Suppose Christianity were true. How would we know? What would that look like?

Christianity and naturalism make radically different claims, and their two hypothetical realities should look very different. We should be able to deduce which reality we’re living in by comparing the claims of each worldview with evidence from the real world.

Last time we looked at God’s hiddenness, the fragmentation of religion, scientific knowledge found in Christianity (or not), and the meaning of life. Let’s continue. The naturalism hypothesis is looking pretty good.

Morality

Theism predicts that religion’s moral teachings would be timeless and progressive. The wisdom of heaven might appear crazy to us simple humans, but time after time we’d follow it and discover that it did indeed improve society.

The Bible declares that Christians don’t sin: “No one who is born of God practices sin” (1 John 3:9; see also 3:6, 5:18). With the Christian church run by sinless Christians, the Church’s morality should likewise far outshine that of other institutions.

It doesn’t work that way. Not only is “sinless” not the attribute that springs to mind with many church leaders in the news, Christianity is conservative, not progressive. It is always late to the party, following society after it embraces a new moral outlook. Christianity must be conservative because it is built on the premise that it’s already got things figured out. New ideas—abolition of slavery, democracy, civil rights for all—catch the church off guard. Sometimes the church is mobilized on some of these issues (William Wilberforce against slavery or Martin Luther King for civil rights, for example), though invariably there are factions that resist these social changes. And why are these positions not plain in the Bible? Why did it take close to 2000 years to get on the right side of change? In these examples, the church was merely a tool used by change makers, not the instigator of change.

Christians were on both sides of these moral issues, as is true for any modern moral issue such as same-sex marriage, gay rights, abortion, or euthanasia. Pick the right Bible verses, and God can be used like a puppet and made to support either position. Pick other verses, and God admits to a long list of moral crimes.

As for the church clearly being a morally superior institution, the pedophilia scandals are merely a high-profile example. You can argue that there are just a few bad apples in the church and throw them under the bus for the benefit of the institution, but that simply makes a lie of the Bible’s claim that Christians don’t sin. The church becomes yet another large club that occasionally abuses power with no special claims of moral superiority over any other. So much for the guiding hand of God.

The Bible has a lot to answer for. The Old Testament in particular supports moral positions that modern society has long rejected—genocide, slavery, polygamy, and human sacrifice, for starters.

Christianity declares that morality is grounded exclusively in its god, but then it has a hard time explaining why other cultures without Christian dominance, both current and historical, seem to understand morality just fine. The Problem of Evil—the existence of gratuitous evil despite God taking a loving hand in our lives—also argues against Christianity.

Mind

Theism predicts a mind independent of the body that persists as a soul after the body dies.

In fact, “mind” is just what brains do. The mind’s capability is tied to the capabilities of the brain, and that changes as someone grows from child to mature adult to elderly adult. That capability changes due to physical causes such as being tired, sleepy, stressed, hungry, drunk, or drugged. Damage the brain with dementia or physical injury and you damage the mind, as the story of Phineas Gage illustrates. The fortunes of the mind parallel those of the brain, and no evidence supports an unembodied mind.

Not only do we have a natural explanation for the mind, but physics shows that there is no room for a supernatural soul. There is yet more physics to learn, but we know enough about the physics of our world to know that no as-yet-to-be-found quantum particles could hold or convey the soul.

Growth of religion

Theism predicts that heaven would favor the correct religion.

Christianity did thrive, but that wasn’t because of God’s beneficence but Rome’s. Christianity was just one religion among many until the Edict of Thessalonica in 380 CE made Christianity the state religion of the Roman Empire.

Naturalism predicts that religions struggle, rise, and fall and that none will have any supernatural success. And that’s what we see.

More

If Christianity were true, a single set of moral truths would be held universally, rather than morality varying based on culture.

If Christianity were true, believers wouldn’t use evidence-based reasoning everywhere in life but then switch to faith for evaluating the claims of their religion.

If Christianity were true, faith healers would go to hospitals and reliably produce healings that science verifies.

If Christianity were true, televangelists wouldn’t waste time asking for money from viewers but would get their expenses covered by praying to God themselves. Seen another way, God never gives cash to a ministry, and we should follow his lead.

