Carrying On The Work Of Others

In some of my posts over the years (like here and here), I've written about the importance of thinking beyond our generation. We're often too focused on our contemporaries, pleasing them, following their (often false) lead, adopting their false priorities, trivial mindset, and other bad characteristics. We give some attention to future generations, such as when we're thinking about our children and grandchildren, and there's often talk about things like how we expect technology or the economy to develop in the future. Past generations are probably the most neglected in some ways.

The Time More Hoped For Than All The Centuries

"The inhabiter and founder of the heavens lived on earth so that the human person, the earth-dweller, might travel to heaven. O day more lightsome than all the sun! O time more hoped for than all the centuries! What the angels were waiting for, what the seraphim and cherubim and the mysteries of heaven did not know - this has been revealed in our time. What they saw through a glass and in mere semblance we perceive in reality." (Maximus of Turin, Sermon 45:1, Boniface Ramsey, trans., The Sermons Of St. Maximus Of Turin [Mahwah, New Jersey: Newman Press, 1989], 249)

Two Important Verses For Framing The Chronology Of Jesus' Childhood

The first is more commonly discussed, but is sometimes neglected. Matthew 2:16 suggests that Jesus was somewhat close to two years old when the events in the surrounding context occurred. See here, including the comments section, and here for discussions of the passage. The timing of the Matthew 2 events goes a long way in explaining why Matthew's material is so different than Luke's (the two authors are covering different timeframes) and addresses other objections.

The other verse to keep in mind, which is seldom understood or discussed as it should be, is Luke 1:56. See my post on the passage here and my explanation of some of its implications here, for example, among other posts in our archives that discuss it. Joseph and Mary probably went to Bethlehem during the first half of her pregnancy, not at the end of it. Luke 2:4 picks up where 1:56 left off. If you understand Luke 1:56 and its implications rightly, other issues in Luke and elsewhere will fall into their proper place, and some objections that are often brought up will be weakened or eliminated.

Eyewitnesses Of Acts' Events Living Into The Second Century

We're accustomed to framing timing issues in early Christianity around Jesus' life. He died in the 30s, so we think of a document written in the 60s as postdating Jesus' life by about three decades, for example.

But we need to keep in mind that many significant events, like the ones narrated in Acts, occurred after Jesus' life on earth. Acts closes with events in Rome in the 60s. Some people who were in Rome at the time surely lived into the second century, probably multiple decades into the second century in some cases. That diminishes the popular skeptical suggestion that individuals in the second century wouldn't have had firsthand knowledge about issues like the dating and authorship of documents, were just speculating about such issues without much to go by, etc.

I've cited Acts as an example here, and something else that's significant about Acts is its connection to the third gospel. The fact that people with firsthand knowledge of Acts' authorship and the circumstances surrounding it could so easily have lived well into the second century, and that some probably did, adds weight to the universal testimony from the second century onward that the third gospel was written by Luke. (And there are multiple sources who partially or fully corroborate that authorship attribution prior to Irenaeus, as discussed here.)

This distinction between the timing of Jesus' life and the timing of later events is also relevant in many other contexts: the suffering of the apostles, their martyrdom, apostolic miracles, etc. Always ask yourself what timeframe is relevant to the issue under consideration. Be careful not to assume the timeframe of Jesus' life in contexts that involve a different timeframe instead.

Gaining Interest For My Master

"When I ever hear a young person say 'I'm bored', my response to them was always 'I haven't been bored since 1978.' There is no reason to be bored in this world as a Christian. You have so much that you can and should be doing." (James White)

"We should all have work to do for our divine Master. True, our everyday labor ought to be so done as to render honor to his name, but in addition to that, every Christian should be laboring in the Lord in some sphere of holy service. I shall not enlarge, but I shall pass the question round to each one. 'What are you doing for Jesus Christ?' I pray each one here who makes a profession of faith in Jesus to answer the question, 'What am I doing in the work and service of the Lord?' If you are doing nothing, I pray you bewail your slothfulness and escape from it, for talents wrapped in napkins will be terrible witnesses against you….I do not think a man is doing all he can do if he is not attempting more than he will complete. Our vessels are never full till they run over. The little over proves our zeal, tries our faith, casts us upon God and wins his help. That which we cannot do of ourselves, leads us to call in divine strength, and then wonders are wrought….What is there worth living for, I say, beneath yon stars? But there is a something that makes it worth while existing and makes life grand and noble. It is this: if I may crown with praise that head which for my sake was crowned with thorns, if I may honor him who was dishonored for my sake, if to the manifestation of the glories of Jehovah I may have contributed a share, if at the reading of the records of all time it may be found that I put out my talent as a faithful servant, and gained interest for my Master, it shall be well." (Charles Spurgeon)

Living backwards

Time's arrow is one of the most pervasive features of human experience. It completely conditions our outlook. Moment by moment we move from the past into the future. That's the direction of cause and effect. 

