Call me, Davey?

Thringitty, Thrangitty, Throng!

I know that I just met you all, and forgive me if this sounds crazy, but here's my most recent blog post. So comment on it, maybe?

David Mayeux, my new bone ami, is the sin-sational blogger extraordinary over at Our Lady of Ashes. Go check out his thoughtful thoughts, and give him some feedback.

As I'm sure you all know (you damn well better know), I've devoted my last two posts to some of the comments he left here, and will now deal with his longer treatment of my dopey, doltish idears. (Hello? Fishin' for compliments here, people. My ego ain't gonna feed itself.)


As you can see from the clicky links above, Mayeux has besmirched my honor, and I aims to unsmirch it or resmirch it. I might even try to smirch him back. Or smooch him, if he's up for it. Not sure how a self-described "shameless Catholic" feels about such things.

He took no time in response, but I'm feigning nonchalance, so it took a while for me to compose this post. He gave me a lot to work with, but now he's in my way. Since his post was so long, I obviously can't re-post the whole thing here. But I've quoted what I take to be his most salient points, put them in bold, and set them off from the rest of the text. If you're having trouble figuring out who's who, just remember, he's the smart one.

I. Grace and Revelation and Stuff

Attempting to rescue his God from being seen for the erratic, haphazard, and capricious prissy-pants that he is, Mayeux clarified a point he'd made before by saying

This is more a matter of my blindness to the limitations of my own paradigm (see below) and thus a imprecise and erroneous use of language. It should have simply been "revelation from that God to humanity (which has been preserved and codified by the Church) and the individual (who, once accepting of that revelation can be called 'believer')" God's grace is not offered capriciously--at least as long as you're not a Calvinist--but universally to all humanity" (sic). 

All right, stop. Broken record time! My first problemy-type thing with this is the same problem I've had with Kreeft and Tacelli so far, and it's the same problem I've had with some of what Mayeux has said before. Once again, the very God we're arguing about (the one I'm trying to understand and figure out whether or not I believe in) is assumed, presupposed from the get-go, all without argument or justification.

Millions have asked me about this, so I suppose I'll address it now, once and for all. You wanna know why this bothers me so much, aside from the fact that it's just so dad-gummed annoyingly, predictably, boringly ubiquitous among theists?

Here's the thing: Currently, I'm an atheist. Granted, the whole point of this blog is to question and challenge my atheism to the best of my severely limited capabilities, and I have no idea where I'll end up by the end of this process. But my atheism is a (tentative, provisional) conclusion, based on the arguments and evidence for and against God's existence which I've encountered up to this point. My atheism is not the starting point of any particular argument. It is not an assumption I make when formulating or defending a particular argument or piece of evidence.

If you're a theist (who has had the misfortune of encountering this blog), how would you feel if every time I discussed the arguments for and against God's existence I assumed or asserted outright that God doesn't exist? What would you think if I spoke of God as if it were just patently obvious that he didn't exist? Would you think I was being genuinely open-minded? Would you see any point in discussing God with me? Do you think you'd have even the slightest chance of convincing me I was wrong?

So, theists, my dear friends, until there is slam-dunk evidencey, proofy-type stuff that God is like totes for realz, please stop speaking of God as if the question were settled. It beleaguers all the rest of us. Exasperates even. And it's unattractive for such sexy little devils as yourselves. You're better than this. Get outside your own beliefs and worldviews for a second, and see the world from someone else's perspective. Here, try on these trendy new atheist specs. Not too bad, eh?

Okay, enough of that. Ere'body ready to move on? Me, too.

Secondly, how do we know this revelation is indeed definitely and genuinely from God? Even if we could prove that (which we can't, by the way), how do we know this divine revelation "has been preserved and codified by the Church" accurately?  From what I understand, there are no known "original copies" of the various books of the Bible, and we have several documented cases of both intentional and accidental alterations made to the copies we do have, along with several works of scripture which are known to be forgeries. Even if we had such "original" copies, it wouldn't prove anything. I mean, has anyone ever compared our copy to God's copy?

Problem number three: Why must we rely on others for God's revelation? Why do I have to trust that some other guys got the story right? For Jeebus' sake, these guys wrote thousands of years ago! I/we have no access to them, their sources, or any way to determine their reliability. And keep in mind, this was in a time of rampant superstition, long before the development of rigorous logic or the scientific method, long before skepticism about extraordinary claims was made all cool and sexyfied. Given this tremendous cluster-fudge of our inability to verify the historical...umm veracity?..of the events reported in the Bible (the revelation in question), why doesn't God simply reveal himself directly to every human being, in a manner that is clear and unambiguous? (And don't try to pull the whole "God loves our free-will too much to do such a thing" gambit either. Not gonna fall for it. God violates free-will all over the place in the Bible.)

