The value that Michael eloquently described – “Wisest is he who knows he does not know” – is very real to all of human culture, religious or not. Call it humility, call it God – it’s the middle ground that must be established for building our relationships and religious tolerance.

“You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?- Matthew 23:33″

“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.- Matthew 10:28″

“The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.- Matthew 13:42″

“But he will reply, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from. Away from me, all you evildoers!’

28″There will be weeping there, and gnashing of teeth, when you see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, but you yourselves thrown out.- Luke 13:27-28″

I’ve seen a lot of evildoers by my own standards of evildoing and by what I understand Christ’s standards to be. It’s also my understanding that a lot of evildoing has its roots in genetic predispositions or a history of abuse or, ect. Apparently some of us human beings who have done evil will have our souls burned, which sounds a little more severe than living as an atheist. In fact, biblically I think God sustains us, so without his hand holding us over the fire as one would hold a spider (as an old american preacher so poetically put it) hell is the only possible reality.

And in response to this:
“As a Christian, I have faith in the validity of the Bible, just as I have faith that when I wake up tomorrow morning, gravity will still continue to keep my bed on the floor. I have faith in the existence of God just as I have faith that the roots of the 40-foot tall pine tree right outside my window are solid and deep and will keep that tree upright. When you think about it, we really place a lot of faith in things everyday. I’ve simply added religious faith to my list of ‘things I believe in.’”

Having faith in something you see demonstrated every day is entirely different than having faith in a spiritual realm or a god. That pine tree might fall over for you someday when the winds blow hard enough.

Also, here are some thoughts from the stand-up comic I saw last night (or what I can remember):

-Who wrote the first pages of the bible? Did God write those, and if he did, why did he announce everything he was going to do before he did it? “Let there be light” and then he did it. Who was he talking to? I mean, it’d be kind of anti-climatic if he created light and then went to his scroll and was like “and then I said ‘let there be light’ and then I created light.” I mean, I don’t go into my kitchen and say “let there be spaghetti!” and then start heating the water. Or maybe God created a little guy to take notes on what he was doing and then sent him back down to earth. Imagine that, he’s sitting there with a little notepad saying “ooh, and then he said ‘let there be light’ that sounds awesome, it’s going in the scroll!”-

Anyway, I know those are ridiculous jokes, but the many similar absurdities of the bible led me to stop trusting its validity.

You said, “Considering your upbringing, is it possible that you–when you were so young–created a reality for yourself in which you spoke to the God of the universe, and He told you when you did something right or wrong.”

You make an excellent point, once that merits a lot of consideration. Unfortunately, if your point is right, then it seems to me that there’s no way we can come to an agreement on any aspect of this discussion (if we even really could in the first place).

Let me explain my reasoning. If, as a child, the things I learned and had impressed on my young mind caused me to create a world where God spoke to me and told me His will, then it seems that you have created a world where you have determined that you “cannot definitively say if there is, or isn’t a god.” By your words (or at least, your words as I interpret them) then in theory we are dealing with two different “worlds” (or viewpoints). You have your world, as defined by your agnosticism, and I have mine, as defined by my Christianity. Theoretically, then, there either shouldn’t be an argument, or there won’t be an agreement to our differences. (I apologize if I’m taking your argument out of context–this is just what your words imply to me.)

As to your inquiry into why I believe what the Bible says: Part of my understanding of my faith is that there comes a point where it is simply that: faith. I don’t understand everything that the Bible presents, and I don’t always agree with aspects and interpretations, but to me, Christianity is an all or nothing thing. You either accept it all, or you don’t. (There are gray areas, of course–do I accept all of the CRC’s practices, or should I be following the Catholics? What about the Baptists? Lutherans? I’d talk more on this, but I think that would fall outside the parameters of this discussion at the moment…) As a Christian, I have faith in the validity of the Bible, just as I have faith that when I wake up tomorrow morning, gravity will still continue to keep my bed on the floor. I have faith in the existence of God just as I have faith that the roots of the 40-foot tall pine tree right outside my window are solid and deep and will keep that tree upright. When you think about it, we really place a lot of faith in things everyday. I’ve simply added religious faith to my list of “things I believe in.”

And in reply to Thomas: I agree 100 percent. In certain aspects, being a Christian is one of the most depressing things you can be. (And I’m also interested in seeing responses to the theory about hell–which is how I view it.)

How’s that for a statement?

Christianity exists because mankind -pardon my language- fucked up. I wish christianity didn’t exist. What’s more, I wish Judaism, Islam Buddhism, Hiduism,Taoism, etc. did dnot exist either. A perfect world is not one that is entirely Christian, much to the contrary, it is one where Christianity does not exist at all. Christ’s torture, death, and the far more historically disputed resurrection, are things that no true Christian wants to be real.

As cliche as it might seem, I am sorry for Mr. Georgioff that the world in which he was raised made the death of Jesus seem like something to be glorified. there is no glory in the sickening circumstances of his descent into death, but only in the resurrection that came three days later. Our God does not have an “obscene blood fetish”, as Mr. Georgioff so graphically put it. I cannot presume to know the mind of God, but personally believe that the Crucifixion was the most painful experience he has ever undergone. an He underwent it because someone needed to take the punishment we had earned.

On a final note, why has nobody yet mentioned the theory that the eternal torment of hell is simply the separation from God those who end up there tried to attain in their earthly lives?

In reference to the last post: Morgan, how do you make the original leap of faith to believe that your doctrine is correct? As an agnostic, I cannot definitively say if there is, or isn’t a god. But if there is a god, it seems ignorant to believe that we can translate “him/her/it” into some equation to be studied and understood. We are just blind-men trying to explain the characteristics of an elephant. This is a basic explanation of the human plight to understand god, except that it is far too simplistic and ignores the complexities and nuances of religion.

How do you have the initial faith to believe in Jesus? Is it because you can testify to what he has done in your life? Are you convicted by him? Here are some things to consider…
You said that you were “raised in the church”, that you were pious and faithful in following what your leaders and parents told you was truth. Your understanding of morality and truth was conditioned by what your parents believed. If you were trained as I was, you were taught to tackle Biblical inconsistencies by, “consulting the Bible, praying, and reading commentaries and articles” to better understand these topics. My question for you is, have you ever asked yourself why you believe that the Bible is the sole arbiter of truth? Is it because the Bible says it is? Have you ever objectively looked at the Christian faith?