But suppose we were dropped into a world where the next day was the day before. We wouldn't remember it because we hadn't experienced it yet. So memory wouldn't be a clue that we were moving into the past. If we went from March 15 to March 14, we'd remember March 15. Psychologically, March 15 would be indistinguishable from the past while March 14 would be indistinguishable from the present or future. 

So at what point would we catch onto to the fact that we were moving backwards in time? Things would age down, so that could be a clue, although that might not be immediately apparent, depending on the rate of change. 

That's assuming we were dropped into a backwards world from a world where time's arrow moves from the past into the future, so that we'd have that prior basis of comparison. But suppose we were never in a world where time's arrow moves from past into the future. Suppose we woke up as adults in a backwards world. That's where our experience begins. That's where our memories begin. That's our only frame of reference. 

Would anything seem incongruous about our experience of time? In that case it might seem natural for things to age down. It might seem natural for cherries to turn into cherry blossoms, then buds. It might seem natural for dead things to come back to life. It might seem natural for flesh wounds to seal up in minutes. It might seem natural for hair to grow shorter. It might seem natural for a broken glass to recombine. It might seem natural for a melted snowman to reconstitute. 

In that respect, certain kinds of miracles are like temporal reversions, by turning back the clock in that particular instance. Not necessarily everything, but a localized effect. Say restoring sight to someone who became blind from an accident or disease. Like going back to a time before the accident or disease took place. 

What's the basis for déjà vu?

Like many people I occasionally experience déjà vu. It's very disconcerting, like you momentarily become lucid enough to realize that you're living in a temporal loop. 

There are "scientific" proposals, which attribute it to a kind of brain misfiring. Perhaps that's correct, but to my knowledge it's just speculation, and speculation based on physicalism. There's no hard science to back up that explanation. 

I have my own conjecture, which may or may not be correct. Perhaps déjà vu is like a momentary out-of-body experience where the mind and the brain become unaligned for a few instants. 

There's also the way we normally process time, but there are situations where that can change radically. Take mountain-climbers who fall but survive. During the interval between falling and landing, the mind processes time at a different rate and they see a rerun of their lives. 

That's one of the mysteries of knowing what time is really like. We're normally so immersed in the temporal process and conditioned by the temporal process that we lack the detachment to analyze it objectively. But there are situations where the way the mind, filtered through the brain, normally processes time, breaks down. In that altered state of consciousness, the perception of time's linearity or uniformity is disrupted. That's disorienting. It's possible that if we continued in that state we'd adjust, sort in out, and experience the psychological passage of time from a different perspective. 

Notre Dame fire

I'll use the Notre Dame fire as a launchpad to reflect on some related issues. Why do many people become attached to handsome historic buildings?

One reason is that when you step into a building like Notre Dame, you step into the past. It's like a time machine. Not as good as a time machine, but since they only exist in science fiction, it's the next best thing. 

Humans take an interest in the past. We're born into an ongoing story, and many of us are curious about other times and places. So ancient buildings connect us to the past. And that has a certain counterfactual appeal. It appeals to our imagination: what if I lived back then? What was it like to be around back then? 

On a related note, it reminds us that human life is fleeting. People pass through the lifecycle but the building remains, It was there before you were born and it will still be there after you die. Walking through a Redwood forest can have a similar effect.

Depending on your worldview, that can be good or bad. If you deny the afterlife, then ancient buildings accentuate the insignificance of individual human lives. We're replaceable. Our absence, in death, is barely noticed. 

On another related note, many people have visited sites like Notre Dame. They have fond memories. And these are shared memories. It's like popular movies. A common frame of reference.

So buildings like Notre Dame connect us to other people across time and space. Finally, many people find Gothic church architecture edifying. 

At the time of writing I don't know the extent of the damage. Suppose the stained glass windows are intact. Then the damage should be reparable. It's a case of restoring the cathedral.