Fourthly, and most importantly, Mayeux's reiteration of what he meant to say before doesn't get God off the hook. Mayeux says God's grace is offered "universally to all humanity" and is, therefore, not capricious. But my original contention had to do with God's seemingly erratic, haphazard, and capricious behavior, vis a vis selective, discriminatory, perhaps even persnickety revelation. Why does God reveal himself directly to some, not at all to others? If it's true that God wants everyone to believe in him and love him and live in communion with him, and if direct revelation from God is the bestest, most sure-fire way to soften the hard hearts of atheists, and if (as many Christians believe, though I don't know if this is Mayeux's position) atheists will be eternally damned to hell for our lack of belief, then why doesn't God reveal himself to (at least) all atheists?

For some peeps, belief in God comes easy. Many people never question or doubt what they were raised to believe. They are comfortable taking things on faith. Assuming for a moment that these people are (just by accident) correct in their beliefs, perhaps direct revelation isn't necessary. But many of us are doubters, skeptics, and atheists. We may be mistaken in our godlessness, but the point is that we value reason, evidence, and the scientific method. If the standards of evidence can't be met in demonstrating God's existence (and again, still under the assumption that God does indeed exist), then wouldn't it make sense for God to give us atheists a direct revelation, rather than forcing us (square peg, round hole style) to take someone else's word for it? If God is the kind of guy described in the Bible and by many theists (as described above) then it would be a win-win for all involved, and God wouldn't lose anything in the process. Check and mate!

God, if you're listening to my thoughts or reading them here on the blog, could you maybe, please, at the very least, just like not send all of us atheists to eternal torment in the fiery pit of Hades, for simply not believing something we don't have good evidence or reason to believe? That would be super nice. K, thanks, bai! Love you and kisses and all.

All of humanity however, due to the effects of original sin (again talking from my theist viewpoint), is now imperfect in its ability to apprehend or comprehend that grace--we are wandering in what St Bernard of Clairvaux called "the land of unlikeness." So God revealed and restored the possibility of this apprehension through historical acts in the teachings of the prophets and in the life, actions and teachings of the God-man, Jesus Christ (or if you want to be more non-Christian specific through the teachings of world religions), and then subsequently through the Traditions and Sacraments of the Church where Christ remains present. (Shamelessly Catholic, I am).

I don't wish to make a big deal of this, but when Christians bring up original sin, especially since there is such a broad spectrum of ideas on the interpretation therewith, I can't help wondering if this is intended to be taken literally or metaphorically. If it is to be understood literally, it's kinda redonkulous. I mean, come on. Talking snakes? Omnipotent beings getting all bent out of shape over some fruit? People being punished for doing wrong when they had no concept of right or wrong? What is the likelihood that any of this actually happened? And if you can believe these stories, why do you dismiss the myths of other religions?

If it's meant to be taken metaphorically, it kinda makes Jesus' death a wee bit pointless. If there was no literal original sin, we don't need any atoning death for our salvation. There would be nothing to wash in the blood of the lamb. Surely these sophisticated, nuanced Christians don't want to interpret this story in such a way that means Jesus died for naught. Or do they? (Insert ominous music here.)

I'd feel remiss if I didn't point out that this idea of God having to take the form of a human being in order to suffer and die so that our sins could be forgiven...ahem, by God...is a bit bizarre. Doesn't it strike you as the obvious fictional creation and embellishment of early humans, enthralled by their superstitious, magical thinking, based on their ancient and ignorant (in the very best sense of the word) views of the world and humanity? If God really exists and can create whole universes by simply speaking them into existence, why does he have to jump through such silly and elaborate hoops in order to forgive us? Why can't he just say, in an appropriately sonorous intonation, "Ye art forgiven!" and be done with it? What's with all the blood and the bleeding and the blood-drinking?

Also, how exactly does sin make us incapable of apprehending and/or comprehending God's grace? I don't see any logical connection here. The one doesn't seem to logically entail the other in any conceivable way. It seems to me perfectly acceptable for someone to be able to fully understand God's grace and still decide to reject it for some reason. It's not that difficult of a concept to grasp. Even I get it, and you all know how dumb I am.

