It’s launch day for my new book—please buy early and often!
I posted a summary of the book yesterday, but here’s the one-liner: a young man takes a reluctant journey into the defense of Christianity and realizes that the truth of religion is something you must decide for yourself.
While the books of the New Atheists are nonfiction rebuttals of the reasons for Christianity, Cross Examined: An Unconventional Spiritual Journey explores that material as fiction. I hope that for many readers, ideas that might be tedious or boring become part of an engaging and mind-broadening journey.
Atheism has been a plot element in many novels, but this may be the first that explores the specific arguments in defense of Christianity that are energetically discussed in society today. Whether you’re a thoughtful Christian who enjoyed the intellectual workout of books such as C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity or an atheist who prefers Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, this book has something for you.
Buy Cross Examined at Amazon today (270 pages, paperback, $11.95).
Thank you!
Yearly Archives: 2011
Give Something Thought Provoking for Christmas
I’d like to suggest something for the hard-to-buy-for people on your Christmas list—something a little more intellectual than a tie or gift certificate. My new book, Cross Examined: An Unconventional Spiritual Journey is now available at Amazon. I wrote my first notes about this project over eight years ago, so I’m pretty excited to finally be able to share it with you.
While many books defend the atheist position, this book takes a fictional approach to tough counter-apologetics arguments. Indeed, the intellectual debate almost becomes another character within the story.
The book targets two audiences. First, I want to give thoughtful Christians something to think about and to encourage complacent Christians to critique the foundations of their religion. Many Christian leaders make exactly this point, that they too want to push Christians to think. I think of the book as an intellectual workout—a taxing project, perhaps, but one that leaves the reader a stronger person.
Second, I want to reach atheists who might enjoy approaching these intellectual arguments in fiction rather than in the usual nonfiction form.
The book is set in Los Angeles in 1906, in an odd new church that is suddenly world famous. The pastor’s prediction of imminent disaster had been front-page news the day before the great San Francisco earthquake—true story. Here’s the back-cover summary:
In 1906, three men share a destiny forged by a prophecy of destruction. That prophecy comes true with staggering force with the San Francisco earthquake and fire, and young assistant pastor Paul Winston is cast into spiritual darkness when his fiancée is among the dead. Soon Paul finds himself torn between two powerful mentors: the charismatic pastor who rescued him from the street and an eccentric atheist who gradually undercuts Christianity’s intellectual foundation.
As he grapples with the shock to love and faith, Paul’s past haunts him. He struggles to retain his faith, the redemptive lifesaver that keeps him afloat in a sea of guilt. But the belief that once saved him now threatens to destroy the man he is becoming.
Paul discovers that redemption comes in many forms. A miracle of life. A fall from grace. A friend resurrected. A secret discovered. And maybe, a new path taken. He realizes that religion is too important to let someone else decide it for him. The choice in the end is his—will it be one he can live with?
Cross Examined challenges the popular intellectual arguments for Christianity and invites the reader to shore them up … or discard them. Take the journey and see where it leads you.
Buy copies for those hard-to-buy-for friends who would enjoy a little different approach to the Christian/atheist debate. It’s guaranteed to be far more intellectually stimulating than a tie or gift certificate (and less cliché than frankincense or myrrh). Thanks!
Bob Seidensticker
An Atheist Ad Campaign—a Holiday Tradition!
Today, Seattle Atheists launches an ad campaign on local buses. Twelve buses will carry banner ads with photos of four people in average settings with the tag line, “1 in 4 is an Atheist.” The campaign runs through early January.
One in four Seattle residents has no god belief—in other words, they are atheists. Seattleites may not consider that the person who sold them their morning coffee might have been an atheist. Or the person who drove their bus or repaired their car or did their taxes or treated their illness. Atheists are their coworkers, their friends, their family. Whether they realize it or not, they know plenty of atheists.
These are smart people who take pride in their work and love their families and appreciate the great things about America, just like religious people.
The Problem. While atheists do their part within society, they don’t always get the same consideration in return. They’re sometimes told, “This is a Christian nation and if you don’t like it, move to Europe.” Some risk their jobs by revealing who they are, and some risk ostracism and the loss of their family or community. Some are bullied or discriminated against within schools or by the military. Seeing this, many atheists remain silent. Many churchgoers are among these silent atheists.
The political season is a time when atheists are particularly reminded how out of step they are with much of America. The U.S. House recently passed a resolution to reassure us that, yes, “In God We Trust” is still our national motto. Governors appeal for prayer to solve problems rather than using the power of their office. Political candidates often vie with each other to be the most Christian. When it comes to people we wouldn’t vote for, atheists are at the bottom.
