How likely was the empty tomb? A critique of “12 reasons to accept the empty tomb as a historical fact.”

What do you do if you don’t have any good arguments? Just pile on poor ones and call it a “cumulative case.” Today we’ll critique “12 reasons to accept the empty tomb as a historical fact” by Brian Chilton. I liken this cumulative case to 12 sieves. Let’s see if they hold water.

1. Christianity’s enemies could’ve checked to see if the tomb still had the body

Jesus was crucified in Jerusalem, the very place 1. where the gospel message was first preached. The last place you’d 2. invent a story would be where the event supposedly occurred. A doubter could have easily 3. checked the tomb. [The Christian argument will be in italics.]

There’s a lot of confusion in this one.

1. Historians have no data to back up a claim of what was preached where. Rather, they can offer a date at which time a particular book was written and where. And the first gospel, Mark, was almost certainly not written in Jerusalem (most likely Rome).

2. I don’t say that the gospel story was deliberately invented. I say it was legend that developed through decades of oral history.

3. The idea that opponents would’ve just presented the body of Jesus to shut down the early Christian movement confuses two things. The apostles of Jesus and the leaders in Jerusalem just after the crucifixion in 30 CE is one thing. The story in the gospel of Mark (the first gospel), written in 70 CE, is the other. When we read Mark, we’re (at best) reading about events that happened forty years earlier. The leaders, the dead body, the tomb—these were all elements in a story that wasn’t at all constrained by reality. It didn’t suit the story for anyone to discover Jesus’s body on Easter Sunday, so that didn’t happen.

(The dates and time spans I use come from the consensus of relevant scholars. They’re just best guesses using mediocre evidence.)

2. Hallucination hypothesis

“If Jesus’s disciples had only hallucinated, Jesus’s body would have still been in the tomb. Because Jesus’s body was never retrieved and Christianity continued, then one must assume that the tomb of Jesus was empty. Hallucinations cannot account for an empty tomb.”

Who says the disciples hallucinated Jesus? Not me.

3. The resurrection is a very early claim

The message that Jesus had resurrected was 1. written soon after the event. The 2. creed of 1 Corinthians 15:3–7 dates to just a couple of years after Jesus’s death, burial, and resurrection. 3. Residents of Jerusalem could have easily checked to see if the tomb was empty.

This passage in 1 Corinthians gives the basics of the resurrection, “Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, [was buried, and] was raised on the third day,” and lists the post-resurrection appearances. The author is claiming here that this passage didn’t appear twenty years after the crucifixion (when Paul wrote that book) but within a few months or years because it was an independent creed that Paul later copied into this epistle.

1. So what if the creed were early? Suppose a similar supernatural claim were written about someone else’s religion yesterday. Would “But look—it’s just a day old!” make it believable?

2. Yes, it does sound a bit like a creed. But a creed isn’t evidence. It isn’t intended to be evidence. It’s nothing more than a list of beliefs; it gives no reasons why anyone should believe them.

3. Again, the players in the story written in 70 CE could do or not do anything they wanted, unconcerned about what happened forty years earlier.

And why think that a simple factual correction—“No, you’re mistaken; I have it on good authority that the tomb wasn’t empty”—would cause a religious community to abandon their beliefs? When does that ever happen? A religious community’s faith isn’t built on facts.

Consider a few examples. Prior to the Great Disappointment of 1844, the Millerite community got rid of their possessions to make themselves right with God because their leader had calculated that the end would come on October 22 of that year. When October 23 dawned like any other day, do you think they all had a good laugh at their naivete and then returned to their prior lives? Some did leave the group, but many reinterpreted the facts to create a reality in which they weren’t wrong.

Or imagine the early Mormons spreading the word about Joseph Smith using magic stones to translate mysterious writing on golden plates. Do you think their faith would’ve been shaken if they’d learned that Smith had been tried in court for using the same seer-stone trick to scam neighbors with promises of treasure?

We’ve seen enough examples of how religions work to know that it’s not built exclusively on evidence.

See also: 13 reasons to reject the Christian naysayer hypothesis

4. The tomb and burial weren’t secret

Joseph of Arimathea was a member of the Sanhedrin (a tribunal of elders) and was well known in first-century Israel. Everyone would have known where his tomb was located and therefore where Jesus’s body had been placed.

According to the story, we know certain facts about Joseph of Arimathea, but we only get this from the gospels. The burden is on you to show that this is reliable history. There are plenty of legends about him after the time of the gospels, none of which are reliable. Historians aren’t even certain where Arimathea was.

And was the tomb known to everyone? Only Matthew says that it was Joseph’s tomb. The other gospels suggest that it was just a convenient tomb. John and Matthew say that it was new, which is more reason to doubt that it was a well-known landmark. Mark and Luke suggest that the women who attended the crucifixion knew where the body was laid only because they stayed to watch. In other words, the rest of the crowd wouldn’t have known.