But suppose some of stained glass were destroyed. Then it can't be repaired or restored. At best, it can be rebuilt or replicated. Every square inch of the church has been studied and photographed. Of course, it would lose of the charm walking into a medieval cathedral. You wouldn't be stepping into the past, but stepping into a modern simulation of the past.

Why do a I mention this comparison? Because it parallels different models of the resurrection of the body. I don't mean the resurrection of Christ, where there's an intact body with minimal necrosis. 

If a human body has disintegrated, then it can't be repaired or restored, in a straightforward sense. And it's hard to see how the original parts can be reassembled. The atoms recycled into other things. They are now constituents of other things. They can't be removed and reallocated without destroying what they currently constitute. 

Mind you, even in the case of a living body, there's a turnover in the atoms, organic molecules, and cells that compose the body. A body is a dynamic system in flux. It's just that "solid" objects vibrate at a slower pace than fluid objects (as it were). The difference between solid and fluid is a difference in degree rather than kind. 

So it may be necessary to replace the old mortal body with a duplicate. Not even a strict duplicate. It will have some enhancements or improvements.  

Chronological time

1. Readers might find my title redundant. What other kind of time is there? Isn't time necessarily chronological? Depends on what you mean. 

Let's distinguish between chronological time and biological time (or physical time). According to Christian eschatology, God will rejuvenate believers at the resurrection of the just. The saints will have youthful, ageless bodies. 

Let's say the optimal age of a human body is 20. Strictly speaking, I'm not sure the human body has an optimal age. From what I've read, different body organs and systems mature and age at somewhat different rates. In glorification, the optimal age would have to synchronize these rates. For convenience, let's stimulate age 20.

So an immortal saint could be a billion years old, but have the body of a 20-year-old. Chronologically he's a billion years old, but biologically he's only twenty years old. Biologically, he stays the same age while chronologically he continues to age indefinitely. 

2. That parallels a distinction drawn by Philip Henry Gosse. Normally, physical and chronological time coincide, but Gosse had the insight to appreciate that, in principle and possibly in practice, these can be split apart. It's a profound insight, equal to McTaggart's distinction between the A-series and the B-series. The difference is that McTaggart is hailed as a great philosopher of time because he was an atheist, whereas Gosse is mocked because he was a creationist who devised and utilized his distinction to rescue traditional creationism. 

3. Finally, this involves a limitation on divine omnipotence. God can create a father who is biologically younger than his son, but God can't create a father who is chronologically younger than his son. For instance, God could rejuvenate Abraham, but refrain from rejuvenating Isaac. If so, Abraham would be biologically younger than his own son.

However, even an omnipotent agent can't make Abraham chronologically younger than Isaac because chronological time requires relative chronology. A father, to be a father, must preexist his son. It's a cause/effect relation, and the direction of causality, like time's arrow, is linear. 

I'd add that it's useful to recognize certain limitations on divine omnipotence because that's an important consideration in theodicy. There are some things even God can't do. 

Time's passage

We just see time passing in front us, in the movement of a second hand around a clock, or the falling of sand through an hourglass, or indeed any motion or change at all.

We are indirectly aware of the passage of time when we reflect on our memories, which present the world as it was, and so a contrast with how things are now. But much more immediate than this is seeing the second hand move around the clock, or hearing a succession of notes in a piece of music, or feeling a raindrop run down your neck. There is nothing inferential, it seems, about the perception of change and motion: it is simply given in experience. (Robin Le Poidevin, The Images of Time: An Essay on Temporal Representation (Oxford 2007), 76, 87.

I demure. Strictly speaking, we don't observe change. We see and hear things in the present. We remember the position of the second hand. We remember where it used to be. We remember that the clock struck four times. The apprehension of time's passage is a combination of sensory perception and recollection. We perceive moments as they happen. We don't directly perceive change. That's a necessary but insufficient ingredient. 

God and music

Suppose you think that God is the most perfect, or the greatest possible being. Then you might wonder: Isn’t timeless existence a more perfect mode of existence than being in time? Isn’t it greater for a being to be outside of time? If so, then it follows from God’s being the most perfect being that God is timeless. But why should you think timelessness a “more perfect” mode of existence than temporal existence? Consider, for instance, the enjoyment of music, which seems to be open only to temporal beings. Natalja Deng, God and Time (Cambridge 2019), 34. 