It sounds like most people posting on this forum, were raised to have faith in the Bible even if they didn’t understand it. This is a cruel indoctrination for such young impressionable minds (I truly think that my parents were doing what they thought was best, and it has shaped who I am today; furthermore, I still hold that the ethics that Jesus offer are brilliant). Considering your upbringing, is it possible that you–when you were so young–created a reality for yourself in which you spoke to the God of the universe, and He told you when you did something right or wrong. I believe that after praying and meditating on this reality for so long, it now is your reality. You now accredit “God” for everything that happens. “God I pray that I will find my keys”, “God if it is your will, let me find a job”. You can easily write off God not answering your prayers by saying it either was, or wasn’t His will that it happened. Do you really think that you know what “God” wants? It is from these arrogant convictions that some of the worst atrocities have been committed: Crusades, Spanish Inquisition, Jihad, etc.

Why is it so necessary to pretend that we understand things that are out of our reach to understand. Why not accept our limitations on understanding something that we cannot see, hear, or touch. Cling to the philosophers credo that, “Wisest is he who knows he does not know”. If you think that I am that I am advocating for passivity in our quest for truth, you are absolutely incorrect.

As someone who’s still struggling to figure out just what the hell I’m meant to do with my life and just what I’m supposed to believe in, I find that the challenge of “[sifting] through the battlefield of biblical interpretation” to be both infuriating and extremely rewarding.

I’ve “grown up” in the church – I went to a private school, did all of the “good-little-Christian-group” functions available to me, stayed away from the “sins of the flesh” – the whole nine yards. And looking back, yes, for several of those years I was simply being led by the “all-knowing adults” around me. They told me what to do, and I did it.

Then I started questioning things. Was the universe created in seven days? (And yes, I believe it was. That may put me in the minority of academia, but there you go.) Was God created? Do we have free will? Just how does the Trinity work? And (since I was raised Calvinist) how can anyone who believes in a loving God believe in predestination?

The point of this little anecdote? I’ve experienced the struggle. I’ve tried to find the answers, and have been frustrated beyond belief when I can’t. I’d like to know everything, but I long ago realized that some things are beyond my understanding.

But for me, the struggle *is* the reward. Yes, I believe heaven will be beyond anything we can imagine. The journey, however, is just as monumental. I’m not rolling over and submitting to the church. To the contrary, I’m consulting the Bible, praying, and reading commentaries and articles about these topics. It’s how I handle my need to resolve some of the so-called inherent discrepancies within the church.

Perhaps I’m a glutton for pain. But the intellectual challenge of wrestling with these issues is rewarding to me. And I’d like to think that puts everyone who’s commented to these last couple of posts in the same boat. We’re all taking the time to use our (what I believe are God-given) minds to look at everything that’s being thrown at us day in and day out when it comes to religion, both on and off Whitworth’s campus, and we’re coming to our own conclusions.

And (getting back to the original point of this post) perhaps that’s another reason why a Whitworth student might reject Christianity (or conversely, why they might cling to it). They may find it easiest to reject everything Christianity has to offer (or cling to it blindly without considering just what it is they believe in).

Personally, I believe Americans are inherently lazy. (I know I am.) Anymore, it’s part of our social tendency to go with the flow. (Which is why threads like this are encouraging to me. There may be frustration on both sides, but at least everyone’s taking the time to thoughtfully *state* just what it is they believe.)

Before I address this, I want to amend my previous comment by adding what Grady already said. My main concern in life is not salvation, eternal life sounds unnecessary to me. If I’m sent to hell I’ll be surprised, but also angry at the injustice. Eternal suffering is not equal punishment for anything any human being is capable of doing.

Now back to your quote: my idea that a loving God would save me regardless is illogical and it does have ethical problems and I also agree with Ryan’s critique. That’s my underlying point.

Christianity itself has logical and ethical problems.

Of course I can believe that the Christian god would save me anyway. He’s the one who said “love your enemies and bless those who curse you.”

Of course, now you can tell me that punishment is a form of love, but if you really believe that the idea of hell has anything to do with love then you have to have a very strong “faith.”

God- “He who will do what He wills” is animalistic and scary. It doesn’t even make sense that I could, in any way, be a creation, much less be made in the image of, a being who nods in assent to old testament genocide or who fills an isolated man’s visions with images of a justly suffering world. Why is this necessary? Because we didn’t listen to some being that obviously does not speak to each of us, yet claims to know all of the hairs on our heads? Because we didn’t obey the laws that ONE person recieved alone on top of a mountain?

In fact, one of the few parts of Christianity that still makes any sense to me whatsoever, ironically, is “love your enemies.”

There might be some spritual truths out there, but the inconsistencies of the bible make it plain that it was written by humans with power or who wanted power.

If Christianity followed its own ethics and didn’t try to control the other cultures around it (Its only justification for doing this being the idea of hell)then it would make me less queasy.

I think there are goodish and evilish people in the world, most everyone I’ve met operates with similar assumptions. We judge public figures, we judge our friends. We have this moral compass. Some use this as a justification for God, but it also points to the humanity in our conception of God.

I would say that Nathaniel’s statement is weak because it assumes that the overarching truth of Christianity is that god loves humans. The Christian god, and even the figurehead of Jesus, is not one of love (the most horrifying descriptions of hell come from Jesus directly or in the subsequent books of the New Testament), but of barbarism.

I turn my back on this so-called “god” because his demands are strikingly similar to those of primitive humans. His methods of retribution are equally savage — culminating with the premeditated torture and sacrifice of his “son” in whose blood Christians revel and wash. The kind of obscene blood fetish the Christian god entertains ought to disconcert even the most inattentive audiences. These sacrificial elements are not peripheral to Christian doctrine; indeed, without the death of Jesus all of Christian theology would be rendered moot. I think we can all agree that the concept of human sacrifice was conceived by primitive societies thousands of years ago, in a chaotic age of discovery and trial. This raises the question: did god create humanity in his image, or — and this seems to me a much more compelling answer — is god the creation of humanity?