See also Responding to the minimal facts argument for the resurrection

Continue to part 2.

Final Thoughts from the Soft Theist

This is a guest post from Miklos Jako, the author of the video that started this exploration into spiritual-but-not-religious thinking. For the introductory post, go here.

Miklos endured the skeptical gauntlet with patient comments, and for that he deserves the last word in this conversation.


I’ve appreciated this opportunity to exchange ideas with atheists from the perspective of a “Soft Theist.” Host Bob Seidensticker has described Soft Theism as “Christianity without the baggage.” However, to be clear, it is not liberal Christianity. I actually reject Jesus for many reasons. I do not think he was a transcendently wise man but rather a religious extremist who constantly overstated for the sake of impact, at the expense of truth.

I describe soft theism as a belief in the probability of a general God not tied to any particular religion. A belief in some great intelligence behind the universe. A more credible God than the Christian one. A non-intervening God. No answered prayers. No miracles, other than the miracle of life itself. No dogma, other than the need to be a good person.

The closest approximation to it in real life would probably be Unitarianism: Be a good person and then believe whatever makes sense to you, including atheism. Soft Theism is not a truth claim, but a subjective assessment on the probability of a God, where one does not decide to believe, or not believe, but settles on a percent probability, whether it’s 10%, 40%, 60%, or 90%, and lives with that. The word “soft” in soft theism is there for a reason.

Here is my assessment of the discussion we had:

The discussion confirmed my conviction that one’s position depends very much on one’s starting point, on one’s worldview to begin with. If you start with a scientific worldview, almost invariably you will conclude there is no God, because you want evidence. If you start with a more spiritual/emotional worldview, you will conclude there may well be a God, because lack of tangible evidence is not a defeater for you.

The discussion also confirmed my suspicion that theists and atheists have innately incompatible ways of thinking, and that coming to some synthesis is almost impossible. For example, to a theist, the universe is evidence for God, obviously. But to an atheist, the universe is just the universe, obviously.

I regard the beauty of a tree as “soft evidence” for God; the atheist regards such soft evidence as no evidence, it’s just magical thinking. I was asked what would be the difference between “magical thinking” and “soft evidence”? I responded that magical thinking would be, “If I pray hard enough, God will save my child from this illness.” Whereas “soft evidence” is seeing a beautiful tree, or experiencing a wonderful relationship, and thinking there might well be something more than the ordinariness of life, and scientific explanations.

I find the mystery of why things should work, to be a reason for positing a God. The atheist regards figuring out how things work is enough. Once you’ve got A, B, C, and D understood, you don’t need God to make it work. Whereas, I think it’s more plausible that God makes everything work, through the laws of nature he created.

Science

I think some things may never be understood by science, like why things grow, why the heart keeps beating for a lifetime, why bodies heal. Why life, intelligence, consciousness should emerge. I suspect that consciousness may never be adequately understood. Awareness of the material world, is of a different nature than that world. The atheist thinks that whether science eventually figures it all out or not, we have chemistry, biology, and physics for explanations, no need for a God.

Soft theism accepts whatever valid science says. But it does not view science as ultimately explanatory, or capable of giving answers to spiritual/emotional issues. As one person noted, if a grand Unified Theory of Everything is ever formulated, it won’t help him decide about his love life. Agreed. That’s my perspective, that a big part of life exists outside of science.

I made the claim the science has a built-in defeater against God because it is forbidden to invoke God as an explanation for any phenomenon, and is allowed only to reach the verdict of “not demonstrated.” Atheists disagreed, but we finally got on the same page in agreeing that there is not a hard and fast rule; it’s just that it’s the implicit philosophy of working scientists, because studies have never concluded yet that God is an explanation.

Going in Circles

Atheists repeatedly insisted that “We don’t know” is the proper answer, and that I should admit I don’t know. My response: Why are you saying that?! I have repeatedly said, “I don’t know.” In fact, I can give you some stats. I did a quick word search, and in the first 12 installments here I have been advised to admit I don’t know at least five or six times, and I have responded that “I don’t know” at least eight or nine times. The word “soft” in soft theism embodies the very concept of “I don’t know”!

The circularity here reminds me of a scene in Mel Brooks’s Blazing Saddles movie. The governor’s assistant says, “OK, the meeting is adjourned. Oh, I’m sorry Governor, you’re supposed to say that.” “Say what?” “The meeting is adjourned.” “It is!?” “No, you’re supposed to say that.” “Say what?” “The meeting is adjourned.” “It is?” “No, you’re supposed to say that.” “Say what?” “The meeting is….”

Here’s my atheist blog version of that: “The honest response on the God question, is ‘We don’t know.’” “I don’t know, I’m just speculating.” “You can’t just speculate; you have to give some evidence.” “I don’t have any hard evidence.” “Then you’re just speculating; you don’t know.” “I don’t know. I’m just speculating.” “You have to give some evidence.” “I don’t have any hard evidence. I’m just speculating.” “Then you don’t know. You’re just speculating….”