That's an appealing counter to the perfect being argument for divine timelessness. However, there's something ultimately unsatisfying about temporal experience–however enjoyable–precisely because it doesn't last. That gives rise to the insatiable desire to repeat a pleasant experience, or regret if a pleasant experience is unrepeatable. You never have enough. There's always an element of discontent. The pleasure peaks, then it's gone. 

So there are tradeoffs to temporal experience. It's good. A creaturely good. But it has distinct limitations. It's the only way creatures can experience anything at all. While it's good for creatures, would it be good for God? Would it be equal good for God? 

Put another way, there are different kinds of goods. What is good for God is distinct from what is good for creatures. And it's good to have a variety of goods. A world in which different kinds of goods are represented. 

Mature creation and illusion

The stock objection to young-earth creationism is that mature creation implicates God in a web of deception. Ironically, even Jonathan Sarfati agrees with that objection. But let's take a comparison: a major interpretation of the B-theory of time appeals to illusion:

Consider the following quote by Robin Le Poidevin:

We are indirectly aware of the passage of time when we reflect on our memories, which present the world as it was, and so a contrast with how things are now. But much more immediate than this is seeing the second hand move around the clock, or hearing a succession of notes in a piece of music, or feeling a raindrop run down your neck. There is nothing inferential, it seems, about the perception of change and motion: it is simply given in experience. (Le Poidevin 2007, 87)

[...]

We just see time passing in front us, in the movement of a second hand around a clock, or the falling of sand through an hourglass, or indeed any motion or change at all (Le Poidevin 2007, 76).

[B-theory] Illusionists think that we have perceptual experiences as of time robustly passing, even though time does not robustly pass. Veridicalists think that we do not have perceptual experiences as of time robustly passing, and that time does not robustly pass.

Some illusionists have turned to cognitive science to try to explain away what they think of as the perceptual illusion of the robust passage of time. One example is Laurie Paul (Paul 2010). Paul suggests thinking the perception of change and motion in a B-theoretic universe as analogous to perceptual illusions of change and motion. The illusions she has in mind include flipbooks, as well as our perception of continuity rather than a series of still images in movies. But her central example is what in the philosophical literature has become known as the color phi phenomenon. Here, a subject is presented with a series of flashes of a differently colored dot on opposite sides of a screen (red dot top, green dot bottom, red dot top, etc.). If the flashes are timed and spaced appropriately, the subject can have an illusion as of a single dot moving back and forth continuously and changing its color abruptly, somewhere along the trajectory.

Paul's idea is that we should understand the veridical perception of motion and change in a B-theoretic world along similar lines. Consider a change in an object O, understood as the B-theorist thinks of it: O has property P at t₁, and a different, incompatible property Q at t₂. When we perceive these tenseless facts, our brain "fills in" information due to its limited powers of discrimination. So what we end up perceiving (or having perceptual experiences as of) are tensed facts, namely, first, the object's presently being P and then the object's presently being Q and having been P. Life as a whole, then, is a kind of film, on this view. Because of that, we are subject to a constant perceptual illusion of robust passage. But when we are undergoing a color phi experiment, or watching a film, then we are undergoing a second perceptual illusion, in addition to that of robust passage, namely that of change or motion. In both cases, the brain "responds to closely spaced inputs that have sufficient similarity (yet have qualitative contrasts of some sort) by accommodating and organizing the inputs," thereby creating a sense of "animated change," which is change that involves robust passage (Paul 2010, 22).

[...]

For example, many illusionist B-theorists think that due to the pervasive illusion of robust passage, we perceive the world to be very different from the way it really is. Some even think to a significant extent, we project motion and change onto the world (Le Poidevin 2007). On such a B theoretic view, the appearances are deceiving – reality is rather less changeable and dynamic than it seems ordinarily. This is somewhat similar to the eternal present* view, in the following way. On the eternal present* view too, reality is very much unlike it seems, because the second temporal* realm consists of something like a single time* point – a single eternal present*. If this realm is more fundamental than our ordinary temporal realm, then this, in a way, is how things really are. In a way, temporality – in the sense of a succession of times, as well as of a past, present, or future – is an illusion. I've argued that this view of time can, to an extent, offer comfort in the face of loss even to atheists (Deng 2015).⁸

---

⁸ Shortly after the death of his friend Michele Besso, Einstein remarked: "Now he has also gone ahead of me a little in departing from this peculiar world. This means nothing. For us believing physicists, the division between past, present and future has only the significance of a stubbornly persistent illusion." "parenthesis". Should read as: "Illusion."

