Posts Tagged ‘Problem of evil’


We put up our 1,000th post a couple of weeks ago. We’ve been looking through everything we’ve posted, and are now putting up “best of” lists in our most popular categories.

This is the seventh of our first-1,000 “best of” lists. We’ve already posted the Science Fiction, HumorMusicInterviews, Economics, and Addictions lists, and will shortly be putting up other “best ofs” in several other categories, including Politics,  Religion, Science, and Skepticism.

Best Atheist Posts


The crane collapse at the Grand Mosque in Mecca two days ago that killed 107 people and injured 238 was a tragedy for the victims and their families. It was the type of disaster that sets one to thinking “what if?” and “if only . . .” In this case, “If only there were some kind of omniscient, omnipotent, loving entity that could have foreseen and prevented this disaster . . .” If only.

But wait! It was a disaster, but it wasn’t a disaster! A report in The Independent quotes Dr. Hojjat Ramzy, “an imam and director of the Oxford Islamic Information Centre,” as saying that he was “very saddened” by the deaths and injuries, but that he also wanted “to congratulate those people who lost their lives for going straight to heaven without any question.”

Oh. That clears up everything. Except perhaps why Ramzy was “very saddened” if the victims were “going straight to heaven.”

Ramzy adds, “This is [a] great honour from God that every one wishes for but not many will be granted.”

Really? Everyone? At this very moment I can think of at least one blogger pounding away at his keyboard who would happily forego that “great honour.”

 


Disbelief 101: A Young Person's Guide to Atheism
Excerpted from Disbelief 101: A Young Person’s Guide to Atheism, by S.C. Hitchcock

 

Some religious people, who are dismissive of science, think that the existence of god or a spirit world can be proved through the feelings they get when they pray. “God is love,” they will say. “I have evidence for him because I can feel him.” (I wonder what would happen if I said I “believed” in evolution because I could feel the power of the gene.)

This leads to an odd argument. “Prove to me you love your wife,” a religious person might say to me, “show me evidence for love. You can’t, because the evidence is not something that can be examined.”

Sure it can. If I were to sit here and “love” a beautiful movie starlet, that would not be love, but infatuation. Sure, I’d have a feeling, but I’d have no evidence that I love her (and vice versa), and the fact that we’ve had no contact would confirm this. Love is defined through actions, as is heroism, as is cruelty. Actions define emotions.

I can’t say, for example, that I love my wife and then, if she got cancer, walk out on her. Clearly, my action would be evidence that I didn’t love her. I can’t say that I love my son and then fail to take care of him. My wife and I show our love for our son every time we feed him, cuddle him, play with him, change him, or get up in the middle of the night with him.

Someone who acts kindly toward everyone can’t be described as cruel. Cruelty is not a thing; it is a description of action. You can’t be a hero without having done something heroic. To be a genius is to have produced a work of genius.

So I do have evidence that my wife loves me. If I didn’t have evidence of it, if we didn’t show each other love every day through action, then it would be silly for me to claim that we are in love.

Certainly I have an inner warm feeling for my wife and son, but I don’t need to think that it’s spiritual in order to enjoy it. Evolution explains these feelings easily. Indivi-duals who have strong attachments to their mates and offspring are more likely to successfully raise children to the point where their children can reproduce, thus passing on the genes for strong attachments. Of course, relationships aren’t that simple, and what kind of upbringing a child has plays a huge part in its development; but there is no reason for me to think that any of my emotions come from some spirit world.

I have no doubt that people feel something when they pray or when they go to church. It doesn’t follow, however, that that feeling verifies the existence of some loving, all-powerful, invisible god that funnels people’s souls into heaven or hell and reads billions of minds simultaneously. When people feel similar emotions at movies, sporting events, or rock concerts they don’t attribute their emotions to a divine power. Praying may make you feel better if a loved one is sick, but so might taking a jog or a soak in a hot tub—and neither prove the existence of god or the devil.

So let’s continue with this idea and stretch it a little beyond its starting point in this chapter. I hear over and over again that god is love. That he’s a loving god.

What?!

Emotions and human characteristics are defined through actions. Einstein was a genius because he did genius-type things. Hitler was evil because he did evil things. Etc., etc. We define people by their actions or non-actions, and we should define our gods in the same way.