Telling Me Stuff I Already Know

Atheists kept telling me what I already know and already agree with, yet somehow regarded this is an argument against my position. One gave an eloquent description of the progress of science, almost as though I were not aware of it. I agree that science has a magnificent history. I know that. I agree with that. Or tells me that the further reaches of science (the quantum world, cosmology) do not make common sense to us living here in middle earth. I know that. I agree with that.

Another wrote that God’s hiddenness is “not an indictment of science or nonbelievers, it’s an indictment of God’s choice to remain hidden.” I responded, “You’re informing me of something I already know and agree with. I’m not indicting science or nonbelievers! And yes, God’s hiddenness is an indictment of God! He should have given us more evidence of his existence. (Bertrand Russell)”

Attitudes / Differences

Many atheists viewed me as making truth claims, and not just offering an opinion. I think one reason for this is that in discussing anything, if I constantly have to qualify my remarks with “I think,” “in my opinion,” or “it seems to me,” that gums up the writing. So, it seemed more a truth claim than it actually was. Plus, atheists are used to the Christian attitude of “We have the Truth,” and so assumed more of an attitude than was actually there on my part.

We disagreed on the standards of evidence for philosophy versus science. I felt that the standards for philosophy are much lower and do not require the same degree of hard evidence.

Many atheists viewed my approach as classic “God of the Gaps” thinking. But I maintained that I do not appeal to God for any of millions of scientific issues, except for where I think science will never reach an answer, such as origins of life, and consciousness.

Atheists think I am interpreting mundane things as spiritual realities. Yes, I am. I regard life, as miraculous. A life-force is not mundane to me. It is a powerful, incomprehensible reality to me, that life should exist.

We did agree that morality is properly a practical issue rather than an intellectual one. And we agreed that the problem of evil is a very strong argument against God.

I found the atheists on this blog very intelligent and educated. But also prone to contempt. I was described as “nasty” and “sneering.” I do not know what they are talking about. On the contrary, they were the ones who used the words “disingenuous,” “idiot,” “stupid,” “daft,” “ignoramus.” Not me. I did express my conviction that atheists are blinkered by science, and they found that, per se, insulting. I thought that many of the commenters spoke with contempt and ridicule as a matter of course. And I am baffled as to why they think this helps their cause. Bob Seidensticker, the host, incidentally, was appropriate. He strongly disagreed with me but did not find it necessary to add gratuitous insults.

Conclusion

I certainly did not expect to change any atheist’s mind here. As I noted at the start, I expected them to say, “He’s just making all this stuff up.” But I hoped they would also conclude, “Well, at least his version of God is not as harmful as traditional ones.”

Atheists and I do have a common cause in opposing Christianity. I hope people visit my website. http://www.confrontingbelievers.com/ I have videos of my informal debates with a wide variety of Christians and ex-Christians.

Thank you to Bob for hosting this exercise and for appreciating the value of Soft Theism, not as a valid belief system, but as a better, less harmful one than Christianity. A lot of people see reasons for leaving Christianity, but do not feel comfortable going all the way to atheism. Soft Theism is a good middle ground.

God does not make good sense to me, but makes better sense than no God. I agree with the opinion that believing in God is absurd, but not believing in God is even more absurd.

Maybe theists have over-active imaginations. Maybe atheists have under-active imaginations.

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Image from Aamir Suhail (free-use license)

Soft Theism: Final Thoughts

What a marathon! Over the last couple of months we’ve spent 21 posts with close to 30,000 words dissecting a long video about soft theism. I think it’s been worth it, and the nearly 4000 comments from readers suggest that it’s been engaging for them as well. I thank all readers for their time and the commenters for their participation. (Read part 1 here.)

I also want to thank Miklos Jako, the video’s author, for enduring the spotlight. If he wanted a higher profile and a frank critique of his ideas, he got it. I’ve now had the last word over twenty times, and he has accepted my invitation to a last word of his own with a guest post giving his evaluation.

What is soft theism? And how is it better than Christianity?

Soft theism is theism in that it imagines a god that cares about and engages with our world. It’s unlike deism, which imagines a god who created our world but doesn’t engage with it. And it’s unlike Christianity in that it’s not burdened with the clearly mythological Yahweh with his violent Bronze Age morality.

I described it this way in the first post: “Take Christianity and pare away the Bible, a couple of dozen ecumenical councils, church tradition, a long history of political meddling, and fear of science, and what’s left? Jako calls this Soft Theism.” Imagine Christianity without the unpleasant baggage.

