The following is the concluding segment of my three-part reflection on contemporary atheism and Christianity. Part One featured an introduction and review of Daniel Dennett’s Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon (Viking, 2006). Part Two included a review of Alister McGrath’s response to the New Atheism movement, Why God Won’t Go Away: Is the New Atheism Running On Empty? (Thomas Nelson, 2010).
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Christians—as theists—cannot define atheism on their own terms, a definition which often involves theological language. I have often heard progressive Christians say that when confronted by atheists, they always ask which god they don’t believe in, and then proceed to counter, “I don’t believe in that god, either.” The point of atheism is that the person does not believe in any god, whether liberal and loving or capricious and judgmental. The rejection by atheists of Classical definitions of God does not inherently justify the reality of a non-Classical (say, Postmodern) God. Reframing the argument in theistic terms is not helpful for honest discussion.
But nor can atheists define theism or religion on their own terms, as Dennett does. Painting the bulls-eye around the arrow offers little more than confirmation bias, and also fails to move the conversation forward in any meaningful way. The problem, it seems, comes from an apparent lack of a mutually agreed-upon starting point.
If one wanted a decently valid and succinct argument against the existence of a benevolent deity, I think that Neil DeGrasse Tyson offers one of the best. Tyson, an astrophysicist, has stated on numerous occasions that he finds it difficult to believe in a god who loves and cares for creation when we live in a universe that is constantly trying its very best to kill us. The implication here (as in Dennett’s primary thesis) is that religious faith sprang naturally from the leisure time of human animals who had somehow discovered a way to fight back against this malevolent universe. In this sense, theology is little more than the privilege of philosophy afforded to those who managed to cheat nature via the first agricultural revolution and the congregating of homo sapiens into mutually supportive communities with sophisticated social structures that took the burden of survival off the individual and placed it on the collective. Even this claim falls short, however, despite its sensibility. Consider the case of Göbekli Tepe, the ancient Turkish site considered by many archaeologists to be the oldest known place of human worship. For decades, anthropologists assumed that the argument I outlined above provided a compelling rationale for the emergence of religion. It was recently suggested, however, that the construction of Göbekli Tepe pre-dates that of the Neolithic agricultural revolution that ultimately led to increased leisure time. This discovery has helped to re-write how anthropologists and historians have understood the origins of religious worship. Homo sapiens has been offering worship to supernatural deities since the very earliest stages of our evolution. Even when the reality of human life was, as Thomas Hobbes noted, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short,” in a universe that was unceasingly attempting to wipe us from the face of the earth by way of disease, famine, and natural predators, hominids still found the need to express wonder for the universe and to offer some sense of reverence to the force or forces that controlled it all. Of course religion should be studied—there are many questions left to explore. If the the theory behind theistic evolution (not “intelligent design”) is correct, at what point in our evolutionary process did we become cognizant of God? When we were little more than apes whose sole concern was to consume enough calories to survive each day, were we aware that a deity had been helping us along? We must explore these questions cautiously, with the understanding that they may never be decisively answered. It is not a question of the possibility of “breaking the spell,” but rather a question of sincerity and openness to truth, wherever that quest might lead us.
I have written these reflections as one who has spent a good deal of the last several years of my life on the fence between theism and atheism (though I have never personally considered anti-theism). In sum, I have no certainty either way. Though I would not describe myself as an agnostic, faith is not something I have been gifted with, nor is it something that comes easily. I often feel that I have little control over my beliefs; some days I wake up and believe most fervently in the Living Triune God and in the self-sacrificial example of Jesus Christ, and see the long arc of history culminating in a grand eschatological plan for bodily resurrection and the redemption of all creation. I pray and I sit in silence before a little altar I have constructed in my house, and I sense the immanence of the transcendent God with me there in my tiny room. Other days I wake up and know in my heart of hearts that humankind is just another animal stuck on a meaningless rock in a corner of the universe with no ultimate purpose except to live and die as best we can, thankful that our ancestors at least afforded us the luxury of leisure time for philosophical reflection (or perhaps cursing them for that very privilege). On the days that I share these respective convictions, they are each my most vivid reality.