How can god or Allah be loving if he either A. actively causes horrible things to happen to people, or B. allows horrible things to happen. This question actually predates the Christian-Islamic god. The Greek Epicurus famously put it like this:

Is god willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is impotent.
Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him god?

God should be defined through his actions, shouldn’t he? Here we have a problem that religious people have never adequately resolved. If god is both good and all powerful, then why do bad things happen?

Religious people resort to all kinds of mental acrobatics to answer this question. Evil is the absence of god, some say. But how is that possible? God, being all-powerful, must have made a decision to remove himself and allow evil to happen. This brings up a real head-scratcher: How could an omnipresent god remove himself from anything? In other words, how could an omnipresent god not be omnipresent?

Evil is the creation of the devil. How does this absolve god? He created the devil, and he must have known what the devil would do.

Humanity lives in a fallen world. God created us in a perfect garden, and Adam and Eve chose to eat from “the tree of knowledge”; and all humanity is paying for their sins. What in the hell is this? There was no Garden of Eden to begin with, and even if we accept the bizarre proposition that there was, then god must have known that Adam and Eve would eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge, which meant that he must have wanted them to fall so that he could punish humanity for all eternity. Talk about sick . . . And by the way, what kind of god would punish all women with painful childbirth because of Eve’s supposed sin? Are women who accept pain-relieving drugs in a hospital making god mad because they are relieving some of the pain caused by the curse he put on Eve and all women in Genesis 3:16?

Let’s accept, for a second, the insane idea that each individual human being is created by god. Then explain children who are born with birth defects so severe that they are unaware of their surroundings. Why does god create children with cleft palates and place them in cultures where he knows they will be shunned? Why does god allow children to be born into war zones where he must know they will be blown apart by bombs or land mines? Why does god allow some children to be born with their organs outside of their bodies so that what little life they have is spent in extreme pain?

For that matter, why doesn’t god intervene when earthquakes bring the walls of buildings down onto children? Why do tornadoes crush people in the middle of the night? Why doesn’t god step in on the occasions when a little girl is abducted, tortured, and murdered?

To the religious, there are only two answers to these questions. The first is “god works in mysterious ways.” What this really means is that the religious person uttering this cliché has no good explanation and will not even attempt to provide one. The second answer is outright sickening: “god is testing our faith.” This answer shows the self-centeredness of the religious person. Everything that happens in the world revolves around the believer and his or her faith. Everything is a test or a lesson from god. (As Nietzsche put it in The Anti-Christ: “‘Salvation of the soul’—in plain words, ‘the world revolves around me.’”)

If this is true, if god allows evil in the world only to test people’s faith, then the almighty is not a loving god but a sociopath. What is he doing, anyway? Is he sitting up in heaven allowing children to be killed, sold into prostitution, wither away from AIDS, or be gutted with machetes just to play some sick game? Is he saying, “Will you love me now? Will you still believe in me after this?” Or, “What if I let the devil do this? Will you still have faith in me?”

This is why prayer for a sick loved one, far from being a harmless act, is actually repulsive. Why grovel before the very entity that is torturing (or standing idly by despite having the power to help) the person you care about? What does that say about the person doing the praying?

And, again, don’t tell me that god’s ways are mysterious and beyond our understanding. That’s garbage and a non-argument. I wouldn’t back out of a debate on evolution by saying that evolutionary theory works in mysterious ways.

If this is your god, then his actions or lack of action describe a petty tyrant, a sick bastard who shovels souls into bodies without regard for fairness, love, or happiness. He’s a god who must enjoy all of the suffering in the world—otherwise it would not be here.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t exist.

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Let’s get back to the idea that fuzzy, warm feelings (when praying, etc.) are evidence for god’s existence. The fact of the matter is that evolutionary theory easily explains emotions. Take the strong love that parents feel for their children. How can this be explained? Well, it’s simple. In animals whose offspring have quite a bit of growing up to do outside of the mother’s womb, like elephants, humans, apes, birds, and cats, there is always evidence of parental love. In animals where the offspring come out of the womb “ready to go,” as in fish or snakes, the evidence of parental love is absent.

I watched a nature show a few years ago where a baboon grabbed hold of a baby gazelle and was planning to run off with the baby gazelle and eat her. Fortunately for the baby, the gazelle’s mother was having none of it. She used her horns to ram the confused-looking baboon until he dropped the gazelle’s baby and ran off. (It was hard not to root for the gazelle.

