The Question of Christianity: A Personal Manifesto

Synopsis

In this article I outline the general framework of my overarching approach to the question of whether I should become a Christian. Beginning with William James’ observations that the decision regarding whether to adopt Christianity is both momentous and forced, I acknowledge that Christianity is not merely an intellectual exercise nor necessarily something we decide upon purely by our own volition. Nonetheless I conclude that the question of whether Christianity is in fact true is still paramount, and proceed to examine how one might go about determining the answer to this question. In doing so, I discuss the need to consider arguments for relative plausibility rather than certainty, and outline my view about the importance of basing our beliefs on reasons and evidences that are reliably truth-tracking. I then apply this framework to four major types of arguments advanced in support of Christianity: philosophical arguments for God’s existence, arguments based on the bible, experiential evidences, and the historical evidence for the resurrection of Jesus, in each case discussing how compelling I find the arguments, and why I ultimately find them to be insufficient. I then briefly consider three arguments which I believe mitigate against the truth of Christianity, namely the problem of evil, religious confusion, and evils done in the name of Christianity. I conclude with some reflections on the importance of the question and a plea for more sustained dialogue.

Background and Methodology

Momentous and Forced Options

Most fundamentally, the question I seek to answer is not ‘is Christianity true?’ More important to me is the even broader question ‘should I live as a Christian?’ The second question is related to the first, but the two are not synonymous. In particular, the question as to how one should live one’s life is much deeper and richer than merely a question concerning what is true. It depends not only on questions of facts about existence, but also on one’s values and on a certain element of personal choice as to what one wishes to commit oneself to. It also depends upon the set of plausible alternative life paths that are available, and their relative strengths and weaknesses.

To take a fairly trivial example just to illustrate the point, if Buddhism is true (read ‘the claims made by Buddhism about suffering, reincarnation, nirvana, etc’) and I don’t become a Buddhist, my journey toward enlightenment will be that much slower, but I will still have another chance in another life. This is not the case for Christianity or for Atheism, and as such, the cost of being wrong about Christianity is greater (at least by this analysis) than the cost of being wrong about Buddhism. This is similar to William James’ idea about how ‘momentous’ a decision is: choosing not to live as a Christian is a more momentous decision than choosing not to live as a Buddhist.

The decision to live my life as a Christian is thus what William James calls a “momentous” one: it has weighty consequences. It is also what he calls a ‘forced option’, meaning that I cannot decide to merely sit on the fence and wait until I have more evidence available. Like the decision to get on a train or to get married, there is no middle position available: either I live as a Christian or I do not. I may decide to postpone serious thinking about the question until later, but then I have already made the decision (at least for the moment) to not live as a Christian. I thus find myself forced to choose one path or the other. I can switch paths at any time, but at any given time I am always on one path or the other. (Note that I don’t wish to imply that living as an atheist and living as a Christian are totally distinct paths that always diverge, nonetheless they clearly diverge in enough ways for me to speak of them constituting different paths.)

The Key Questions

So how can I decide whether or not I should live as a Christian? For me there are three main subsidiary questions that I need to address in order to arrive at an answer:

  1. What is the probability that Christianity is true? By ‘Christianity being true’ I mean that ‘Jesus really was the son of God who died and was raised for our sins, etc’.
  2. Is living as a Christian a morally good life? This is where I raise concerns such as being able to trust that God is good given apparent biblical atrocities, etc.
  3. What are the costs of living as a Christian? Here I don’t mean things like ‘won’t get to sleep in on Sundays as often’, I mean more substantive things like giving up other goals and priorities.

Currently I am most interested in answering 1, as I think this is the most important and most difficult of the three. As such, the rest of this essay will be concerned with this question. I may address 2 and 3 in a future piece.

What Role for the Holy Spirit?

Christians generally believe that becoming a Christian is not primarily/not only/not at all (depending on their theological dispositions) something one chooses for oneself. They generally believe that it is something that happens through the grace and intervention of God and the Holy Spirit. I do not wish to dispute this, only to highlight that this point seems to me to be not particularly relevant to my enquiry here. Should I just wait until the moment when God decides to make himself known to me in a way that I will accept, ‘road to Damascus’ style? Whatever the exact role God may or may not play in the process, I still need to decide how to live, and I need to go about answering this question in the best way I can. I can’t control what (if anything) God decides to do for me, and so I find it useful just to speak as if converting to Christianity were something entirely up to my own volition, even if, theologically-speaking, many Christians would not agree with this. Thus, I’m using this language as a shorthand so that I can avoid making this qualification every time.

The Need to Consider Plausibility

How can I decide how likely it is that Christianity is true? In considering this question, it is important to understand what I mean when I talk of probability or plausibility. The fact of the matter is not probabilistic – either Christianity is true or it isn’t. But since I don’t know what the fact of the matter is, the question becomes one of how confident I can be given the evidence that is available. That is, how strongly does the evidence support the contention that Christianity is true over alternate possibilities? I think it absurd to say that it is impossible that Christianity is true, and likewise absurd to say that it is impossible that it is false. Maybe one quarter of both my atheist and Christian readers alike will now find themselves disagreeing, but so be it – I feel quite confident in claiming that neither extreme can be justified. Having ruled out certainty in either direction, I am left in the uncomfortable middle position of having to weigh up relative plausibility. This is no easy task, and so we are led back to our initial question – how can it be done?

Evidence and Truth-Tracking

It is my view that there is only one useful way (meaning ‘a way that actually helps us to achieve our object’) to go about answering this question, and that is by utilising what I (very broadly) call “reason and evidence“. Although there are always more subtleties and complexities than can be gone into at any one time, for now I’ll define “reason and evidence” as being those things that help us, with some better than chance degree of reliability, to ‘track the truth’ of propositions in some relevant subject domain. This notion of truth-tracking is subtle, but extremely important. Informally (I can present a more formal analysis another time for those desiring of more rigour), something is truth-tracking if the presence or existence of that thing tends to go along with, or be indicative of, the truth of certain propositions in a particular domain.

Consider the simple example of tossing a coin. My looking at the coin and seeing which side it landed on (in general) reliably tracks the truth as to what side it actually landed on. If I close my eyes and make a random guess, this does not reliably track the truth of what side it actually landed on. If I was incredibly tired and removed my glasses, my looking at the coin would probably less reliably track the truth as to what side it actually landed on, but would probably still be better than random guessing. Thus truth-tracking is an inherently probabilistic notion, always a matter of degree.

To take a more relevant example, suppose I find an argument for God’s existence which, upon consideration, I find to be quite compelling. Rather than merely assuming that because the argument seems compelling to me, that therefore the conclusion is likely to be true, I ought to ask myself ‘how reliably truth-tracking is the process of people like me analysing such arguments about God’s existence?’ The answer is, in general, that this process is not very reliably truth-tracking at all, as so many intelligent and honest people come to such different conclusions despite going through essentially the same process. I am therefore very wary of any argument which relies on me (or any other lone person) coming to a conclusion on the basis of their own analysis when there exists substantial disagreement on that question among epistemic peers (a consideration which, it should be noted, makes me at least somewhat less confident about nearly everything I say in this piece).

It is often difficult to determine how reliably truth-tracking any given type of argument or mode of reasoning is. However, difficulty in making such a determination does not entail that the concept has no value. It seems that we can say with reasonable confidence that beliefs based on widespread scientific consensus are quite reliably truth-tracking, those based on consensus of historians are somewhat less reliable but still fairly good, arguments that appeal to careful philosophical investigations are quite unreliable but probably still better than naïve unreflective opinion, while convictions based on subjective personal experience are often very unreliable at tracking truth. I wish to emphasise that this does not constitute an adoption of some form of scientism. Subjective personal experience can often be a reliable truth tracker (e.g. how hot is it today?), but I don’t think it very reliably truth-tracking for questions of the sort ‘how likely is Christianity to be true?’. For our purposes here, therefore, I believe it is accurate to say that scientific sorts of evidence are much more reliably truth-tracking than personal experiential evidence.

Needless to say, if I knew what the truth was, I would just believe that, and then I wouldn’t need to worry about all this nonsense about plausibilities and truth tracking. But since I don’t know of any place where true beliefs rain from the sky or grow on trees ready for the picking (that is, there is no easy way to just get straight to true beliefs without mediating processes), I must resort to the next best thing – finding methods that track truth and apply them as best as I can. This won’t guarantee that I hold true beliefs in the end, but given that I don’t know what the truth actually is, this method gives me better chances than any other.

Starting Points: Atheism and Agnosticism

Having established some basis for how I will conduct my analysis, I will now say a few words concerning my starting point. Of course, this is really only a hypothetical starting point, for in practise we all start from wherever we happen to be at the moment, bringing all our personal experience, knowledge, biases, and quirks with us. Nonetheless, I think it can be helpful to consider such a hypothetical starting point as a way of framing one’s thinking. Understood in this manner, therefore, I start from a position that I call atheistic agnosticism. Let me explain each of these terms.

I start from a position of atheism, because I believe that absent a reason to believe something, the proper default position is not to believe it. Crucially, this is not the same as saying that one disbelieves it. Consider “there are an even number of hairs on my head at this moment”. I do not believe this proposition, for I have no reason to. That does not, however, mean that I affirm its converse, “that there are an even number of hairs”, which would be equally unjustified. In this sense I am agnostic: I do not know. I begin the enquiry about Christianity, therefore, as an atheist in the sense that I do not affirm the proposition ‘God exists’, and an agnostic in that I do not have any particular reason to prefer atheism over theism.

I believe that in order to shift from this position of agnosticism and move my confidence in one direction or the other, it is necessary to have, as I say, ‘reasons and evidence’. Remember that by this I just mean things that help me to reliably track the truth of whatever proposition I’m examining. Thus, saying ‘I need a reason to change my beliefs’ is, for me, tantamount to saying: ‘I will only alter my best guess about what is true away from the initial agnostic position because of some factor which I have reason to believe will reliably improve my best guess about what is true’. So I’m not looking for reason or evidence that feels compelling to me, or that helps me to convince others, or that (by some other standard) grants sufficient epistemic ‘warrant’ or ‘justification’ to my belief. I am looking for things that will help me track the truth, so that I can increase the chances that my belief will be accurate, given that I start out from a situation of not knowing what the truth is.

Four Types of Arguments for Christianity

Having laid out this rather extensive groundwork, I will now fairly briefly consider four broad classes of reasons that I have heard offered in support of increasing one’s credence in the truth of Christianity. I find some of these arguments more compelling than others, in the sense that some of them cause me to raise the plausibility I assign to the truth of Christianity more than others, but ultimately none of them cause me to increase my credence by enough to push me above some fuzzy but nonetheless real threshold beyond which I would be willing to affirm the truth of Christianity. For each type of argument, I will briefly explain why I find it lacking.