I am skeptical of theology’s ability to provide any sort of certainty regarding physical reality, though I am hopeful of its ability to help humanity find meaning. Yet I am also made uneasy by the claims of secular humanism, which seeks to value human intellect and progress above all other aspects of creation. Many of the humanists I have conversed with have admitted that their humanism often insufficiently addresses our place among other non-human animals (which creates its own difficulty for me as a tree-hugging, animal-loving vegetarian), a glaring ignorance that I find highly problematic for a worldview that eschews religious faith as irrational superstition. In other words, it is hopelessly anthropocentric, whereas I find Christian theology provides hope for all creation in the Apostle Paul’s prophecy that God might someday become “all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28). Secular humanism also appears to have some sort of vague eschatology in mind, as well: a world in which human cooperation leads to a common welfare among all people. Dennett acknowledges his own “sacred values”: “democracy, justice, life, love, and truth (in alphabetical order)” (p.23). Ethically speaking, secular humanism encourages people to do what they can in service to these virtues, which happen to closely resemble the virtues of many religious folk.
Contemporary Christian theology can offer few serious and conclusive answers to the accusations of the New Atheists, primarily because the New Atheists (like many fundamentalist Christians) seem less interested in serious dialogue as their primary objective than in eradicating religion altogether. When both parties approach a conversation with the assumption that they are correct and must defend their positions tooth and nail, little progress will be found. “Those who refuse to participate (because they already know the answers in their hearts),” Dennett says, “are, from the point of view of the rest of us, part of the problem” (p.14). However, we do have much to teach and much to learn from moderate atheists who do not approach the question of theism from a position of epistemological superiority. Perhaps if we might align our values, if we can acknowledge a definitive starting point for theological (or “atheological”?) reflection, we might come to a more robust understanding of not only our own positions, but those of our sisters and brothers of different convictions, as well. It is unlikely that any definitive “smoking gun” answer will come along and satisfy the curiosity of theists and atheists alike. God is certainly not going away, and neither are atheists. But it is very likely that we might come to a deeper appreciation of the humanity of those on both sides of the debate, regardless of where we end up ourselves.
Further Reading
- Küng, Hans. Does God Exist?: An Answer for Today. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1980.
- Loftus, John W. The Christian Delusion: Why Faith Fails. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2010.
- Moltmann, Jürgen. God for a Secular Society: The Public Relevance of Theology. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999.
- Onfray, Michel. Atheist Manifesto: The Case Against Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. New York: Arcade, 2007.
- Willis, W. Waite, Jr. Theism, Atheism, and the Doctrine of the Trinity: The Trinitarian Theologies of Karl Barth and Jürgen Moltmann in Response to Protest Atheism. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987.
Joshua, I was encouraged with the beginning of your article – your implication (I think) of the need to define God before we argue for or against God’s existence. But, having time only for a single read at the moment, thereafter it seemed you defaulted to the concept of God as only defined via classic theism. You may personally be aware that a sizable group of very sharp philosophers and theologians have carefully, from various lines of evidence, defined God in somewhat different terms, calling it “panentheism”. (Whitehead, Hartshorne, Cobb, Griffin, and several others). Most people do NOT know of their contributions to the “debate”, important and insightful as they are.
I would add to your list of recommended reading a short and very clear, concise (though not “easy” for lightly educated lay readers perhaps) book of 114 pages by David R Griffin entitled “Two Great Truths: A New Synthesis of Scientific Naturalism and Christian Faith”. In other words, a synthesis of naturalism and supernaturalism… though our dialectical language seems to exclude such a possibility. That reflects a limitation of language more than a stretch of reality. It’s a very eye-opening and important contribution to the theism-atheism discussion! Highly recommended.
your comments betray one who is not on the fence.