However, I learned the folly of this while watching another nature show where I was rooting for a group of sea lions as they swam through shark-infested waters. It was only a few minutes later that I realized by pulling for the sea lions to escape the Great Whites I was actually rooting against the penguins that the sea lions, having survived the sharks, so gleefully gobbled up. By rooting for the gazelle/mother I was actually rooting against the baboon’s probably equally cuddly babies.)

Anyway, the mother’s impulse to protect her offspring is at first surprising. Why would she risk herself to save her baby? Well, try to imagine what would have happened to the baby if the mother had no protective impulse. The baby gazelle would have been eaten, and the uncaring genes that his mother would have passed on to him would have been gone. In fact, the mother who loved her baby protected him, and those genes that caused her protective instincts survived (in the form of her baby).

The same is true in humans. Imagine what would have happen to a Stone Age infant if her parents didn’t love her. Those parents would simply have her on the ground and their uncaring genes would have died with her. In fact, the genes for creating parental love had to have been present at every stage of pre-human and human development. Love, in fact, is observed among all of our monkey and ape cousins. No wonder the feeling is so powerful.

But it’s not mysterious. Sometimes I actually hear religious believers say, “I can’t explain my belief. It’s like trying to tell your parents why you’ve fallen in love with someone who is all wrong for you. Logic doesn’t apply.” Sorry, but no; believing in god is not like falling in love with someone with whom you’re mismatched. The person with whom you’ve fallen in love, flawed as he or she may be, actually exists. See what happens if you tell mom that you’ve fallen in love with the archangel Gabriel and that you plan to marry.

Please don’t think that it degrades our emotions to explain them naturally. It doesn’t. I love my son and wife fiercely, and that love is not in the least lessened because I realize the emotion has a biological and naturally ex-plained basis. It is entirely possible, even likely, that parental love is the most powerful feeling in the universe and probably one of the most important things we would have in common with complex alien life forms (if we could contact them). That’s a beautiful thing. As for me, I’m just glad to be here, and not to be a fish.

A Theodicy Odyssey

Posted: January 15, 2015 in Christianity, Philosophy, Religion
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by Stephen Van Eck

(This is a slightly edited version of Stephen’s piece in the current The Moral Atheist.)

One of the all-time philosophic quandaries has been, Why does God permit bad things to happen? Attempted answers are subsumed under the term theodicy. To this persistent question, the best answer philosophers can give is, God permits evil because we’ve been given the essential gift of free will. God will not compel us to love or serve him–such would not be genuine love–and this realm of freedom necessarily allows for it to be abused, for evil to occur. It is this explanation that theistic apologists, lacking anything better, have borrowed.

It sounds good, but there’s a major problem here. After the 9/11 attacks, Jerry Falwell blamed it not on the Muslim terrorists, but on Americans: namely, homosexuals, abortion advocates, feminists, secularists, pagans–in a word, liberals. (And “Pat” Robertson concurred.) God, Falwell claimed, was offended by these malefactors and withdrew his protection from America, letting it happen. In other words, he could have prevented these attacks from occurring, but he got in a snit and refused to.

This is nothing new. Puritans have always warned us that we risk God withdrawing his protection due to our sins. And the Jewish prophets spin-doctored their periodic national calamities by claiming that the Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians and Hellenistic Syrians were agents of God’s wrath against an Israel that offended his exacting standards. (Why not the Nazis as agents of God while you’re at it?) This “reasoning” would also make jihadists of a presumably false religion into God’s agents, a notion they themselves would wholly endorse. Strange bedfellows!

But not only does this limn a perfectly rotten supreme being, it totally undermines the free will explanation of why colossally bad things happen; for if God can be said to ever protect or aid us, when this does not occur when it should, the free will argument cannot possibly explain it. If he sometimes intervenes and sometimes doesn’t, depending on his mood, petulance is the explanation. And who needs a god like that?

A supreme being who allows us total freedom (with responsibility to match) cannot be used by theists to excuse a God whose criteria for intervention cannot be plumbed by mortal man. So 9/11 and the Holocaust don’t move God to action, but Joe Blow’s prayers to win a high school football game do? Really now. The Judeo-Christian concept of a supreme being is deficient, childish, inconsistent, and superstitious. No god at all is preferable to a bad one.