Philosophical Arguments for the existence of God

This includes the cosmological argument, ontological argument, teleological argument, etc. Philosophers are not the experts on God’s existence, but they are expert on the question of evaluating the strength of philosophical arguments. As such, I regard the collective opinion of professional philosophers to be more reliably truth-tracking than my own personal attempts to evaluable these arguments. Since philosophers are a state of fairly considerable peer disagreement concerning the strength of philosophical arguments for God’s existence, some being persuaded by them, while others are not, I find it hard to accept that the strength of the argument s is sufficiently strong either way for me to reliably make a large update to my opinion in either direction.

On balance, I do think that arguments such as the cosmological argument and the fine-tuning argument constitute some reason for increasing my credence in the proposition that God exists, however because of the immense disagreement surrounding them (and also the many unknowns to which such arguments necessarily appeal, such as knowledge about the nature of time, causation, and possible alternate laws of physics), the amount by which my credence is increased is not large.

Arguments based on the Bible

This category includes arguments based on the power, majesty, coherence, transforming influence, beauty (etc) of the bible. Such arguments are, I think, even weaker than philosophical arguments, in the sense that the fact that one may find a particular holy text to be very powerful, transforming, coherent, etc, is clearly not a very reliable tracker of whether that text is actually true. All one need do is examine what Mormons say of the Book of Mormon, Muslims of the Koran, Buddhists of the Pali Canon, Hindus of the Upanishads, Sikhs of the Guru Granth Sahib, and many other such examples, to see that this method of arriving at beliefs about religious texts is exceptionally unreliable. Most people who read a religious text and find it to be compelling nonetheless are not followers of the correct religion (whichever religion that turns out to be).

Even worse, there are no real criteria on which to judge these sorts of properties. Philosophical arguments are often difficult to judge objectively, but at least there are some clear and agreed upon standards for doing so. In the case of comparing holy texts I would say there are none at all, and that all judgements made concerning the beauty, coherence, and power of such texts are fundamentally little more than subjective reactions which are not truth-tracking in the slightest. Muslims say the Koran is without comparison among any book written by man. Christians say it isn’t. Who is to judge? I know of no criteria on which this can be decided (note that I’m not talking about criteria for historicity. I’m talking about beauty, coherence, power, etc). In the end, I simply find no good reason (again, read ‘truth tracking reason’) to shift my belief in response to considerations such as these.

Subjective and Experiential Reasons

Subjective, experiential, personal reasons for believing in Christianity are not reliable trackers of truth, for essentially the same reasons noted above. Namely, such reasons are clearly not truth-tracking given the immense amount of religious disagreement. Millions of people from dozens of religions around the world and throughout history have reported all sorts of spiritual, supernatural, personal, mystical, divine experiences which have been immensely formative and persuasive for them, and on which they believe their own particular religious beliefs can be justified. Given that such experiences are so diverse and contradictory, however, it is clear that this is not a reliably truth-tracking process for forming beliefs about any particular properties of the divine. Some people think that these are all different manifestations of the same underlying God or spirit, but Christians (generally) do not believe this. Christians believe that they have correct beliefs about God and other religious have incorrect or less correct beliefs. If we are to determine the truth of this claim, we must seek out evidence beyond from subjective religious experiences, for these equally well support essentially all other religious claims. I think subjective religious or spiritual experiences can have value in helping one to stay committed and motivated in one’s chosen faith, but not in providing evidence (in the sense I understand it) that the path one has chosen is the correct one.

Historical Evidence for the Resurrection

The historical evidence for the resurrection of Jesus is, in my view, by far the strongest piece of evidence in favour of the truth of Christianity. Nevertheless, after a great deal of thought and consideration, while I do find that it constitutes a reason for thinking Christianity more probable, I do not think it provides sufficient evidence to overcome the countervailing factors I discuss below. I outline my thinking on this point in detail in my HBS model of the resurrection appearances. In very brief terms, I believe that human psychology and sociology is more than capable of explaining what took place with Jesus’ followers after his death, and that no reference to supernatural interventions is warranted or necessary to explain the way events unfolded.

Three Arguments Against Christianity

I will now, again very briefly, outline some considerations that lead me to think that Christianity is relatively less likely to be true. These reasons are not definitive, but I do think they hold some value as being somewhat reliable in helping me to arrive at true beliefs.

The problem of evil/suffering

I believe that the existence of the immense quantity of apparently pointless suffering in the world is less likely in a universe governed by an all-powerful and all-good God as posited by Christianity. It is true that such a God may have reasons or constraints unknown to us that explain the continued existence of such evils, however I do not believe I have any reason to believe that such reasons or constraints exist. Merely stating this as a possibility does not change the fact that, given what we do know, the amount of suffering that exists in the world and lack of any evident reason for much of it is more consistent with a universe that is not governed by a Christian God than in a universe that is. As such, I believe this constitutes a reason to lower my credence in the truth of Christianity by some non-trivial (though not enormous) amount.

The Problem of Religious Confusion

This problem mirrors concerns raised above about religious disagreement and diversity. It seems to me that the Christian proposition that God wants all mankind to enter into a relationship with him is less consistent with the immense plurality of religions and of apparently genuine religious piety and experience, than the proposition that religion is an invention of man (or also the proposition that God is indifferent to which religion we follow). Again, there may exist reasons why God allows so much apparent religious confusion and competing revelations, etc, however as noted above, the mere possibility of their existence does not alter the fact that we do not know of any such reasons, and yet we do know that religious confusion exists, and seems to conflict with a Christian God’s desire to relate to all of mankind. As such, I consider the problem of religious confusion/divine hiddenness to be a reason to lower my credence in the truth of Christianity. Again, not by an enormous amount, but by an amount that is not insignificant.

Evils done in the name of Christianity

This includes such things as Old Testament atrocities allegedly commanded by God, misogynistic teachings of parts of the Bible and many churches historically, events such as the crusades and inquisitions, Christian homophobic teachings and doctrines, and other such things. None of these are definitive, and indeed I probably regard them as weaker than the previous two concerns, however I do feel that they mitigate somewhat against the plausibility of Christianity, so I include them here.

Conclusions

The brief analyses of the various arguments I have provided above will no doubt be unsatisfying to many readers. They are intended more as summaries of my thinking and as starting points for further discussion, rather than as comprehensive or definitive accounts. All in all, after considering the arguments, I am left in a position of thinking that the reasons advanced for increasing my credence in the truth of Christianity are outweighed by the reasons to reduce my credence, and so are insufficient for me to be willing to affirm the truth of Christianity. (Note, however, that I am less confident about my ‘reasons against’ than I am that the provided ‘reasons for’ are insufficient).

Returning to my original question, I find that the probability that Christianity is true given the truth-tracking reasons I have available is too low for me to feel like becoming a Christian is the best decision for my life. This is where I currently stand, acknowledging a great deal of uncertainty and ignorance on my part. I am constantly searching for additional reasons, new considerations, and previously unconsidered evidences that may lead me to change my mind. Indeed, I think I have good reason to expect to find at least some such reasons and evidences, as I have changed my mind about such things several times in the past. My opinion is therefore provisional and subject to change as I learn and think more. That said, I will not change my beliefs without reasons of the sort I have described. I want to believe truth things and live my life accordingly, and truth-tracking reasons (or something very much like them, even if I choose to abandon that particular mode of description) are the best way I know of achieving this, given the state of ignorance in which I begin.

I would hope others would join me in this quest for truth, and that we can aid each other in pursuing our end with firm resolve, not wavering, without fear for what false beliefs we may need to give up, or new true ones we may need to adopt. This journey is not easy. We must not get complacent because of the comfort of a waystation we find along the way. As long as ignorance remains – and for us humans it always does – the journey must go on. We must not be satisfied with anything less than beliefs that are as true as we can reasonably make them. For questions as important as those we consider here, nothing less will do.

Should I Worship an Evil God?

Synopsis

In this piece I argue that it is possible for God to exist but be unworthy of our worship (or at least of my worship). I discuss what traits I believe a God would not to exhibit in order for me to desire to worship him, and then defend my views against the charge that I am being arrogant in placing my own views of goodness above those of God. I conclude with some reflections on why this issue is important.

Could God be Unworthy of Worship?

Suppose that I came to believe in the existence of an all-powerful God who created us, and who reveals himself to mankind by various means, such as scripture or experiences of the divine. My question is, should I worship such a God? By ‘worship’, I mean (something like) devoting my life to that being, showing them admiration, reverence, paying thanks, granting praise, etc.

My answer to this question is ‘it depends’. Specifically, it depends on whether said being is a good God. By this I do not mean ‘does this being declare themselves to be good?’ (for sinners also do the same), but rather ‘do they satisfy what I believe are the standards of goodness?’ My standard of goodness for God would be something like ‘exhibiting a deep love and concern for all sentient beings, and doing everything within its power to promote the ultimate welfare of such beings’. According to some Christians I have spoken with or read, particularly those coming from a reformed tradition, God does not exhibit such qualities. They say things to the effect that mankind has rebelled against God and rejected him, and as such God no longer has any obligations to them. God is righteously angered (some may substitute a different word here which expresses a very similar meaning) towards mankind because of this rebellion. As such, God chooses to enter into a renewed relationship with some people (‘saving’ them), but not with others. That is his prerogative and perfectly just, as no one is deserving of such treatment at all, so there is no basis on which anyone can complain or claim unjust treatment for not receiving it.

If God is like this, then I do not judge God to be good by my criteria. I couldn’t care in the slightest whether or not God has a moral (or really any sort of) obligation towards mankind, nor could I care less if mankind rejected God seventy times, or even seventy times seven. To do good is, I believe, to strive to promote the ultimate wellbeing of others, regardless of whether or not they have treated you nicely or fairly or justly. If God is not doing this, if he is doing any less than his utmost to promote the wellbeing of mankind, if he is picking and choosing whom to save (or whatever word one cares to use) on the basis of some arbitrary whim and then justifying this on the basis that he has no ‘obligation’ to anyone because they all rejected him, then I call that God nasty, petty, callous, and uncaring. I will not devote my life to such a God, shout hosanna to them, or express unqualified rapturous gratitude to them. I will use what is left of my life to do what I can to help others, and then after I die I will face the eternal conscious torment that at least some Christians believe such a God has justly prepared for me. I’d rather suffer in hell than undeservedly worship the creator of such a horrific place in the obsequious hope of avoiding being sent there.

Am I Being Arrogant?