With these things in mind, it concerns me to hear Nathaniel make even that concession — “If the broad overarching message of Christianity is true, that God loves us, [then] my belief or disbelief should make no difference and I rest in that” — because the Christian god does NOT love you or I, or anyone else who refuses to prostrate at his mythical feet. And in any case I despise the very idea of that kind of deity, or of any kind for that matter. You said it yourself Kelly: to assume that god will save everyone on the basis of his supposed “loving nature” is wish-thinking and unbiblical.
_____________

As a secondary note:

I am still trying figure out your point with the “Atheist’s Monologue,” but thought I would comment on your rather confident explanation of what happens to people who never hear about Jesus.

You say:

“There is no reason to think that the billions who have never heard the gospel are automatically disqualified from heaven. First, God is just and only judges us by what we ought to know.”

IF you can summon a verse to defend this then you may be able to vindicate yourself. Otherwise you should seriously consider how stupid that is to say. Really? There is NO reason to think that the billions of people who did not confess Jesus Christ as Lord will not make it past the pearly gates? You demonstrate a deficiency in your theological education if you seriously assert this point, as it summarily contradicts the basic premise of Christian faith.

As Christopher Hitchens (to give proper credit) details in his book, at least Mormons — in spite of the disgusting practices of that particular cult — have gotten creative in answering this problem. They have aggregated a vast genealogical database in Utah and have begun distributing names of the unsaved (or wrongly devout) deceased to be baptized by “latter-day saints” nationwide. To the dismay of Jewish advocate groups, the grave-digging proselytes even acquired the names of holocaust victims in order that they might join the faithful in heaven.

If there were, hypothetically, one chance to reconsider your life after you die, and to reflect on death as it truly is, I cannot help but think that these fanatics would feel immensely stupid, as would all preachers and theologians — for wasting away their whole lives searching for the right way to heaven. Such devotion does not impress but, if anything, depress me, especially as I consider the intellect wasted on conjuring the many thousands of iterations of Christianity we now have today. How can anyone fairly be expected to sift through the battlefield of biblical interpretation and figure anything out? Considering that discovering and affirming this truth is ostensibly the key to salvation, it seems the odds are a bit unfairly stacked against us. That, I would argue, is not reflective of either love or justice.

About people who have never heard of Christ therefore not being saved. Christ is the only way to salvation, but the Bible is clear that those who lived pre-Christ are saved through faith in God just as those after are saved through faith in him (cf. Romans 4, which talks about how Abraham, pre-circumcision, was made righteous through faith). I think it’s safe to infer that anyone living after Christ’s resurrection who is in a cognitively similar situation (in the relevant sense–i.e., not having heard of Christ and thus having no opportunity to claim his name) is in the same situation as far as salvation. It is by faith in God that they are saved. There is no reason to think that the billions who have never heard the gospel are automatically disqualified from heaven. First, God is just and only judges us by what we ought to know. Second, Romans 1 tells us that creation makes plain the existence of God, and so everyone is without excuse.

I’m sure that’s a good way to make your own point of view seem logical by contrast to such “nonsense.” In my case, however, the stipulation is if god loves me + god is a being I would like to spend eternity with, then I will be saved.

And I support that belief on the backs of the billions of people who were not raised in a Christian society and therefore did not default into the faith like you and I did. That, it would seem, marks their eternal condemnation.

If, on the other hand, God is as you propose, then I will not only not be ’saved’ – I will be pleased with that outcome and will spend my eternity wondering how the hell you can sing such praises and kiss such feet.

I seem to hear something similar to this a lot from atheists: if God loves me he’ll save me no matter what. And I think that, besides being unbiblical (which by itself wouldn’t bother the atheist), it doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. It makes sense that one would want a sort of hope, in the absence of commitment, and I would be glad that the atheist had that safe-guard, if I didn’t think it was a false hope.

Immediately the genre that came to mind for getting across what I mean is an Onion-esque “Atheist’s Monologue” about this attitude. The following is very sarcastic, and for that I present it half-apologetically. I don’t mean to make light of something important, but I think this might be the way to get the point across. Here it is.

* * ATHEIST’S MONOLOGUE * *

If God is love like he says he is, he’ll give me a free pass.

What’s that you say? He has, in Christ?

Okay, well, see, I reject *that* offer, but… secretly I’m hoping he’ll give it to me anyway, even though I patently refuse it and even behave as though the one who offers it doesn’t even exist. If he’s really love, then of course he won’t take my refusal seriously and treat me like a rational human being with a free will, but will instead treat me like a helpless baby seal and force-feed me the reward which I freely reject—if he loves me.

See, I’m hoping this free will thing is really just a hoax, and that actually we’re just puppets in the end. Really, it’s a genius system: free will on earth may lead to all sorts of harm and suffering, but in the end it’s pointless because we’re forced to choose God anyway! So no eternal harm, right? That makes me feel really warm inside.

Meantime, I’m going to reject God’s authority and do my own thing. Give me a call sometime in the afterlife, God! (…even though I don’t think you exist.) If you did exist, you’d probably be someone tailored to my own personal whims. I may tell you “no” and refuse to talk to you or answer your calls, but you’ll probably eventually somehow bend space-time (or whatever) to make it such that I can both reject your offer and accept it at the same time. Kind of like magic.

Because if you really love me, you’ll eventually *force* me to give you love back. Sure, we have long prison terms for that sort of thing here on earth, but maybe the afterlife is different.

One can hope, right?

* * end monologue * *

Yes, I would phrase it this way. The only way I could stop praying was to stop. Until I stopped trying to pursue the spiritual as if it existed, the very act of pursuing compelled me to believe at least a little bit.

They say the reverse is true of Christianity, that obedience breeds belief. That scares me. I’d really like to know what I’m obeying, yet because of all the different biblical interpretations and even based off of the bible itself, in order to know what I’m obeying I have to accept that I can’t know him. So I’m left with my feelings, and my feelings have been messed up for a while.