Natalja Deng, God and Time (Cambridge 2019), 12-13, 29.

The immediate point at issue isn't whether you agree with the B-theory of time. The point, rather, is that it would be anti-intellectual to discount the B-theory if it entails a perceptual illusion. The B-theory should be accepted or rejected if it's a better overall explanation regarding our evidence for the nature of time. It can't be ruled out a priori on the moralistic grounds that reality mustn't deceive us.

What is time?

Ever since Einstein, we're used to referring to the space-time continuum. It's often said that Relativity spatialized time. 

On the face of it, space seems physical in a way that time does not. Take an enclosed space like a basketball. Not to mention that finite space has measurable dimensions. Likewise, we move through space. So space seems to be very concrete. 

Mind you, pure geometry deals with abstract spaces. Likewise, dreams and video games have simulated space. 

But we don't move through time the way we move through space. In one respect, time appears to be physical. Physical states and objects undergo change. A temporal process. So it seems like time is a mode of the universe. 

Likewise, it's often said that God created time when he made the universe. He made the universe with time rather than in time. There was no preexistent time. 

However, human mental states are temporally successive. But if thoughts aren't physical, then the temporality of the mental process can't be physical, either. 

And even at the level of physics, there are theories of a cyclic or oscillating universe, where there's a series of cosmic births and deaths and rebirths. Even if those theories are false, it doesn't seem incoherent in principle to say that one universe would be earlier while another universe would be later. 

If so, then time can't just be a mode of the universe, since on that view it ceases to exist when the current universe ceases to exist, then starts anew when a new universe comes into being. But to speak of a temporal series of universes assumes an overarching timeline or relative chronology that transcends any particular universe, and carries through the changes. That's what makes the model sequential. 

However, it's possible to think of time as abstract. Take a novel or script. That has a plot. One thing happens after another. But unless it's enacted, the plot remains static. 

Perhaps, then, we should say a mental process exemplifies time, a physical process exemplifies time. On that view, time isn't essentially physical, but physical states and processes represent time or temporal relations (precedence, simultaneity, succession). 

What time is it?

There's an ongoing dispute between old-earth creationism and new-earth creationism regarding biblical chronology. Traditionally, many Christians regarded the days of Gen 1 as consecutive calendar days, although some church fathers viewed creation as instantaneous. Likewise, Jews and Christians traditionally regarded the world as a few thousand years old. 

Many Christians revised that interpretation in light of modern astronomy and geology. Atheists agree with the traditional interpretation, which they regard as evidence that the Bible is hopelessly errant. 

One problem with this debate is that it's simplistic. There are different kinds of time, different concepts of time. 

1. Physical time 

That's related to cause and effect, which has a future-oriented sequence. Physical processes instantiate physical time. 

2. Psychological time

When we dream, the dream world operates according to psychological time. The same applies to the intermediate state. 

Some Christians (e.g. Augustine, Berkeley) think time just is psychological time. I demure. 

3. Absolute chronology

Actual age, with a starting-point. Nothing prior to the starting-point. 

4. Period time

If a director makes a movie with a historical setting, like the middle ages, Victorian England, the Roaring Twenties, or the Old West, the movie set reflects period time. That dovetails with mature creation. It begins within a timeframe rather than having an absolute commencement. 

5. Ideational time

Apropos (4), a director may have a story about the Roaring Twenties, Old West, &c. The timeframe initially exists in the mind of the director. When he turns that into a movie, he transfers his mental image to the screen. Ideational time is referential in the sense that it tracks the plot of a story or narrative. 

6. Internal time

If a multiverse exists (or existed), then each universe has its own chronology. These are separate from each other. Compartmentalized. The timeframe of one universe isn't synchronized with the timeframe of another universe. If you could travel from this universe to a parallel universe, you won't enter the same timeframe you left. You might find yourself in the past or future in that parallel universe.

7. Sequential time

A novel or drama generally has a narrative sequence (although it may contain flashbacks). Time is static since it isn't real time but a literary representation of time. 

On a cyclical cosmology, there's a temporal series of universes.  

On a Reformed model of creation, creation preexists as a timeless divine idea. A master plan. God then transfers his idea to extramental reality. Ideational time becomes physical time. In that respect, Reformed metaphysics coincides with mature creation, although it doesn't entail mature creation. It begins wherever the plot began. That could be absolute chronology or period time. 