I was drawn to this topic because it’s a fresh approach to religion. It’s also timely. The rise of the Nones—those who don’t identify with any religious denomination—is one of the biggest news stories within American religion from the last twenty years, but only a minority of these Nones are atheists. Most have spiritual beliefs, just not the conventional ones. This series has been our opportunity to take a deep dive into one representative worldview.

I’ve pulled from the posts in this series some of the key ideas. I’m sure I’ve missed some from Jako and others in the comment discussions. Feel free to add anything important in the comments to this post.

Science can’t answer the ultimate questions

Jako argues that we have a gap that science will never fill. He accepts all the marvelous things science has taught us about reality (refreshingly, that includes evolution) but points to the meta question: what explains science? Does its remarkable record not need an explanation? And suppose science explained everything in the universe. That still leaves unanswered, what explains the universe itself?

The infinite-regress problem

And even if science takes it a step further back—say, by explaining our universe as a tiny part of a vast multiverse—where does it end? Whatever scientific explanation you come up with, no matter how elegant or mind-blowing, is susceptible to the demand, well, what explains that? It’s the child’s dreaded “Why?” given in response to science’s every answer. Jako resolves this with God to eventually terminate this series of questions. The buck has to stop somewhere, right?

Maybe not. Common sense is not especially useful at the edge of understanding. If a smart and determined mind could answer these questions from first principles, Aristotle would’ve done so 2300 years ago. Discoveries at the frontier of science offend our common sense, but evidence backs up the science, not the common sense. Our common sense was tuned for a middle world. It’s untrustworthy in the world of the very small (quantum physics) or the very large (cosmology).

Jako is careful to remind us that he’s neither a scientist nor a science denier, just someone interested in reality’s ultimate questions. He’ll say, “It seems to me, . . .” being careful to not claim any evidence pointing to his conclusions and wondering if science’s winning streak will end somewhere.

But there’s no “therefore” there. If Jako wants to remind us of science’s unanswered questions and offer supernatural answers, that’s fine, but all he has is a lack of answers, not positive evidence.

And he can’t resolve the regress problem when his own “God did it” solution just raises more questions. Who is this “God”? What are his properties, and how do you know? Has he been around forever, and, if so, why did he decide to create our universe 13.8 billion years ago? And so on. These are questions only resolvable by (dare I say it?) evidence.

What’s the rush? If we have a question and don’t know the answer, let’s be honest and say so. “God did it” just replaces scientific questions with theological ones.

Science: the only game in town?

Jako insists that atheists lean too much on science. He doesn’t have evidence for his position, but that’s okay, he says, because he makes no scientific claims. Instead, he lives in the domain of philosophy.

But you can’t have it both ways—you either make a convincing case by providing evidence, or you ignore the demand for evidence with the justification that you aren’t making a scientific claim. This Philosophy can be a refuge for those who have no evidence but at what cost? Evidence is important if you want to make a convincing case.

If he has a reliable new route to the truth that doesn’t rely on evidence, he must demonstrate this approach by actually uncovering something new so that we can all see its value. But if he’s not claiming anything new and is only playing the jester, asking the tough questions that the rest of us may be ignoring, then “Philosophy” is just an important-sounding label to hide the fact that all he has are questions, not evidence. That doesn’t make his position worthless, just commonplace.

The value of naturalism

We’re to believe that science, the discipline that has gotten us this far, is spent. We must now rely on spirituality and philosophy, the disciplines which to this point have answered no puzzles at the frontier of science. In fact, they’ve taught us nothing at all about reality. This makes even less sense when we remember that spirituality and philosophy didn’t even come up with the questions. But we’re to turn to them for the answers?

If we don’t know, I suggest we say that instead of “God did it.” The God hypothesis is a solution looking for a problem.

The lack of value in philosophy

A naval commander will tell us that a ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are for. The same bold attitude applies to ideas. The extent to which you are able to stay safe, hidden behind Philosophy’s skirt, is the extent to which your ideas are irrelevant. Bring them out in the open so they can be criticized and tested (yes, with evidence).

You tell us that you don’t need to—or intend to—provide evidence for your statements. Okay, but then what good are they? “You haven’t proven me wrong” is hardly sufficient grounding for a worldview. And if all you have are provocative ideas, that doesn’t take us very far.

Homeopathic religion

The homeopathic parallel illustrates the limitations of Soft Theism. A homeopathic “medicine” starts with a poison and gradually dilutes it down to nothing, but that’s as far as it can go. It no longer has a bad component (poison), but that does nothing to give it a good component (actual medicine with proven therapeutic value).

Soft theism is homeopathic religion. The bad stuff from a familiar religion like Christianity with its Bronze Age morality, barbaric god, and Bible verses that support slavery, genocide, and more has been reduced to zero. Less bad stuff is a great improvement, but there’s no actual good there—no wisdom from an omniscient god, no new science or technology to vault us to a more equitable society, and so on. It compares well against Christianity, but it’s still manmade.