If Christianity were true, Christians’ testable prophecies about our imminent end wouldn’t invariably be wrong. (Hilariously bad examples: John Hagee and Harold Camping.)

If Christianity were true, its Bible wouldn’t have contradictions, claims of prophecy wouldn’t suck, and it wouldn’t be wrong about the power of prayer.

If Christianity were true, we wouldn’t see its ideas mirrored in other contemporary religions of that part of the world like the Combat Myth, virgin birth stories, and dying and rising gods.

If Christianity were true, everyone would understand the same simple and unambiguous message from God.

Christian response

The typical Christian response is, “But God could have perfectly good reasons that make sense to him that you simply can’t imagine!” And that’s true. This tsunami of examples in which the naturalistic explanation beats theism and Christianity doesn’t prove that Christianity is false; it simply concludes that that’s the way to bet. This Christian argument fails by making the Hypothetical God Fallacy.

Cosmologist Sean Carroll in his debate against William Lane Craig said, “It’s not hard to come up with ex post facto justifications for why God would’ve done it that way. Why is it not hard? Because theism is not well defined.” Christianity is a moving target, not the unchanging wisdom of an unchanging god.

Christian blogger John Mark Reynolds wrote about a time when life was discouraging. After prayer, he saw a rainbow over his house. He said,

Was it chance? It was not. It was God. Would that convince an atheist? Of course it would not, but then it was not a sign for the atheist. God was speaking through nature to me.

Nope. If it wouldn’t convince an atheist, it shouldn’t convince you. If evidence were important, this being nothing more than a nice coincidence according to anyone outside your religion is the clue that you’ve deluded yourself. And that you dismiss that and embrace your interpretation as reality makes clear that you don’t care about evidence to support your belief.

This is the sign of an invented worldview.

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(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 11/21/16.)

Image from Eye See You Two (license CC BY 2.0)

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Simple puzzles can give insight into how our brains work.

Our brains don’t work as well as we might think. We have a poor intuitive grasp of probability (more here and here). We also have lots of inherent biases. For example: new information to correct a misperception can backfire (more here and here), cementing a false belief more strongly. And our memories are unreliable (more here and here).

3 easy puzzles

These puzzles were designed to reveal how our brains are fallible. Write your answers so you can check them below. First, some very easy ones.

1. A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1.00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?

2. If it takes 5 machines 5 minutes to make 5 widgets, how long would it take 100 machines to make 100 widgets?

3. In a lake, there is a patch of lily pads. Every day, the patch doubles in size. If it takes 48 days for the patch to cover the entire lake, how long would it take for the patch to cover half of the lake?

These questions don’t take a lot of thought. Indeed, an intuitive answer pops instantly to mind for some people. How confident are you in your answers?

3 more, about as easy

4. If you’re running a race and you pass the person in second place, what place are you in?

5. A farmer had 15 sheep and all but 8 died. How many are left?

6. Emily’s father has three daughters. The first two are named April and May. What is the third daughter’s name?

The last 3, slightly harder

These last three require more thought.

7. “You are shown a set of four cards placed on a table, each of which has a number on one side and a colored patch on the other side. The visible faces of the cards show 3, 8, red and brown. Which card(s) must you turn over in order to test the truth of the proposition that if a card shows an even number on one face, then its opposite face is red?”

8. You have a rope around an earth-sized sphere at the equator. That makes it about 40,075,160 meters in length. Now you increase the rope length by 10 meters uniformly around the globe so that it’s suspended over the surface equally. What is the gap between the surface of the sphere and the rope?

9. You have 100 pounds of potatoes, which are 99% water by weight. You let them dehydrate until they’re 98% water. Now how much do they weigh?

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 7/6/16.)

Image from hans-juergen (license CC BY-ND 2.0)

Answers on the next page:

When New Testament scholars speak, especially when delivering the consensus of their field, it might be hard for a lay person like me to do anything but accept it. The consensus of these scholars says that Jesus was a historical person, that the tomb was empty, that the experience turned the disciples from cowards into bold proclaimers of the new faith, and so on. These scholars are the experts, and we’re novices.

I’d like to recommend a very different response. I argue that many of these scholars play no part in the consensus of New Testament or biblical scholars because they have disqualified themselves. William Lane Craig, Frank Turek, every professor at Biola—indeed every professor at most other Christian colleges, and more—they’re all disqualified.