The reference to John Loftus made me chuckle, as he’s the only person I’m aware of who makes Richard Dawkins look smart. If I had to pick one of the best cases for theistic belief as well as against the materialism of the new atheism, I’d go with David Bentley Hart’s latest book. I agree with your statement about the lack of agreed upon starting point, though would point out that the classical conception of God, as Hart (and most other theologians and philosophers who are in the classical tradition) cannot actually be rejected.
Could comment on the content here and engage in this and that, but right now the more interesting question for my personal life is this: Where can one find community? While I can’t say I have too many days I believe in the Triune God and I might presently be slightly on one side of this more than another, I can say that I find this kind of dialog engaging. I find it much more engaging than the Christian communities I must participate in out of social obligation and in order to keep my family together. And I find it much more engaging than most of the non- (no, really anti-) theist communities in which I’ve had opportunity to engage in from time to time. In the real world, in my personal circumstances I find very few people who I could engage in such a conversation with. My question is this: Where can one find this kind of community? Who should I reach out to? Would welcome any tips.
Brian P, have you tried the Quakers?
I’ve had these feelings as well in my lifetime(faith in the unseen isn’t my strength, either), but, what settled the issue for me is the historicity relating to the resurrection of Christ and the eyewitnesses to it. Even non confessional scholars agree Jesus existed, was executed on a cross under Trajan’s rule and His disciples believed He was resurrected.
Studying Jewish and Gentiles cultures in that day, they would not have made up this story nor used any of the details they did, it is exactly the opposite of what you would make up back then and we know some of the eyewitnesses were martyred. No one makes up a story and is willing to die for a known lie.
Throw in James and Paul and it is even more exceptionally strong evidence.
So, we Christians have that to rely on. It’s a point of data that has helped keep me in the faith going on 45 years now.
Thank you all for your comments. I’ll try to catch up with my responses briefly below:
Howard: What led you to believe that I came to rest on the notion of a classical god? I am indeed familiar with panentheism, as well as many of the philosophers/theologians who are credited with the advent of process theology, like Whitehead and Cobb. Though there is a distinction to be drawn between panentheism and process theology, I would say that the former best describes my current belief system. Thank you for the recommended reading.
Bob: In what way do my comments “betray” one who is not on the fence? I currently lean more on the side of Christianity than that of atheism, though about a year and a half ago I would have told you I was an atheist, if pressed. But I rest on the side of Christianity uneasily, as I mention both in the introduction and conclusion to this series.
whitefrozen: Thanks for the suggestion. I’ve liked what I’ve read of Hart so far.
Brian P.: Patrice’s suggestion is a good one, I think. I spent some time identifying as a Quaker last year; attended meetings for worship when I could and worked for a Quaker organization called the American Friends Service Committee. The Quakers (a.k.a. the Religious Society of Friends) are very open to all kinds of beliefs. In fact, there are even Friends who identify as atheist or non-theist Friends. They are very welcoming, and for me served as a kind of stepping stone back to faith. Many Quakers attend what are called “unprogrammed” meetings for worship. Instead of any structured service, they simply sit in silence together, only speaking if they feel moved to do so. No preachers, no offerings, no hymns. Just silent meditation/prayer. After a while, though, I came to miss a lot of the rituals associated with other churches, and moved on from the Quaker meeting to a Mennonite church here in the KC area. It was only a small step, as both the Mennonites and the Quakers are part of the Peace Church tradition (along with the Church of the Brethren, and very recently the Community of Christ, formerly the RLDS), and run a partnership organization together known as Christian Peacemaker Teams. I sincerely hope, wherever you end up, that you find fulfillment and whatever else you may be looking for.
Patrick: It’s interesting that you mention the resurrection, because that’s what finally brought me back to faith, as well. Throughout college and most of seminary I did not believe in the physical resurrection of Christ, and frequently argued that one could easily be a Christian without believing in the resurrection. Finally, when I hit my low point a while back, I decided to take a class at a local seminary on “Resurrection in the New Testament,” just to see if there actually were any decent arguments to be made in favor of the phenomenon (and assuming beforehand that there would not be). The class ultimately changed my mind and my life. We read Wright’s massive volume, The Resurrection of the Son of God, Anthony Thiselton’s new book, Life After Death: A New Approach to the Last Things, and Beth Felker Jones’ Marks of His Wounds: Gender Politics and Bodily Resurrection, as well as several journal articles on the subject written by the professor who taught the course.
