I raise this point because many christians will insist that our propensity for belief, the fact that most people, across all cultures, both today, and throughout all of human history, have professed belief in a god, somehow serves as evidence to the existence of god. The idea is that deep down we’ve been created by god in such a way as to seek him, and our near universal predilection for belief in a higher power testifies to this point.

And yet, if we acknowledge that any self-ware entity will always question the improbability and absurdity of existence, surely our own questioning tells us absolutely nothing about the reality of god. The crisis of consciousness demands that we seek an explanation for why we are here, and as we grapple with the nonsensical, many of us will solicit an explanation from outside of time and space: god. This is not evidence that god exists. It is exactly what we should expect of any conscious entity staring into a starry night sky.

In a post last week titled Environmental warriors on a religious crusade?, Trevor expresses surprise “at the religious zealousness of some environmental activists”. Although not explicit within the post, statements such as “science does not control the world”, and “just and true are your ways”, suggested that there was a divine purpose behind our environmental degradation, and in the context of a fallen world, the events shaping these outcomes were largely beyond our command.

This notion was reinforced via a follow-up comment from Trevor:

Global warming is a consequence of increased CO2 emissions that reflect human waste, exploitation, materialism, greed and self interest. In other words sin - which the Bible teaches is a consequence of mankind’s rebellion against God.

I was concerned by this position, for at the heart, it suggested that environmental degradation is little more than a consequence of human rebellion against God, and therefore, the way to restore the environment is to restore our relationship with God. I am concerned by this idea for it has the potential to lead people away from consideration of practicable solutions to environmental care (e.g. favouring prayer over the use of science and education as a way of fostering the health of the planet). I responded as follows:

You could remove all sin from the world tomorrow, and the net effect of over 6 billion christians going about their god-focused ways would still degrade the environment. You don’t have to be greedy, materialistic, or self-interested to negatively impact the environment. In fact the surest way to hurt the environment is to follow god’s command of “be fruitful and multiply”.

Trevor does not accept my argument, positing that the claim “we can produce sufficient food… with less exploitation of the planet” is somehow proof that our environmental condition is “all about human selfishness”:

The evidence concerning the way humanity has used and shared (or abused and not shared) its resources, suggests that we can produce sufficient food on the planet and that we would have sufficient energy etc with less exploitation of the planet. So I can’t accept your argument on purely rationalistic grounds. As well, I stand by my comment that I believe that it’s all about human selfishness, greed, exploitation, pride, power, sin and rebellion against God.

I seek to clarify my position as follows:

Trevor, i agree that environmental degradation could be reduced if greed, selfishness, and other sins were eradicated, i also agree that we could feed the world more effectively if we could abolish the sins that stand in the way of a more equitable distribution of money and resources; however, i do not consider it possible to feed, clothe, and charitably sustain, the lives of over 6 billion (even sinless) people without ongoing detriment to the environment. We may be able to feed the world, but this comes at the cost of desalination, deforestation, loss of biodiversity, a depletion of non-renewable resources, and other environmental hurt. I am arguing that environmental degradation is not entirely the result of human sinfulness. It is without doubt, partly driven by our self-centred ways, but it is also partly a logical consequence of too many people in a closed ecosystem. In recent months i’ve heard several christians make a claim along the lines of “Humans can’t change this planet, only God can. He created it, he sustains it, and only he can change it.” This claim is not empirically defendable, nor is it responsible. I’m not suggesting this is your position; i am simply saying that our choices, even god-centred choices, have the potential to irreparably damage the planet on which we live. The sheer scale of our growing population renders this a certainty. We may be able to improve our position through scientific research, community education, and the adoption of many christian principles; but we should not forget the importance of family planning. It’s not just about sin. The numbers do matter.

At first glance, many christian teachings appear consistent with principles of environmental protection, and yet concerns begin to emerge when we dig a little deeper. Take the following:

1. The idea that we can solve all of the environmental issues facing this planet simply by turning back to God has the potential to divert our attention from consideration of practicable solutions to environmental care.
2. The idea that god is sovereign, and “just are his ways”, implies that any attempt to rectify our current condition is tantamount to thwarting god’s sovereignty; and by attempting to improve the world by our own hands, and of our own fruition, we are demonstrating our pride and arrogance.
3. When crippled by the notion of god’s sovereignty, the idea that we are stewards of the earth (an otherwise commendable thought), is diminished to the point where we become mere “observers and commentators” rather than “actual workers that shape the state of the planet”.
4. The idea that the word of god is perfect allows us to justify an ever growing population in light of the command to “be fruitful and multiply”, when in reality, there is possibly no greater threat to the environment than the sheer size of the human population.
5. And finally, the idea that Christ’s return (the best possible day in the life of a christian) will not occur until life on this planet is precariously close to extinction promotes the willful acceptance of some christians that the gradual destruction of this planet should be allowed to quietly proceed to its conclusion (if not actively encouraged).

These are some scary thoughts indeed.

I will start with a general observation: in the first half of the book, the questions thrown at christianity are typically presented in a philosophical rather than empirical context. This allows Keller to force the dialog along one of two paths: 1. the antagonist is either charged with submitting a relativistic claim, or 2. they are obligated to admit special access to universal truth. In the event that we assume relativism, any argument against christianity can be dismissed, for it is rendered as nothing more than an alternate personal perspective. In the event that we appeal to universal truth, the argument (which is positioned only in a philosophical context) is deemed to be nothing more than an alternate and indefensible faith claim.

It’s interesting to note that although Keller clearly believes in the concept of universal truth, he frequently relies on the principle of relativism to defend christianity. Here are two examples:

To reject the bible as regressive is to assume that you have now arrived at the ultimate historic moment, from which all that is regressive and progressive can be discerned. That belief is surely as narrow and exclusive as the views in the bible you regard as offensive.

In one of my after-service discussions a woman told me that the very idea of a judging God was offensive. I said, “Why aren’t you offended by the idea of a forgiving God?” She looked puzzled. I continued, “I respectfully urge you to consider your cultural location when you find the Christian teaching about hell offensive.” … Why, i concluded, should Western cultural sensibilities be the final court in which to judge whether Christianity is valid? I asked the woman gently whether she thought her culture superior to non-Western ones. She immediately answered “no”. “Well then,” i asked, “why should your culture’s objections to Christianity trump theirs?”

These passages mute any attempt to critique christian beliefs. A skeptic is forced to claim privileged access to the truth, at which point skepticism is construed as akin to religious faith; or alternatively, to admit that they are offering a divergent perspective that is neither right nor wrong, and as such, incapable of contradicting opposing views.

This is a clever, but ultimately unfair, approach. A more discerning technique would be to position the conversation in a real-world context. In other words, instead of relegating topics such as judgement or forgiveness to the philosophical realm, we could ask questions that submit to empirical investigation; questions such as: how do forgiveness and judgement measurably affect human happiness, peacefulness, and a general sense of well being? Pain is measurable. Anxiety and stress are measurable. We can accurately assess the affect of specific behaviours on the human condition, and in doing so, draw intelligent conclusions. We can make sensible claims regarding moral activity without broadly suggesting that our culture is better than others, and without saying that all perspectives are equally valid. We do not need to restrict our assessments of human morality to the philosophical realm where we are either forced to claim unsubstantiated access to truth or else yield to an ultimately fruitless standpoint of personal relativity.