Is it not exceptionally arrogant (a word I henceforth use to mean ‘too stubborn and overconfident in one’s beliefs’) to declare that God must adhere to my standards of goodness and morality, especially given that I have assented to the proposition that such a being is our creator and is immensely powerful and knowledgeable? I don’t think so. Why should it be the case that because God is our all-powerful all-knowing creator, that therefore he must be good and worthy of worship? What justification is there for such a belief? To me it seems totally without basis, and indeed stands in direct contradiction with our overwhelming evidence that power and intelligence do not in any way imply goodness or virtue. God could be all knowing and all powerful, but just not care very much (or at all) about the welfare of his creation. If that is what God is like, then why should I devote my life to him? Why should I worship him? I’m totally serious about this – I can’t understand how anyone would want to worship such a being, even if they believed very strongly that he existed. Maybe I’m missing something, maybe I’m looking at this all the wrong way, but currently I feel no desire whatever to worship a being of this sort, nor can I see any reason as to why I should have such a desire – again, even if I strongly believed he existed.

Many Christians speak of how they came to a firm conviction that God exists by sensing his actions in their life, or by reading the bible, or by considering various other arguments and evidences, or by some combination of these methods. Whatever its genesis, making such an emphatic and strong claim is, in my view, profoundly arrogant. If someone thinks that God has revealed himself to them in some personal or experiential way, they believe not only that God has chosen to reveal himself to them when so many others do not receive such divine favour, but also that they have been able to correctly understand and interpret God’s intended message while so many others are deceived or mislead by their spiritual experiences. Similarly, if someone believes that they have come to a correct understanding of God through careful study and analysis of the arguments, then they believe that they have managed to see the evidence clearly and correctly where so many other learned and intelligent people have failed (including both non-theists and adherents of other religions).

Either way, or in the case of a mixture of the two methods, a Christian who claims strong confidence in their beliefs is, I think, making an exceptionally arrogant claim. (Note: I am not saying that Christians are arrogant. I am saying rather that Christians who claim such high confidence are exhibiting arrogance in making this particular claim. I have argued this point in more detail here.) This doesn’t make the claim false, but I think it is grossly inconsistent for a Christian to state that they have seen past all the potential confusions of human psychology, false spirits, bad arguments, and all the rest, and have been able to accurately grasp some of the most profound and deepest truths of human existence, whilst simultaneously criticising as arrogant my claim, which I regard to be the relevantly innocuous, that I have no reason to worship a God who does not care deeply and supremely about the welfare of all sentient beings and do all within his power to help them.

Many Christians speak of how the positive influence of God in their lives is a factor that strengthens their faith. And yet, when I express my negative reactions to certain Christian beliefs about God’s nature, I am accused of being irrational and allowing emotions to cloud my judgement. Not only does this seem to me to be grossly inconsistent, but it also misunderstands the nature of my claim. I am not claiming that the truth of God’s nature or existence is in any way affected by my moral reaction to it (which I think is totally different from ’emotion’, but let’s leave that for the moment). Rather, I am claiming that my moral reaction to God’s nature is relevant to my decision about whether to devote my life to worship of said God. Given that often Christians will speak of how their reading about or contemplation of God leads them to see how amazingly good and worthy of worship he is, I hardly see it as consistent to then criticise me for expressing my reservations about devoting myself to God on the basis that when I read about or contemplate certain teachings about his nature, I am led to see how morally inadequate and unworthy of worship he is (at least according to these particular understandings of God).

Conclusion

I am not claiming here that God is unworthy of worship, or that the Christian God is an evil God. I am not even saying that the God as understood by the particular reformed perspective to which I react so negatively is necessarily ‘evil’. What I am saying is that if certain beliefs about the nature of God are correct, then I see no reason to worship or unreservedly praise such a being. This is important, because it means that if I were to adopt Christianity or another other religion, I would need to be persuaded not only of the existence of whatever divine being the religion believes in, but also of the desirability and rightness of worshipping such a being. I need to be persuaded both that God exists, and that God is good. Either alone is insufficient.

Weighing up the Arguments For and Against Christianity

Synopsis

In this piece I outline an approach to weighing up the degree of evidence in favour of Christianity with the degree of evidence against it. I discuss this approach in analogical terms as similar considering how much load (arguments against) can be borne by the legs of a table (arguments for), in order to support justified belief in a proposition (the table, or in this case belief in Christianity). Having outlined this framework, I then proceed to list the fourteen key pieces of evidence which I think are relevant, and whether I think they provide evidence for or against Christianity. I conclude by offering some personal reflections on my subjective sense as to how these different evidences balance out against each other.

Specifying the Question

Suppose that we agree to the following set of propositions:

  1. A creator God exists
  2. This God is omnipotent and omniscient
  3. This God desires to communicate his divine will to all mankind and aid everyone in entering into a willing relationship with him

Subject to minor rewording of 3 to rectify various possible quibbles, when I use the word ‘God’ henceforth in this piece, I mean a God that satisfies 1-3.

These three propositions, as I take it, represent approximately the limits of what the many philosophical arguments for the existence of God can establish (e.g. the cosmological argument, the moral argument, the teleological argument, the ontological argument, the transcendental argument, etc). What I aim to do here is presuppose the success of such arguments in establishing 1-3, and then consider the question as to which of the world’s revealed religions are genuine instances of divine communication with humanity which preserve (to a reasonable level of accuracy) divine teachings and intentions. In particular, I wish to consider (multi-part) proposition:

4. The life of Jesus of Nazareth (and the events surrounding it) was the supreme method by which God has revealed himself to humanity, and the teachings of Christianity accurately indicate God’s will for mankind.

Although not its strict logical negation, for our purposes here I wish to consider its counterpart as:

4′. Christianity is not uniquely divinely inspired (either not at all, or at least no more than many other religions), but instead developed over historical time as a result of the shifting and often   conflicting ideas, motivations, and opinions of many different individuals (i.e. like Christians would believe other religions developed).

Henceforth, when I talk about ‘Christianity being true’ (or similar), I am referring to the truth of 4. Rather than speaking of Christianity being false, I shall instead refer to the truth of 4′. I acknowledge that 4 and 4′ are not strictly speaking negations of one another, but for our purposes here I think they serve as the most useful propositions to juxtapose.

An Analogy: Supporting Legs and Heavy Bricks

The following analogy may help readers to understand the approach I take here. Being an analogy, it is of course imperfect, but hopefully it will nonetheless still be of use.

Consider a circular table. The table is supported by many legs, each bearing some portion of its weight. The table is old and somewhat lopsided, so each leg does not necessarily support the same amount of weight as every other. On top of the table are a number of bricks, each of varying mass. The larger the combined mass of the bricks, the more likely it is that the legs will be unable to support total weight, and table the will come crashing to the floor. Conversely, the larger the combined weight the legs are able to bear, the higher will be the total mass of bricks the table will be able to support.

In this analogy, the table represents our (potential) justified belief in the truth of Christianity. Each brick represents a piece of evidence/argument/observation/fact/etc (henceforth simply ‘evidence’) which makes it more difficult to retain justified belief in Christianity; that is, the bricks are evidences against the truth of Christianity. Each leg represents a piece of evidence which supports our justified belief in Christianity. No single leg alone need bear all the weight of ‘justifying’ Christianity, but the combined weight they bear must be at least equal to the total weight of the bricks. (I don’t think it much matters if the tabletop itself is thought of as having weight or not.) The number of bricks is not important, because a single very heavy brick could be enough to bring down the table. Likewise the number of legs is not important, for a single sufficiently sturdy leg could be enough to support a very large weight.

Our first task is to examine what are the key legs supporting the table, and what are the key bricks pushing down on it. The next step is then to estimate the total weight of the bricks, and compare it to the total weight bearing capacity of the legs. The purpose in approaching the problem this way is that everyone seems to have their own intuitive sense of whether the table stands or falls, but without some way of more carefully identifying which legs support how much weight, it is very difficult (perhaps impossible) to adjudicate disagreements about the table as a whole. My aim here is to try to break the question down into smaller parts, and see whether those parts represent bricks or legs. I will not, in this piece, attempt the second step of weighing up the weight supported to the total weight of bricks.

The Technical Version: Taking Partial Derivatives

The following is a more formal account of the approach outlined in the analogy above. If you find it confusing, skip this section.

Consider a differentiable function f(e), which maps a vector of evidences e onto a real number in the interval (0,1), which number represents our degree of justification or support for 4 given 1-3. The partial derivative of f with respect to each ei represents the bearing that evidence i has on our degree of justified belief in 4. If the partial derivative is zero, the evidence is irrelevant and can be ignored. If the partial derivative is positive, the piece of evidence provides support for 4, while if it is negative it provides evidence against it.

The taking of partial derivatives is important, because in practise we do not know the functional form of f, but we may be able to determine the sign of each partial derivative, and hence the relevance of each piece of evidence considered individually. We may then attempt to heuristically estimate the plausible magnitudes of these partial derivatives, and hence arrive at a judgement concerning the overall strength of the arguments for compared to the arguments against, even in the absence of exact knowledge of the form of f.

In the following section, when I speak of a piece of evidence e1 being ‘more consistent’ with state of affairs A than state ~A, I mean something like ‘P(A|e1) > P(~A|e1)’, where P is understood to be the marginal distribution over all other evidences ei (that is, we are considering the partial effect of e1 alone on our belief).

The Evidences

The reader will note that there are eight ‘against’ arguments and only six ‘for’. No doubt that this reflects, in part, my own personal bias and limited perspective. It is important to note, however, that as I stated previously, the number of arguments is irrelevant, not least of all because whether a given ‘argument’ is split up into sub-parts or combined into a single whole is arbitrary. The important question is the relative combined ‘weight’ of the ‘bricks’ (arguments against) compared to the combined ‘weight-bearing capacity’ of the ‘legs’ (arguments for). I make no claims to answer that question in this piece – here I attempt only to outline the key arguments, and indicate which ‘direction’ I believe they point in, that is in favour of 4 or in favour of 4′.