Christianity 2.0

But that may be soft theism’s superpower. As a supernatural worldview, I find it no more convincing than Christianity or any other theistic worldview, but it’s much less dangerous. There are no zealots eager for the End Times or science deniers who reject evolution or climate science as there are in Christianity.

We’ve made little progress in showing Jako that his soft theism is no better grounded than Christianity, but there may be bigger fish to fry. While he probably hasn’t made any atheist converts, he’s also interested in sharing his ideas with Christians. Imagine if soft theism made inroads among those who now embrace the most toxic forms of Christianity. If people need answers or comfort, a homeopathic religion provides a much safer version.

I wish him Godspeed there.

Conclusion: Final Thoughts from the Soft Theist

In another time and place
he would have been called prophet.
— epitaph on comedian Sam Kinison’s grave

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Image from Valentin Salja (free-use license)
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Soft Theism: Suffering and Heaven

We’re responding to an imaginary dialogue that explores Soft Theism, which is basically Christianity without the unpleasant baggage. Can jettisoning Christianity’s crazy bits make it acceptable? Read part 1 here.

This is post 21 in this series, the final critique of the soft theism dialogue. We wrap up with suffering, heaven, and the clash of the toughest arguments from soft theism and from atheism.

The role of suffering in this life

Soft Theist: Absolutely, agreed, I can see some suffering as necessary, to develop character, but not the excess of suffering that some people go through.

Cross Examined Blog: So where does that leave us? God isn’t particularly benevolent but does care about us, sort of. He’s omnipotent and omniscient, he’s set up some sort of afterlife where justice is handed out, and he wants us to behave well. And we’re back to invented properties on a Dungeons & Dragons character sheet!

As for developing character in humans, this is unnecessary. Show me an outcome reachable through life’s ordeals, and I’ll show you an outcome God can achieve through magic (explored in more detail here).

Atheist: I’ve heard Christians say, “Suffering teaches us to love one another.” Fine, but, again, the excess is not justified.

Right—from a naturalistic standpoint, we often have little choice about adversity, but we can find the silver lining. (You seem to be waffling about whether we should expect perfect actions of any sort from God.)

Yeah. Yeah. I talked to William Lane Craig, and he made the defense that we are cognitively limited, so we cannot possibly know the greater good that the immediate suffering might eventually bring about. That we can’t know that God does not have a morally sufficient reason for apparent evil. That maybe the purpose of an innocent child’s death might not emerge for hundreds of years.

I realize this is Craig’s point and not yours, but let’s explore this claim. So there might be a particular good centuries in our future that is only achievable if a child dies today? To quote Wayne from the movie Wayne’s World, “Yeah—and monkeys might fly out of my butt.” (I apologize for that powerful philosophical broadside, but some ideas so stupid that they need the big guns.)

There is no reason to believe (1) that a child dying today will bring about a net good that’s only apparent centuries in the future and (2) God has no other way to accomplish this. Point 2 is impossible, since God can achieve that future goal through magic. And the claim “But this might be true” is a terrible reason to believe anything. I might be a cleverly disguised alien to whom you must give your life savings or I’ll destroy the world, but that’s not the way to bet.

But, I think Craig is just grasping at straws. Sure, there’s instances where great evil brings about a greater good. But, do you really think children dying has a good overall effect??!! It’s clearly excessive evil, not instructive evil.

. . . Hah. I’m reminded of a David Letterman joke. He says the 1906 San Francisco earthquake caused massive destruction for the city, but . . . on the positive side . . . bowling scores were never higher.

(Because all the bowling pins fell, I’m guessing.)

Ha ha. . . .

Soft Theism’s toughest problem vs. atheism’s toughest problem

So, isn’t the Problem of Evil a knockdown argument against God!?

Yes . . . I think it is . . . But . . . I think the infinite regress argument is a knockdown argument FOR God. And I find that argument a stronger one, because I see no possible rebuttal to it, by my lights anyway. Whereas, for the Problem of Evil argument there is a possible answer, not a good answer, but a possible answer.

But your position is full of regress problems. The atheist proposes the multiverse as an explanation for our universe, and you ask where the multiverse came from and propose God as the better explanation. But this just brings up more questions: where God came from, what his properties are, and so on. You complain about an answer that only kicks the can down the road, but how are you immune from the same criticism?

The atheist proposes physical causes to explain how you raised your arm, and you wonder what started that chain of causes. Your suggestion that some supernatural element of free will is at the beginning again raises questions about where that came from.

Where does human intelligence come from? Your answer: from a higher intelligence. Where does beauty in our world come from? Your answer: from a greater beauty. These are more regressions.

God and heaven

[And that possible answer to the Problem of Evil] is?