After having “dealt” with the objections against christianity, in the second half of the book Keller shifts focus and seeks to develop arguments in support of the faith. However, not surprisingly, his own arguments are not subjected to the shouts of relativism and arrogance which abounded in the first section of the book. He allows himself this convenience by suggesting that in a sense, christianity is a universal truth that doesn’t really need to be justified, for everybody already knows it to be true; his job is simply to reorient the attention of non-believers to this rather obvious fact.

I have tried not to prove the existence of God to you. My goal has been to show you that you already know God is there. To some degree I have been treating the nonexistence of God has an intellectual problem, but it is much more than that. It not only makes all moral choices meaningless, but it makes all life meaningless too.

He seeks to achieve his aim by presenting an array of clues, that although individually are not overtly convincing, when considered as a whole, are pitched as an almost water tight case for God. The “clues” include: the need for a first cause, the fine tuning of the universe, the regularity of nature, and the inexplicable sense of beauty and meaning that touches us all. And the real clincher is morality; the idea that without God, we have no means to judge right or wrong, and no justifiable or consistent basis for understanding or promoting human rights.

As with most of the arguments in the book, these claims regarding morality lose credibility by being framed in a philosophical context. It simply does not make sense at any other level. There are only two ways in which people can know the morality of God: we are either born with his morality imprinted on our very being, or we learn it (presumably, directly, or indirectly, via the only tangible reference point we have, which is the bible). If it is learned, we must acknowledge that human morality cannot be universal, for anyone that has not read the bible, or been in some way instructed of its teachings, cannot be moral (which is just another way of saying that a significant portion of the non-western world is not moral). And if we are born prewired with the morality of God, then what possible argument could be offered against the notion that this “prewiring” is the result of a purely biological process, and not the invisible hand of God? It is clear that a vast array of human abilities and character traits are universally prewired (such as our ability to to learn language). There is no reason to suggest that these traits are not biologically driven; nor is there reason to suggest that our morality is not equally consistent with biological origins.

I consider it a significant error to suggest that morality only makes sense when humanity has an external reference point against which to judge right and wrong. Two other criteria suffice: an agreed social framework and a biological aversion to pain. We do not need the bible (or the divine inspiration of God) to tell us that rape is wrong: the deep physical, psychological and emotional hurt experienced by those that suffer this horrendous crime is its own justification. And for those actions that do not tangibly affect the human condition, what matters is social agreement. There is no need to argue for a position of universal morality; all that is required is a sensitivity to the discomfort of others (a sensitivity which itself can be explained through evolutionary theory).

I will now briefly comment on a few points raised in the book that specifically caught my attention. The first relates to the chapter, “How could a good God allow suffering in the world”. The problem of suffering is a major thorn in the side of christianity. How do you reconcile the concept of an all knowing, all loving, all powerful God, with the stark reality of human suffering? There is no easy answer. Well, so i thought. Keller appears to think otherwise. He offers up two solutions. The first: good things can come from suffering. The second: Jesus suffered too. In other words, if the first explanation seems a little shallow, you can at least take comfort in the idea that suffering is a necessary evil that even Jesus had to endure. Not that the second answer provides any consolation to the non-christian. How these solutions serve to explain the recent earthquake in China, the cyclone in Burma, the sickness, starvation, deformity, disillusionment, and unnecessary pain experienced by hundreds of thousands daily, he does not say. The chapter skirts around the difficult questions; it takes a narrow and shallow perspective of suffering, fails to comment on popular theodicies, and their failings, and ultimately, proves deeply unsatisfying.

Another point of contention in the book is Keller’s description of hell. He states: “It is a travesty to picture God casting people into a put who are crying ‘I’m sorry! Let me out!’” I find this perspective somewhat surprising considering verses in the bible such as Mark 9:47-48:

And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where ‘their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.’

And Matthew 13:41-42:

The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

How does Keller propose the non-believer is resigned to hell? It’s certainly not through the judgement of God. Instead he absolves God of responsibility, and suggests that hell is simply the non-believer’s “freely chosen identity apart from God”. It’s a gradual process that apparently works as follows:

[It starts with] “addictions to drugs, alcohol, gambling and pornography. First, there is disinitegration, because as time goes on you need more and more of the addictive substance to get an equal kick, which leads to less and less satisfaction. Second, there is isolation, as increasingly you blame others and circumstances in order to justify your behaviours… When we build our lives on anything but God, that thing - though a good thing - becomes an enslaving addiction, something we have to have to be happy. Personal disintegration happens on a broader scale. In eternity, this disintegration goes on forever. There is increasing isolation, denial, delusion, and self-absorption. When you lose all humility you are out of touch with reality. No one ever asks to leave hell.

So there you have it. If you remain unconvinced by the arguments for God, if you do not see the “clues”, you are ultimately on a path to misery that will eventually lead you to self-assigned separation from God. Judgement is strangely absent in Keller’s theology. Life for the non-believer is just a gradual spiral into addiction and self-loathing so great that we become shut off from God in our own personal hell. In the first section of the book, an idea such as this would be denounced as an unjustifable claim of utlimate truth or else meaningless relativistic dribble. Here it is presented as a blindly obvious representation of truth - even if it appears to be at odds with the biblical rendering of judgement and hell.

And this brings me to a third point of interest: Keller, once again adopting the philosophical high road at the expense of real world experience, claims that “a life not centered on God leads to emptiness” and “an identity not based on God also leads inevitably to deep forms of addiction”. He wants us to believe that all non-christians lead meaningless, depressive, addictive, and ultimately destructive lives. This is simply absurd. It is empirically and abundantly evident that many non-christians live happy, meaningful, fulfilling, and self-sacrificing lives. To suggest otherwise is to argue that “if i feel worthless without God, then so must everybody else”. This view is completely unjustified.

Keller admits that none of his “clues” are actual proofs of God. “Every one of them is rationally avoidable”. And yet despite earnest and rational investigation, if i don’t pick up on the “hints” of God, i am to spend an eternity in hell. I just don’t get this. This position fails to accept the reality that different people are affected by different ideas. For one person the problem of suffering is a major road block to the acceptance of christianity, to others it’s nothing more than a mild mystery. To some, predestination is the most perplexing problem to ever take root him human consciousness, to others it’s an idle curiosity. To some, the very existence of the universe, the mere presence of something rather than nothing, the expression of beauty and the regularity of nature, are all sure-fire sign posts that drill home the necessity of God; to others, like myself, they are nothing more than vague attempts to make sense of complex ideas that can be more expediently and rationally explained through alternate means. And yet i, and any other non-christian, are to expect eternal torment in hell because we objectively, earnestly, and rationally consider the so called sign posts to be pointing in another direction. A chilling idea.

However, despite these strong criticisms, there is much that i enjoyed in this book. It is clearly written, the style is engaging, and although all of the arguments presented are standard scripts of the apologetic tradition, Keller does add his own unique and typically thought-provoking spin on the material. His research is commendable, and he draws on a vast array of sources, including those from the new atheist movement, such as Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris, and from revered apologists including Alvin Plantinga and N.T Wright. At times confusing, at times compelling, often frustrating, and occasionally controversial, The Reason for God is anything but dull.