If the broad overarching message of Christianity is true, that God loves us, than my belief or disbelief should make no difference and I rest in that.

It does sound like a cop-out to declare such a thing. That was not my intent, but you make a good point that we ought to try and appreciate individual, personal nuances. I can no more fully appreciate your experiences than you can mine. However, to give each other an opportunity to articulate those experiences seems like basic human decency (and common sense).

Cory:

Frankly, I am not here to understand the Christian argument. As I just stated, I value the individual-level dialogue if people are ready and willing to approach these deep topics with honesty, clarity and sincerity. I quite capably understand Christian arguments for faith. Does this mean that I am arguing to be right? Not precisely — I can only be so arrogant. I try to foster reasoned discussion, rather than just taking potshots here and there and implementing a few half-baked concepts from a book I read once (though sometimes I, too, fall prey to this inclination, which I find just as vile as the minister who abuses scripture by stripping it of context and utilizing it as a political tool).

“Why would a student reject Christianity? For the same reason a student would accept it. Because we asked the question, and we were willing to follow where it led.”

I am compelled to agree with you. The problem is that I sincerely believe that Christians (and people of all faiths) are not only being manipulated and misled, but also submitting their natural intellect to an antiquated form of spiritual faith. Therefore, I can not in good conscience consider these two vastly different responses to the natural data of the universe as mutually workable. That sounds terribly arrogant, but I know of no better way to put it.

The people who really care about this ask themselves the same existential questions. They are willing to put their beliefs on the line in favor of the truth. Who am I? What is my purpose? Why is there evil? When people do this, they are forced to come to one of two initial conclusions. Either God exists or he doesn’t. Those conclusions will obviously take the person down two different paths.

Grady, Ryan, you asked that question at one point and decided the argument is flawed. Kelly, you and I asked that question at one point and decided the argument is more clearly in favor of God than before we started. But what we all have in common is that WE. ASKED. THE. QUESTION. We all put our faith on the line. And the reason, Daniel and Ryan, that the apparant stalemate occurred is that its frustrating being asked to do it again. Once is terrifyingly hard enough.

Now that we’ve been through the process and drowned our brains in existential questions, we have a problem: how could anyone possibly disagree with us? Haven’t they asked the same questions as I asked? Didn’t their conclusions take them down the same road? What’s wrong with these people? And suddenly we use phrases in our arguments such as “you wouldn’t understand” and “it’s obvious” forgetting that one person is not the same as the other.

I mentioned earlier that many Whitworth students simply go with whatever opinion is easiest. I think that it’s possible that was the most ignorant comment I’ve made on this post. Who am I to say why students think what they think? Grady, Ryan, four years ago in high school if I’d have heard that you decided to abandon Christianity I’d have simply written it off as you being stupid and lazy. You know why? Cause I was stupid and lazy. Four years of rigorous education later I see that there is no way you come to this decision lightly. And I would hope you’d have the same appreciation for me. I’m not deluded, and you’re not immoral.

The stink of it is, one of us is right. Basic logic tells you that it’s impossible for God both to exist and not to exist. But what this whole debate has been lacking from both sides is an appreciation for what the other side has been through. Are you trying to be right, or are you trying to understand why the other side believes the way they do?

Why would a student reject Christianity? For the same reason a student would accept it. Because we asked the question, and we were willing to follow where it led.

“I do not think you can fully understand” is a wee bit of cop-out. Maybe I will never fully feel what you feel. But that doesn’t meant that I can’t *understand*, on an intellectual, theoretical level, those feelings if they’re properly communicated.

I may not be able to fully understand the full gravity of the Holocaust, but it would be mistake for those who do understand to not try to impart that knowledge to me.

The whole point of pluralism is to impart our experiences and values and beliefs upon each other — and let them duke it out — not to sequester those opinions with excuse that “you wouldn’t know.”

“Can you call it a useful debate if each side is given years to prepare and then neither budges an inch?”

Absolutely. A debate isn’t always about “winning” or even changing minds. It’s about refining viewpoints — testing them in the fires of people who disagree — and recognizing the complexity of the debate.

For me at least, this debate was enlightening.

“The reason I saw it as fruitless to add my story is because I don’t think any Christian could understand.”

Don’t be so sure. Many Christians have grappled with the same issues you have. Many have struggled and agitated and analyzed and poured through books and reasoning on either side. Many, have looked at the same evidence you have and come to a different conclusion.

Remember: You were once a Christian. You changed your mind.

Others could too.

“Some points I have not continued to pursue (free will is impossible in the natural system, therefore choice is an illusion, therefore notions like Responsibility, Decisions, Freedom and Moral Sense are as meaningless as weather patterns, since we have no control over them) because I sensed a stalemate.”

I guess this, more specifically, was why I was hesitant to add my voice to the fray. When it comes down to it, none of us is or really can be expected to demonstrate the patience necessary to both listen to each others’ full argument and then respond accordingly to each point. Many writers have ventured to do so, and the result is typically a book-length treatise. In many ways I would suggest reading some of those books (on both sides of the aisle, as I have) over trying to discuss these questions at length here. However, I also recognize (and am a prolific contributor to) the desire to delve into these topics and did my best to add my thoughts without being overly divisive.

I did not mean to single you out, but after reading your post and most of the comments following I couldn’t help but get the sense, as you did, of an inherent stalemate. Can you call it a useful debate if each side is given years to prepare and then neither budges an inch? The reason I saw it as fruitless to add my story is because I don’t think any Christian could understand. Frankly, I think this gives me the advantage.

You are fair in your indictment of many atheists as arrogant. However, I would say that the assertions of Christianity exceed those of atheism both in arrogance and repugnance.

I was a Christian until just 7 months ago. I have a theology minor. Though those credentials ought to be enough to convince the skeptic, I have more: I worked at Christian summer camp, led bible studies, helped to start a church in Portland, and my Christian experience was largely self-led.

I get it.

At the face of it, Christianity is not so bad. It makes some pretty bold statements about how the universe was created, but I will concede that you can still retain some Christian principles and read portions of the good book figuratively.