That . . . IF there is an afterlife of ultimate justice and happiness, then that outweighs the evil we experience in this life. Mathematically, any number, no matter how large, over infinity, makes that fraction . . . approach . . . zero. Likewise, any suffering, no matter how great, compared to an infinity of happiness in an afterlife, amounts to nothing.

You’ve said that the Problem of Evil is the atheist’s most powerful rebuttal, and you’ve responded by suggesting that God is just a dick. Unlike Christians, soft theism has the flexibility to drop the claim of God’s omnibenevolence, and that’s a smart move.

You’re saying here that however unjust or cruel life is on earth, when you average it out with an (unevidenced) perpetual heaven, life’s cruelty becomes insignificant. That’s true, but God still was immoral in letting us suffer on earth when any goal he had for us could’ve been reached without suffering. Here again, “God is a dick” gets you out of that jam. (Christians aren’t so lucky, because they can’t jettison God’s omnibenevolence. Their use of this averaging-of-pain argument is what I’ve labeled Stupid Argument Christians Should Avoid #25a.)

But you’re not off the hook yet. By your thinking, the same guy is in charge when we’re enduring a shitty life on earth and when luxuriating in bliss in heaven. Why would God suddenly be motivated to create a beautiful heaven for us when you’ve admitted that he doesn’t care enough to do that for us on earth?

Another problem is that you’ve not clearly defined the afterlife. Do I even want it? You put ultimate justice at the top of your list for heaven’s features, but that’s not what I’d put. Maybe the Norse or Spartans would put honor at the top. The 72-virgins crowd seems to want hedonism at the top. So, sure, put justice at the top of the list for your heaven, but remember that you’ve given no more evidence for your heaven than the Pastafarians have for their heaven with its beer volcano, stripper factory, and fluffy ponies.

Well, that’s just speculation.

Yeah, but it IS a logical theoretical answer to the Problem of Evil. Whereas, in my mind, there is NO theoretical answer to the infinite regress problem . . . other than . . . God. So that’s the bottom line for me—the infinite regress argument FOR god, outweighs the Problem of Evil argument AGAINST GOD.

Signing off

Well . . . we see things differently. I found this conversation frustrating, but . . . also fascinating. I’m glad we engaged.

Yeah, me too. Thanks for your thoughts.

I’ll add my thanks to Miklos Jako for allowing us to put his ideas about soft atheism through the atheist gauntlet and the commenters who debated the issue by contributing 3000 comments.

Next: My concluding remarks

Nature never deceives us;
it is always we who deceive ourselves.
— Jean Jacque Rousseau.

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Image from William Murphy (license CC BY 2.0)
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Soft Theism: the Strongest Argument for the Atheist is the Problem of Evil

We’re responding to an imaginary dialogue that explores Soft Theism, which is basically Christianity without the unpleasant baggage. Can jettisoning Christianity’s crazy bits make it acceptable? Read part 1 here.

This is post 20 in this series. Soft theism’s toughest problem is the Problem of Evil, why God allows so much evil in our world.

The Problem of Evil

Atheist: If God is such a great intelligence, why did He create such an inefficient and cruel world?

Soft Theist: Yeah, it’s not the way we would have made the world. Uh . . . a possible answer is that He intended an imperfect, seriously challenging world, as the best way for us to develop character.

Cross Examined Blog: Sure, that’s possible. The problem is that anything is possible with an omni-everything god. Not being constrained is good in that it allows your imagination free rein, but it’s bad if you want any credibility for your claims. This is what happens when you disconnect yourself from reality and build on an unfalsifiable hypothesis. Better: follow the evidence where it leads.

But that would not explain the . . . EXCESS of evil, beyond what is necessary for that! You don’t need that much suffering to develop character. You don’t need kids dying to strengthen their parents’ character! And, an animal kingdom where animals have to kill and eat their fellow creatures? That is a fundamentally cruel system!

Yeah, I know. I know. I think the Problem of Evil is the strongest argument against God.

There are lots of candidates for the strongest argument (the Problem of Divine Hiddenness is my favorite), but I agree that the Problem of Evil is a big one.

Then what is this god good for?!

Seems to me this God does not merit worship. Yet you worship this God!

Aha, yes, but not in the way Christians do. Christians have this completely insane idea of God being oh so wonderful. And I say, what fantasy world are you living in!? There are all kinds of natural disasters and diseases. God is not omnibenevolent; He’s a very mixed entity.

I agree with Dan Barker that by any normal standard of morality, we humans are better than God. If WE had the power, we certainly would have stopped the Holocaust. Which of us would ever dream of destroying someone’s home with a hurricane, or giving a child a fatal disease? God’s sins against us, are far greater than ours against Him.

That reminds me of Stephen Fry’s comment in 2015 when asked what he would say if he met God at the gates of heaven.

I’d say, bone cancer in children? What’s that about?

How dare you? How dare you create a world to which there is such misery that is not our fault. It’s not right, it’s utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain.