In this series i have discussed a number of the reasons why i am no longer a christian. I have not attempted to write a definitive work. I simply wanted to provide an overview of the key obstacles that stand in the way of my belief in God.

In the first post i talked about the absurdity of the gospel. It simply does not make sense that the punishment of an innocent party in lieu of the guilty serves to redeem the guilty. I simply do not understand how the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ absolves my own selfish rebellion. The punishment of the righteous for crimes they did not commit is not justice. It is nonsensical. We are to believe that God’s punishment of himself, to satisfy his own desire for justice, somehow makes us worthy of knowing him. I challenge anyone to rationally explain how this works.

I argued that although “free will” allows us to make choices about our day to day actions, we do not ultimately have the freedom to choose a sinless life; although specific acts of sin are preventable, the very concept of sin is not. As such, it can be argued that God has made us in such a way that sin, and hence the fall of mankind, was completely unavoidable. And yet, through the punishment that ensued the inescapable entrance of original sin, we suffer for that which we could not and cannot control. The world is bursting at the seams under the weight of God’s punishment. Every day we suffer the burden of disease and dysfunction that are the consequences of an insurrection that we were powerless to prevent. I do not believe that God’s plan to save us makes a wrong right. God cannot be lauded for rescuing us from death when he is responsible for the sin that leads to death.

Finally, i touched upon the negativity of christian theology; a theology that proclaims the idea that God is perfect and we are worthless. This is not a message that builds people up. It is not a message that rehabilitates. It reminds me of the infamous scientology survey: on approaching the church of scientology you will be asked to complete an innocuous questionnaire. Upon review you are told that your answers testify to your almost complete inner corruption. Fortunately you came to the right place; only “they” know how to make you right. With your sense of self worth diminished, and your confidence in tatters, you sign up. Christianity is no different. What more encouragement do you need to join the fold then to be told you will burn in hell for all eternity if you do not follow Christ?

In the second post i challenged the watchmaker analogy (the argument that claims that if the design of a watch implies a designer, it would therefore seem obvious that the entire universe, infinitely more complex than a silly old wristwatch, must also have a designer, and that designer is God).

I need to point out that the weakness of this particular argument is not an actual reason why i am not a christian. The argument is just an example of an almost countless number of nuanced philosophical propositions that seek to prove the existence of God. These arguments, and the counter arguments, and the counter countered arguments, are typically nothing more than confused rhetoric tripped up on definitions and leaky premises that ultimately do nothing to provide us with any certainty on the existence of God. With that said, i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to provide my own rebuttal of the watchmaker analogy.

I attempted to show that the introduction of God to explain the existence of a complicated entity (i.e. our universe), only gives rise to an even more complicated entity (i.e. God) that needs explanation. If it’s possible to assert that God has always existed and doesn’t need to be created then i cannot understand why (philosophically at least) the universe could not always have existed.

I then proceeded to explain how science offers an idea in support of an ever-existent universe, or should i say, never ending sequence of oscillating universes. This is not to say that science has proposed anything more than just an idea; however, the mere recognition of reasonable alternative explanations for the creation of the universe is sufficient to relegate the watchmaker analogy to just another “idea” and not a justifiable “motive” for belief. In other words, although arguments, such as an oscillating universe, or the anthropic principle, do not disprove God, they do discredit any attempt by christians to prove the existence of God. And without positive proof, i argue that we need to fall back to a default position of non-belief. As a side note, there is one clear difference between the theological claims of creation and scientific claims: the latter is based on tangible and reproducible measurements resulting from the study of the world in which we live; unlike the former which is based on nothing tangible, nothing reproducible, and certainly nothing measurable.

In the third post i discuss the idea that people of all religions typically use the same reasons to justify their beliefs. It should be clear that if two people of different religions are arriving at different conclusions about the nature of God, and both use the same arguments to support these mutually exclusive claims (i.e. personal experience, prayer, divine knowledge, etc), then the arguments cannot be sound, as a sound argument cannot support mutually exclusive outcomes.

I also argued that the apparent universality of religion (i.e. a persistent belief in the concept of God across time and culture) does not demonstrate the existence of God. I explained that the human drive to understand the numinous and to embrace the mystical does not for a moment suggest that God exists, and as with all broad spectrum human character traits, there is strong reason to suggest that our predilection for religion is rooted in our evolutionary past.

In part 4 of the series i note that through the act of prayer christians are clearly asserting a belief in a theistic god that is willing to actively involve himself in worldly events. It is hopefully clear that a belief in an interventionist god demands that science and religion are in conflict. For as soon as you acknowledge the existence of an interfering god, you must admit that the interference can be observed, and at this point, you provide science with the opportunity to study that interference.

I proceed to highlight a number of issues relating to prayer including why we even need to ask God for relief from suffering and hardship if he is a loving God and already knows our thoughts.

However, the pinnacle argument against prayer is that we can never actually tell if our prayers are answered. If we observe no results, we can claim that our prayer wasn’t consistent with God’s will. If we observe some result, but not what we expected, we can claim that God knows better than we do, and is working out his divine purpose in our lives. And finally, if we observe the results we expect, we can claim whole heartedly that God has indeed responded to our petitions, although we actually have no way of demonstrating that the apparent response was not sheer coincidence; a case of the world just working itself out. For this is the problem: all answered prayer is self-limiting; the only prayers that are ever “answered” are those that seek outcomes that could occur by natural means. For example, we get the promotion at work, our sick friend gets better, etc, but you will never see an amputee re-grow a missing limb. A truly miraculous response to prayer, which would clearly put the nail in the coffin of atheism, is nowhere to be seen.

In the fifth post i discuss two topics. Firstly, i explain why i consider there to be insufficient evidence to support a belief in the bodily resurrection of Christ. Secondly, i explain why i consider the eternal assignment of non-christians to hell to be irreconcilable with the concept of a just god.

I challenge the idea that many books of the bible were really written independently (a state referred to as multiple attestation). They may be written by different authors, and at different times, but the authors have drawn on a common body of understanding, not just explicitly, as Matthew and Luke reference Mark, but implicitly in the way the writings represent an already agreed and respected account of events.

With respect to the extra-biblical references to the resurrection, i do not regard these accounts as particularly revealing. An historian is like a reporter. They report what they see and hear in the community. They are not oracles of truth. In recording the occurrence of a particular event, an historian, or other social commentator, is not necessarily lending weight to the notion that the event actually occurred. They are simply recording what others purport to have occurred.

I then proceed to discuss the greatest obstacle i have when it comes to accepting the resurrection of Christ. The evidence available in support of the resurrection is not sufficient to justify acceptance of the miraculous. Let me generalize: the evidence provided to a claim must be commensurate with the scale of the claim. I would not be willing to accept the word of my wife or her friends if she claimed that she travelled to the moon. I’d need more than verbal or written confirmation before i was willing to accept the truly miraculous. The resurrection is not an everyday event, and everyday evidence is not sufficient. I need substantially more evidence before i am willing to accept the writings of people that i do not know; writing 2000 years ago in a context, and for a purpose, of which i cannot be sure; writing in a mythical age, where without the benefit of science, and critical rational thought, all sorts of wild fancy abounded. I just cannot accept that these writings, and these writings alone, are sufficient to support a completely miraculous claim, when i, and arguably no one alive today, has ever witnessed the truly miraculous. The bible is “full” of miraculous events. Isn’t it strange that these miracles no longer occur; that the events vanish into thin air in the context of an educated and critical society?