Evangelical response to the Jesus Seminar

Let’s start with an attack in the other direction, an objection to the Jesus Seminar by Christian apologist William Lane Craig. The Jesus Seminar was a group of Christian scholars and laypeople who reevaluated the sayings of Jesus from a skeptical viewpoint. Craig said:

Of the 74 [Jesus Seminar fellows] listed in [their] publication The Five Gospels, only 14 would be leading figures in the field of New Testament studies. More than half are basically unknowns, who have published only two or three articles. Eighteen of the fellows have published nothing at all in New Testament studies. Most have relatively undistinguished academic positions, for example, teaching at a community college.

This is a straightforward attack on the Seminar based on their small numbers, lack of credentials, and lack of prestige. Unsurprisingly, Craig thinks that his position is stronger on every point: he represents the group with the big numbers, the complete credentials, and the substantial prestige.

Hold that thought.

The problem of doctrinal statements

Christian colleges or organizations often require that faculty and staff commit to doctrinal statements (also called “faith statements”). Here’s an example. Biola’s Articles of Faith say, in part, “The Scriptures . . . are without error or misstatement in their moral and spiritual teaching and record of historical facts. They are without error or defect of any kind.”

(I’ve written several times about doctrinal statements: here and here.)

The problem with a Bible scholar signing a doctrinal statement is that they have straightjacketed themselves to only reach conclusions about Christianity that are in accord with that statement. Their conclusions in their articles or books are predetermined before they begin their research. For example, if the available evidence points to Jesus not being born of a virgin, they must reject that conclusion because the doctrinal statement says otherwise.

Or see this from the other end: suppose a Biola professor writes a paper that concludes that Jesus was born of a virgin. I can’t simply dismiss the argument, and the argument might be informative, but I have no guarantee that this article weighed the data objectively rather than cherry picking it. This scholar has no inherent reputation, and I’m obliged to evaluate the argument myself.

Contrast that with a historian from Princeton or a cosmologist from CalTech or a physicist from MIT. Here, I don’t have to critique their papers as if I were a member of their discipline but, because I trust their institutions, I can accept those scholars’ conclusions with some confidence that their research was sound.

Where does this leave us?

Let’s return to the title of this post, which referred to the consensus of New Testament scholars. That a claim is the consensus view is typically used to argue that it is a settled position, so we should take it as a given and move forward.

Let me respond by first saying that I always do that with the scientific consensus. Second, there is no religious consensus. The religions of the world can’t even agree on how many gods there are, what their names are, or how to placate them. Every religion is a minority view, and the majority thinks they’re wrong.

And third, if it is to mean anything useful, “the consensus of New Testament scholars” must refer to a set of scholars that are not bound by a doctrinal statement. None of them. Throwing in any scholars who are bound by doctrinal statement—that is, who are obliged what to think and have publicly declared that they won’t honestly follow the evidence—contaminates the set.

Let’s return to William Lane Craig’s portrayal of the Jesus Seminar as a small group with unimpressive credentials and little prestige. Craig might want to rethink his dismissive characterization when he can’t take part in an objective consensus in his own field.

The rest of us should insist that any claimed consensus comes from a group of scholars unbound by doctrinal statements and able to objectively follow the evidence where it leads.

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Image from Wikimedia, public domain
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For a clear and succinct discussion of what evidence is enough to support a claim, one good source is the observations of German philosopher Gotthold Lessing (1729–81). Lessing was a Christian, but he argued that history is insufficient support for religious truths.

He distinguished between the strength of the evidence and the consequences of belief.

We all believe that an Alexander lived who in a short time conquered almost all Asia. But who, on the basis of this belief, would risk anything of great permanent worth, the loss of which would be irreparable? Who, in consequence of this belief, would forswear forever all knowledge that conflicted with this belief? Certainly not I.

(Source: “On the Proof of the Spirit and of Power,” Gotthold Lessing, 1777)

There are thousands of similar instances of the imperfect history record. Consider our difficulty in knowing the details surrounding the Battle of Hastings (1066), a pivotal event to the English-speaking world. We have the Bayeux tapestry, but it presents a compelling case for the legitimacy of William the Conqueror’s possession of England from the winner’s standpoint. Arguments for the legitimacy of the defeated English monarchy were less likely to have been preserved.