But what does it actually SAY? Well, depending on your interpretation, simply that you must extend an “empty hand” (a la Adam Neder), and accept the gift of the cross. The flip side? Reject Jesus’ “sacrifice” and go to “hell.” Again, this is open to interpretation, and the Arminians would argue that we all get to go to fun-land. Regardless, this is arrogant and extremely offensive for a very obvious reason, and concomitantly demonstrates that the bible is a work of humanity, not the other way around.

It is offensive for the very obvious reason that it would mean that God’s ultimate plan is for a small percentage of all human population in history to join him in eternal paradise, while the rest must reside eternally somewhere else in eternal torment. Again, bear with me… I am simply articulating the theological interpretations I am most familiar with.

To add to this doom and gloom, depending on your interpretation you may not ever be able to know if you are among the elect (that’s straight Calvin!).

The limitations of this view are to many to begin to account for, and I am tired from all of this writing, so I will conclude here for now.

Kelly:

I believe my invocation of Ockham was appropriate in context, but a bit confusing. This is only because I struggled with the wording (as anyone who has read Ockham can relate to), and that is also why I added Hitchens’ definition afterward.

It’s a great method debunking conspiracy theories (http://www.cracked.com/article_15740_was-911-inside-job.html), say.

It’s also a good tool for analyzing how people feel. Sure, I could come up with an elaborate series of convoluted reasons to explain away all the signs of disinterest — maybe she can’t return my call because she’s being held by terrorists! Maybe she’s playing really, really, really. hard to get! — but it’s a lot simpler to come to the conclusion that, hey, actually uninterested.

But it becomes problematic when we speak about theology and philosophy. The biggest problem is that some of the Mega Questions, consciousness, first cause, etc. are so mysterious as to defy the basic analysis. They already seem to be defying the basic empirical rules we use (the only realm is the physical, every effect must have a cause) so it gets a bit tricky to determine what is indeed simple.

Indeed, simplicity depends heavily on what premises you can accept and can’t accept. I can’t accept the notion that free will is an illusion, or that consciousness itself is a myth, Grady can’t accept the notion that an all-powerful, all-loving God would allow his creation to be subjected to such pain.

The same Razor cuts very differently when wielded in different hands.

It’s far better to simply say, “this doesn’t make sense/this does make sense” then to pretend the result of the razor is so freakin’ obvious that anyone could see it if they just *think* about it.

How so? I offered numerous reasons and observations for why Whitworth students have rejected the religion they came in with. I offered suggestions of my own, and encouraged others to add their thoughts.
I said: “After processing for some time, I believe these are many of the factors. Naturally, I can’t — and won’t — speak for your individual experience. But this is something, I think, worth exploring.”

You also said on your blog “real dialogue would be impossible given the cast of characters already involved.”

C’mon, man. How do you define “real dialogue?” In my definition there was a whole crapload of real dialogue going on. Heated discussion is not the antonym of “dialogue.”

Some of the points I had made, I believe, were missed. The fact that it’s difficult for an intellectual to be a Christian because the concept of faith is so contrary to the rational methodology, was taken to mean that all atheists are arrogant. (Plenty are, Hitchens being a prime example, but not all. Either way, I’ve observed a sort of aggressive pride in many atheists that they’ve abandoned the ‘folly’ of religion. This observation comes a little from Whitworth, but more so from reading thousands of Internet Forum Threads shooting withering barbs at “religious idiots.”)

Don’t pretend I’m so unreasonable as to preclude “real dialogue.” I’d argue we’ve delved deeper into apologetics and counter-apologetics in these two posts than I got in four years of Official Whitworth Education.

Some points I have not continued to pursue (free will is impossible in the natural system, therefore choice is an illusion, therefore notions like Responsibility, Decisions, Freedom and Moral Sense are as meaningless as weather patterns, since we have no control over them) because I sensed a stalemate.

Thanks for adding your thoughts, Ryan.

When I was relating the ease or hardship of Christianity vs. atheism, I was speaking about the demands each makes on a person. I’d suppose it’d be uncontroversial to point out that Christianity makes moral demands (“love your neighbor”; “take up your cross and follow me”) which atheism simpliciter doesn’t. You’re right that the absence of those demands leaves some sort of hole. We feel or know that there is such a thing as morality, so the absence of a moral authority leaves some work to be done to figure out one’s own take on morality. But that’s not imposed by atheism. As far as the theory itself goes, one could just as well be a nihilist and seek out no moral explanations whatsoever (though that may not psychologically be possible for most). Ryan, I don’t by any means deny that some non-philosopher atheists really labor to search out and ground their ethics (after all, I know Grady). I just meant that that’s not something imposed by atheism. It’s imposed by your own conscientiousness and desire for intellectual honesty—and I suspect that, if someday you turned theist, you wouldn’t turn off that part of your brain but would simply use it within a different framework toward the same end, as some Christians do.

About Occam’s razor: I’m not sure the razor is all that applicable to a person’s decision between theism and atheism. That’s because the value of the razor is in situations in which *all else being equal*, one theory is simpler than the other. You can’t just say “having no deity/spiritual realm is ontologically simpler than having a deity/spiritual realm” and call it a day. One reason is that each view is complicated in different ways. As you pointed out, an atheistic worldview does not supply easy answers to many metaphysical and ethical questions. Atheism is not just obviously simpler when it comes to explaining the origin of life or of matter, for example. So this isn’t clearly a case in which one view is obviously simpler, unless one removes from the equation all the relevant factors which make the choice an important one in the first place. Adding quantum theory to Newtonian physics is much more complicated and leaves all sorts of questions unanswered, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong; there are other relevant factors which need to be taken into account besides complication vs. simplicity. Parsimony only comes in at the very last, when all other means to decide have been exhausted.

Second, I think that probably there are very few instances in which a person actually believes, keeping all sorts of evidence in mind, that the existence and non-existence of God are equally probable. The issue is either just too complicated to reduce to probability—when keeping in mind the origin of life, morality, science, religious history—or else one has leanings either way by focusing on some aspects at the exclusion of others. But maybe you could prove me wrong: Do you hold that theism and atheism are equally likely, or do you think the evidence points to atheism?

