On one of the commentary tracks of The God Who Wasn’t There, the films producer Brian Flemming interviewed The Raving Atheist. Within about a year of that interview, he had turned himself into The Raving Theist, having not only found God but an Abrahamic one at that. The change was interesting but hardly surprising. A lot of people go from atheist to theist. I’m sure it is more common for people to move the opposite direction, but that’s largely due to the greater number of theists. To me, such shifting of sides is an indictment of both movements.

I started thinking about this over the weekend when I listened to a Skepticon 3 panel discussion on “Confrontation vs. Accommodation.” It included Richard Carrier and other prominent (but not famous) atheists. And I found it kind of offensive. Most of the people on the panel were arguing that atheists who didn’t get in other people’s faces were “closeted.” And there was an explicit embrace of atheism as something that one should evangelize for. When people complain about atheists, it is not about them being atheists in a very public way. The problem is that the New Atheists are very often annoying as hell. Penn Jillette? Christopher Hitchens? Sam Harris? These men come off as pretentious jerks, because, you know, they are pretentious jerks.

In my experience, ignorance of the God question is just as pervasive in the atheist community as it is in the Christian community. This is how The Raving Atheist turns into The Raving Theist. Listening to most atheists talk, you would think that the only theological options are atheism and fundamental Christianity. Look: I understand: here in America, Christianity has a strong and pernicious hold. But I’m often struct by the fact that supposedly important thinkers in the atheist movement don’t seem to understand that some questions transcend the reality in which we find ourselves.

Richard Dawkins, for example, thinks that natural selection implies atheism. How is that? Natural selection is a mechanism. Why is it that mechanism rather than another? Can he really be blind to that question? I wonder why photon quanta have energies given by the frequency of the light times Planck’s constant. I wonder why Planck’s constant is 6.626e-34 Joule-seconds. Of course, it isn’t the case that Dawkins is blind to these questions. It is that he simply sees them as invalid and the people who ask them as starry eyed nitwits.

This is very similar to the attitude that I get from theists. Such questions are silly because the universe was made the way God wanted. But for the theists, that’s a perfectly acceptable answer. We don’t expect them to ask questions and push the envelope of our understanding. But we do expect that from our skeptics. Atheists simultaneously claim that (1) they are just following the facts and (2) certain questions are off limits, but they mock those who don’t share that view. And that makes them pretty annoying.

This kind of attitude is also bad for the atheist movement itself. Eventually some atheists will think about these questions that the movement has told them are invalid. And who are they going to turn to for answers? Certainly they won’t turn to the atheists who will just mock the questions if not the questioner. And they probably won’t know any atheists like me who not only acknowledge the questions but relish them. So they turn to the theists, who at least acknowledge the questions, even if their “answers” provide no insight at all. And thus we get the spectacle of The Raving A/Theist.

And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, New Atheists,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Afterword

That bit of Shakespeare is odd. The first and third lines are straight iambic pentameter (the first with a weak ending). But the second is a mess. It makes me wonder if the actual line wasn’t more like, “There are more things in heaven and earth, sir.” Or, “There are more things in heaven, Horatio.” It also explains why the lines are commonly misquoted as, “There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Actually, I kind of like this:

There are more things in heaven and earth, Dude,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

In the following 12 minute conversation (really more of a monologue), Richard Carrier explains why he is not a Christian. One of the reasons that I really like Carrier is that he isn’t an idiot. Unlike most atheists, I feel that he would understand where I come from. I’m an atheist but I understand the purpose of religion and I think those unanswerable questions are the most important questions there are. As I always say, my thinking about these issues never leads to answers, but it does lead to better questions. And that’s all I want: more insightful questions.

When it comes to the issue of Christianity, I am a pretty typical atheist. Christianity is a pretty silly religion. I don’t say that to be mean. All of the Abrahamic religions are silly. Anyone who thinks that they really answer the fundamental existential questions must have a very primitive notion of what those questions are. The Bible answers the great questions as much as Hugard and Braue’s Expert Card Technique. Look, both of those books are great—there is no question of that. And I love them both for completely different reasons. But neither has helped me understand my existence, which is so improbable that it can be treated as a singularity. (On the other hand, the Bible has some great stories in it and ECT has some swell card tricks.)