What Atheists Want (and What They Don’t Want). Many of the fears Christians have about atheists are invented by clergy or politicians. American already is a secular nation—the Constitution makes this clear—but that’s not a threat to Christians. Indeed, it’s the best environment for Christians.
Christians can send their children to public school and know that they won’t hear a Bahá’í or Satanist prayer. Christians can go to a city council meeting and not see “Allahu Akbar” in Arabic script on the wall. Christians can go into a courtroom and not see a Shinto or Hindu god of jurisprudence glaring down at him. But while government is constrained in its religious speech, citizens are not, and Christians can still preach or hand out flyers in the public square. Everyone wins.
Atheists don’t want Christians denied their right to free speech. When atheists object to preachers recommending political candidates or “Under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, they don’t want to limit the rights of Christians or get special privileges, they just want equality.
Next Steps. If you’re an atheist, consider coming out. Politely make your presence known. The biggest factor in the American public becoming more tolerant of homosexuals was simply knowing one, and it works the same way for atheists. But whether or not you feel comfortable making your atheism public, find local atheist or freethought groups and connect with your community.
If you’re a theist, be aware that there are atheists all around you. These are people just like you, honest and hardworking. Instead of praying before a meeting, evangelizing in the workplace, or putting a Jesus fish on your web site, consider if actions like these may offend others. Encourage your friends to speak their mind and be who they are.
Word of the Day: Poe’s Law
About a month ago, I wrote a post titled, “A Powerful Defense of Reason … or Maybe Not.” It was a letter from a pastor arguing both sides of the question of reason—that reason is a gift from God … but that it steers the honest Christian man or woman away from faith. That reason eliminated disease like smallpox … but that Martin Luther called it “the greatest enemy of faith.”
The pastor who wrote it was Rev. Phineas P. Stopgauge—a made-up name for a made-up letter. Though it was a parody (and had decent clues that it was), I received feedback from someone who seemed to have thought it real.
And this brings up Poe’s Law:
Without a winking smiley or other blatant display of humor, it is impossible to create a parody of Fundamentalism that someone won’t mistake for the real thing.
Is Landover Baptist Church a parody? Apparently so. How about Fred “God Hates Fags” Phelps? Apparently not. It’s hard to tell. This shows the versatility of the (supposedly) immutable religion that it can morph into any form, even as parody, and still be mistaken for earnest Christianity.
We see an early example in the Cardiff Giant, a giant petrified man discovered by well diggers near Syracuse, NY in 1869. But the entire thing was a hoax, commissioned by atheist George Hull and planted where it would be accidentally “discovered.” Hull’s goal was to show how easy it was to fool Americans, especially Christians who believed that “There were giants in the earth in those days” (Gen. 6:4).
Even after scientists rejected the find and Hull admitted to the hoax, the Giant was still a popular tourist attraction. P.T. Barnum offered the modern equivalent of millions of dollars, but the owners wouldn’t sell. He created his own Giant to display and argued that his was the real fake and the other one was the fake fake. Barnum’s conclusion: “The American people love to be humbugged.”
A recent example was the “GOD IS SO GOOD!!!!” video by TamTamPamela, an earnest 20-something woman from Florida talking about how fantastic it was that, in the lead-up to Easter, God showed himself to atheists through the March 11 Japan earthquake and tsunami (find more details about this event at the ThinkAtheist blog).
A few days later, after her address and phone number had been publicized and she received the obligatory delivery of unwanted pizza, she publicly stated that the whole thing had been just a provocation.
That this wasn’t obvious to begin with, and that a Christian could plausibly make this statement, makes this a classic example of Poe’s Law.
Photo credit: Wikimedia
Related posts:
- See all the definitions in the Cross Examined Glossary.
Jesus and Santa Claus
Harriett Hall (the SkepDoc) wrote a clever story about two kids trying to figure out whether the tooth fairy really exists or not. Inspired by that, and in keeping with the season, I’d like to imagine two kids arguing about Santa.
It was early December, and little Jerry had begun to doubt the existence of Santa Claus. He made his case to his younger brother Kyle.
“I don’t think Santa is real. I think it’s just Mom and Dad buying us presents,” Jerry said.
“Prove it,” Kyle said.
“Okay, why are there all those Santas on the street corners ringing for money? How can Santa be at all those stores at once?”
“They’re not the real Santa, just his helpers,” Kyle said. “And maybe they’re just testing us to see if we’ll still believe. I’m going to believe, because if you don’t, you don’t get presents.”
“But I recognized one of them—it was the father of one of my friends.”