(P.S. I kind of think that Occam’s razor is to the atheist as Pascal’s wager is to the theist. Each tends to argue as though the theory/exercise is more widely applicable and motivating than it really is.)

About faith: Well, contrary to your suggestion, I am not advising that Christians should abandon reason. If I were, I wouldn’t bother trying to discuss these issues reasonably—although, having given up reason, that self-contradiction wouldn’t be as bothersome to me as it would be to reason-adhering folk. [Smiley face] I think reason and faith can equally well become idols, worshiped for themselves, rather than the instruments they are meant to be. There is an element of perseverance and trust required to follow either reason or faith to the bitter end (philosophy provides ample evidence of how reason often seems to lead to absurdity, if you follow it all the way out). The difference, I think, is that reason followed to its bitter end is applauded by secular western culture (what a stalwart intellectual!), whereas faith followed to the bitter end is laughed at by secular western culture (what a dupe!). That’s why religious culture has to encourage faith: because secular culture denigrates it. Perhaps if Christianity had grown up in an eastern society which prizes paradox, it is reason which people would need to be encouraged to listen to rather than faith.

“When two explanations are offered, one must discard the one that explains the least, or explains nothing at all, or raises more questions than it answers.”

Consider Christianity indicted on all three counts.

“Moral of the story: Apostasy isn’t the only way to avoid the ills of religious life, though maybe it’s the easiest. It’s harder to try to work within a body which consists of imperfect, even embarrassing people—with the world looking on, pointing out our shortcomings, seeing our failures as the failures of our God. It’s harder to protest the finger-pointing and prejudices from within—not to quit the game, but to play it by different rules… Maybe that’s part of why some people jump ship. It’s easier to have a set of beliefs which makes no demands on you, so no one can call you a hypocrite.”

Now I cannot speak for anyone else, but does this argument not make some absurd points? First: that a primary reason for leaving religion is because atheism is easier. I am the first to affirm that yes, rejecting Christianity was liberating and I no longer have to give myself headaches trying to reconcile dogmatic certainty with reality. The flip side of this new, “easy” life is that suddenly ethics, morality, and ultimately all of life is suddenly yours to command; this is, frankly, terrifying. Make no mistake in assuming that my life is free of the moral and ethical quandaries of the self-proclaimed pious, or that apostasy has led to the kind of moral transgressiveness depicted by fear-mongering clerics. If anything, I feel infinitely more responsible for my own actions, because there is nobody there to take responsibility for me — nobody left to scapegoat. By contrast, the typical Christian life is much easier… and, if the “leap of faith” can be made, a theoretically more rewarding one in the end.

However, even presented with the promised treasures and bounty of the afterlife, I choose the easy, reasonable, real option, and I do so unapologetically. It is much easier to show, for example, that Christianity is indelibly a product of near-eastern mythology, and that comparisons between gods, “messiahs,” and miracles in the religions of other primitive societies are not difficult to identify. Those familiar with Ockham’s razor will find it difficult to refute his argument that when presented with two competing explanations, one must accept the one with the least contradictions or problems — essentially, that which is simplest.

I realize now that I am treading in territory that the religious dare not go, a place where doubt and dismay cannot be avoided. I daresay that one could not possibly approach science with honest, unadulterated inquiry and conclude on that basis that faith is the most reasonable option. And here we must turn to the greatest of intangible arguments: faith.

Faith in the completely absurd and irrational is perhaps the hardest thing one may seek — of this I am well aware, as many Christians have somehow turned this lack of rationality into a merit of faith — but is this really the kind of argument you want to use Kelly? Asking people to deny their natural inclinations and reason on the basis of faith is not exactly an ideal marketing pitch. Telling them that doing so means having “demands” set upon you (as you imply above) seems even more counterproductive.

Ultimately, there are abundant counterpoints and defenses on both sides of the argument. What it ought to come down to, in my opinion, is whether or not you ascribe to what The Bible (or, more abstractly, any religious text) explicitly states. Your comment — “It’s harder to protest the finger-pointing and prejudices from within—not to quit the game, but to play it by different rules…” illuminates the self-evident problem with modern Christianity (the kind commonly practiced by Whitworth students) in particular. This finger-waving “don’t lump me with them” kind of theological retreat only produces an incredibly weak argument, since reinterpretation of explicit verses compromises the claim of all Christians: that The Bible is, literally or “*”, the Holy Word of God. And, of course, this Bible is the basis of everything (or so Christians would have you believe).

I use the asterisk to denote another problem of modern Christian doctrines. I feel confident enough in the intelligence of my Whitworth peers to argue that few students truly think that the cosmos — including tiny little earth and tinier homo sapiens — was created in six days. I doubt you would find this taught in any theology classroom (though perhaps with a few exceptions) at Whitworth, and it is unlikely (except for perhaps at some Baptist or other more conservative/absurd denominations) that I could find a pulpit in this region where such a doctrine would actually be taught. Even so, this point is significant when it comes to the reading of biblical literature of all kinds. If Christians can freely compromise the Genesis 1 creation account of “Moses” — which is only one of two discrepant accounts of human creation in the Old Testament — as figurative, then why believe the later, equally outlandish claims of the New Testament? If the basis for this compromise is that science has shown that a six-day creation is an absolute absurdity, then why reject the accompanying implications of that scientific research? This demonstrates selectivity at its finest — accepting only science that may fit within Christianity’s admittedly narrow worldview, and simultaneously revising a “divinely-inspired” work to try and maintain its relevance.

So yes, Kelly, I accept your assertion that part of the reason (and in some ways, the whole reason) someone might reject the concept of “faith” in religion is because atheism is easier. However, this statement lacks nuance and I have tried to articulate those nuances here as clearly as possible.

POSITIVITY: David covered this one pretty well. Whether one focuses on the good or bad in life varies by person within each belief system. A Christian might focus more on God’s love and salvation, or more on humanity’s depravity. An atheist might focus more on progress (this seems to be your focus), or could be a nihilist. You’ll find half-full and half-empty attitudes anywhere on the spectrum.