Carrier presents four reasons why he isn’t a Christian. The first is that God is silent. This is the biggest reason for me. If God cared about us at all, why did send his only begotten son to a backwater and then expect word to travel? Was it all part of God’s plan that billions of people should burn in hell because they just happened to grow up learning a different religion? Really?! If that is really who God is, he is either so unknowable or so evil that he does not deserve to be worshiped. This is like Theology 101. And I has a question to all the Christians in the US, “Do you think it is a coincidence that you think Christianity is true and you just happened to be born in a country that is overwhelmingly Christian?” Come on!

The rest of Carrier’s reasons aren’t as compelling. The second is basically the argument from evil. Why does God allow so much evil. He follows these with the fact that the evidence for Christianity sucks and that if Christianity were true, we would live in a different universe—one more like that described in the Bible. Christians have arguments for all of this, of course. In fact, they have arguments for every objection that we atheists have. The problem is that as they counter arguments, it becomes clear that only a fool would worship such a god. He is perfectly good, but in a way that we can’t comprehend. That is to say that whatever the hell he does is by definition good, which is what I call evil. What’s more, he is omnipotent, but not so omnipotent that he could provide us with a universe without paradoxes. (Good example: can God create something that is so heavy he can’t lift it?)

As usual, I really want to talk to other people about the wonder that I feel about my existence. People who are into New Age stuff are usually cranks, but they are open minded. Christians, on the other hand, nine times out of ten, just want to quote Bible versus. But there are two problems. First, I already know what the Bible says. Second, I know that the Bible is no more written by God than is Don Quixote. So these people don’t really want to talk about God. They’re more akin to Amway salesmen. It’s sad, really. They have long given up looking for God. And thus, they are dead to him, her, or whatever the hell it might be.

Damon Linker has written something over at The Week, Where Are the Honest Atheists? It starts off as a review of A. C. Grayling’s latest book, The God Argument. And that’s why I read the article, because I think Grayling is an insightful thinker, and I’ve ordered the book. So I was interested to hear what people were saying about it. After reading the article, however, I’m not sure that Linker has read the book.

In saying this, I don’t mean to imply that I’ve caught Linker at anything. He simply thinks that the world does not need another New Atheist book. This strikes me as odd, because I ordered the book because I don’t think of Grayling as being part of the New Atheist movement except in the most general terms. But I should know in a week or so. It has seemed to me up to this point that Grayling is a far better thinker than Dawkins, Hitchens, and Harris.

Most of Linker’s article is about the writer Philip Larkin and his dark images of a godless universe. Linker seems to think that atheism is only valid if proponents hate it. There is something to be said for that, I guess. I think what he really has a problem with is all the happy horseshit of atheists, who are often more New Age than a 60s commune. No, if we all become atheists, we would not all just get along. But there is a happy side of atheism that very few atheists understand. Certainly Linker, who I assume is an atheist, doesn’t seem to understand it:

I cannot think of a single thing as terrifying as immortality. Because if I lived forever, I would experience every one of the lesser terrors an infinite number of times. Who over the age of thirty thinks it would be cool to get older and older? Hell, I am only marginally happy with the workings of my body now; give it another 40 years and I’ll be begging for the lethal injection.

But there is a reason that we get so much happy horseshit from the New Atheists. The nonsecular world has been telling us for thousands of years that without God, there would be nothing but chaos because it is only out of fear and allegiance to God that people behave. That strikes me as a reasonable thing to argue against. Meanwhile, Linker sends us to Larkin, whose primary concern is that without God we will lose the sacred. But that’s something that the vast majority of the secular and nonsecular world have in common: the idea that God and the sacred have anything to do with each other.

There is a mystery to existence. Anyone who understands that communes with the sacred. God actually gets in the way of that because the way that most people conceptualize him (The pronoun tells all!) hides the question. This is like kindergarten theology, yet very few people seem to get it. Who created you? Your mother! And who created her? Her mother! Tracing that all the way back might get you to God, but it won’t get you to the sacred. Why? Because it isn’t about counting the turtles, it’s about accepting them.