In the second thread of this article i propose that eternal judgement in hell is an unjust punishment for a lifetime of rebellion against God. The key principle of justice is the notion that the payment fits the crime. Eternal torment in the flames of hell, with no opportunity for respite or escape, is anything but justice.

Anyway, what is the root cause of my apparent sinfulness? I don’t follow God because i don’t believe there is sufficient evidence to warrant belief in his existence. Why should i be punished for all eternity because God hasn’t provided evidence commensurate with the claim that he came to Earth, died, and rose from the dead? Why should i be punished if he hasn’t made his presence clear? I mean, what kind of god would punish a person, and punish them for all eternity for failing to be convinced of the miraculous on insufficient evidence? It isn’t right.

In the sixth and final post in the series i turn to the problem of suffering: How can a god that is all knowledgeable, all powerful, and all loving, allow us to suffer?

If God knows everything, he knows our present suffering, and even before he created us, he knew of the suffering that we would endure. If God is all powerful, he could end our suffering, or he could have created us in a way that avoided suffering. And if God is all loving, he would want to keep us from suffering. The mere presence of suffering in the world suggests that at least one, and possibly all, of these claims about God are invalid.

The most popular argument against the problem of suffering is free will (the notion that suffering is an unavoidable consequence of humans making bad choices). I explained that no one has complete free will (i can stand, but not fly), and that my limitations do not prevent me from worshiping God. The point is, i could still have the freedom to love God, the freedom to choose him or reject him, without necessarily needing the freedom to inflict pain on my fellow humans. Why didn’t God leave off the freedom to hurt?

I suggested the idea that we deserve suffering is abhorrent. For our common experience tells us that suffering is not distributed fairly. Evil people do not always suffer in accordance with their deeds, nor are the loyal always blessed. Are we to suggest that the incredibly high infant mortality rate in Africa indicates that Africans are more deserving of punishment than Australians? That is absurd. Furthermore, if pain and suffering were really a direct result of God punishing us for our sinfulness, then arguably we should not try to help those in pain, for to do so would be to undermine God’s will. This is clearly absurd.

The argument that suffering is good for us is equally weak - it does nothing to explain the 3.3 million still born children each year, or the 100,000 new born babies that die of malaria.

I argued that delayed deliverance (the idea that God will one day wipe away all our tears and end suffering; the promise of future compassion) does nothing to relieve my current pain, and only serves to point to God as the essence of evil. To be able to help now, but to choose not to, is anything but just or merciful.

Finally, i concluded that the fall back position that God is a mystery is nothing but wishful thinking. If God is simply one big mystery; if we cannot understand his plans, his purpose, and his methods, then how can we possibly say that God is good? How can we justify his love for us? Our daily experience suggests that he does not love us. How do we know the invisible love of God so clearly and yet explain away the ever visible reality of wanton suffering as just a wonderful mystery?

And so ends this series.

Are these the best arguments i can offer for disbelief in God? In some ways, this is not the point. For i believe that it is not the responsibility of the non-believer to disprove the beliefs of the faithful. I will believe in something if i see a reason to believe. In the absence of a reason i will not believe. I do not believe that Atlas or Zeus or Mickey Mouse, created and sustain the universe simply because i see no compelling reason to accept this conclusion. Likewise, i do not believe in the notion of any God, for i do not see any reason to alter my default position of non-belief. I see no active presence of any God in this world. I am told that God wants me to enter into a relationship with him more than anything… so much so that his son died on the cross to make that possible. And yet no earnest plea, no heartfelt desire to seek his presence, will ever yield his appearance. Could the absence of evidence be any more obvious? There is only one response that makes sense of the dilemma: God does not exist.

I have packaged up the articles in this series into a single PDF. You can download it by clicking on the icon below. May it encourage you to think critically.

Located in the bottom right corner of the Home page was a section titled “Recent Questions”. A particular question in the list caught my eye: Why is God’s punishment for eternity? I was particularly interested in the question as i’d recently written on the subject in a post on this web site. In the post i argued that eternal torment in hell was an unjust punishment for a lifetime of sin; infinite suffering for finite rebellion is certainly not justice.

Anyway, the question which caught my eye was raised by a person named Sarah. It reads:

People always say that God sends people to hell because they’ve rebelled against him; because they choose to be separated from him; because God is a just God, etc. But lots of people don’t really choose to stay away from God, they just don’t know the truth - having faith isn’t easy. And if God is just, then shouldn’t the punishment be equal to the sin? In the Old Testament it was an eye for an eye, etc. So if someone ignores God for the eighty years of their life, shouldn’t they only be separated from him for eighty years? Eternity is such a long time to be in agony. If God truly wanted people to be saved, surely he could just forgive them - why do people have to accept it for themselves? And why was Jesus able to forgive people while he was on earth, if the punishment for sin hadn’t yet been given by God? God created people, he should be responsible for getting them into heaven. It’s not fair to create people and then let them go their own way.

These are all very good questions. I was hoping for a serious response. Unfortunately, i read this:

80 years sinning should equal 80 years punishment… This seems fair and just. I wonder though, whether a sinner who lives for 80 years really does *only* sin for 80 years. The only way a sinner can turn from sin and serve the living God is by the work of the Spirit in them to change them. Since this good work of the Spirit will not be available in hell, what makes you think the sinner, in hell, won’t continue to sin? The picture of the condemned sinner in hell isn’t that they are truly sorry for what they’ve done and want to serve God, since this is only possible by the work of the Spirit. I’m sure the sinner in hell is sorry they are there, but not sorry in the sense that they want to change because they’ve offended God. If they’re sinning in hell, they have to pay off *that* sin as well, which means they will never ‘pay it off’.

Let me restate this response (with perhaps a little more character): An 80 year old man is sent to hell by God. As the man sinned for 80 years, he is to serve out 80 years in torment. After the 80 years is up, he is entitled to leave. But wait. There is a catch. The only way the man can leave is to forge a personal relationship with God. And the only way to develop a relationship with God is through the Holy Spirit. And guess what? The Holy Spirit isn’t in hell. A catch-22. The old man is to be punished eternally for not leaving a place that by definition he cannot leave.

Is this not the most absurd argument you have ever heard? Perhaps the most reprehensible facet of the argument is that the author actually considers the response to be an adequate explanation of justice. God punishes people for not leaving hell, even though he is the one that denies them the ability to leave. How does this demonstrate justice and fairness?

This is an unfortunate and disturbing response to a serious and earnest question. It’s disturbing that a reputable mainstream christian body (this is not a crazy minority sect, but the Anglican Church of Australia) can trumpet such irrational and non-biblical garbage. The intellectual dishonesty that some people will employ as they attempt to reconcile the non-sensical threads of christian theology is mind boggling.