Consider Marco Polo. Did he actually spend years in China as a confidante to Kublai Khan or did he just pick up fascinating tales on his travels and weave them into a story?

Did Plato make up Socrates as a literary device to illustrate his points? Was William Tell real? Was Ned Ludd? Robin Hood? King Arthur? Homer?

We want to understand history as correctly as possible, but none of these issues carry much weight. Any new evidence that changes the historical consensus might be newsworthy but would test the worldview of very few people.

The Christian challenge

A popular historical challenge by Christian apologists is to compare the record of Alexander the Great to that of Jesus. Jesus has a better historical argument on every point—there was less time from events to documentation, our copies of the gospels are better and more numerous than any documentation of Alexander, and Jesus is more recent. You accept our account of Alexander from history, my atheist friend? Then you should also accept the far better account of Jesus.

But this argument backfires. If we’re to adopt the best-evidenced claims, what about claims that are far better than those of Christianity? For example, Sathya Sai Baba, an Indian holy man who could raise the dead and be in two places at once, performed his miracles publicly until his death in 2011. Mormonism makes a far better historical case than Christianity (more). Thousands of people who claim to have not only seen UFOs but been abducted can be interviewed today (more).

If the reliability of the claims were actually important, Christians would sooner believe in Sai Baba, Mormonism, and UFO abductions. That they don’t shows that this is simply an argument of convenience, not one on which they built their worldview. And, of course, if this argument doesn’t support their beliefs, why should it convince an outsider?

We must also consider the magnitude of the claims. While details of the Alexander story are debatable, the basics are hard to reject. Twenty new cities named “Alexandria” appeared in times and places consistent with his supposed travels and conquests, and we have coins and statues with his name. Alexander was a military commander, and we know they exist. Historians scrub out any supernatural accretions to the Alexander story. By contrast, the Jesus story is nothing without its supernatural claims. Remove the supernatural from the Jesus story, and you have just the story of a man (more here).

Lessing’s ditch

Lessing makes the point with a metaphor that has become famous.

If no historical truth can be demonstrated, then nothing can be demonstrated by means of historical truths. That is: accidental truths of history can never become the proof of necessary truths of reason. . . . That, then, is the ugly, broad ditch which I cannot get across, however often and however earnestly I have tried to make the leap.

Lessing says that no history—whether the consensus view of historians or not—is sufficient to support the “necessary truths of reason,” which include religious truths.

If the consequences from a mistaken belief are minimal, then what the hell: Homer existed, and Marco Polo really was an important figure in Kublai Khan’s court. I might cross that ditch of historical evidence.

But if there are consequences—if it’s an issue on which I risk something valuable—that’s a ditch I won’t cross without good reason, and “Gee, it’d be nice to be on the other side” isn’t a good reason.

Continue: How Christian Apologists Teleport Across Lessing’s “Ugly, Broad Ditch”

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(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 02/14/15.)

Image from Mike Tungate, CC license

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In part 1, we explored the Backfire Effect, the surprising effect of a correction to deeply held misinformation reinforcing that misinformation.

The first lesson is that the obvious path—simply providing the new information with references—is not the best when recipients could see this as an attack on their worldview. Let’s see if we can do better.

1. Avoid reinforcing the misinformation

The Debunking Handbook is a great resource for understanding the Backfire Effect and how to minimize it. Their first tip is to focus on the facts, not the myth. Using “President Obama is a Muslim” as an example myth, the last thing that the corrector of this misinformation should do is give any more airtime to the myth. In other words, don’t title the article, “Is Obama a Muslim??”

It’s analogous to how to avoid trouble when driving. When bad things are suddenly happening around you, focus on the safe route through the chaos, not on the accident. And when correcting myths, focus on the truth, not the myth.

The article recommends sandwiching the myth in the facts.

• The title should focus on the facts without acknowledging the myth—something like “Obama’s Christianity Is as Deep as MLK’s.”
• Begin the article with facts: Obama’s connection to the church since his twenties, say, or his participation in Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s church.
• Briefly acknowledge the myth, but clearly label it as wrong: “Some people incorrectly think that President Obama is Muslim” for example.
• Conclude by showing how the myth is flawed. Give quotes from respected people making the point or quotes from Obama showing his publicly acknowledged faith, say. End with a quotable line that summarizes the fact.

