent or inconsistent (it only seems that way to us). But it doesn't follow from this that he could do them all. There are many mathematical formulae that look like nonsense to me, because I'm not very good at maths, but which a mathematician can solve. It doesn't follow that any random string of mathematical symbols expresses a soluble formula.
I view Chomsky as a political hack and a pseudohistorian trying to grab attention for his tear-jerking polemics. I have never studied his linguistic views.
To keep this post relevant, let's ask Plotinus what he thinks of Chomsky's claim that Christianity was a force for the weak and poor, until Constantine made it into the church of "the rich, the persecutors, the privileged, the powerful," which it remained until the present day to keep the lower class placated.
My understanding of Chomsky is that he's primarily a linguist, so it's possible a little unfair to dismiss him for his extra-curricular activities when they're (theoretically) not his main thing. But that's pretty much the extent of my knowledge - that and my conviction that "Chomsky" would be a wonderful adjective.
On the claim, I think there is some truth to it. The pre-Constantinian church was, I think, primarily on the side of the weak and the poor, if only because few Christians were in positions of power. That's not to say they were all poor - they certainly weren't - but few were notably wealthy and very few were in public/political life. At the same time, I'm not sure how much the pre-Constantinian church actually did for the poor. They mainly looked after themselves - e.g. widows and orphans within the church were cared for by other church members.
In the fourth century, all of this changed, as we all know. Now there were many more wealthy Christians and Christians in positions of power, from the emperor down. However, this period saw the church do far more for the weak and marginalised. This is when the church started building hospitals and hostels for the sick and poor, as well as for foreigners; it's also when you start finding bishops who were basically political activists, such as Basil of Caesarea, who built the enormous "Basiliad" complex outside Caesarea to care for the poor and sick, and who preached scorching sermons ordering the wealthy to open their storehouses and distribute grain to the starving during times of famine. I don't think you find that kind of thing before the fourth century, when Christians had less ability to do it and other things to worry about. It's also in the fourth century that the church started taking over some legal duties from the state (this was Constantine's idea), so bishops would hear some civil cases, and the church provided free legal support for those who couldn't afford it. In fact many people converted to Christianity specifically to get it.
When Julian the Apostate became emperor, he recognised that Christianity had become so successful partly because of these kinds of things, and he planned to create pagan copies of them.
Now of course the church did soon start working for "the rich, the persecutors, the privileged, the powerful". It was also in the fourth century that the state started persecuting some Christians on behalf of other Christians, in the case of the Donatists and others. But it wasn't until quite a lot later that Christians in power started really persecuting non-Christians. (Even the destruction of pagan temples, which began in the late fourth century, was not nearly as comprehensive as you'd think - some were not only left alone but actively preserved because of their cultural and historical value.)
So I'm not sure, really, when one could plausibly say the church went over to the side of the oppressors. I don't think it was in the fourth century. And even when it did, the story was always more complex. People forget that "the church" doesn't just mean the Pope or the bishops or even the priests, or whatever. It also includes the laity. In a society where everyone (or as close as makes no difference) is a Christian, then the church includes those who are oppressed as well as those who oppress. I think that Chaucer's
General Prologue is a good reminder of this. He describes a motley bunch of pilgrims that includes a lot of ecclesiastical figures, who vary tremendously in their moral status - from outright satanic characters like the Summoner to worldly hypocrites like the Prioress, the Monk, and the Friar, to almost impossibly virtuous ones like the Parson. The Poor Parson and the Ploughman are just as much representatives of the church as the Pardoner.
So I suppose the real answer is this: after Constantine (perhaps a long time after Constantine), the church stopped being a small segment of society and became everybody. And when the church is everybody, it has the same diversity in morality, power, cruelty, and kindness, as human society in general.
Why do we have to worship God, or for that why does he expect us to worship Him?
A related question: what, exactly, does it mean to "worship"? It seems everyone has their own idea of what the word means, but what is the common thread, and when a person worships someone, what are they (or what do they think they are) doing?
These are interesting questions and they have not been much discussed. The only work I know of off-hand that's been done on them is
this paper (co-written by a former colleague of mine). Its conclusion is that there isn't really a good reason to think that worship could be morally obligatory - and that this itself may be an argument against God's existence, given that it's generally thought that if God does exist we have a moral obligation to worship him. Whatever that means.
(I'm not sure if you will have access to the paper - I hope so!)