Time flies

i) Albert Heim was a Swiss scientist and mountaineer who survived a fall when hiking in the Alps. During the fall he saw his entire life pass before his eyes. That intrigued him, so he interviewed other mountain climbers who survived accidents, and they reported the same phenomena. This is technically called life review. Sometimes it's triggered by a near-death or life-threatening experience. 

ii) Life review illustrates the distinction or even the dichotomy between physical time and psychological time. A kind of time-dilation in which the sense of time's passage is radically altered. Where psychological time is uncoupled from physical time. 

iii) How is it possible for someone to see his entire life replayed in a few moments? My guess is that normally, psychological time is calibrated to match physical time so that we can function in a physical world. When our experience is filtered through the five senses, our sense of time's passage is synchronized with physical events. Imagine driving or crossing a road if psychological time was out of synch with physical time. If how you perceive approaching cars didn't correspond to their actual speed. That mismatch would be fatal. But in an altered state of consciousness, the mind is free to operate at its own pace, independent of physical time. Assuming this is a bona fide phenomenon, it may have some theological applications. 

iv) Suppose a Christian has a two-year-old child who dies when the Christian is twenty. Say the child goes to heaven. Then the Christian dies at 80. There's a 60-year separation. At least, there's a 60-year separation on this side of the grave. But is there a 60-year separation on the other side of the grave? 

Since the intermediate state is a disembodied state, it seems reasonable to conclude that the intermediate state operates according to psychological time rather than physical time. Perhaps years here may be minutes in heaven. Perhaps, when the parent finally dies, 60 years after the child died, it's like the child only had to wait a few moments to be reunited with his father or mother. He may still be a two-year-old. And the parent is young again, in a simulated, dream-like body. They might pick up right where they left off, only in a better situation. Of course, this is speculation, but if the rate of psychological time is independent of the rate of physical time, then that's possible. 

v) There's a prima facie tension between young-earth creationism and the fall of angels. Within the chronology of Gen 1-3, when did angels have time to be created and rebel, in order to tempt Adam and Eve? 

Genesis doesn't say how long after they were created that Adam and Eve were tempted. Was it days? Weeks? Months? Longer? Perhaps there's time enough on YEC chronology Or perhaps that's a reason to doubt YEC chronology.  

vi) But this also raises the question of how angels experience time. As discarnate spirits, angels presumably experience psychological time rather than physical time. 

Compresence

Many atheists take the position that the only evidence for something is empirical evidence. If something is empirically indetectable, then there's no reason to think it exists. Hence, there's no reason to think God exists, if he subsists outside the space-time continuum. 

Let's take a comparison. According to the B-theory of time, the entire timeline actually exists. Past, present, and future actually exist. I'm just going to use that for illustrative purposes. I'm not going to make a case for the B-theory of time, although there are some good philosophical arguments for that position. For discussion purposes, let's grant that the B-theory of time is correct. And that's neutral in terms of scientism or empiricism. 

Suppose I'm a high school student, sitting in the cafeteria during lunch. The student body undergoes a complete turnover every three years. My classmates occupy the cafeteria. I can see them from where I sit.

But suppose I have a visor that enables me to see the past and future. Let's say my visor has a split-screen. And I can tune it to a particular year, past or present. Through my visor, I can see the last student body and the next student body, in addition to the present student body. They occupy the same cafeteria. They are compresent in the same cafeteria. 

Without my visor, I can only see classmates in my own timeframe. I can't detect the presence of the other classmates, past and future, even though every student body in the history of the school actually occupies that cafeteria at lunchtime. 

Same thing for football games. When I switch on my visor, I can see teams from different years superimposed on the same field–like a montage, with chronological layers. I can see fans from different years superimposed on the same stands. The same space is filled with people from past, present, and future. All of them are actually present at that exact same site, yet those outside my timeframe are indetectable without my special visor. 

So even when it comes to the issue of physical presence, of physical entities which occupy physical space, on a macroscopic scale, they can be right there, beside me, in front of me, behind me, and yet be invisible, inaudible, intangible. 

Preexistent future

There's some dispute as to whether the B-theory of time is deterministic. On the face of it, if the future already exists, then that excludes alternate timelines forking off in different directions from the present. That interval has been filled. That slot has been taken. It seems symmetrical with the accidental necessity of the past. If it's now the case that the future is already in place, then that's fixed. A fait accompli. It's already happened–just not in the present. 