Finally, in an attempt to further explain how God is just, the author writes:

The Bible tells us that everyone has sinned and turned away from God, refusing to worship him as God and instead worshipping false gods and doing evil things.

However, as i’ve explained in another post, if every single person, every one of us, sins and turns away from God, then surely we cannot be held accountable for that sin, as sinfulness must be an unavoidable and intrinsic quality of humanity. How can we be punished for sinning when God has created us in such a way that sin is unavoidable?

Let’s bring these two threads together. God makes us with a design flaw. He makes us such that we cannot help but sin. So he punishes us for sinning (even though we cannot help it) by leaving us to suffer in a world that he made rife with cancer and disease and never ending evil. And then, in the midst of the suffering, in the absence of clear evidence, if we fail to trust that he exists, he punishes us in hell. And just when we’ve served out our sentence in the burning lake of sulfur, he decides to punish us eternally. Why? Well, it’s simple. We are to be punished not for who we are, not for what we have done, but for what he will not give us. We are to be punished eternally for the crime of being punished. We are to spend an eternity in torment over a catch-22. The entire saga is out of our control, and yet we, not God, are held entirely responsible.

Thanks christianity.net.au for restoring my faith in God’s justice.

The world is groaning under the weight of incomprehensible suffering. The extent of this suffering is not always obvious. It is easy to grow comfortable; to consider our present state of existence, however luxuriant, as normal, even necessary; to define suffering as the degradation of the quality of life that we have come to expect, however inconsequential the loss. A person forced to downsize to a one-bedroom flat may cry poor; another, offered a roof and a pillow after years of living rough, may cry for joy. Our perceptions of sufficiency, of necessity, are significantly shaped by our expectations of what we deserve, which in turn is shaped by the experiences we have known. And yet, not all suffering is relative. If we dare to look beyond our own immediate circumstance we will only too quickly confront the realities of objective and universal suffering.

The following is a snapshot from the World Health Organization of global maternal suffering in 2005:

• 529,000 women in the developing world die during pregnancy and childbirth each year.
• The risk of death during pregnancy and childbirth is 1 in 16 in Africa.
• More than 50% of all child deaths occur in just 6 countries.
• 2.2 million women with HIV/AIDS give birth each year.
• 3.3 million children are stillborn each year.
• 46 million children are aborted each year.

And then there is cancer; war; famine; disease; natural disasters; mental, physical, and sexual abuse. We could fill books and libraries with numbers and words that depict a world in pain. And yet at the end of the day these are just scribbles on paper. The statistics do little to portray the damage, the immense personal trauma, that befalls those that suffer.

An obvious question follows: How is this possible? How can a God that is all knowledgeable, all powerful, and all loving, allow us to suffer? This dilemma is referred to as the problem of evil or the problem of suffering.

If God knows everything, he knows our present suffering, and even before he created us, he knew of the suffering that we would endure. If God is all powerful, he could end our suffering, or he could have created us in a way that avoided suffering. And if God is all loving, he would want to keep us from suffering. The mere presence of suffering in the world suggests that at least one, and possibly all, of these claims about God are invalid.

The attempts made by christians to respond to the problem of suffering are referred to as theodicies. Perhaps the most popular theodicy is that of “free will”; the idea that God did not want us to be robots, he wanted us to have freedom, the freedom to choose or reject him, and so he gave us free will, and an unavoidable consequence of free will is that we hurt one another and hurt ourselves.

Unfortunately, this argument misunderstands the notion of free will. No one has complete free will. Sure, i can make a choice to sit or to stand, to drink water or beer, but i am not free to choose to hover. As much as i would like to hover two feet above the floor, i cannot. I cannot go without sleep for a month, run at the speed of sound, or travel backwards through time. There is much that i am not free to do, but i still consider myself to have free will. It would seem that God has created us with a subset of freedoms (i.e. i can run but i cannot fly). The point is, i could still have the freedom to love God, the freedom to choose him or reject him, without necessarily needing the freedom to inflict pain on my fellow humans. Why didn’t God leave off the freedom to hurt? For those of you not convinced by the argument, consider this: christians believe that they will freely worship God in heaven, yet they also believe that there will be no suffering in heaven. This clearly suggests that free will and suffering are not contingent; i can have one without the other. If this is possible in heaven, then why not on Earth? Finally, the argument of free will makes no attempt to explain the suffering that is experienced as a result of natural disasters: fire, flood, drought, earthquake, tornado, tsunami… how does my freedom to choose God explain why nearly 250,000 people died in the boxing day tsunami?

You may say that we deserve suffering. You may argue that natural disasters are actually a result of our rejection of God. In fact much of the old testament takes this perspective. When Israel followed God they prospered. When they turned their back on God they suffered. And yet the principle that punishment follows sin is clearly unsustainable. For our common experience tells us that suffering is not distributed fairly. Evil people do not always suffer in accordance with their deeds, nor are the loyal always blessed. Are we to suggest that the incredibly high infant mortality rate in Africa indicates that Africans are more deserving of punishment than Australians? That is absurd. Furthermore, if pain and suffering were really a direct result of God punishing us for our sinfulness, then arguably we should not try to help those in pain, for to do so would be to undermine God’s will. This is clearly absurd.

Another common theodicy is that suffering is good for us. To paraphrase a statement from C.S. Lewis: suffering is like the chisel blows of a sculpture forming a beautiful work of art. The pain refines us. It makes us better people. This argument sounds rather poetic, but try explaining that to the 3.3 million still born children each year, or the 100,000 new born babies that die of malaria. Where is the opportunity for refinement in arbitrary infant death?

You might argue that although we suffer in this life, there will come a time when God will wipe away the tears of the faithful; a time when he will banish all sickness and pain. And yet, even if true, this argument does nothing to explain present suffering. Imagine if i saw you by the side of the road, injured, bleeding, and barely conscious, only to say, hey, i’ll be passing through here again early next week, if you’re still here, i’ll stop and help you out. My promise of future compassion does nothing to address your present pain. My decision to delay assistance is not commendable, or even acceptable; it is pure evil. Shouldn’t we consider God’s behaviour in similar terms?

Although there are many other arguments raised against the problem of suffering, i’ll end this post with the typical christian “fall back” position: it’s all a mystery. In other words, yes, suffering sucks, and yes, i cannot understand it, but who am i to understand the enormous mind of God? We just need to trust him. For he loves us perfectly and we must be humble enough to admit that his plans for our lives are beyond our fickle minds. We must trust that he is constantly working in our lives to bring out the best in us. But if God is simply one big mystery; if we cannot understand his plans, his purpose, and his methods, then how can we possibly say that God is good? How can we justify his love for us? Our daily experience suggests that he does not love us. How do we know the invisible love of God so clearly and yet explain away the ever visible reality of wanton suffering as just a wonderful mystery? I guess there is no limit to the fanciful explanations used to maintain the belief in an image of God that is at complete odds with our daily experience.

So which is it? Is God not all knowledgeable? Not all powerful? Or does he really want us to suffer? There is only one other explanation: he doesn’t exist.