Against (‘Bricks’)

For (‘Legs’)

SufferingGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the amount and degree of suffering in the world is more consistent with 4′ than 4, given that 4 entails that God is all good and loving.
Resurrection AppearancesGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the reports of Jesus appearing to many groups of people following his death is evidence in favour of 4.
Conversion of PaulGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the sudden and unexpected conversion of Paul is evidence in favour of 4.
The Empty TombGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the early accounts of Jesus’ tomb being found empty by women is evidence in favour of 4 over 4′.
Cognitive Biases and Social InfluencesGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the sorts of cognitive biases, memory failings, and social influences that I document in my HBS model are evidence against 4 and in favour of 4′, since by such processes beliefs in miracles and divine revelation can (at least to some degree) develop in the absence of any actual divine intervention.
Immoral CommandmentsGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the numerous immoral commandments in the bible (very harsh penalties in Law of Moses, genocidal orders, treatment of women, condoning slavery, etc) are evidence in favour of 4′ over 4, given we would expect God to reveal a fair, just moral law, but would not necessarily expect this given 4′.
Cultural BoundednessGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the fact that Judaism and later Christianity were for most of history only accessible and known to a small fraction of the world’s population is evidence against 4.
Size and Staying PowerGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the fact that Christianity is the world’s largest religion, with a significant presence across large parts of the world today, and having survived many centuries of change and disruption, is evidence in favour of 4 over 4′.
Doctrinal ConfusionsGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the significant disagreement between Christians, both historically and at present, about many important questions concerning the nature of God and of his word is more consistent with 4′ than with 4.
Subjective Religious ExperienceGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the very powerful feelings of peace, guidance, love, etc that many Christians feel with respect to God are evidence in favour of 4 over 4′.
Conflicting Religious ExperienceGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the very powerful feelings of peace, guidance, love, etc that many non-Christians feel with respect to beliefs they hold are evidence against 4.
Biblical ConfirmationsGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the archaeological and historical support for the accuracy of many aspects of the new and old testaments is evidence for 4 over 4′.
Biblical DisconfirmationsGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the conflict of certain events of the bible with archaeological and historical evidence (such as the nativity accounts and the exodus) are evidence in favour of 4′ over 4. Note: I would also include creation, the flood, the tower of babel, and numerous other events here as well, but only if they are interpreted as literal historical events. I do not think that 4 entails such beliefs, but some Christians do.
Changing DoctrinesGiven 1-3, then ceteris paribus the significant doctrinal changes introduced by Jesus and Paul over traditional Jewish teachings (e.g. superseding much of the Law of Moses, new ideas about hell, the atonement, altered interpretation of Messianic prophecies, etc) are more consistent with 4′ than with 4, given that 4 includes notions of God being unchangeable and consistent.

 

Irrelevant Considerations

Here I will simply list, without explanation, a number of considerations which are often raised as being potentially relevant to the question of the truth of Christianity, but which I do not believe offer particularly strong support either for 4 over 4′, or for 4′ over 4.

  • Christians doing good at present or historically
  • Christians doing evil at present or historically
  • Similarities of Christian beliefs to other religious mythology
  • The doctrine of the trinity
  • Personifications of God in the bible (e.g. speaking as if God had a physical body)
  • The religious beliefs (or absence thereof) of Hitler, Stalin, or Darwin
  • The existence or findings of science (aside from certain findings of psychology and archaeology, as outlined above)
  • The coherence or compellingness of Christian doctrinal teachings

Some Personal Reflections

I will conclude with a few brief thoughts about where I personally stand currently on weighing up the evidences. Very loosely, I tend to think that the biblical confirmations and disconfirmations roughly ‘cancel out’ (i.e. the weight added by the brick of disconfirmations is roughly the same as that supported by the confirmations). I think likewise that subjective experience is roughly cancelled out by conflicting experiences, and that cultural boundedness is roughly cancelled out by size and staying power, though in these cases I might lean towards saying that the bricks are somewhat heavier than the corresponding legs support. I think that the cognitive biases brick noticeably outweighs the resurrection appearances, empty tomb, and conversion of Paul all combined. I tend to think that suffering, immoral commandments, and doctrinal changes are problematic bricks without any sufficiently compensating load-bearing legs, though I am not especially confident about this. I also suspect that (given my bias) this list is more likely to omit some important ‘legs’ than it is likely to omit some important ‘bricks’.

Overall, I am left with a conviction that even given 1-3, Christianity is noticeably, but not overwhelmingly, more likely to be false than true. Maybe I’d put my subjective degree of belief (again, conditional on 1-3) at around 0.2, which large margins of error. Though strictly speaking outside the scope of this piece, I would accord a similar, though perhaps slightly higher, degree of belief in 1-3 themselves, for which reason I call myself an atheist. The truth of the matter is, of course, not in any way affected by my degree of belief. Nevertheless, I want to hold true beliefs and avoid falsehoods, and this article represents a summary of my recent manner of thinking about how to best achieve this goal. I hope it will be of use to others and simulate further discussion and profitable exploration of these important ideas.

Why I Left Mormonism and Became an Atheist, and What it Would take for me to Return to Religion

Synopsis

In this piece I discuss my five main reasons for leaving Mormonism: historical anachronisms in the Book of Mormon, the existence of many competing prophets and holy books, changes made to temple ordinances, the inaccuracy of Joseph Smith’s translation of the Book of Abraham, and the unreliability of subjective spiritual experiences as evidence. For each reason I include a reflection as to the general lesson I learned from this which I now apply in my examination of other religions. I conclude with some remarks about the important of seeking truth through reason and consideration of alternative views.

Introduction

I was born into a Mormon family. Both my parents were Mormons, and for the first twenty years of my life we went to church (more or less) every Sunday. I regularly read the Book of Mormon and other scriptures, attended additional church activities, volunteered at church events, and on several occasions gave talks at different congregations. When I was nineteen years old I went overseas for nine months (shorter than the usual two years owing to health reasons), to share the teachings of my church full time in what Mormons call ‘serving a mission’.

Several months after returning home, I was preparing a church lesson that I was to present when in the course of my research I stumbled across some historical information about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon which was concerning to me and with which I had previously been unfamiliar. I cannot recall exactly what this first material was, but it marked the beginning of a period (from 19th December 2009 to 28th February 2010) of intense study, reflection, and prayer. After a great deal of reading and an immense quantity of soul-searching, I eventually came to the conclusion that I was most likely mistaken in my beliefs, and that Mormonism was probably not the true religion.

I told my parents of my decision on the morning of Sunday 28th February 2010, and as of that day I stopped going to church, and have never returned since. In the intervening five years, I have learnt much more about philosophy, history, and science, and grown a great deal as a person. Nevertheless, my outlook and views are still shaped to a significant degree by my time spent as a Mormon, and my experiences in leaving Mormonism.

In this piece, therefore, I explain my reasons why I changed my beliefs, and the lessons I believe that I learned from these reasons which affect how I evaluate religious and other claims to this day.

Book of Mormon Anachronisms

Key point: the Book of Mormon contains numerous references to animals, technologies, and languages which did not exist in pre-Columbian America.

Out of Place Animals and Artefacts

I was raised to believe, as do most Mormons, that the Book of Mormon is an ancient record of various peoples who lived on the American continent which Joseph Smith translated into English by the power of God. It was not always clear to me how the events it narrates intersected with secular history, but nonetheless I believed that the two would be reconcilable if we had sufficient information. When I began to read more concerning the historicity of the Book of Mormon, however, I discovered that many specific practices, animals, and objects that it refers to simply did not exist in Pre-Columbian America.

Among those things mentioned explicitly in the Book of Mormon for which (as far as I am aware) no evidence has been found in ancient American cultures, and which mainstream scholars and scientific institutions do not believe existed or were found in the ancient Americas, include:

  • Knowledge of Hebrew or other Semitic languages (Mosiah 1:2, Mormon 9:33)
  • Jewish religious sacrifices, priests, temples, etc, (Mosiah 6:3, Mosiah 2:3, 2 Ne. 5:15)
  • Jewish synagogues (Alma 16:13, Alma 32:1)
  • Record keeping on plates (Mosiah 8:5,9)
  • Horses or the wheel (3 Ne. 3:22, 3 Ne. 4:4, Alma 18:9-12, 1 Ne. 18:25, Enos 1:21, Alma 20:6, Ether 9:19)
  • Domesticated cattle (Enos 1:21, Mosiah 13:18, 3 Ne. 3:22, 3 Ne. 6:1, Ether 9:18)
  • Donkeys (Mosiah 12:5)
  • Steel (Jarom 1:8, 2 Ne. 5:15, Ether 7:9)
  • Advanced metallurgy, including smelting (Mosiah 21:27, Helamen 6:11, Ether 7:9, Ether 10:23, 2 Ne. 5:14)
  • Silk (1 Ne. 13:7, Alma 1:29, Alma 4:6, Ether 9:17, Ether 10:24)
  • A land northward covered with bones, rusted metal weapons, bronze and copper breastplates, many ruined buildings, and more written records (Mosiah 8:8-10)
  • A tradition or mythology of being cast out of an ancient land and travelling across the sea (Mosiah 10:12)
  • Metal coinage (Alma 11:5-19)

Apologetic Responses

Learning about all these discrepancies was greatly disturbing to me. Like many Mormons, I was ignorant about the history and archaeology of the ancient Americas, and was not aware that the sorts of artefacts that the Book of Mormon predicated should exist simply had never been found. I went to the Mormon apologetics websites to see what responses existed, thinking there was presumably some explanation for such apparent discrepancies. The responses that I found seemed to fall into three main categories:

  • Appeals to some obscure finding of a possible horse fossil or piece of steel, etc, which were advanced by various Mormon apologist scholars but did not seem to be accepted by any other academics.
  • Claims that the Lehites, Jarodites, and Mulekites (the three separate groups of people the Book of Mormon mentions having travelled to the Americas from the Old World) were only some of the peoples present in the ancient Americas, and thus we fail to find remains of their language, buildings, or material culture because there constituted only a fairly small proportion of the overall population.
  • By far the most common response, however, is that when Joseph Smith used words like ‘horse’, ‘steel’, and ‘silk’, he was not referring to horses, steel, and silk as we would understand them, but rather was using these words as translations for words which originally referred to something that looked somewhat like, or functioned somewhat like, horses, steel, silk, etc. Thus, the translation is not literal, but analogical. Horse does not refer to Equus ferus caballus, but instead to llamas or deer or some other animal, and is only rendered as horse for ease of narration and understanding.

My Reaction to the Responses

I thought about these responses, read some rebuttals to them written by others, and eventually came to the following conclusions:

  • Obscure findings not accepted by mainstream scholars and scientists might be legitimate, but it is unlikely. The fact that mainstream scholarship does not support the historicity of the Book of Mormon in the way that it does for much of the Bible (at least post-Exodus) counts as evidence against it being a historical record, even if it is not totally decisive evidence.
  • Other peoples may have existed in the Americas at the time or after the time of the Book of Mormon (though this is not a belief that seems to be widespread in ‘Mormon culture’, where generally it seems to be believed that Native Americas are descended from Lehites and Mulekites), however the cities spoken of in the Book of Mormon are large enough and the cultures advanced enough that we should expect to see at least some surviving remains and records.
  • The explanation about ‘alternate translations’ was the one I found least compelling. First of all, this is something virtually no Mormons I knew believed or spoke about – certainly I was always brought up to believe that in the Book of Mormon, horse meant horse, steel meant steel, etc. Secondly, many of the items referred to simply have no known plausible alternate referent: there are no pre-Columbian domesticated animals that were anything like horses or cattle or sheep. Bison (one proposed candidate for ‘cattle’), were never domesticated, and deer (a proposed candidate for ‘horses’) are not ridden or used to pull chariots. Another suggestion is that ‘horses’ refers to ‘llamas’, but horses and llamas are really nothing like each other, and llamas are not used to pull chariots. Likewise, there was no smelted metal that was used at the time in ancient America which could plausibly be described as ‘steel’. Thirdly, the notion that ‘horses’ and ‘cattle’ are loose translations of some other form of animal seems inconsistent with the fact that some names in the Book of Mormon are left untranslated, including the unknown metal ziff (Mosiah 11:8), and the animals ‘cureloms and cumoms’ (Ether 9:19). It seems implausible that Joseph Smith would choose to, or be instructed to, use misleading translations like ‘horse’ and ‘steel’ whilst at the same time leaving some names untranslated. If ‘steel’ is actually some other metal or material, why not leave that untranslated? Of why not just call ziff ‘steel’? This inconsistently seems to have no explanation if Joseph was indeed receiving divine revelation during his translation.