“Then those are just ordinary people imitating Santa, raising money for a good cause. Anyway, I’ve seen Santa on TV at Thanksgiving—everyone has.”
Jerry sees that he’s not making any progress, so he gives up. On Christmas afternoon, he’s alone with Kyle and tries again. “Remember that video game that you told Mom about and then you forgot to tell Santa?” Jerry said. “But you got it anyway. Mom must’ve bought it and written on the package that it came from Santa.”
“Mom just told Santa,” Kyle said.
“But how can Santa get around the world in one night?”
“My friends all say that Santa is real. Anyway, Santa has magic. And the cookie plate we leave out for Santa always has just crumbs on Christmas morning.”
“With the Junior Detective kit that I got this morning, I dusted the cookie plate for fingerprints, and they were Mom’s.”
“Mom set out the plate, and Santa wears gloves.”
Jerry gives up for the year. On Christmas afternoon the next year, he tries again. “Lots of the older kids don’t believe in Santa. They say that their presents only come from their parents.”
“Sure,” Kyle said. “Santa only gives presents to those who still believe in him.”
“A few months ago, I was snooping in Dad’s sock drawer, and I found every letter we ever wrote to Santa.”
“Why not? Santa didn’t need them anymore and each year just gives them to Mom and Dad for keepsakes.”
“The only fingerprints on our presents are Mom’s or Dad’s.”
“Mom and Dad always get up early on Christmas. They could’ve rearranged them.”
“Last week, I found all our presents hidden in a corner in the attic.” Jerry pawed through some of the torn wrapping paper. “I wrote my initials on the bottom of each package. And look—here they are. That proves that Santa didn’t bring them here last night.”
“I asked Mom, and she said that Santa is real. Anyway, how do I know you didn’t write your initials on the wrapping paper this morning?”
“I don’t think Santa is real. I think it’s just Mom and Dad buying us presents,” Jerry said.
“Prove it,” Kyle said.
“Okay, why are there all those Santas on the street corners ringing for money? How can Santa be at all those stores at once?”
“They’re not the real Santa, just his helpers,” Kyle said. “And maybe they’re just testing us to see if we’ll still believe. I’m going to believe, because if you don’t, you don’t get presents.”
“But I recognized one of them—it was the father of one of my friends.”
“Then those are just ordinary people imitating Santa, raising money for a good cause. Anyway, I’ve seen Santa on TV at Thanksgiving—everyone has.”
Jerry sees that he’s not making any progress, so he gives up. On Christmas afternoon, he’s alone with Kyle and tries again. “Remember that video game that you told Mom about and then you forgot to tell Santa?” Jerry said. “But you got it anyway. Mom must’ve bought it and written on the package that it came from Santa.”
“Mom just told Santa,” Kyle said.
“But how can Santa get around the world in one night?”
“My friends all say that Santa is real. Anyway, Santa has magic. And the cookie plate we leave out for Santa always has just crumbs on Christmas morning.”
“With the Junior Detective kit that I got this morning, I dusted the cookie plate for fingerprints, and they were Mom’s.”
“Mom set out the plate, and Santa wears gloves.”
Jerry gives up for the year. On Christmas afternoon the next year, he tries again. “Lots of the older kids don’t believe in Santa. They say that their presents only come from their parents.”
“Sure,” Kyle said. “Santa only gives presents to those who still believe in him.”
“A few months ago, I was snooping in Dad’s sock drawer, and I found every letter we ever wrote to Santa.”
“Why not? Santa didn’t need them anymore and each year just gives them to Mom and Dad for keepsakes.”
“The only fingerprints on our presents are Mom’s or Dad’s.”
“Mom and Dad always get up early on Christmas. They could’ve rearranged them.”
“Last week, I found all our presents hidden in a corner in the attic.” Jerry pawed through some of the torn wrapping paper. “I wrote my initials on the bottom of each package. And look—here they are. That proves that Santa didn’t bring them here last night.”
“I asked Mom, and she said that Santa is real. Anyway, how do I know you didn’t write your initials on the wrapping paper this morning?”
Like little Kyle, if you’re determined to believe something, you can rationalize away any unwelcome evidence. (By rationalize, I mean taking an idea as fact and then selecting or interpreting all relevant evidence to make it support that idea.)
It’s tempting to list the many ways Christians rationalize. They rationalize away contradictions in the Bible, the oddity of a hidden God, or why so much bad happens to the people God loves. They can find a dozen reasons why a particular prayer wasn’t answered, even though the Bible promises, “Ask and ye shall receive.” But the Christian says that he’s simply defending the truth: “I’m not rationalizing; I’m right.”