Soft theism’s version of worship

So, in what way, then, do you worship God?

OK. Not by liking him, or praising Him, or loving Him in any traditional sense, but . . . by behaving well. I think that is the only thing He really wants of us, to behave well. If I do that, I am properly loving him. I don’t have to like Him.

“Behave well” sounds like a nice guiding principle, though no more objectively fundamental than the advice from Bill and Ted at the end of their adventure: “Be excellent to each other!” Why muddy the conversation by bringing in God?

You figured out the importance of this on your own. There’s no evidence that God put this notion into your mind. If you want to point out precedents, celebrate the people who played important positive roles in your life: family, friends, teachers, coaches, authors, and others. And if you need something ephemeral for what protects us from harm, look to evolution rather than God—that’s why we’re so well adapted to this world.

When I see a dead squirrel by the roadside, I say, “See, God, that’s YOUR fault. YOU made the world this way. It’s not the squirrel’s fault, it’s not the driver’s fault, it’s YOUR fault. You, are the author of this evil, and many other far, far worse ones. You, are . . . a bastard. . . . And I have no qualms expressing that, because—if He exists—He knows it’s true.

I think the traditional ways of worshipping God—praying, praising, beseeching, is NOT worshipping. To me, that’s just . . . groveling.

Agreed. The form of worship God likes is about the same as what Donald Trump likes (more here).

How good is God?

So, you don’t regard your alleged God as omnibenevolent?

We find the idea of a powerful but imperfect being in the Demiurge (“Craftsman”) in Gnosticism. And more familiar examples are the pantheons of Greece, Rome, and other civilizations.

No, clearly He’s not. I see God as omnipotent, and omniscient, but OBVIOUSLY not omnibenevolent. I see Him as only . . . ULTIMATELY benevolent.

I don’t know what “ULTIMATELY benevolent” means. Perhaps it means that God’s definition of benevolence will be what matters in the end?

I’ve heard Christians claim that human happiness is not the goal of life, but rather, knowing God is. And suffering draws you to God. But, that’s totally irrational to me, that a loving God would torture His creatures for the mere satisfaction of compelling them to believe in Him. If you love someone, you don’t make them suffer excessively.

I agree, but humans are motivated in strange ways. Some say that suffering draws you to God. Corrie ten Boom is a famous example. She was a Dutch Christian sent to a German concentration camp for helping Jews, and her experience strengthened her faith.

The flip side of that coin is the brief but eloquent proof that God doesn’t exist that I’ve heard is popular among many Jews: there was a Holocaust, so therefore there’s no God. Stated another way, according to a message into a concentration camp wall, “If there is a God, he will have to beg my forgiveness” (h/t commenter Michael Neville).

Next time: a critique of the final bit of the soft theism dialogue

I was pretty impressed that Jesus fed the masses
from only five loaves and two fishes
until I went to Communion
and saw what He considers a serving size.
— seen on the internet

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Image from Avery Cocozziello (free-use license)
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Soft Theism: What Good Is God if He Doesn’t Intervene?

We’re responding to an imaginary dialogue that explores Soft Theism, which is basically Christianity without the unpleasant baggage. Can jettisoning Christianity’s crazy bits make it acceptable? Read part 1 here.

This is post 19 in this series. What good is the soft theist’s God hypothesis, and is beauty a clue to God?

God provides a better explanation

But if your almost-Deistic God is so non-intervening, what good is He? I’m left wondering: why believe at all?

Good question. In practical terms, maybe He’s not much good. But, intellectually, God gives me a better ultimate explanation for the universe, than . . . random chance.

So he’s a mental placeholder and doesn’t have to exist. He’s not the inevitable conclusion pointed to by evidence, preferably from different avenues, as science does it. This is just a way to replace “I don’t know” with “God.” By your own admission he doesn’t make sense, so therefore he makes sense?

Maybe you have an itch that I just don’t have, but this does nothing for me. If we don’t know, I’d prefer to say that.

And . . . there is also a big psychological or emotional aspect to it . . . I read that Elvis Presley once said—and I think this is actually quite profound—he said that . . . to be happy, a person needs three things—someone to love . . . something to do . . . and . . . something . . . to look forward to.

The God worldview is a happier one

I think, given that we can’t prove God or disprove God, we might as well take the happier path and live with the idea that God probably does exist, and . . . look forward to some ultimate resolution to life . . . other than . . . dust. . . .

“The happier path”? Life seen honestly sucks so that you need help getting through, and this theology is a bullet to bite on when things are toughest? This probably isn’t what you think, but then I’m not sure what you’re saying.

Christians also claim that their worldview is more pleasing, as if to say, “Well, there’s not much reason to think that it’s true, but see how happy it makes me!” but this approach has consequences. For example, you posit an afterlife. I don’t want to rearrange my life to adapt to this fact unless I have reason to believe it’s actually a fact. Given the choice between a happy worldview and an accurate worldview, I’ll take the accurate one. (I’ve written about this here and here.)