Problems with Dating the Birth of Christ

There is one further problem with the historical accuracy with the Book of Mormon which, as far as I know, I may be the first to have noticed (I’m sure other people have come across this too, but I can’t recall having read of it anywhere else). The problem concerns that dating of the birth of Christ. 1 Nephi 1:4 states clearly that the record begins at the beginning of the first year of the reign of Zedekiah, which has been dated to 597 BC. In 3 Nephi 1 versus 1,4, and 26, it is made clear that the signs associated with the birth of Christ occurred exactly 601 years after Lehi left Jerusalem. So, if Lehi left Jerusalem in 597 BC and Christ was born 601 years afterwards, that places Christ’s birth in the year AD 5 (remembering there was no year 0). This date is simply far too late; even the traditional dating places Christ’s birth at 1 BC, and most modern scholars accept a date of 4 BC or earlier, given that Herod died in this year and so was not alive in 1 BC.

Thus, according to the Book of Mormon, Jesus was born about nine years after he actually was. I do not think it is plausible to argue that the dates given are approximate, as says quite clearly ‘the ninety and second year of the reign of the judges’. This also tallies with Mosiah 29:46, which tells us that the first year of the reign of the judges (when Mosiah died) occurred 509 years after Lehi left Jerusalem, and 509 plus ninety-two equals 601. Joseph Smith was generally quite good with keeping dates in the Book of Mormon internally consistent, but in the one instance where we have the ability to cross-reference them with known historical events we find a discrepancy. A nine year discrepancy in dates is hardly sufficient by itself to totally discredit the Book of Mormon, but to me it was interesting (as I discovered it myself as far as I know) counterevidence to the belief that the book was divinely inspired, especially given that Joseph Smith declared the Book of Mormon to be “the most correct of any Book on earth”.

Lesson 1: Historicity matters

The lesson that I take away from this examination of the historicity of the Book of Mormon is that it is exceptionally important to examine religious events that claim to be historical, and determine whether their claims are consistent with what is known from history and archaeology. Any inconsistencies that are uncovered do not by themselves necessarily disprove the religious claim, since history and archaeology can be wrong. Inconsistencies of this sort do, I think, count as evidence against the claims, and the greater are the discrepancies, the less plausible it becomes that the religious events in question actually took place.

Before accepting a new religion, therefore, I would need to conduct a careful investigation of whatever historical claims it makes, and determine the extent to which they are validated by, or at the very least consistent with, what we otherwise know about history. This is one reason why, for instance, I have become very interested in the historicity of the New Testament, and am concerned by some of its potential inconsistencies and problems (particularly the birth narratives). I am now very wary of religions that make false claims about history.

Competing Prophets and Holy Books

Key point: there are numerous prophets and holy men who have produced their own works of scripture comparable in various ways to the Book of Mormon, and there is no clear basis for accepting the claims of one over the other.

Other Claimed Prophets and their Scriptures

One of the most common reasons for accepting the Book of Mormon as divinely inspired that I heard as a Mormon was that there is no possibility that an uneducated young man like Joseph Smith could have written the Book of Mormon by himself, given its considerable length, narrative complexity, internal consistency, inclusion of many specific cultural and technical details, and application of various literary conventions. I myself found this argument quite compelling for quite some time. During the course of my research, however, I discovered that there have been a great many alleged ‘prophets’ who, like Joseph Smith, have written lengthy and intricate works which they claim to have been revelations or divinely-inspired translations of ancient records.

A brief selection of some of these, many of them being breakaways from the main body of the Mormon church, includes: James Strang who wrote The Book of the Law of the Lord, Goker Harim who wrote The Sealed Portion of the Brother of Jared, Christopher Marc Nemelka who wrote The Sealed Portion: The Final Testament of Jesus Christ, Art Bulla who wrote The Revelations of Jesus Christ, and Joseph Morris who wrote The Spirit Prevails. Particularly intriguing is the case of Pearl Lenore Curran, an alleged spirit medium around the turn of the 20th century who produced a voluminous amount of literature (including many poems) allegedly all authored by the spirit she was in contact with.

View of the Hebrews

I also found out about a very interesting work called View of the Hebrews, which was published seven years before the Book of Mormon by New England clergyman Ethan Smith. It shares with the Book of Mormon a number of key themes, including that native Americans are descended from Israel, and the inclusion of many references to Old Testament prophets. There is no evidence of which I am aware that Joseph Smith knew of this book or copied it in any direct way, and there are many differences of details between the Book of Mormon and View of the Hebrews.

I do believe, however, that the existence of this work does show that many of the core ideas and major themes of the Book of Mormon were already circulating in the intellectual and social spheres in which Smith was raised. This does not prove that the Book of Mormon is not divinely inspired, but it seems to me more consistent with the hypothesis that Joseph Smith wrote the book out of his own (very vivid) imagination drawing upon ideas that were current at the time, than with the hypothesis that the content of the book was revealed de novo from a divine source.

Could Joseph Smith have written the Book of Mormon?

Another claim with which I was familiar was that the time taken to translate the Book of Mormon was far too short for it to have been done without divine inspiration. During the course of my research I began to have doubts about this claim, and at one point I sat down to do the math. The bulk of the Book of Mormon was dictated by Joseph Smith during a single period of 90 days, some sources saying that only about 65 of these days having been used for translation work. The Book of Mormon is 275,000 words long (which includes quite a lot of material copied verbatim from Isaiah which should probably be excluded from this count). If we assume Smith worked 65 days, he must have produced an average of 4,200 words per day, which for an eight hour day is roughly 530 words per hour, or about nine words per minute. Putting it that way, the output seemed much less miraculous to me. Still quite impressive to be sure (Smith was known to be a keen story teller and have a very active imagination), but hardly superhuman.

It must also be remembered that Smith originally started writing over a year before, when he produced the 116 pages that were subsequently lost. Thus Smith had quite a lot of time to think about, and perhaps even make notes, concerning his story – it’s certainly not the case that he started from scratch at the beginning of those 90 days. Also, Joseph Smith had a further eight months to make corrections and adjustments before the book was first published in 1830. Even then, the first edition is not the polished work we read now: it was not broken up into versus, and the chapter divisions were much longer and different to those now used. There were also a large number of spelling and grammatical errors which were progressively corrected by the church in subsequent editions. Considering all these factors, I came to conclude that although the production of the work by Joseph Smith was quite impressive, it was not a superhuman feat, and can certainly be explained without appeals to divine revelation.

Lesson 2: Comparative religion matters

The primary lesson I have taken away from this analysis of different prophetic works is the importance of not considering the merits of only a single perspective, but to instead compare the relative merits of different religious teachings. Joseph Smith’s claims and writings looked far more impressive to me when they were all I knew about, and much less impressive after I compared them alongside the alleged prophecies and holy books produced by many other religious leaders. It is so easy for one viewpoint to look amazingly compelling when it is the only one we have seriously examined.

This observation has contributed to my current deep concern with religious disagreement, and desire to find some clear, objective criteria on which the truth or falsity of given religious claims can be adjudicated. The mere fact that a religious book and body of thought seems incredibly impressive and compelling to us is insufficient, when there are so many in other traditions who think that their revelations, their beliefs, and their holy books are likewise so uniquely compelling. We need to try to look at things from comparatively form multiple perspectives, and not merely from within the narrow framework of the one tradition we are comfortable and familiar with.

Changes to Temple Ordinances

Key point: certain Mormon temple ordinances have undergone significant changes since they were originally restored by Joseph Smith, contrary to the church’s own teachings that God’s ordinances cannot be altered.

A Note to Mormon Readers

In this section I do not discuss or reveal any details or aspects of the current endowment ceremony which endowed members have covenanted to keep sacred. I limit myself to general remarks, and go into details only in the case of certain elements of the ceremony that have now been removed. If even this makes you uncomfortable, skip this section.

Changes to the Endowment

All Mormons go to religious services at a chapel each Sunday, but those who are of age and deemed worthy are also encouraged to attend another set of worship services in a building called the temple. There, Mormons perform special ceremonies and ordinances, the most important of which is called the ‘endowment’. Most members experience the endowment ceremony as a combination of pre-recorded videos and live actions performed by those present. With a few small exceptions, the entirety of the ceremony, which lasts over an hour, is scripted, and thus is performed word-for-word identically on every occasion. This is relevant because this script has been changed in some important ways since the endowment was introduced. Aspects of the endowment which have been significantly altered include the following:

  • Penalties: the endowment used to contain penalties associated with revealing any of the sacred elements of the ceremony. These were removed in a 1990 revision of the ceremony.
  • Ministers as agents of Satan: the ceremony contained several scenes in which a protestant minister was portrayed as an agent of Satan. This was removed in the 1990 revision.
  • Wives obedience to husbands: women used to be required to promise to ‘observe and keep the law of your husbands, and abide by his counsel in righteousness’. In 1990 this was changed to ‘obey the Law of the Lord, and to hearken unto the counsel of her husband, as her husband hearkens unto the counsel of the Father’.
  • Oath of vengeance: beginning in the days of Brigham Young and lasting until around 1930, the endowment ceremony included an oath of vengeance for the murder of Joseph and Hyrum Smith. It read ‘you and each of you do covenant and promise that you will pray and never cease to pray to Almighty God to avenge the blood of the prophets upon this nation, and that you will teach the same to your children and to your children’s children unto the third and fourth generation’.
  • There have also been substantial changes to another ordinance called the initiatory. For more information on this see http://www.i4m.com/think/temples/temple_ordinance.htm

There is no question about these changes; they are not lies made up to discredit the church, as some Mormons tend to say of such things. More information can be found on the relevant wikipedia pages, and also on the FairMormon Mormon apologetics website.

Divine Ordinances Cannot be Changed

While Mormons and non-Mormons alike may be troubled by the content of these removed portions of the endowment, most troubling of all for me when I discovered this information was that it seemed to directly contradict the church’s teaching that God’s ordinances must be performed exactly in the specified manner and cannot be altered. This was one of the justifications of the need for a restored church in the first place, namely the argument that the original correct form of many ordinances like baptism had been lost and corrupted over time. As stated in the official church publication Teachings of the Presidents of the Church:

“Ordinances instituted in the heavens before the foundation of the world, in the priesthood, for the salvation of men, are not to be altered or changed.”