I also agree with your statement regarding James and Paul. While we may not have any first-hand witnesses (depending on whether or not the Epistle of James was actually written by James the brother of Jesus), we do have the collected works of a man who knew and worked with Peter, and spent his life building the church based on the story he received from them (and, supposedly, a “conversion” event).
But while I agree with your assertion that “no one makes up a story and is willing to die for a known lie,” at the same time we must be careful to avoid the Martyr’s Fallacy (although, as I mentioned in the comments section in the previous post, just because an argument is fallacious does not necessitate its falsity).
Reblogged this on James’ Ramblings.
Joshua, I probably did miscast what you’d said in your post, as to thinking you’d come “to rest on the notion of a classical god”. As I mentioned, I did a single read originally, and that a fast one (but complete), so I’m not sure what it was that skewed my perception a bit. I DID note some of your statements of ambivalence or uncertainty.
A couple things in your responses to me and others further intrigue me: First, as to panentheism in relation to Process theology (I personally think it helps to use cap “P” but know it may “officially” be “p”). I’m admittedly guessing a bit here, but if I grasp your implication, may I ask what it is in or about Process theology (vs. just panentheism) that you find either inadequate, misleading or whatever? About a year or so ago I got Roger Olsen to comment directly to me about his view of it and I can’t recall all of it, but it was brief and he said basically that he HAD looked closely, many years prior, and just found it unsatisfying. I realize it does not tend to easily “catch on” with people, whether lightly or heavily educated.
But given the paucity of other good paradigms, I’ve certainly found it to be “necessary” in a way…. In other words, to end up with less problems and more explanatory power than classic theism, atheism, “classic” liberalism, pantheism or any other system I’m aware of (and I have quite a bit of exposure). In addition, it seems compatible with systems (again, more sophisticated than old-line liberalism) that provide good guidelines for understanding the nature and content of the Bible, such as Borg’s “Taking the Bible Seriously but not Literally” kind of approach. (I recall Borg basically endorsing Process at a point or two in that book and perhaps another(s) of his… I’ve not read a lot by him.)
Second: I appreciate the mention of a couple books relevant to if not ON the Resurrection of which I was not aware. Your comments in that section leave me curious. (Might you write a whole post on that, or even a short series, perhaps?). After many years an Evangelical and deep Bible/theology student, and now over 15 as more a Process thinker (or “perennial” philosophy), I still have unanswered curiosity about the real nature of whatever “resurrection” appearances Paul speaks of and he and the Gospel writers claim for others. And I don’t believe we do have any direct “eyewitness reports”… not even convinced, by any real evidence, that the Gospel writers got THEIR reports directly from any such witnesses.
Rather my informed hunch is that, if any of them, including Luke, DID speak with them, they later still molded whatever they were told to fit their theological/polemical agendas. So I doubt they had anything real clearly “physical”, of the nature of a resuscitated body, though of a new sort. I’ve not read much of Wright on the subj., but the little I did in his joint (interactive) book with Borg on the Meaning of Jesus, I didn’t find it particularly fresh or compelling. Similarly, Bauckham, tho I didn’t plow through his whole “Eyewitness” book. That being said, SOMETHING at least unusual or unfamiliar to our modern conceptions (and I do believe in healings, charismatic “gifts”, etc.) must have happened to stir up the beliefs as quickly as they arose, and as strongly. But I don’t at all see why it had to be a “hands-in-my-side”, eating-together kind of physical appearance.