As I briefly intimated above, there is much in the Bible that we can't verify to any significant degree of reliability. So the supposed restoration of our ability to apprehend God's grace through the acts and teachings of Jesus and the prophets has little or no value here. We simply don't know that these events (especially the far-out, supernatural, magical-miraculous events) really occurred. But even if they did, once you open the door to supernatural explanations, all bets are off. Any supernatural being imaginable could be the cause of such events.

And the teachings of Jesus and the prophets are not nearly as extraordinary as Christians make them out to be. Many of these teachings are simply the kinds of things ethical teachers have been saying throughout human history, which Mayeux tacitly admits when he references the "non-Christian specific" examples from other religions.

(At the end of his section dealing with the fickle and unpredictable God, Mayeux cites his attempt to define faith in a comment on one of my previous posts. I have since dealt with his definition of faith here.)

II. Paradigms and Worldviews and Whatnot

Next, Mayeux turns to my previous question about what the discussion between theists and atheists ought to look like, given the fact that we atheists want proof of the existence of God and Mayeux thinks (or at least thought) such proof cannot be provided. He has a rather lengthy discussion of paradigm shifts (using the various ways in which philosophers and scientists have conceived of motion from Aristotle to Einstein as an example/analogy) and basically concludes that atheists and theists are speaking past one another, wedded as they are to such distinctly different worldviews. As he puts it:

I would argue that when it comes to the atheist/skeptic/theist trialogue, the individuals are thinking and speaking from completely different viewpoints as to the nature of the universe itself and end up talking past one another, even as they're speaking about the same ideas. You asked, good Reverend, how I then imagine some sort of meaningful dialogue to be exchanged between such groups if I find their mindset to be so different as to be almost meaningless when talking about matters of faith. Well, I would say that though the Aristotelian sees the rock coming to rest in fulfillment of its telos, and the Einsteinian sees the rock following the curve of space-time, I think both of them could agree that the rock can be used to build bridges or homes for wayward children.

It's hard to look right at this analogy. While philosophers and scientists from Aristotle to Einstein may disagree over the physical laws governing the movement of rocks, they all agree that rocks exist. This is not even close to being true for theists and atheists. Sure, theists and atheists may come together to work on ethical issues they agree on, which is imperative, beautifurous, and momentously worthwhile. But this is so tangential to the issue of debating God's existence as to be completely irrelevant in the context of this particular discussion.

That said, I think some of what Mayeux says here is quite insightful, though perhaps not for the reasons he intended.

Many of us atheists have indeed already undergone a major paradigm shift of our own. We've traded belief in a soul (that can survive beyond our physical, bodily deaths) for a wish to make this life the best it possibly can be. We've made the transition from a supernatural worldview (which was upheld in ancient times by superstitious people who had no ability or inclination to seek naturalistic explanations) to a natural worldview (which began with the pre-Socratics, got hyper-accelerated during the Enlightenment, and keeps on trucking today, with its reliance on logical and empirical investigation and an insistence on naturalistic explanations whether or not supernatural realms exist). Those of us who used to believe in God operated under that old paradigm, loved it, and understood it as well as anyone else. Yet, when challenges arose, we honestly considered those challenges and ended up rejecting the supernatural/theistic paradigm and embracing the naturalistic/atheistic paradigm based on reason and evidence.

In science, as in everyday life, much of the denial, negation, and refusal to accept a new paradigm is based on narrow-mindedness, confirmation bias, vested interests, an inability to truly engage in critical thinking, etc. Obviously, not every paradigm deserves to be overthrown. For example, many conspiracy theorists try to tear down established explanations for remarkable historic events by disingenuously, actively searching for anomalies in the record. And of course, in many cases, the evidence doesn't clearly point to any one particular conclusion, thereby leaving intelligent, rational, open-minded, honest people with lots of room for debate and discussion.

But to apply all of this to the theistic/atheistic debate, it seems to me (from my perfectly objective, unbiased perspective) that atheists are in the position of the vanguard scientists who accept necessary paradigm shifts based on the most reasonable assessment of the available evidence. We've thrown wishes for the divine into a well, but come up empty-handed. So we dedicate ourselves to the proper understanding and application of critical thinking. We try to understand the psychology of belief in order to be aware of our own biases, which mitigates their influence (at least a little; maybe; probably not, but at least we're aware of them). We are noble and steadfast in our attempt to read the very best work of the other side. Not to put too fine a point on it, but we are the sexy, charming, humble, intelligent, tolerant, good guys with ripped jeans and skin-a-showing.