Personally, I intuitively embrace the idea that . . . everything we do counts, rather than ultimately . . . doesn’t count. . . .

“Intuitively” doesn’t sound like sufficient grounding for a supernatural worldview

Another label for Soft Theism might be . . . “Warm Deism,” . . . warm deism, where a Deity IS involved, DOES care, but, not in any intervening or verifiable way.

Evidence for God (or for Douglas Adams’ puddle?)

Do you have any evidence that God cares about us?

Yeah . . . not hard evidence, but, I see certain aspects of reality, as soft evidence of God’s care for us:

For one, our species is largely thriving on the planet.

This reminds me of Douglas Adams’ puddle, which marveled at how well its hole fit it. It didn’t realize that the adaptation was the other way around.

For another, our bodies usually have the capacity to heal.

Puddle again.

For another, life is intelligible, navigable, rather than . . . a total crapshoot.

Maybe we should worship evolution, which, clumsily, adapted us to our world.

And, there are many joyful experiences in life.

And many sucky ones. The argument for an evil god is just as good as for a good god (though I realize that you don’t claim God is particularly good). Do we really need this God hypothesis? Life shaped by evolution explains things adequately.

I think these aspects of reality are all some evidence, that God cares about us. Granted, one can look at the negative side of each of these factors as evidence of God not caring—situations where people do not thrive, do not heal, are crushed by their circumstances, or have horrible experiences.

I personally went through cancer treatments for a year and a half. That was horrendous. I prefer to think that was just bad luck, and not an act of God.

Yeah, I don’t think God micro-manages. I think good luck and bad luck . . . randomness, is part of the overall plan. And yeah, you’re right, that we can’t logically CONCLUDE that God cares about us in the way a human would, in an overt, consistent way. But, I think God has given us a matrix which, though NOT fully consistent, DOES have . . . strong tendencies—the reasonable person will TEND to do better; the good person will TEND to be loved more. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to interpret those . . . tendencies . . . as God’s care for us.

Yeah, nothing says “I love you” like a marginally supportive living environment.

You want us to believe that this God is a pleasing idea? You’re not selling it. He may not micromanage, but he could’ve created a much more nurturing environment.

Beauty in nature

(Note that this dialogue is a composite of many atheists. Some were more hardcore, some less hardcore.)

I feel that a rainbow is not any less beautiful because you understand the science behind it.

Sure. Sure. I get that. But to me, there is something about beauty, of all kinds, that transcends the . . . ordinariness of life. I feel it wouldn’t be there unless it . . . came from some greater beauty.

Let me propose an alternative: we’re tuned by evolution to be drawn to some things and away from others. Why are we instinctively repulsed by bad smells or things with a disgusting appearance? Because evolution tuned us that way. It was healthy to avoid eating something rotten, and evolution selected against those humans who didn’t avoid contaminated food.

There’s nothing objectively pretty or sweet-smelling about a flower. It is the way it is because that gave it reproductive success. The stinking corpse lily or skunk cabbage are also successful but in a different way. “A daffodil is pretty” is our programming talking, not something objective. Don’t forget that we’re just Douglas Adams’ puddle, and we’re adapted to the hole, not the other way around.

That we enjoy waterfalls doesn’t mean that a god created them. Thank evolution instead.

Yeah, I understand how you feel. And unless someone is immune to beauty, and the awe and wonder of nature, I think there must be times when everyone has felt there must be something greater than themselves, to put on such a show.

We are programmed to see agency. Is the rustling in the bushes a panther or the wind? The timid hominid who imagined an agent lived for another day, but the unconcerned one might’ve become lunch.

Does this look like a beneficent world?

My problem is that, for every wonderful thing there is an opposite. As Bertrand Russel said, “For my part, I am unable to see any great beauty or harmony in the tapeworm.”

Yes, you could make a long list of how life on earth sucks. Let me add a few more parasite examples from famous naturalists.

I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae [wasp] with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars, or that a cat should play with mice. (Charles Darwin)

When Creationists talk about God creating every individual species as a separate act, they always instance hummingbirds, or orchids, sunflowers and beautiful things. But I tend to think instead of a parasitic worm that is boring through the eye of a boy sitting on the bank of a river in West Africa, [a worm] that’s going to make him blind. (Sir David Attenborough)

Evolution as the reason for why life is the way it is—not a caring god—is the peg that neatly fits that hole.

Absent hard evidence. I come down on the side of metaphysical naturalism . . . Of course . . . I . . . could be wrong.

Yeah, I appreciate that response. I readily admit I could be wrong. We’re both going with what makes MORE sense to us.

Next: the Problem of Evil

I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.
— Frank Lloyd Wright

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Image from Chloe Chen, public domain
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