Update (Almost Immediately)

I found this recent interview by Sam Harris with A.C. Grayling, and I must admit, I’m not impressed. In particular, this exchange is typical of what I think of as very low-level atheist thinking:

This is why I like the word “sacred.” The word “spirituality” could mean anything. I take great pleasure in long walks, but they are not in themselves spiritual or sacred. All the things he mentions are important things for humans to do, but they are beside the point. It’s like telling someone who is horny that they ought to go shoes shopping because that too is sensual.

With the holiday season upon us, I want to discuss Jesus and Santa Claus. And The Great Pumpkin. Jesus is much more like The Great Pumpkin than he is like Santa Claus. The reason is that Santa Claus delivers.

Each Christmas, there is physical evidence of Santa Claus. The cookies and milk disappear. The man shows up in shopping centers—with elves and sometimes reindeer. And most of all: presents arrive in the black of night. But don’t get me wrong: children are skeptical. I remember a couple of things that bugged me. First there was the fact that the whole enterprise seemed too large to get done in one night. And then the presents that Santa’s elves built where often in the same packages they were in at the stores. And we did not have a fireplace. But my mother was an excellent Santa Claus apologist, so it was all good.

Compare this to The Great Pumpkin. Linus waits in that stupid pumpkin patch every year and nothing ever happens. But does this cause Linus to renounce His Pumpkinness for the sham he is? No! Instead he blames himself. There was something wrong with his pumpkin patch or he said the wrong thing that offended The Great Pumpkin. It just couldn’t be that The Great Pumpkin doesn’t exist!

One of the biggest religious developments over the past few millennium is the move from magic to gods, or more to the point: spells to prayer. The reason for this is that magic can be disproved. If you cast a spell meant to ensure a good harvest and the harvest is bad: the spell didn’t work. On the other hand, if you pray to a god for a good harvest and the harvest is bad: it’s not the god’s fault; it clearly didn’t find your request deserving. You will continue to pray hoping to get it right. But that holy man who keeps promising food? You can tell he cares: he’s casting the spell. The problem is that he just isn’t any good. (I will allow that from the spell caster’s perspective, it is exactly the same as the prayer: he’s just not saying the right words or some such.)

And that brings us to Jesus. People pray to him all the time for this or that. They even pray for a good harvest! When there is a good harvest it is clear that prayer works! When there is a bad harvest it is clear that prayer works but also that God works in mysterious ways. This works out really well for Jesus & Co. They get all the credit for good things, none of the blame for bad things, and either way the followers are more convinced than ever in the power of their belief.

Atheists often claim that believing in Jesus is very much like believing in Santa Claus. I think this is a great insult to children who believe in gold ol’ St. Nick. If the cookies started collecting ants and the presents didn’t arrive, how long would 5-year-olds continue to believe in him? In fact, most kids do finally figure out that Santa is just a game. There is too much dissonance in the story—too much that just doesn’t add up.

Surprisingly few theists do the same.

Afterword

The same goes for the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. These are myths who produce the goods! By the way, I think the Tooth Fairy rocks. I mean, a real tooth miner would come in at night and yank the teeth right out of your mouth. But the Tooth Fairy is like a recycler. Very cool!

Also: I found this Christian apologia for why believing in Jesus makes sense when belief in Santa does not, Why do you believe in Jesus but not Santa Claus? In a word, it is pathetic. Most of the arguments aren’t even true in the narrowest of terms. The author states, “The writings concerning Jesus exhibit a historical, cultural, religious, and political context…” This is also true of Santa Claus. Has the man never watched Santa Claus is Coming to Town? But what is most pathetic about the article is that its main argument is, “But Jesus is real and Santa Claus is not!” And that is an argument any 5-year-old could make the other way around. Just because you just know something is true is not evidence for its existence.

Here is a very good cartoon by Atheist Experience contributor Tracie Harris:

But I don’t accept the point of this. Yes, I find foo-foo spiritualists as annoying as the next guy. But I do understand the difference between “spiritual” and “religious.” And I dare say so does Tracie Harris.