In five minutes we can see flaws in others that we don’t see in ourselves in a lifetime. Perhaps this episode with Jerry and Kyle will encourage us to see our own rationalizations.
I recently came across the Galileo Was Wrong; The Church Was Right blog. That’s right, it argues for geocentrism, an earth-centered universe. With a little work, even the nuttiest theory can be given a scholarly sheen, so imagine what a few thousand years of scholarly work can do to a religion. Any Christian can point to centuries of scholarship to give a patina of credibility to their position (but, of course, so can Muslims, Hindus, and those in many other religions).
I can’t prove Santa doesn’t exist. Nor can I disprove the existence of leprechauns, Russell’s Flying Teapot, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or God. The thoughtful person goes where the evidence points rather than accepting only the evidence that supports his preconception.
And Jesus is Santa Claus for adults.
Photo credit: Robot Nine
Plantinga’s Nutty Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism
What better way to respond to atheists but to turn one of their own tools against them? That’s the approach philosopher Alvin Plantinga tries to use with his Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism (EAAN). It’s not a new idea, and both C.S. Lewis and Charles Darwin anticipated it. In brief, the question is: how can a human mind that’s the result of the clumsy process of evolution be trusted?
About “Darwin’s doubt,” Plantinga argues that only Christians can have confidence that their interpretation of the world is correct. Naturalists can’t prove that minds are reliable until they’ve proven that the source of this claim (the mind!) is worth listening to.
Here’s where Plantinga claims to have turned the tables:
The high priests of evolutionary naturalism loudly proclaim that Christian and even theistic belief is bankrupt and foolish. The fact, however, is that the shoe is on the other foot. It is evolutionary naturalism, not Christian belief, that can’t rationally be accepted.
He says that if evolution is true, human beliefs have been selected for survival value, not truth, so why trust them? And yet our beliefs are reliable, suggesting to Plantinga that something besides evolution created them.
Before we get into the specifics of Plantinga’s argument, let’s first establish a baseline. Plantinga and naturalists agree that humans’ needs and desires are pretty logically matched:
This is straightforward. You go toward cuddly things, you run from scary things, you get to clean air if you can’t breathe, and so on. This is the world we all know and understand. But Plantinga imagines the naturalist’s world in which these links are jumbled. He imagines a hominid Paul who has some problematic beliefs about predators:
Perhaps [Paul] thinks the tiger is a large, friendly, cuddly pussycat and wants to pet it; but he also believes that the best way to pet it is to run away from it.
So Paul’s instincts toward tigers keep him alive, but only by luck. But unreasonable beliefs don’t stop with tigers. Plantinga imagines the naturalist’s view of the world with beliefs having no connection with reality. That is, he imagines something like this:
Paul’s response to the tiger was just a roll of the dice, and he got lucky. But Plantinga supposes that all of Paul’s beliefs are arbitrary, not just those about tigers. Some actions in this chart are benign, but some are dangerous. When Paul sees something scary, his reaction is to walk toward it. When he’s drowning, he’ll try to sleep. When he’s hungry, he’ll satisfy that need with fresh air, and so on. With his basic desires paired with ineffective methods, this guy is clearly too dumb to live.
This is where natural selection comes in. Natural selection is unforgiving, and actions that don’t lead to survival are discarded. Evolution easily explains why Plantinga’s Paul could not exist.
An article at Skeptic.com neatly skewers Plantinga’s argument with a familiar example.
If a professional baseball player [incorrectly perceived reality,] that is, if his perception of the movement and location of a baseball was something other than what it actually is, then he would not be able to consistently hit ninety-five mile per hour fastballs.
As an aside, let me admit that I have a hard time maintaining respect for those at the leading edge of philosophy. Do they do work that’s relevant and pushes the frontier of human knowledge? I’d like to think so, but when this is the kind of argument they give, it’s hard to keep the faith.
My advice to philosophers: when you get the urge to play scientist, better lie down until the feeling goes away.
Photo credit: Wikimedia
Related links:
- “EAAN—a sad footnote to an illustrious career,” Shamelessly Atheist blog, 8/22/09.
- “Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism,” Iron Chariots Wiki.
- PZ Myers, “Alvin Plantinga Gives Philosophy a Bad Name,” Pharyngula blog, 5/29/09.
- Michael Dahlen, “What’s So Great About Kant? A Critique of Dinesh D’Souza’s Attack on Reason,” eSkeptic, 8/17/11.
- Greg Kokul, “The Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism,” Stand to Reason (video, 3:59), 8/15/11.
- “Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism,” Wikipedia.