Likewise from the church magazine the Ensign:

“Through time and apostasy following Christ’s Resurrection and Ascension, however, the divine authority of the priesthood and the sacred ordinances were changed or lost, and the associated covenants were broken. The Lord revealed His displeasure over this situation in these words:“For they have strayed from mine ordinances, and have broken mine everlasting covenant;”

And from church General Conference:

“We explained briefly the Apostasy and the Restoration: that there is vast evidence and history of an apostasy from the doctrine taught by Jesus and his Apostles, that the organization of the original Church became corrupted, and sacred ordinances were changed to suit the convenience of men, and that today good people all over the world are confused with contending religions with differing doctrine and methods of worship.”

Apologetic Responses

Mormon apologists have claimed that there is a difference between changing the ordinances themselves, and changing some outward details of their presentation. This is certainly contrary to what I was always taught, that God’s ordinances must be performed exactly. It also seems contrary to teachings such as this:

“No jot, iota, or tittle of the temple rites is otherwise than uplifting and sanctifying. In every detail the endowment ceremony contributes to covenants of morality of life, consecration of person to high ideals, devotion to truth, patriotism to nation, and allegiance to God.”

According to this passage, every small detail of ordinances is important. Changes as substantial as removing entire portions of the endowment would thus surely be counted as ‘important’ details which contribute to the spiritual value of the ordinance, and thus presumably ought not to be changed. The church does not like to discuss these matters, and discourages members from speaking too openly about temple ordinances, even beyond the specific aspects that members promise not to reveal. As such, relatively few members (especially younger members) are aware of these facts. When I became aware of such things, my confidence in the church, though not completely undermined, was considerably shaken.

Lesson 3: Openness is essential

The main lesson I gained from learning about the changes to temple ordinances was the importance of openness to critical examination and discussion. The LDS church is notoriously sensitive to criticism, and very secretive about matters such as changes to the temple ordinances. I am not talking here about keeping certain aspects of the ordinances sacred; I’m talking about hiding from members the changes that have been made to key salvific ordinances (this also applies to various aspects of church history, but that’s another matter).

I do not believe that truth needs protecting, and were I to adopt another religion I would look for one which is open about its past and present activities, and which does not attempt to keep certain facts from its members or discourage them from thinking critically about such things. Any sign of resistance to critical open enquiry of this sort is thus very suspicious and off-putting to me. No true religion should feel the need to ‘protect’ its members from facts that they think may be unpleasant or may lead them to doubt.

Inaccurate Translation of the Book of Abraham

Key point: Joseph Smith claimed to translate the Book of Abraham from ancient Egyptian papyri. Some of these papyri have been discovered, and the translations provided by modern Egyptologists bear no resemblance to those given by Smith.

Background to the Book of Abraham

The Book of Mormon was not the only ancient record Joseph Smith claimed to have translated. In 1835, Joseph Smith acquired several ancient Egyptian papyri taken from some mummies that had been brought to America from Egypt several years earlier. At the time, Egyptian hieroglyphics had still not been deciphered, and owing to his famed translation abilities Smith was asked to attempt a translation. Smith examined the papyri and declared that they contained the writings of the ancient patriarch Abraham. He translated the papyri over the course of a few months, and the resulting work, the Book of Abraham, was published several years later and eventually canonised by the church in 1880. It now forms a key component of the Pearl of Great Price, one of the four canonical texts of the church.

Joseph Smith’s Inaccurate Translations

The original papyri owned by Joseph Smith were long thought to have been lost, but in 1966 several fragments were discovered in some university archives. It is unclear exactly what proportion of the original documents these fragments represent, however they do include large portions of one of the figures (called facsimiles) that are included in the Book of Abraham alongside the text (see here). Numerous professional Egyptologists have since examined these recovered fragments, and they are uniform in their assessment that their content bears no relation whatever to Smith’s translation. Essentially, the papyri are first century Egyptian funerary texts, and contain no mention of Abraham or any of the other doctrinal or historical elements contained in the Book of Abraham.

Apologetic Responses

When first I discovered these facts I was shocked and dismayed. This seemed to be a very clear disconfirmation of Joseph Smith’s ability to translate through divine assistance. I immediately sought out responses of Mormon apologists to see what they had to say on the matter. In preparing the present article, I discovered that just last year the church published a piece on its website discussing the translation of the Book of Abraham. The answers provided in this piece fall into two basic categories, and are essentially the same as those I read on Mormon apologetic sites when conducting my original research:

  • Since we have only recovered a fraction of the original papyri, we do not know whether the portions we have are the same as those Joseph Smith translated from, or what degree of overlap there may or may not be.
  • Joseph Smith may not necessarily have engaged in a literal textual translation of the papyri. I will quote from the lds.org essay on the subject, which articles this perspective quite succinctly: “Joseph’s study of the papyri may have led to a revelation about key events and teachings in the life of Abraham, much as he had earlier received a revelation about the life of Moses while studying the Bible. This view assumes a broader definition of the words translator and According to this view, Joseph’s translation was not a literal rendering of the papyri as a conventional translation would be. Rather, the physical artefacts provided an occasion for meditation, reflection, and revelation. They catalysed a process whereby God gave to Joseph Smith a revelation about the life of Abraham, even if that revelation did not directly correlate to the characters on the papyri”

My Reaction to the Responses

I never considered these responses to be very satisfactory. At the very least, we know that Joseph Smith did not translate facsimile 1 correctly, since we have recovered large portions of it, and if any inference can be made about the missing portions of the papyri, surely the most reasonable presumption would be that they would likely resemble in subject matter the portions that we do have, not that they would concern matters totally unrelated. As to the idea of a ‘non-literal translation’, once again this is not what I had always been taught. I was always told and read in church materials that the Book of Abraham, like the Book of Mormon, was a genuine translation of a real historical document.

There is no way we can know from historical investigation whether or not Joseph Smith received some sort of spiritual revelation catalysed by the papyri, however from my perspective the evidence fits far better with Joseph Smith having falsely believed in his divinely-inspired ability to translate, rather than God actually having inspired Joseph to write something that bore no relation to the document he thought he was translating, and then have highly misleading teachings about said document continuing to be taught throughout God’s true church. Like everything else, this alone is not completely definitive, but for me it was exceptionally compelling counterevidence against Joseph being a true prophet of God.

Lesson 4: Beliefs need to be testable

From my investigations of the Book of Abraham, and particularly upon discovering the ‘not a literal translation’ response, it became increasingly clear to me just how important it is that we have same method of testing or falsifying our beliefs. Not in some scientistic sense, but simply in the sense of being able to determine whether they are likely to be true or not. The ‘spiritual translation’ answer was so unsatisfactory to me precisely because there is no way to tell whether it is true or not, and can therefore be said of essentially any text from any religion. Thus, any religion which I joined now would to have at least some methods of testing out the truth of its claims, and not merely rely on completely untestable claims of spiritual revelation.

The Unreliability of Subjective Spiritual Evidence

Key point: Mormon doctrine places very heavy emphasis on personal spiritual witness as the prime method of learning the truth of the church, however the existence of many competing religion, as well as the findings of modern psychology, show that evidence of this sort is extremely unreliable.

Spiritual Witness in Mormonism

By far the single biggest reason why I accepted the truth of the Book of Mormon and the restored church is because of the validating ‘spiritual witness’ I believe I had received from God. Mormons believe this is by far the most important and most fundamental way one comes to a knowledge of the truth of the church, often appealing to a passage found in the Book of Mormon in Moroni 10:4, which reads:

“And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.”

Mormons and those investigating Mormonism are encouraged to read the Book of Mormon and pray sincerely to God to provide them with a spiritual witness of its truth. For many years, I believed that I had received such a witness, which I described as a powerful sensation of peace, comfort, and insight that I gained when reading and pondering the Book of Mormon. I believed that this was a witness from God telling me that the things I was reading and praying about were indeed true, that they were good, and that they were from God.

Cognitive Biases and Conflicting Experiences

During my period of reflection, however, I started to learn about human psychology. I found out about expectation bias (how our expectations enormously shape our perceptions), cognitive dissonance (how we use motivated reasoning to manage apparently conflicting beliefs), the availability heuristic (our tendency to misjudge the probability of events based on a few particularly vivid examples), post-purchase rationalization, pareidolia (seeing patters where none exist), and selection bias (distorting our view of something by the biased way in which examples are chosen). I learnt about a fascinating book called When Prophecy Fails, which documents how may end of the world cults continue to believe even after their predictions fail to come to. I learnt about the immense research documenting the fallibility of human memory, how every time we recall an event we reconstruct and potentially alter the memory, and how relatively easy it is to generate false memories.

Learning about these things, I began to see how they applied in so many ways to my own experience as a Mormon, and also to the way in which Mormons approach spiritual witnesses generally. When I prayed for spiritual confirmation, it was with a strong expectation that I would receive it, which greatly increased the chances that I would come to believe I had such an experience regardless of whether or not there was any true supernatural involvement. Pareidolia would help ensure that I interpreted a wide range of potential thoughts, feelings, and sensations as being consistent with a spiritual witness. The immense amount of time and energy I had put into the church throughout my life would lead to a significant amount of cognitive dissonance and post-purchase rationalisation effects if I were to fail to receive a witness, and thus I was much more likely to convince myself that I had received one. My memory of the spiritual experiences I had had, and those I had heard about from others, was likely altered over time and perhaps had changed significantly from the way events originally occurred.

I also became increasingly concerned about the variability of personal spiritual witnesses across different religions. I found examples of people from Islam, Catholicism, Buddhism, and Wicca, all who reported experiences and feelings which were broadly similar in form to those I had experienced, and those I had heard other Mormons witness about. I wondered how different people could receive genuine spiritual witnesses of conflicting spiritual truths. The more I thought about this, the more dissatisfied I became with simply believing that I was right and others were wrong. I could not find any rational basis for thinking my spiritual witness, or those of Mormons I knew, where more likely to be true than those experienced by people in other religions. This realisation, combined with my new knowledge of human psychology and our powers for self-deception, eventually led me to believe that the experiences and sensations I believe I had had were in fact the products of my own mind, and not the result of divine influence.

The Three and Eight Witnesses

It was a result of similar considerations that I came to believe that the testimonies of the three and the eight witnesses (groups of men who claimed to have seen the gold plates from which the book of Mormon was supposedly translated) were also not a reliable source of information. In the course of my research on the matter I came across this quote by Illinois governor Thomas Ford, who opined that the event of the witnessing of the plates may have proceeding something like this:

“The witnesses were ‘set to continual prayer and other spiritual exercises.’ Then at last ‘he (Joseph Smith) assembled them in a room, and produced a box, which he said contained the precious treasure. The lid was opened; the witnesses peeped into it, but making no discovery, for the box was empty, they said, “Brother Joseph, we do not see the plates.’ The prophet answered them, ‘O ye of little faith! how long will God bear with this wicked and perverse generation? Down on your knees, brethren,  every one of you, and pray God for the forgiveness of your sins ‘ The disciples dropped to their knees, and began to pray in the fervency of their spirit, supplicating God for more than two hours with fanatical earnestness; at the end of which time, looking again into the box, they were now persuaded that they saw the plates.”