In this post i will discuss two topics. Firstly, i will explain why i consider there to be insufficient evidence to support a belief in the bodily resurrection of Christ. I will not attempt to methodically refute all arguments standing in favour of the resurrection, although there are many who have done so; rather, i will seek to expound on why i consider even the most sturdy of arguments an inadequate justification for purporting the reality of the resurrection. Secondly, i will explain why i consider the eternal assignment of non-christians to hell to be irreconcilable with the concept of a just god.

There are numerous statements in the bible, and a handful in non-biblical sources, that report the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Any good christian apologist will explain that the passages in the bible that report the resurrection are strengthened by a principle known as “multiple attestation”. This simply means that certain books in the bible, which were written independently, consistently document the resurrection. Although somewhat true, we do need to be careful when we say that the gospel accounts are truly independent. For example, not all of the material presented in the gospels is uniquely formed: large tracts of the gospels of Matthew and Luke are explicitly based upon the gospel of Mark. Also, it’s important to recognise that the gospels were not written immediately following the resurrection (the earliest, Mark, was written perhaps 40 years later, whilst John was written up to 60-70 years after the resurrection). I say this not to discredit the writings (for in comparison with the majority of historical records, these timeframes are actually rather impressive), but merely to highlight that the gospels did not introduce “new ideas” as much as they captured the essence of existing oral traditions that were already within heavy circulation amongst christian communities. Let me explain why this is important.

We should expect that early christian communities would develop in disparate locations, and develop perspectives, preferences, and practices that were largely unique to each community (just as we experience in church’s today). We should also expect that there would be a degree of pollination across the communities (e.g. through traveling missionaries). Therefore, when two separate communities commit to writing independent gospel accounts, we should not be surprised to see the development of passages peculiar to each community, but also to witness a degree of harmonization across the accounts. Are the writings truly independent? I would say no. They may be written by different authors, and at different times, but the authors have drawn on a common body of understanding, not just explicitly, as Matthew and Luke reference Mark, but implicitly in the way the writings represent an already agreed and respected account of events. To my way of thinking, this is not “real” multiple attestation. As an example, consider this: two unrelated people attend a music concert. They return that night to their respective homes and immediately write independent reviews based on what they witnessed at the gig. This is multiple attestation. In contrast, if the fans waited a couple of weeks, read reviews of the concert recorded in high profile music magazines, discussed the gig with common friends over internet chat lines, listened to the same music critics dissect the concert on the radio, and then sat down to write their own reviews, would we say they were truly independent? I think not.

With respect to the extra-biblical references to the resurrection, i do not regard these accounts as particularly revealing. An historian is like a reporter. They report what they see and hear in the community. They are not oracles of truth. In recording the occurrence of a particular event, an historian, or other social commentator, is not necessarily lending weight to the notion that the event actually occurred. They are simply recording what others purport to have occurred. An historian may write that christians claim that Christ rose from the dead. Does this mean that Christ did? No, it just means that christians thought he did. In this respect, the secular sources speaking of the resurrection tell us nothing new; they simply reinforce a point that the bible renders perfectly clear.

Another mechanism used by christians to support the truth claims of the resurrection is the reliability of the gospel tradition; the almost faultless manner in which the text of the bible has been passed through the generations. For example, many christians will point to the reliability of the gospel tradition; the almost faultless manner in which the text of the bible has been passed through the generations. Archeological discoveries of tracts of biblical text have shown uncanny word for word consistency with modern day renderings of the ancient writings, confirming that the scribes tasked with reproducing the bible through the centuries were particularly methodical and trustworthy in the way they transcribed the text. This of course does not mean that accidental and deliberate errors have not crept into the bible. There is an entire branch of study known as textual criticism, that amongst other tasks, seeks to verify the authenticity of the scriptures, highlighting what has changed through the passage of time, what was accidentally added or removed after the fact, what was deliberately embellished, etc. There are some scholars who have become so disillusioned by the errors that have crept into the scriptures that they have abandoned the faith, although this response is somewhat difficult to appreciate, as most of the identified errors have little impact on the broader principles of christian theology. However, what i consider even more important than the reliability of transmission, is the reliability of the first writings. It is one thing to show that we can reproduce the bible word for word as it was originally written (not that we can), but it is quite another to show that the original words were indeed correct. I could write down on a piece of paper today that i have red hair. These words could be faithfully reproduced down the generations for two thousand years without suggesting for a moment that i really have red hair.

There are many other techniques used to show that the claims of the original gospel writers were valid. These techniques seek to demonstrate that the bodily resurrection of Christ is the most plausible explanation of the collected evidence. Examples include: As the resurrection was preached so close to the actual event, why did non-believers not recover the body of Jesus to demonstrate that he hadn’t risen from the dead? Why did non-believers not challenge those who claimed to have witnessed the resurrected Jesus? Why do the gospels record women as the first people to see the resurrected Christ, when society so poorly respected the opinions of women? Surely, if the story was fabricated, the scriptures would record men as witnesses of the risen Christ. Why do the gospels present the apostles as bumbling idiots? Surely if the story was fabricated the followers of Jesus would have been presented in a positive light? If the resurrection is not real, how do we explain the apparent transformation of these bumbling disciples into brave and focused missionaries who were prepared to die for their beliefs? And so on.

It would take far too much time to systematically challenge each of these points in turn (although there are many good books that do); and besides, this is not the primary purpose of this post. The point is, even if it is not possible to offer strong and sure answers to the questions offered above, even if i can’t provide a reasonable explanation as to why the disciples underwent a dramatic change of demeanor, are the absence of suitable explanations sufficient to justify a belief that a man died, lay dead for 3 days, and then rose again? This is the key point i want to address.

The evidence required to support a claim must be commensurate with the scale of the claim. I need little direct evidence that my wife went to the gym today. I know from experience that she attends the gym every Sunday. She left the house wearing gym clothes. She came home smelling a little sweaty. I am not aware of any reason why she would lie to me about going to the gym. Her behaviour is completely consistent with her character, with her past actions, and with the actions of people that attend the gym daily. Even without other evidence (i.e. the clothes, the sweat), the mere fact that she told me she went to the gym is sufficient evidence for me to believe that she did.

Now if Megan told me that instead of going to the gym she went to the moon, i’m afraid i would not take her at her word. Her statement alone is no longer sufficient to justify the magnitude of the claim. Even if she brought home some grey looking dirt in a bottle. Even if a couple of her friends vouched that they saw her blast off into space. Even if she showed me photos. I’m not going to be easily persuaded. I’m going to need more than that. The claim that in an interval of a few hours on a Sunday morning she somehow went to the moon is so extraordinary that i would need truck loads of evidence before i would believe it. And so it is with the resurrection of Christ.

It is one thing to point to a passage in the book of Acts that states that 500 people saw the resurrected Jesus. It is one thing to ask the question of how else are we to explain the transformation of the disciples. Written statements, and suggestive scenarios, may be considered sufficient evidence when trying to ascertain the plausibility of “everyday” historical events. But the resurrection is not an everyday event. It is nothing at all like Megan attending the gym. It is like Megan claiming to travel to the moon. The evidence that is sufficient to support one claim is not sufficient to support the other. The point is this: i need more, lots lots more evidence before i am willing to accept the writings of people that i do not know; writing 2000 years ago in a context, and for a purpose, of which i cannot be sure; writing in a mythical age, where without the benefit of science, and critical rational thought, all sorts of wild fancy abounded. I just cannot accept that these writings, and these writings alone, are sufficient to support a completely miraculous claim, when i, and arguably no one alive today, has ever witnessed the truly miraculous. The bible is “full” of miraculous events. Isn’t it strange that these miracles no longer occur; that the events vanish into thin air in the context of an educated and critical society? I need more. Much more evidence to support a miraculous claim.