That doesn't necessarily mean it's deterministic in the sense that the past causes the future. But however the future eventuated, that's now over and done with. Someone in the present has yet to experience that preexistent future, but it's already played out. 

Paul Helm has championed the B-theory of time, mainly as a model for creation by a timeless God. A fringe benefit might seem to be how it dovetails with Reformed "determinism".

However, we need to be careful about that. Reformed predestination and providence isn't based on a particular theory of time. And that might actually be inconsistent with what makes the future determinate according to Calvinism.

Assuming that there's a sense in which the B-theory of time makes the future determinate (see above), that's based on the metaphysics of time rather than a divine plan. It could be random. 

In Calvinism, the future is determinate in the way a movie plot is determinate. The director has scripted the story in his mind. It has dramatic logic. 

But that doesn't mean things had to happen in that particular sequence. Indeed, it's quite flexible. In God's imagination, the present could fork off in different directions. It's just that God picks one of those hypothetical trajectories to actualize. What makes it determinate isn't that a particular series of events had to go together, but that God chose to instantiate that particular plot. God can imagine alternate endings, but he didn't reify those counterfactuals. 

Psychological time-travelers

Few things condition human existence as powerfully or pervasively as the experience of time. Metaphysically, we live in the present, but psychologically we are time-travelers who visit past (memory) and future (imagination, expectation). 

A happy childhood makes it more likely that you will have a happy life. On the other hand, if things go downhill after childhood, then a happy childhood can exacerbate a sense of loss. You mentally compare your happy childhood (if you had one) with your current situation.

Conversely, some people never overcome an unhappy childhood. That dogs them throughout life. 

Some people are very nostalgic about the past. They lament or resent how the passage of time robs them of the things they cherish. Forcing them to say good-bye. 

Some people cling to the past, not because they cling to this life, but because, as long as they're alive, the past was better. Their best years are behind them. incrementally, they've been losing the things that make life enjoyable or undoable. Helplessly they watch it slip away right before their eyes. 

At first they resent having to put those things behind them. And they cling to the past because memories are all they have left. But there can come a tipping-point where, having lost everything they most care about, they now wish to put everything remaining behind them. Get it over with. If they can let go of life, they are eager to let go of the past. 

Although the past colors the present, I think the future colors the present more forcefully. If you had to choose between an unhappy past and a happy future, or an unhappy future but a happy past, the future takes precedence over the past. For the past is behind us. We won't have to experience that again.  

If the future is dark, that casts a backward shadow which darkens the present–but if the future is bright, that scatters the shadows which otherwise darken the present. Whether or not we have something to look forward to conditions our sense of the present. Our view of the present is inseparable from our view of the future. Hope or foreboding? Dread or deliverance? 

As we pass through the lifecycle, we undergo chronic psychological adjustments. Our view of time changes because time changes our circumstances. How we view past, present, and future shifts with the shifting phases of life. 

Time in Genesis 1

From Vern Poythress:

How we measure time affects our assessment of the six days of creation in Gen 1. Within the order that God has providentially established, ordinary people usually do not worry about how to measure time, because many rhythms in time, such as the swings of a pendulum or the beat of the human heart or the movement of the sun in the sky are more or less "in time with" each other. But the six days of creation described in Gen 1 are unusual, because some of the rhythms did not exist until a later point in the sequence of days. The cycle of the greater light (the sun) did not exist until the fourth day. The human heart did not exist until the sixth day. The unusual character of the six days poses problems for how we describe the length of the days, and whether we are sure that the rhythms we now experience operated in exactly the same ways before the completion of the created order. This problem of describing length leads to cautions with respect to assessing more than one of the major theories, such as the 24-hour day theory, the mature creation theory, and the analogical theory. It also introduces caution with respect to the presumption in much of mainstream science that the same rhythms investigated today extend indefinitely into the far past. A simple affirmation of six days of creation is simpler and less definite than any of the theories.

Apple-bobbing

Choosing is paradoxical. In the nature of the case, choices are future-oriented. It's too late to make choices about the past. So we deliberate and decide with a view to the future.

However, our actions in striving to achieve the goal impact the very future we aim for. We're reaching for a goal, yet the act of reaching for the goal disturbs the goal. Like apple-bobbing, where the very effort to pick an apple pushes the apple way.  

So the future becomes a moving target. By perturbing the future, the future we end up with isn't the same future we began with.