What they mean is that they have airy ideas about other worldly phenomenon, but they don’t follow a religious dogma. And for that, I think we should encourage them. In fact, I think they are generally very open to hearing about new things. Generally, they are a hell of lot more interesting to talk to than are most religious people.

Of course, I would recommend that they read Robert Price’s excellent Top Secret: The Truth Behind Today’s Pop Mysticisms. But I’ve found such people to be interested in learning more. This doesn’t, however, mean that they are likely to ever give up their airy ideas.

I am perhaps particularly sympathetic to these people’s concern about the words “spiritual” and “religious.” Most people consider me an atheist, but I think of myself as a spiritual seeker. True: my spiritual quest is mostly centered on culture and community. But there are Very Big Ideas involved in this question, especially what Denys Turner calls the only real spiritual question, “Why does the universe exist?”

I’m all for slapping religious and spiritual people when they’re being evil. But when they are just being stupid, perhaps we should be a bit more understanding. And I mean that in every sense.

Afterword

Tracie Harris is a very good cartoonist. Check out her other work!

I was thinking about the Parable of the Prodigal Son recently. Ever since I was a kid I hated this story. It was just terrible. How could a father treat a loyal son in this way?!

It’s interesting, really. As the story moves on, it seems like it is coming to a big ending. The son says, “Why are you celebrating the return of this jerk?!” And we expect the father to say something like, “But you will always be my favorite and I’m going to give you a pony tomorrow.” Or something. But no. Instead, it’s just, “Yeah. I’m a dick. I take you for granted. I’m an asshole that way. But I have no intention of changing, so buck up, sucker!”

Here is the text from the New American Standard Bible, which I understand is one of the translations that stays closest to the original Greek:

Out of the blue, I realized that this story is about the redemptive power of Christianity. Even though you have frittered away all the great things God gave you, he will still welcome you back. Yes, yes, I know: I’m dense. But now that I understand it, I understand better what I don’t like about Christianity.

This story brings us back to the Mother Teresa / Jeffrey Dahmer problem. This is simple. Mother Teresa seemed to have had doubts about Christianity toward the end of her life. By Christian dogma, if she lost her faith, she is in hell. On the other hand, Jeffrey Dahmer became a Christian while in prison. If he truly found Jesus, then he’s in heaven right now. I don’t see how such a system can be seen as anything but evil. Even allowing that both of them got into heaven, by the parable, God must have yawned when Mother Teresa arrived but had a big party for Dahmer.

I know what my Christian friends would say. It would be some variation on, “God works in mysterious ways.” This seems to me the ultimate cop out. If God’s ways are not just inscrutable, but absolutely contrary to our normal sense of morality, how can we possibly believe he should be worshiped? The “Good News” that Christians talk about is that regardless of how awful you are, if you follow Jesus you will have an eternity of bliss and regardless of how good you are, if you don’t follow Jesus you will have an eternity of torment. I don’t see how this news is good and I don’t see how anyone could find it a compelling reason to believe.

I am getting closer and closer to developing a spiritual belief system that works in the modern world. One that does not necessitate believing in folk tales, denying science, or hating people who are different. Thinking about Christianity helps me in this endeavor. Most people read the Bible and think, “How can I make this work for me in the modern world.” I ask a different question, “Why doesn’t this work in the modern world?”

Let’s be honest: Christianity does not work in the modern world. God hasn’t written anything down for us and he is not writing through anyone, except perhaps in the most oblique way. Finding God (for lack or a better term) is an process that requires constant change as advances are made in science and philosophy. Any religion must be a work in progress. Christianity may have been state of the art 2000 years ago, but it is not today. Imagine what kind of religious thought we could have if men like William Lane Craig spent their lives trying to improve on Christianity rather than trying to shoehorn reality into it.

[1] These are supposedly Jesus’ actual words. It doesn’t sound like he has a problem with slavery either. I understand that apologists would likely claim that he is talking about the kingdom of heaven. But I don’t see what this buys us. There are slaves in heaven? Gabriel is a slave, perhaps? This is what you get when you insist that the 2000 year old document is the divine word of God.