I had no reason to believe that the details of this hypothetical account are correct, but it seemed to me that something like this was eminently plausible given what I now knew about human psychology. There were also some other problems with the witnesses which came to my attention, such that virtually all of them were either relatives or friends of Smith, and a number of whom had strong financial and social interests in the success of the church. Also, the witnesses did not give their own independent accounts of events, but merely signed a single document prepared for them, thus leaving us with no way to corroborate their separate accounts with each other, or see whether each of them experienced the same thing, rather than each having their own rather unique spiritual experience which they then misremembered and reconstructed upon later recall as being consistent with the written account. I also found out that a number of other prophets had their own groups of witnesses, including Solomon Spalding and Jesse Strang. I found out about the many sightings of the Virgin Mary, some of them very well documented and with a large number of witnesses (as a Mormon I did not believe in such apparitions). All in all, I was left far less impressed with the accounts of the witnesses than I had previously been.

Lack of Apologetic Responses

Searching for responses to these concerns from Mormon apologists, I could find almost nothing. It was almost as if Mormons had never even thought about such questions before, a notion which I found both bizzare and deeply discouraging. In the face of such evidence and in the absence of any real responses, I became extremely skeptical both of my own spiritual experiences, and of the reported and recollected experiences of others. I no longer considered them to be a reliable way of finding truth, or of determining the veracity of writings like the Book of Mormon.

Lesson 5: Subjective evidence is unreliable

My experience with Mormonism has taught me to be highly skeptical of any claims to divine or spiritual knowledge gained primarily on the basis of personal religious experience, sensations, or feelings. I do not believe that such things are a reliable way of finding truth, and as such any religion which I joined today, though it may have an important place for such experiences, would not elevate them to be the primary means of determining the truth of religious claims.

Bringing Things Together

Leaving Mormonism

By the end of my period of intensive study and reflection, I had come to the conclusion that Joseph Smith was probably not a divinely inspired prophet, and that the church he established was probably not God’s true church. I did not come to this conclusion on the basis of any single argument or piece of evidence, but as a result of multiple, largely separate considerations, the five major ones I have outlined here (there were many other lesser considerations as well, but I have omitted them to save space). No single discovery I made was enough to completely undermine my faith by itself, nor did any of them definitively and conclusively disprove the truth of Mormonism. Rather, it was a question of relative plausibility and explanatory power of different ways of interpreting the facts.

Becoming an Atheist

Having come to the conclusion that Mormonism was probably not a true religion, I found myself having little or no reason to continue believing in god. The main reasons why I had previously believed in God were as a result of my belief in the Book of Mormon, in the first vision of Joseph Smith, and also as a result of my own personal spiritual experiences. Having become convinced that all of these reasons for belief were mistaken or inadequate, I lacked any reason to continue believing in God. I thus began describing myself as an atheist or an agnostic, depending on the mood I was in – at present I prefer the term ‘weak atheist’.

Continued Searching

To this day I remain open to the possibility that my decision to leave Mormonism might have been incorrect, and that the Mormon church is in fact true, and that Joseph Smith is in fact a true prophet of God. For me to once again believe in this, however, I would need to find compelling answers to these five problems I have outlined here, as well as a number of other comparatively minor matters that I have not discussed here. To my continued disappointment, none of my Mormon friends or acquaintances were interested at the time, or have seemed interested since, to discuss these issues and concerns with me.

Since leaving Mormonism I have also continued to search for new reasons or arguments as to why I should believe in God, or adopt some religion other than Mormonism. As yet, I have not found reasons or arguments which I find sufficiently persuasive. Nonetheless, my ignorance and limitations remain immense, and so the search goes ever on. I am still only near the beginning of my journey

Lesson 6: We must compare worldviews holistically

Partly as a result of my experiences investigating various aspects of Mormonism, I have come to the view that it is essential to consider a body of evidence collectively, rather than merely examining each argument or fact in isolation. It is certainly important to look at details of each particular argument, but if this is all one does, it is very easy to get caught in the trap of ‘explaining away’ every possible counterargument or discrepancy within the framework of what we already believe. In this way, we never shift our beliefs, and we are not receptive to new evidence.

Instead, we need to make the effort to consciously take a step back and think ‘which perspective, which worldview is most consistent with the evidence as a whole? What is the most reasonable thing to believe that has the greatest chance of being true?’ This means making a genuine sincere effort to understand alternate viewpoints and interpretations, rather than just dismissing them point by point on each particular argument. We need to put on the goggles of those we disagree with, see through their eyes, and then switch back to our own goggles and consider which pair provided the better view of reality. This is not an easy thing to do, but I think that if we wish to maximise our changes of holding true beliefs, it is something we must regularly strive for.

Some Concluding Thoughts on Reason and Belief

Many Christians I know are very committed to their faith, believing very strongly in Jesus and his power in their lives. Nevertheless, I have found that many such persons are unable to answer many of my questions, objections, and criticisms. When I raise such matter, they tend to change the subject, fail to get back to me after saying they will, respond in ways that seem to portray an almost complete lack of understanding of my perspective, or sometimes even flat out say to me that they do not know how to respond. At the same time, such persons, seemingly without fail (although I guess I cannot know for sure) remain unwavering in their beliefs. Nothing I say seems to have much of any impact at all. Even in the very act of being unable to provide any cogent or relevant response to something I have said, they nevertheless maintain the same level of confident certainty that their beliefs are correct. I speak mostly of my Christian friends here (and some of them are among my very dearest friends), though I suspect similar remarks would apply to many of my Mormon friends as well, had I ever had any substantive conversations with them about such matters.

My reaction to this attitude is one of considerable incredulity. It’s not that I want to prove to these people that they are wrong or to get them to change their minds. Rather, it’s a matter of wanting to understand their reasons, and becoming frustrated and disappointed when they seem unable to articulate them. As far as I can see, weighing up and interpreting evidence and arguments is the way we try to distinguish truth from falsity. If we hold on tenaciously to a belief even in the face of objections to central aspects of that belief to which we have little or no idea how to respond, then we are in effect abdicating our role as searchers after truth. If we are right, we hope to be so by sheer luck, not because we have done all we can to cleave true from false beliefs and maximise our chances of holding to the true and rejecting the false.

I refuse to believe that God created us with an intellect only to have us forego its use, and instead wallow in confident certainty in the very face of our own admission (tacit or explicit) that we do not have the tools we need to discern whether our most dearly held beliefs are in fact likely to be true. This is a rejection of the paramount importance of truth, an abdication of our intellectual integrity, and, having given up truth as our guiding light, constitutes a surrender to the vicissitudes of chance and passion to control our destinies. Such a life is not the life I want to live, and I call upon everyone everywhere reject this form of passive slavery to falsity and unreason, and instead fight with all our might, with all our strength, and with all our souls, to find out what is true, and to live by those truths that we find, always with a confidence proportionate to the reasons we have for belief.

This does not mean that we will have all the answers – that would be absurd – but it does mean that we should always have sufficient answers to justify our current level of confidence in how we can know what we claim to know. If we cannot give such answers but nonetheless hold fast to our beliefs, then we are lying to ourselves, and (if he exists) we are lying to God too, for we are pretending to know things that we do not in fact know, or at least do not know with the level of confidence we claim. I am guilty of doing this; I think we all are at times. But that doesn’t make it right or good.

I urge all people everywhere to think more carefully, to learn more, to listen to alternate views, and generally to put more effort into finding and holding onto truth, and not merely the appearance or the feeling of truth. I have no interest in this counterfeit version – only the genuine article will satisfy. I hope that Christians, Mormons, Atheists, and everyone else will recognise their fundamental underlying unity as seekers of truth, and join together on this grand and noble quest to understand this vast and confusing world in which we all live.

Why Am I still not a Christian?: A Letter to my Christian Friends

Introduction

This post is both highly personal, and also quite generally applicable. It is personal in that my remarks derive from my experiences in talking and engaging with Christians over the past several years, many of whom I consider to be close personal friends whom I respect a great deal. It is general in the sense that I believe the key ideas apply much more broadly to a wide diversity of interactions and engagement between Atheists and Christians (as well as those of other religions). In keeping with the personal nature of this post, I shall henceforth use the second person (‘you’) in reference specifically to my Christian friends, though it can also be interpreted more broadly to apply to any Christian, and indeed (with certain appropriate modifications of content), also to any religious person.

The Question and Possible Answers

My key purpose for this post is for you to seriously consider the question: why aren’t I a Christian? Even after nearly five years of fairly intensive thinking, reading, discussing, and debating about these ideas, why have I nonetheless not been converted to Christianity? I can see four classes of possible answers to this question, and I shall examine each of them in turn:

  1. Because Christianity is in fact false, and hence the arguments and evidence in favour of it are lacking. Not surprisingly, this is the answer which I like to believe is most likely. Perhaps more importantly, it is the only reason for which I would want to hold my current beliefs about Christianity. That is, if this is in fact not the case, then I want to change my views. Needless to say, you do not believe that this option is the correct one, so let now consider the others.
  2. Because there exist arguments and evidences with which I am insufficiently familiar, or which I have not heard explained in a sufficiently convincing way, or misconceptions or misunderstandings that result in mental barriers or objections to my belief.
  3. Because, consciously or otherwise, I do not and have not engaged in this pursuit with sufficient sincerity and objectivity. My analysis of the evidence and arguments is excessively and overwhelmingly clouded by my own prejudices, desires, presuppositions, or otherwise, such that I am not properly receptive to the true strength of the evidences and reasons offered.
  4. Because conversion to Christianity is not ultimately determined by our own beliefs or arguments we have heard, but comes as a result of an act of God’s grace. There are two main subsidiary possibilities I can see here: a) God has reached out his grace to me in this way, but I have rejected and refused to accept it, b) God has not done so, as for his own reasons I am not one he has chosen to save (or at least not yet). If you believe in the doctrine of Irresistible Grace, then you will of course not believe that (4a) is a possibility.

You may of course be inclined to say that my lack of conversion results from a combination of the above factors, but personally I think most of the possibilities listed above make the others either impossible or redundant. So, for example, (2) and (3) could both be true, but in that case (3) seems largely beside the point if I am not engaging truly openly or honestly. Likewise, you may believe that reason alone is not sufficient, even if it is necessary for a strong conversion, in which case the question would become which of (2) and (4) you consider to be the main ‘limiting factor’, so to speak, in preventing my conversion to Christianity.

Four Possibilities in Depth

Here is where things get especially difficult, because it seems to me that whichever of (2), (3), or (4) you believe is the case, there are fairly negative implications.