2. Avoid overkill—less is more

There’s a debate maxim that if you’re explaining, you’re losing. That’s the genius behind the “Gish Gallop,” the technique made famous by young-earth Creationist Duane Gish. During interviews and debates, he would vomit forth a torrent of flawed but compelling challenges to evolution. Biologists interviewed with him would often take the bait and carefully explain why each was crap, but these explanations are long and boring. Gish was firing blanks, but he made a lot of noise and often made the better showing.

When correcting a myth, don’t create obstacles for your reader. A mountain of information may be too much to bother with. Make it easy to access, process, and accept. Instead of a pile of arguments, give just a few key arguments that make the point clearly and painlessly. Remember that you’re arguing against a simple, pleasing myth. Your reader doesn’t want to wrestle with a long and boring dissertation.

The basics of clear communication also apply. Use graphics when possible, use short sentences and short paragraphs, and use headings and simple language. Avoid combative language that will alienate. Be respectful and eliminate emotional language.

The journalist’s pyramid model is another useful tool. The reader might leave at any point, and you want the information to that point to be as complete as possible. Start with a broad, high-level view, and work your way down to the details.

The Debunking Handbook gives an example where three tabs on a web page allow readers to choose to read the information at a basic, intermediate, or advanced level based on their knowledge and interest.

3. Avoid attacking worldviews

Attacking someone’s worldview will likely trigger the Backfire Effect and reinforce their commitment to the misinformation, but there are a couple of tricks to Trojan horse the message past the mental barricades. First, putting people in a positive frame of mind—for example, by asking them to write a few sentences about a time they felt good after acting on an important value—makes a new idea less threatening. The article “How facts backfire” observes:

This would also explain why demagogues benefit from keeping people agitated. The more threatened people feel, the less likely they are to listen to dissenting opinions, and the more easily controlled they are.

Another approach is to frame a message through word choices that minimize attacks on someone’s worldview. The organizer of Seattle Skeptics once made a nice save using this approach. He was giving a talk about the 9/11 Truth movement, which argues that the 9/11 attacks were a conspiracy. He expected an audience of skeptics who accepted the official explanation, but it turned out to be an audience of 9/11 Truthers, who embraced the conspiracy. He quickly reframed his message to be more acceptable by using their approach, which is to ask questions such as, “Why do they not want you to know this? What are they hiding?”

The new Truther-flavored argument went something like this: Here’s a response to one of the popular Truther arguments. Why did I have to tell you this instead of the Truther web sites? What do you suppose they’re hiding?

Does this sound like cheating? The article disagrees: “Self-affirmation and framing aren’t about manipulating people. They give the facts a fighting chance.”

A third option focuses on the source of the flawed information rather than the consumer. Make it hurt to spread misinformation. Increase its reputation cost. For example, FactCheck.org is one organization that tries to hold politicians to a high standard.

You may need to focus your message on the winnable subset of the audience. The curious, questioning, or undecideds may be reachable, while you may have to write off those who have no interest in listening to threatening new ideas.

4. Avoid leaving a mental hole

Don’t simply eliminate the myth in someone’s mind. An incomplete model—that is, a model of how things work with the myth crossed out—causes discomfort. The human mind prefers an incorrect model to an incomplete one. Quickly fill that hole with the correct facts, neatly packaged to drop in as a replacement. With a few sentences, show how this corrected model explains the facts better.

To help pry out the myth, you may want to highlight the techniques that made the myth seem plausible—perhaps they used experts who weren’t experts or cherry picked the data. Also consider exposing the agenda of whoever is pushing the myth.

5. Avoid a combative posture—be partners instead

Instead of an “I’m right and you’re wrong” approach, go into the discussion seeing it as a partnership, with both of you trying to figure out the right answer.

Am I worried that Christians will improve their arguments with information in this post? Not at all. When all communication is clearer and biases are avoided, I win. A clearer atheist position will even more strongly beat a clearer Christian position.

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(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 12/10/14.)

Image via Wikimedia, CC license
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