Finally, as to James, on the assumption that the canonical book is either by him (i.e., Jesus’ brother, head of the Jeru. believers) or a disciple relaying his position, is there anything in it that tends to confirm HIS belief in Jesus’ physical resurrection? I just re-read it yet again the other day and don’t recall right off that anything in it referred to or even implied a resurrection, in addition to being very light on ANY statements of the importance of Jesus as a person, whether human or divine Messiah. Reflecting Jesus’ teachings, yes, it seems clear, but elevating him to divine status or “savior of the world/cosmos” via an atoning sacrificial death, proven by resurrection? “Strangely” absent. (That is, from an Evangelical standpoint or even the traditional view of the faith of the Jerusalem believers and birth of the “Church”).
I don’t know enough about Process theology to embrace or reject it. Honestly, my specialty is New Testament biblical studies, and this whole theology game is just a side gig for me. 🙂
I probably won’t be writing a full post on the resurrection any time soon, in part because I am currently buried under a mound of homework at the moment. However, in response to your comments, I will say that the notion of a “spiritual” resurrection is something that has roots in gnosticism and Greek philosophy, but not in ancient Christianity. Paul argues quite adamantly (though indirectly) that Christ’s resurrection was a bodily resurrection in 1 Cor. 15 by patterning the general resurrection of the dead on the resurrection of Jesus. But the historicity of it is another matter altogether, although I think too much has been made of the supposed “lack of evidence” among earliest sources. It is, in fact, just as likely that the “empty tomb” (also referred to in some circles as the “Jesus event”) actually occurred in one way or another as did the Sermon on the Mount/Plain. The empty tomb is the focal point of all four gospels—the Sermon on the Mount/Plain, as much as I love it, is only found in Matthew and adapted by Luke. It is important not to discredit the possibility of something occurring in history simply because it defies our modern (or postmodern) sensibilities. That’s throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Sorry for not presenting a more nuanced argument here, but it’s getting a bit late, and I have an essay exam due soon.
As for James, you are correct that this particular epistle appears absent of any clear reference to resurrection (although I’ve often cast a suspicious eye at 1:9). But that doesn’t mean much. To recognize that the author doesn’t mention it is not to say that it was not on their theological radar. Even so, Jamesian Christianity differed from Pauline Christianity, and Pauline from Petrine or Johannine, and they all had their particular respective emphases. However, the epistle does frequently refer to “our glorious Lord Jesus Messiah,” and for whatever it might be worth, the author clearly believes in some sort of parousia, as evidenced by 5:7-8.
All of this aside, I would highly recommend Wright’s massive book, in addition to Thiselton’s more modern philosophical (rather than theological) approach. Don’t let the cheesy title and cover image of Thiselton’s book fool you—it’s a dense and complicated work. Also, if you are interested I can share a Google Drive folder with you that has a lot of journal articles from my class on the subject.
What if Christians are completely God-less? Christians are by self-definition and therefore always dramatized action, sinners.
Sin is the presumption of separation from God or the Living Divine Reality.
There is no Real existence until sin is transcended. All actions and states of presumed knowledge and experience are empty, painful, problematic, and sinful until the presumption of separation from the Living Divine Reality is utterly transcended.
There is no truly human life with Divine Communion, or the submission/surrender of the entire conscious and functional being to the Absolute Divine Reality within which it appears, on which it depends completely, even for the next breath.
Without such Divine Communion there is no true humanity, responsibility of freedom. Without Divine-Communion the individual is simply a functional entity living the unconscious adventure of pre-patterned functional relations. There is no sacred or Divine plane to his or her awareness, even while all the time talking about the Biblical God-idea, the Bible itself and Jesus.
Joshua,
One more thought I got today at church.
I Peter I is dealing specifically with this dilemma. There are other passages advancing this thought, but, it seems God Himself is testing our faith constantly for the cause of refining and strengthening our faith so as to enhance our own reward status in eternity. Heck, who knows, maybe the doubts were part of His plan for us???
I may be wrong, but, I think we are going to have greater reward and/or evaluation from Christ because we DID have doubts and hung in there. If I never had my faith challenged, there is no chance I ever would have gotten to where I am now and I like where I am now. Besides being old that is.