Suppose you believe (2) is the main reason for my lack of conversion. If this is the case, then I must ask in total earnestness and sincerity why you do not make a greater effort to share these reasons or arguments or evidences with me? You may have done so to some extent, but if I still haven’t heard the most important reasons or the most persuasive articulation, or if I still hold objections or reservations based upon misunderstandings or misconceptions, why do you not point me to them and help me address them? I try to be very clear and upfront about my objections and reservations, and have written extensively about my views concerning such matters as arguments for God’s existence, the role of subjective religious experience, disagreement between Christians about important doctrines, my various key objections, the moral argument for God’s existence, the importance of reason in forming our beliefs, and I think most importantly, the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus. I honestly feel that I have raised numerous cogent arguments, doubts, and objections in these various pieces, and it is on this basis that I tend to believe that situation (1) in fact prevails. Though this applies more to some people than others, on the whole I feel that you have not engaged very extensively or carefully with most of my writings or objections, and if you believe that (2) is in fact the main reason for my lack of conversion, I really would appreciate it if you would do so, because (2) is not a situation I would like to be in. The negative implication here, as I see it, is that if you believe (2), then you believe that there are cogent, persuasive reasons of which I am unfamiliar, and responses to my objections which I have not heard, but which you have not told me, or not explained in a way that I can properly grasp.

Now let us turn our attention to possibility (3). If this is the main reason for my lack of conversion, the negative implication for me is fairly clear, since in this case I will not be properly receptive to any arguments or responses to my objections that anyone may raise. If you believe (3) is the case, I would truly appreciate it if you would be so open as to tell me so, and suggest ways I might be able to remedy this defect in my thinking. Perhaps there may be specific clear instances you can point to where my sincerity and objectivity has been clearly and substantially clouded (obviously none of us are ever going to be perfect in this respect, but its a matter of degree). Either way, I would greatly appreciate your assistance in extricating myself from (3), which truly would be a terrible situation for me to be in.

Even worse, arguably, than (3) is situation (4a), in which I have rejected God’s grace that he has offered to me (feel free to phrase this in a slightly different way if you disagree with my use of language here, its the underlying idea that I want to focus on). If (4a) is the main reason for my lack of conversion, then basically it seems that all is lost, at least for me. I’m fundamentally a bad person and just are unreceptive to the truth and light offered by God through his grace. There’s little or no question of changing my mind in the basis of reason or evidence, because its not a question of reason or evidence, just of being unreceptive to grace. If you believe that (4a) is the case, then you perhaps think that deep down I’m fundamentally not really a very good person. Maybe you have some way around this, I don’t know, but at least as I see it a good person doesn’t just reject a good God in this way. I know that you probably believe that no humans are ‘fundamentally good’, but if you believe that some people choose to accept God’s grace while others don’t, presumably that makes a meaningful difference in terms of what sort of person they are.

Lastly, let us consider possibility (4b). Maybe it is the case that I have the intellectual knowledge I would need to become a Christian, but nonetheless I have not yet received the outpouring of God’s grace, or spiritual witness from God, or whatever language one cares to use to describe this. This possibility is the one I find hardest to understand. If you believe that (4b) is the core reason I am not a Christian, then presumably you also believe that a major reason why you are a Christian is because you have been the recipient of such an act of grace, or spiritual witness, or whatever wording you prefer to use to describe the experience. If you do believe this, I guess I just find it very hard to understand why God would withhold such things from me. Doesn’t he want all of his children to enter into a relationship with him? Why would he extend his grace (etc) to you and not to me? I guess being God he can do whatever he wants, but still it kind of sucks for me (and those like me). Nor does it do any good to say that I still have misconceptions or mental barriers that prevent me being a recipient to God’s grace, because then we no longer think that (4b) is the main reason for my lack of conversion, but rather have reverted to options (2) or (3). The negative implication of (4b) is that there is effectively nothing either of us can do to change the situation. That said, however, I would still appreciate you telling me if you genuinely believe (4b) is the case. I would find it helpful to know.

Closing

So we have reached the end of the possibilities for why I have not converted to Christianity. As I have said, I don’t think any of them are especially positive, or free from negative implications. Nonetheless this matter does not go away merely because you or I fail to think about it or talk about it. You believe, I presume, that my eternal salvation is at stake in this question, and I believe that it may be at stake (because I might be wrong in believing (1)), so the stakes are high, and there is no time to waste. So what do you think? What is to be done? This question isn’t just for me; I think Christians everywhere should ask this of their non-believer friends, and seriously consider their answer. It is a matter none of us can afford to ignore, easy as that can often be to do.

Justifying Morality Without God: The Difference between Humans and Chickens

Synopsis

In this piece I discuss some comments made in this recent blog piece concerning the alleged inability of any atheistic worldview to provide a ‘rational basis’ for valuing moral life over chicken life. I argue that this piece fallaciously argues that because humans and chickens are comprised of the same fundamental substances, that therefore they must share the same moral value, explaining how this is an instance of the fallacy of composition. I then address the claim that atheism cannot provide a rational basis for human value, arguing that neither atheism nor theism can provide the sort of bootstrapping ‘value from reason alone’ that this piece seems to seek, and indeed that reason is simply not capable of doing so.

Animal Rights?

I wish to begin this piece by just very briefly remaking on this strange assertion found at the beginning of the article in question:

The other day I ate a chicken sandwich. The chicken was killed, dismembered and cooked and placed on a bread roll that I had for lunch. Yet there was no outcry, no police enquiry, and no news reports. Millions of people eat chicken every day and it is completely morally acceptable.

While I don’t doubt that there was no public outcry or policy enquiry, I am curious on what basis the author asserts that millions of people eating chicken every day is ‘completely morally acceptable’? I know a lot of philosophers and intelligent people generally who would not agree that eating chicken in this way is always ‘completely morally acceptable’. I myself do not eat chicken, in large part precisely because I do not find it ‘completely morally acceptable’. I will not defend this view here, I merely wish to raise the point to forestall others from doing so (and so distract the discussion from more central issues), and also to highlight that discussions of these sort involving morality and rationality are fraught with danger, given how much moral disagreement exists about even comparatively simple matters as eating chicken. What to one person is a totally innocuous act of no moral consequence to another is tantamount to murder (not that I think eating chicken is as bad as murder, but some people do). Enough on such things however. I will now move on to the meatier (haha) aspects of the article.

The Fallacy of Composition

“Now my question: in the atheist universe, why is cooking a human different to cooking a chicken? There appears no fundamental difference. A chicken is matter and energy and a human is matter and energy. Both are the same, neither has any intrinsic value. Hence it seems inconsistent and unjustified within an atheist system for there to be an outcry at the murder and cooking of human DNA.”

Let me attempt to paraphrase the argument I think is being made here in the following syllogism:

  1. A chicken and a human are both fundamentally comprised of matter and energy
  2. If two things are comprised of the same fundamental substance then they have the same moral value
  3. Therefore, chickens and humans have equivalent moral value

Premise 2 seems fairly obviously suspect. There is little reason to suppose that the fundamental substance out of which something is made is what determines its moral value. As Carl Sagan said of beauty, but which could equally well apply to moral value, “The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it, but the way those atoms are put together“. In particular, an atheist defending the greater moral value of humans compared to chickens could appeal to the greater human capacity for consciousness and self-awareness, their ability to experience higher forms of pain and pleasure, their greater potential for intellectual and social engagement with the world, and any number of other morally significant differences between humans and chickens. To put it another way, there is a vague collection of properties, the more of which are possessed by some entity, the more moral value it has. A rock has essentially none of these properties, a chicken has more, and a human has more still. The appeal to the face of being comprised of identical fundamental substances is of no clear relevance at all.

Indeed, this argument seems to be an instance of the fallacy of composition, in which it is falsely asserted that the whole must share the properties of its parts. For example, a puddle of water has a temperature and the property of being wet, but no individual water molecules of which the puddle is wholly comprised have such properties. Conversly, while the protons and electrons comprising the puddle are electrically charged, the puddle itself is electrically neutral. To give another example, in some random group of ten people, each person has a hair colour, but the group as a whole does not have a hair colour. Examples can be given ad nauseam. In this case, it is argued that because (in atheistic universe) humans are made up of nothing more than matter and energy, and because matter and energy of themselves have no moral value, therefore humans have no moral value. This is fallacious because, as illustrated previously, a whole need not share its properties with its parts. This is the fallacy of composition in action.

A Rational Basis for Morality?

“If a child is simply matter and energy, as are rocks, stars, chickens, computers and trees, there appears to be no rational basis for valuing human ‘matter and energy’ over chicken ‘matter and energy’. There appears no fundamental difference between cooking a human and cooking a chicken.”

Here I want to focus on the use of the phrase “no rational basis valuing human ‘matter and energy’”. I must admit it is not entirely clear to me what is meant by this. What is meant by ‘rational’ in this context? Does it mean that someone who was only interested in holding true beliefs about the external world would not come to value human matter and energy? If so, then I agree completely. I do not believe there is any such thing as value ‘built in’ (the word ‘intrinsic’ is often used, though I often find that more obfuscatory than enlightening) to the world, such that mere recognition of a fact necessitates some kind of attribution of value to something. Nor do I think this is a product of an atheistic universe – I think it is just as much a fact about any possible theistic universe as an atheistic universe.

For consider a hypothetical person who is fully rational, in the sense of caring only about holding true beliefs about the way things really are. Suppose such a person follows the evidence and arguments, and comes to the belief that God exists, and furthermore that God has given mankind various commandments and laws. Does it follow from any purely ‘rational basis’ that this hypothetical person should therefore value God’s commandments, or believe that they have a moral obligation to follow them? I contend that it does not. They have merely discovered a fact about what God commands, which by itself provides no ‘rational basis’ for valuing God’s commands. This idea is not mine; it is simply an application of Moore’s famous Open Question Argument.

An atheist most certainly can rationally defend human dignity and value. We, as individuals and as a society, care about the suffering, the joy, and the flourishing of self-aware, conscious, intelligent creatures such as humans (and possibly other species too, maybe even chickens, but let’s leave that aside for now). What’s that you say? What if our interlocutor claims not to care one wit about such things – what can we say then to convince them? The answer, of course, is nothing. Just as the theist has nothing to say to the person who claims to believe in God and his commandments, but feels no compunction or desire to follow them. ‘Rationality’ cannot bootstrap itself from nothing – it has to start somewhere. Just as the theist cannot give any deeper non-question begging reason deriving from rationality alone for why God ought to be obeyed or why his commands constitute moral laws, likewise the atheist can give no deeper non-question begging reason from rationality alone for why human life has value: the situations are symmetric.

The trouble here is not the dearth of reasons, but the desire to both reasons and rationality further then they can go. Rationality can get you from one belief to another without falling into falsity, but it cannot tell you what beliefs to start with, or in this case what things to ultimately care about. It is our mistake to expect that it would ever be capable of such a feat.