There are some who may argue that the resurrection of Christ is really not that surprising given that Jesus is God and God can do anything. But this is a cyclic argument. For christianity is dependent upon the resurrection. The only reason christians believe that Jesus is God is because of the resurrection. To claim that the resurrection is evidence that Jesus is God, and then to say the resurrection is possible because Jesus was God is to talk in circles.

One of the primary reasons i am no longer a christian is the mismatch of the scale of the claim and the scale of the evidence as it relates to the resurrection. I am sure many christians would like to think that i left the faith either because i was never really a christian to begin with, or because i don’t want to live under the authority of God. This is crap. I have no problem with authority. I have no problem submitting to a real God. My departure from the faith has nothing to do with convenience or self will. I am no longer a christian for one reason only. I don’t see a reason to believe in God. I just don’t believe he exists.

This brings me to the topic of hell. To get straight to the point, christians believe that non-christians will spend an eternity without God. What does this mean? It means an eternity without everything that God provides: no love, no compassion, no peace, no refuge, etc. This is hell. It is the anthisesis of everything good. Or to use New Testament terms: it is a place of fire and brimstone and gnashing of teeth. It is utter torment. It is hell. And non-christians will be there for all eternity. Some may argue that hell isn’t really about punishment. It’s a bit like heading to the south pole to attend a party, but since you’re not on the guest list the host won’t let you in, and you have to sit outside in the freezing cold and slowly die; you’re not being punished, you’re just dealing with the consequences of not being permitted into the presence of the host. You get the idea: the host is God, the party is heaven, and only christians are on the guest list. It’s kind of a nice analogy, but i think it is floored, partly because it doesn’t really deal with the notion that God, in his role as a just judge, must enforce justice through punishment of the sinful. And in my unbelief, i am apparently rebelling against God, and on the day of judgement, without Christ by my side, i will be exposed to the full wrath of God and thrown into the lake of burning sulfur.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that i have a problem with this. In particular, i see this as unjust. We are told that God is just. This is why he needs to deal with sin. But the major characteristic of justice is the notion that the payment fits the crime. If i am sentenced to death after stealing a loaf of bread, you would not say that justice has been served. Similarly, if a court of law sentenced Hitler to four weeks of community service for his role in the Holocaust, you’d say that justice had been subverted. So even if we should argue that i have spent a life time in rebellion against God, is eternal punishment a just response? Not 100 years, not a thousand, not a million billion trillion, but an eternity of perfect suffering for a mere 70-80 years of sinfulness. It sounds awfully like chopping off my head for stealing a loaf of bread, only infinitely worse. This is not justice.

You may argue that because God is perfect, that any transgression against him is infinitely great, and therefore reason enough for an eternity of punishment. And yet i’m not convinced that this approach is valid. For i consider justice to center on the nature of the crime, not on the nature of the offended party. Should a criminal receive a greater punishment for murdering an “important” person than a nobody? We would say this is wrong. The crime is murder, and the criminal should be punished independently of the status of the murdered. In a similar vein, i’d argue that my crime toward God is ignorance at worst. And if i should be punished, the nature of the punishment should be based upon the nature of the crime, not on the nature of God. Anyway, what is the root cause of my apparent sinfulness? I don’t follow God because i don’t believe there is sufficient evidence to warrant belief in his existence. Why should i be punished for all eternity because God hasn’t provided evidence commensurate with the claim that he came to Earth, died, and rose from the dead? Why should i be punished if he hasn’t made his presence clear? I mean, what kind of god would punish a person, and punish them for all eternity for failing to be convinced of the miraculous on insufficient evidence? It isn’t right. And it’s just another reason why i am not a christian.

I’d say there are four kinds of prayer. Firstly, there are worship prayers, through which people praise God. This is where you tell God that he is one amazing and almighty dude. Then there are prayers of thanksgiving. This is where you thank God for helping you through that stressful job interview, or for introducing you to that pretty girl at the party last night. Thirdly, there are prayers of petition. This is where you say, “God, can i have…”. And finally, there are what i call “shouting” prayers. Like the Psalms, these are the sort of prayers through which you vent at God, shake your fist, and demand to know why he left you high and dry.

All four kinds of prayer tell us something about the christian god. They tell us that the christian god is a theistic god. This means, among other things, that he is a god that actually takes a personal interest in our lives and our attitude toward him. Furthermore, three of the four types of prayer tell us that in addition to taking an interest in who we are, God is in fact so involved in our mundane lives that he is willing to intervene in the events of the world - a kind of meddling hand that tweaks outcomes - in response to our personal requests. For if God did not intervene in the world, there would be no point in asking him to arrange matters in our favour, there would be no point in thanking him when we feel our requests have been answered, and there would be little sense in getting angry with him when we feel like he’s given us a bad hand. Through the act of prayer, christians are clearly asserting a belief in a theistic god that is willing to actively involve himself in worldly events.

As a side note, a deistic god - like the “force” in Star Wars - is a transcendent god, devoid of anthropomorphic qualities, that exists without interest or affiliation in the affairs of humanity.

I suspect most christians do not consider science and religion to be in conflict; claiming instead that science and religion are two non-intersecting domains that not only exist in harmony, but somehow, like good mates, lend mutual support to one another. I disagree. I think a belief in prayer makes it perfectly clear that science and religion are in conflict. For as we just discussed, a belief in prayer indicates a belief in an interfering god, a god that doesn’t only exist outside of the universe, as some would claim, but a god that is repeatedly reaching into the universe, into our day to day lives, to arrange matters on our behalf. And as soon as you acknowledge the existence of an interfering god, you must admit that the interference can be observed, and at this point, you provide science with the opportunity to study that interference. You can’t on the one hand claim that God healed your head cold, aided your memory in your maths exam, and blessed you with a safe holiday, unless you are willing to also claim that these God-enabled outcomes are actually identifiable as the work of God, and therefore open to the scrutiny of science. If the “outcomes” that are claimed to be the work of God cannot be distinguished from natural events, then how can we be assured that they are indeed the work of God? How can i be sure that my head cold went away because God pulled a few tricks, when it could also have been nature simply running its course (for all head colds eventually disappear)?

A typical christian response to this question, “How do you know God answered your prayer?”, is that they “just know”, or that they can “just tell”. It should come as no surprise that i find this a particularly naive answer. For if God is really interested in responding to our prayers, surely he’s not just going to answer prayers in such a way that we can’t actually tell they’ve been answered. I mean if God is really all-powerful, surely we could expect him to answer some serious prayers, and not just little things like head colds that may go undetected. I mean why is it that God is willing to answer our prayers about our back pain, headache, pimples, and tooth ache, but never the really big prayer requests, like “God, i’ve lost my leg in a bomb blast, can you make it grow back, please?”. Unfortunately god never answers these kind of prayers. If you pray hard enough, he’ll heal your cut finger (which will also heal itself), but he’ll never heal your arm when it is cut off from the elbow down in a chain saw accident. It seems God is only willing to answer those prayers that could actually answer themselves naturally. As the saying goes, why won’t God heal amputees? Is he biased? I could offer an explanation: God only appears to answer prayers that are self-limited, because God doesn’t really answer any prayers at all.