Contrast this with our theistic counterparts, who are stuck in the mud of the old paradigm, again from my perspective, which is as impartial as anyone could possibly be. Theists can frequently be found making up ad hoc explanations for all the anomalies that continually pose threats to their cherished beliefs. They prefer cheap emotional appeals and obviously fallacious reasoning, such as gross stereotyping and hasty generalizations. Their cheesiness is matched only by their ability to force the cutesy lyrics of corny contemporary pop-songs into their own sappy bromides and syrup-laden sentimental inspirational writing. They pride themselves on reading only the sacred texts of their particular religion, or at best, apologetic literature that confirms their preconceived conclusions. It's nothing to be ashamed of, but theists are categorically, universally foul, humorless, loathsome, irrational, intolerant, villains who beg, borrow, and steal to salvage belief in an indefensible God.

Since my question about what a meaningful dialogue between theists and atheists provided so much food for thought, allow me to pose another million dollar question to my new BFF/boo: In the debate over the existence of God, how do we determine who is correct?

III. Spiritual Maturity and Douchebaggery and Fin

In his original comment, (which inspired this post), Mayeux spoke eloquently about how spiritual maturity entails having a personal relationship with God. But I was all, "Ooh, look at me! I'm so open-minded!" and "I'm a Mr.Schmarty-Pants!" and "Evidence or STFU!" and "Spiritual maturity is for losers! Nana nana nyaaa-nyaaa!" Mayeux, equally respectfully, had this to say: 

This is not a comment, but a question: what's the purpose, then, of proving or disproving God's existence? Say you were to prove God's existence--either universally or just within a reasonable doubt within your own perspective--in your spiritual quest (which I really pray you do--hope springs eternal), what would you then do with that knowledge if not then figure out the relationship between yourself and God who created you?

Oh, deary me. What sort of imbroglio have I imbrogled myself in this time?

It seems that Mayeux has caught me in a snare of my own devising. On the one hand, I claim to be genuinely investigating whether or not God exists. On the other hand, I (being the axehole that I am) say I don't really want to have a personal relationship with God, even if I come to the conclusion that he/she/it exists. Mayeux rightfully asks, what's the big mutha-flippin deal? Why engage in such an investigation if I'm not going to act on my conclusion? To his credit, Mayeux kindly allows me to escape relatively unscathed by turning what could have been a "gotcha!" moment into a reasonable and quite probing question.

Now, how do I extricate myself from this icky mess? (I'm scratching my beard in a pensive and ponderous fashion. Perhaps I'll include a video of this so you can get the full effect.)

My first thought (as is so often the case) was to lie. I was gonna make up something about how David Mayeux had hacked my blog and indited this embarrassingly blatant contradiction just to make me look bad. Even now that sounds like a good idea. Is it too late to go with that?

Ahhh, but then, the Lord spoke to me. He told me to go with the truth. He sounded drunk, slurring some nonsense about the honesty policy shall be the best policy to set you free. Adding, "Pennies and dimes saved are pennies and dimes for a kiss."

So, against my better judgment, here's the truth. When I said I wouldn't want a personal relationship with God, I was thinking in the context of the mean-spirited God of the Bible. If it turns out that this God does indeed exist, I honestly want nothing to do with him, spiritual maturity be damned. In previous blog posts, I've pointed out several passages in the Bible that portray this particular God as a hideous, monstrous being. A douchebag even. I try to avoid human douchebags in this life, and will strive to avoid divine douchebags in the afterlife.

Now, if I eventually conclude that some other kind of God exists, (not the prick of the Bible, but a God I'd like to kick back a few hard lemonades with), then I'd love to have a personal relationship with that God.

There you have it, Throng. I look forward to seeing you all in the comments. Thanks to David Mayeux for taking the time to really engage with me on these issues! All the other bloggers try to chase me, but your stare was holding, so I responded to you. Now, where you think we're going, Davey?

I have every intention of getting back to my reading of Kreeft and Tacelli for the next post. And unless something big pops up, (don't even think about saying, "That's what she said!") I'll stay with the regularly scheduled readings from here on out, keeping responses to challenges and criticism in the comments.

Peace out to all my fav'rit mo-fos!
--Pudgy Rae Muffisen