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Blogger’s Note: Stephen only mentions them obliquely, but some evils are so obviously visited upon innocents (e.g., the suffering and death of children from disease or starvation), that theists normally don’t even attempt to use the free will argument to explain them. Instead, they hide behind the stock phrase, “God moves in mysterious ways.” This is simply a weaselly way of saying, “I don’t have anything even approaching a rational explanation. Please accept this empty bromide in place of one.”


MYSTERIOUS, adj. A term much favored by religious apologists, as in, “God moves in mysterious ways.” This, however, is a much-abridged version of the aphorism. In full, it reads, “God moves in mysterious ways, much as a wildly hacking, blind swordsman moves through a kindergarten class.”

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–from the revised and expanded edition of The American Heretic’s Dictionary, the best modern successor to Ambrose Bierce’s Devil’s Dictionary


God, Wanted Poster

(from the e-book May the Farce be with You, by Pamela Sutter)

Dogspell

Posted: September 9, 2013 in Christianity, Humor, Religion
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junglecover1

(Earl Lee was the author of Libraries in the Age of Mediocrity, the satirical novel Raptured, and the foreword to The Jungle: The Uncensored Original Edition.  See Sharp Press will publish Earl’s final book, the time travel/alternate history novel The Unkindness of Ravens, in April 2016.)\

by Earl Lee

A new book recently came across my desk, called Dogspell: The Gospel According to Dog.  At first I thought maybe Dogspell was a new version of the musical Godspell, but using barking dogs — kind of like the Christmas music CDs put out by “Jingle Dogs” or the even more annoying “Jingle Cats” music CDs, where a group of cats meow out Christmas classics like “Here Comes Santa Claws” or “Meowy Christmas.”

As it turns out Dogspell is a book that wants to guide Christians to a better understanding their relationship with God. According to the publisher, the author “uses [the] metaphor of [a] dog’s unconditional devotion to its human and the joy it finds in [this] relationship….”

This idea is disturbing in so many ways:

Can this be the spiritual goal of most Christians — to view the universe on all fours while sniffing the crotch of God?  And think of all the theological questions it raises.  Is it appropriate to hump God’s leg only on Sundays? Or Saturdays? Or should this be a daily ritual?

And then there is the question of Evil. How can we address the fact that I have fleas? Why doesn’t God do something about this? Get me a flea-collar!  Buy some flea powder!  Please, God, do something to clean up all these horrible problems in the world.

I love my neighbor. So can I ask God to send the city’s Mobile Spaying Unit to my neighbor’s house and “fix” them all? (Just my idea for cleaning up the local gene pool.)

What if it turns out that my God is violent and brutal, and he beats the hell out of me with a 2×4 and sells me out to dogfights, like Michael Vick? Am I still expected to lick his hand?

Why is it that people look up to the sky, searching for some invisible master, and abase themselves like dumb animals?

What is it about this idea that makes me want to lie down and lick my own ass, just to get the taste of this out of my mouth? Oops, I can’t reach. A little help here!

The religious never cease to amaze. Sometimes their weird ideas are pretty funny. Other times their violence and senseless bigotry are downright shocking. From female circumcision to abortion clinic bombings, these people are seriously disturbed. Maybe they’re trying to work out overwhelming feelings of worthlessness? At least that would explain the self-identification with dogs.

And their ideas and practices are truly crazy. Ritual cannibalism on Sundays. Confessing one’s “sins” to a pedophile in a dress. Not using birth control. Praying in front of candles and statues. Wishing for miracles. Denying dying children medical care. Then they accept whatever crazy shit the preacher tells them, and reject the evidence of their own eyes.

I know of a Baptist preacher in our town (pop. 18,000) who has a congregation of only 25 people.  Every Sunday (and Wednesday and Friday) he subjects them to 2 hours of yelling and personal abuse (I am not exaggerating).  Why do they put up with this jerk!  And worse yet, a few months ago he emptied the church bank account and left town. And some church members still want him to come back!  How sick is that?

I guess it does all comes back to the self-identification with dogs: Here boy! Good boy! Kill that unbeliever! Roll over for your heavenly daddy!

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This post originally appeared in Earl’s blog < http://librariesintheageofmediocrity.blogspot.com/ >.