A follow up christian response may be that God does not answer the really big prayers, because the bigger the prayer, the more faith you need for it to come true. This fits with the passage in Matthew where Jesus says to his disciples, “I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt… you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done”. I’m not happy with this response, as it makes God sound like a rather astute business man who is only willing to give you the expensive stuff if you drag together enough “money”, in this instance faith, to buy his favour. This doesn’t entirely fit with the idea of a merciful and loving god. I mean, seriously, how earnest does the amputee need to be until God considers him worthy of healing?

Finally, you may argue that i’ve got this all wrong. That God is as much a god of justice as he is a god of mercy. In other words, we’ve all rebelled against him, and therefore, in keeping with justice, God does not need to pay us any attention at all, and he certainly doesn’t need to answer our prayers. You may say that when God does choose to help us, he is actually demonstrating his great mercy. However, this argument still does not explain why God only answers self-limiting prayers. And it certainly doesn’t explain why we need to plead to God in prayer before he actually shows us mercy. Especially when we’re told that God only answers prayers that are consistent with his will (i.e. what he wants). Why is it that we should have to beg for mercy through prayer just so God can perform what he thinks is right? Does this mean that if i don’t plead, God will do what he thinks is wrong? It all gets a bit muddled.

In fact, when you start to look into the topic of prayer, you soon find that it is riddled with problems. For example, if God really loves us so much, and he knows everything that we are going through, why do we even need to ask him for help? Why does a dying person need to ask God to be cured of cancer? If God already knows they are suffering, and he has the power to do something about it, why does he need us to ask? And what about all those people that don’t even know they are dying from cancer, and therefore don’t even know they need to ask? It seems rather pathetic that God would just sit around and do nothing until the dying person, even a devout christian, actually asks for help. Could you imagine a parent idly standing by as a car is about to run over their child? Could you imagine a parent not willing to rush in and pick up the child until the child, who may not even be aware of the impending danger, has actually asked for help? We’d label that parental negligence. In fact i’d imagine any parent that allowed their child to come to harm just because the child didn’t specifically ask for help, may actually be locked up in the slammer. Isn’t it surprising then, that we should be willing to accept this behaviour from a god of pure love?

Then of course, there is the problem of prayer in other religions. I’ve already written about this topic in a previous post, but the mere fact that people of other religions are convinced that their god answers their prayers, in the same way that christians are convinced that God answers their own, only serves to confirm in my mind that people of all nations have wonderful imaginations. As a christian, to claim that you can tell that God has answered your prayers, but at the same time, to clam that anyone of another faith is wrong to claim that their non-existent god has answered their prayers, well that, in my opinion, is the real delusion.

I used to think i was a christian because christianity was the pinnacle of truth. It was only when i travelled overseas, particularly through countries like Egypt and Jordan, that i stopped to think about how significantly we are shaped by our surroundings. I met wonderful people brought up in muslim homes, to muslim parents, attending muslim synagogues, in muslim societies, and guess what? They were muslim. I looked back on my own life. I grew up in a christian home, with christian parents, attended a christian church, hung out with christian friends, all within the context of a christian society. Was it any surprise i was a christian?

If my beliefs were really founded on truth, surely i could convince the muslim world of their folly? Surely i could present a solid argument to all muslims that would persuade them that christianity was the only path to god? We should expect this to be possible if religion were indeed derived from truth. Just like i could explain to another person that the internal angles of a triangle always sum to 180 degrees, or that the brain is the seat of human consciousness, surely i could demonstrate to people of other faiths that my religion is right and theirs wrong? If only this were possible!

Unfortunately, people of all religions typically use the same reasons to justify their beliefs. The problem is this: if two people of different religions are arriving at different conclusions (e.g. the christian believes in god and the muslim believes in allah), and both use the same arguments to support their mutually exclusive claims (i.e. personal experience, prayer, divine knowledge, etc), then clearly one side must be wrong, as the same set of arguments cannot logically lead to two different conclusions. This of course does not for a moment suggest that both sides are wrong; it is possible that one side is indeed correct. However, the point is this: the arguments cannot be sound, as a sound argument cannot support mutually exclusive outcomes.

There are some people that will point to the near universality of religion throughout human history as if it were clear evidence demonstrating the existence of god. The idea is that we are all born with a god-shaped hole that we are desperately seeking to fill; those that don’t turn to god, turn to fame, sex, drugs, and other unhealthy secular pursuits, as a way of satisfying the void within. This idea, as nice as it sounds, is completely without substance. The human drive to understand the numinous and to embrace the mystical does not for a moment suggest that god exists. As with all broad spectrum human character traits, there is strong reason to suggest that our predilection for religion is rooted in our evolutionary past.

At the heart of the theory of evolution is the principle of “survival of the fittest”. In simple terms, any characteristic that enhances the ability of a species to survive (and produce more of their own kind) will be passed on to subsequent generations. With this in mind, explaining why humans appear to thirst for a “higher order” is somewhat akin to explaining why we have an appendix. All we need to do is provide a reasonable explanation of how the trait aided survival at some point in our evolutionary past. In much the same way that an appendix appears to be a vestigial organ passed on to us from our leaf eating ancestors, so propensity for religious belief may be the byproduct of a once beneficial characteristic of humanity. What survival benefit, you may ask, could be attributed to a belief in a supernatural deity? Well, there are plenty of candidate ideas, such as the notion that religion assisted primitive peoples deal with the anxieties of human consciousness facilitating the formation of cohesive and mutually supportive groups that were better equipped at living in a harsh and always unpredictable prehistoric climate. In fact, Daniel Dennett addresses this question in his book Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon. Michael Shermer also offers up some ideas in How We Believe: Science, Skepticism, and the Search for God.

I am not suggesting that these ideas are a definitive explanation of why human history records almost a universal belief in god. I’m simply suggesting that there is considerable scope within the bounds of science to provide a rational explanation for the phenomenon. We do not need to invent god to answer this question any more than we need to believe in a supernatural entity to explain why we’re all born with an appendix that appears to serve no practical purpose.

In fact, it could be argued that our propensity for belief, coupled with tight familial ties, and our impressionable human nature, is at least a consistent and not altogether surprising explanation for why we have such universal adoption of religion and yet such regionalised diversity. It certainly appears a rather plausible explanation of why muslims breed muslims, and christians breed christians, when neither can produce any compelling evidence to support their mutually exclusive claims. It certainly appears more compelling to me than the notion that my christian religious experience is valid, but the religious experience of anyone outside of the christian faith is delusional. That’s not an argument. That’s just naiveté.

A great little article by Ricky Gervais (the funny guy from The Office and Extras) explaining how he went from a Jesus-loving christian to a fun-loving infidel in an afternoon.