AVOIDING DISTASTEFUL PEOPLE: Come on, this one’s silly. The spectrum of people who have claimed Christ’s name is so broad as to include many contradictions; you can’t be seen as endorsing them all. I suppose it’s plausible that by distancing oneself from Christianity, one could avoid association with several unsavory characters, but by that same token one would also part company with the likes of Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr. (unless you introduce another standard besides religious affiliation, which would render avoidance-through-apostasy unnecessary). I don’t think it’s any secret that the way to avoid association with people is not to be like them; it’s *not* to try to get rid of whatever irrelevant categories you have in common.

MORAL SENSE: David already pointed out that this question is very difficult to answer on a naturalistic view. Specifically, it’s hard to motivate. You can talk all day about how much better it is for humanity to all behave ourselves, but when push comes to shove what makes me obligated to other people? The fact that it’s generally better for me? Well, what if, in this specific instance, it would cause me a lot of pain to do what’s considered right? No amount of fuzzy feeling for the human species is going to be a strong enough motivator (either psychologically or in terms of conferring obligation) in cases like that. Or you could go the deontological route of rights and duties. Each person has a right to life, etc. But what confers this right? Surely it’s not the simple fact that I’m alive already (that would be to commit the naturalistic fallacy). On the other hand, Christianity introduces a telos which allows for virtue ethics. One should be honest and chaste because that is how we’re made to function best. If that’s the case, it really is better for me every time to choose the good—even if this means temporary pain or sacrifice—because good is what I am meant to be, what will fulfill me and make me happy. And I wouldn’t make too much about its being difficult to figure out what will please God. His commandments for what to do are pretty clear, and a little life experience will help one see how best to do them. (Not that it’s easy to do what’s right; but knowing the right thing to do is almost unavoidable, even if it’s hard to figure out the logistics in a particular case.)

NO DOGMA OR RITUALS: Yes, it is disheartening how relatively small differences separate groups of Christians, but I’m going to be my optimistic self and submit that they don’t have to. I can respect and learn from a Catholic without compromising on my belief that the Catholic Church has sometimes endorsed immoral actions (something a Catholic can’t agree with because of her views on church authority).

Moral of the story: Apostasy isn’t the only way to avoid the ills of religious life, though maybe it’s the easiest. It’s harder to try to work within a body which consists of imperfect, even embarrassing people—with the world looking on, pointing out our shortcomings, seeing our failures as the failures of our God. It’s harder to protest the finger-pointing and prejudices from within—not to quit the game, but to play it by different rules. The truth is, all but a few saints are an embarrassment to the faith in some way or another. I sometimes think that if people could read my thoughts, they’d laugh at my claim to be a “little Christ.” But then the New Testament doesn’t pretend that we become sinless when we become Christians. That can be hard for the world to understand, I think. Maybe that’s part of why some people jump ship. It’s easier to have a set of beliefs which makes no demands on you, so no one can call you a hypocrite.

On the other hand, if I compare a Christian to Bush or Cheney, that Christian may have trouble taking it as a compliment – and even more trouble pointing out the differences. Basically, Bush and most Christians differ in their interpretation of a manuscript but are otherwise bound to the same worldview. And I, personally, found that it made me feel more than a little trapped (not with Bush specifically, but with distasteful theists in general).

So of course everyone should be judged individually, but in the context of my post I think it makes sense to point out that motivator.

Regarding science: atheism is the belief that the proposition “at least one god exists” is almost certainly false… at least if we share an understanding of what “god” means. If “god” is an intelligent designer, then yes, I argue that naturalism makes more sense when we look at how humans are put together. There are many, many flaws (forgive me for begging the question there!) that might make sense in the context of ‘God decided to downgrade Its creations due to the Fall,’ but I fail time and time again to make sense of that argument.

Thing is, the ‘God’ explanation is not falsifiable. It could be used to explain any and all possibilities, which renders it an incredibly weak argument with no true explanatory power, as far as scientific thought goes. And although none of it proves the non-existence of God – I don’t hold to that belief – it contributes to making it a very unlikely scenario.

I appreciate your willingness to engage with these ideas, of course. If we’re going to discuss any of these ideas in great detail it should probably be in a separate post [smiley wiley face]

Regarding positivity/negativity, I know a lot of Christians who come from the perspective of ‘this is a broken world, and it will never be truly fixed until Jesus comes back.’ Obviously not everyone subscribes to that view, but it’s represented even in Core 350 and it seems to be pervasive at Whitworth.

Other than that – your answers to Jerod are essentially the things I would have said.

Your comments about atheistic morality (”might makes right”) indicate a lack of understanding of certain perspectives. I like David’s answers, for the most part, but consider ethics as a scientific pursuit. If we’re trying to understand an objective phenomenon that regards how to make a better world – where everyone can live more fulfilled lives, perhaps, or where we all have the freedoms we deserve up to the point where our actions infringe upon others – it may be complicated, but it makes more sense than punishing people for victimless crimes as some religions suggest… from the point of view I present.

The last post had a lot of philosophy discussions, which I don’t understand as well and therefore stayed out of the debate. What really got my attention about your post, and what I’d really love to discuss, was the science at the end of your post. You don’t seem to have a point to this either other than to suggest that religion doesn’t make sense when compared to science. For example, you ask “Why does the human eye have a blind spot?” Because the optic nerve, which connects around 1.1 million nerve fibers from all the photoreceptors in the eyeball, has to have a path out of the eyeball into the brain. This path is where the blind spot occurs, because you cannot have a photoreceptor and a hole for the optic nerve occupy the same area at the same time. That’s the answer. Now I ask you, what point are you trying to prove? Are you saying if the eye had a different schematic that suddenly God makes sense?

You are exhibiting one of the least talked-about biases held at Whitworth: that science and religion are mutually exclusive. Few people at Whitworth truly understand science, but many assume it’s the biggest weapon against religion. In four years of studying and one year of teaching science I have grown increasingly closer to the realization that there is no gap between science and religion.* If you have any examples you’d like to share to counter this, I’d be happy to hear them.

You say “advances in [science] provide so many answers to so many questions.” You are absolutely right. But none of those answers are “therefore, there is no such thing as a God.” You seem to think these answers exist.

*Just off the top of my head, here are a few topics that tend to be used at Whitworth as an argument separating God and science, whereas I take the opposite stance:

–Development and growth of the nervous system In utero.

–The cycling of matter and nutrients within the biosphere

–The modern definition of evolution following the discovery of genes and DNA

Positivity: While there are some negative ideas and messages in Christianity, it is first and foremost a “doctrine of love”. There are many pessimistic attributes to it, but most Christians I know are very enthusiastic and optimistic about their faith.

“All the atheist has to figure out is ‘What on earth is morality, and where do ethics come from?’”

This is a much greater challenge than it may seem, especially since it has to be objective. We can try to use ethical approaches like consequentialism and deontology, but they still seem lacking. I think that Jerod also has a strong point in that one person’s ideal standards will often not match another person’s. While religious morality, in the form of doctrine, might be considered unhelpful in many cases, atheism provides no more help.

“Nothing binds an atheist to a particular, unified set of beliefs.”

That is also one of the downsides to atheism and non-religious beliefs in general. The unity provided by the church is appealing for many people, as they can share in their beliefs, joys, and struggles. I know some Christians that go to church for the social aspect of it, and many people enjoy rituals, such as prayer.

“Why does the human eye have a blind spot?”

That question can also be easily explained in Christianity, such as it was a consequence of the fall or that humanity was never designed to be perfect physically. Answers to tough questions provided by science are hardly exclusive to atheism, and as long as one doesn’t take the bible completely literally, can be applied in Christianity. I would argue that atheism brings up more questions than it answers, such as “how did we get here?”, or “what is my purpose in life, if there even is one?”. These questions are answered in Christianity, perhaps unsatisfactorily by some people’s standards, but answered nonetheless.

Jerod:

Neither Stalin’s and Hitler’s rises were in atheistic/naturalistic societies; both Germany and Russia had a majority of Christian believers. Hitler was also a Christian, though perhaps not a devout one, and while Stalin was an atheist, he never committed atrocities in the name of atheism.

Your point that there is no standard by which a secular government can be established is also flawed. America was originally created as a secular government, and it has hardly become a society where “might is right”. It has become somewhat Christian through the influence of its members, but that’s a different point.

“While it is true that perhaps an intellectually dishonest atheist (more accurately an agnostic) might not feel bound to a particular set of beliefs, true atheism implies and demands a rather rigid worldview.”

Atheism is actually nothing more than the disbelief in God/gods.

“The fact that it is devoid of a deity doesn’t make it any less a belief system.”

Not all philosophies are a system of beliefs, and in fact complete agnosticism is devoid of any belief. Naturalism, a type of atheism, is a set of metaphysical beliefs which could be considered a “belief system”.

“Darwin himself feared the eye, going so far as to say…”

That’s actually a quote taken out of context, as the sentence after that explains how the eye might have come about as it is present today. See http://www.talkorigins.org/indexcc/CA/CA113_1.html

“it is difficult to explain how the cell could have evolved piece by piece when to remove even one piece renders the cell non-functional.”

I don’t really feel like turning this into an argument about evolution/irreducible complexity, but I will say that cells don’t evolve “piece by piece”.

“There are certainly some oddities about the body, but to suggest that a few odds and ends that we can’t explain necessarily imply an atheist universe is naive at best.”

That’s not what Grady’s saying at all. He was saying that certain physical questions about the universe are more easily explained with a naturalistic worldview, which might lead a Whitworth student to believe it’s a more tenable philosophy.

“All the atheist has to figure out is “What on earth is morality, and where does ethics come from?” And sure, that can be challenging. But rather than thinking of what we need to do to please a watchful deity in the sky, we think about how to make the world a better place.”

-The essential problem with this is that everyone has a different opinion on what exactly ‘a better place’ actually means. Even on Whitworth’s campus you’ll find different ideas: some feel that the world would be a better place if everyone were Christian; others feel that the world would be best if there were no ethnic tensions; still others cling to the view that the world would be happy-happy joy-joy if we’d get rid of all those annoying religions. Who or what is to say which of those views, or which of countless others, is truly the best? From a naturalistic point of view, there is no standard against which to judge. Inevitably it will come down to some form of ‘might makes right.’ Whoever can get the most people to listen to him or her, whether through persuasion or force, will be the one whose ideas about how the world should be will win out. History shows this to be true – in atheistic and naturalistic societies, one powerful leader eventually rises to the top, and tragedy invariably follows. Hitler and Stalin would certainly be two prominent examples; there are many others.

“Nothing binds an atheist to a particular, unified set of beliefs. Nothing tears them apart and causes strife over interpretations or practices. Isn’t that nice?”
-You are mistaken here. While it is true that perhaps an intellectually dishonest atheist (more accurately an agnostic) might not feel bound to a particular set of beliefs, true atheism implies and demands a rather rigid worldview. The fact that it is devoid of a deity doesn’t make it any less a belief system.

“It makes everything seem less complex – at least to someone who holds that perspective, like me.”
-You mention that the eye has a blind spot, and then jump to a statement about non-complexity. I would caution you about making sweeping statements about the non-complexity of nature. Darwin himself feared the eye, going so far as to say “To suppose that the eye, with all its inimitable contrivances for adjusting the focus to different distances, for admitting different amounts of light, and for the correction of spherical and chromatic aberration, could have been formed by natural selection, seems, I freely confess, absurd in the highest possible degree.”
And even discounting that, the issue of irreducible complexity is one that naturalism has no answer for. There are hundreds of examples of irreducible complexity in the world around us, one of the more foundational being the cell. The cell is made up of dozens of independent systems, each of which requires (requires) all the others in order to function. There is no room for an evolutionary system when it comes to irreducible complexity – it is difficult to explain how the cell could have evolved piece by piece when to remove even one piece renders the cell non-functional.
There are certainly some oddities about the body, but to suggest that a few odds and ends that we can’t explain necessarily imply an atheist universe is naive at best.

Again, that’s just a few thoughts. I would posit a question for you, if you (the author, or, I suppose, anyone) are reading this: Do believe in the concept(s) of good and/or evil?