Religious Absurdities (2016)
Religious absurdities abound. They include individual beliefs or
claims, sets of beliefs or claims, practices, combinations of such
things, and so on. This paper will discuss several examples of these
absurdities.
I. Jesus was Crucified, Died, and then... was Absurdified!
Let's begin by discussing absurdities surrounding the
crucifixion of
Jesus. This is not going to be a historical discussion—I am after
philosophical or theological absurdities here. Whether Jesus was a real
historical person and was really crucified is beside the point. What is
important here is what seems to be internal to traditional Christianity
(or at least a certain version of it): the belief or claim that Jesus
was a real person and was not only crucified, but was an innocent person
crucified for our benefit—namely, to pay for our wrongdoings so that we
do not have to do so.
[1]
Let's start by looking at the crucifixion, which is sickening and
utterly horrific. It's a person of flesh and blood being nailed to a
wooden cross through his hands and feet until he dies, all the while
being in excruciating pain. And yet according to traditional
Christianity, this not only happened, but it happened
to an innocent person.
It was also supposed to happen—Christianity does not regard its
inception as an accident! God intended it, or planned it, or somehow set
things up so that it would occur.
[2]
But all of this runs into a significant amount of absurdity. First, a
morally perfect being intended, planned, or otherwise set things up so
that an innocent person would be killed in a really horrific way. Now
there is already a strong moral constraint against intending, planning,
or otherwise setting things up for an
innocent person to be
killed. Such a thing is presumptively immoral, and there must be some
really strong moral justification to override this. But the moral
constraint against intending, planning, or otherwise setting things up
for
the crucifixion of an innocent person—that is surely as high
as moral constraints come. It is right up there with the moral
constraints against boiling babies alive, torturing puppies, and all of
the other horrific things dreamed up by moral philosophers. It is as
close as one can get to an absolute moral constraint against certain
behavior. And perhaps even this concedes too much. Maybe intending,
planning, or otherwise setting things up for the crucifixion of an
innocent person is absolutely morally prohibited. If so, then the
doxastic core of traditional Christianity is flatly incoherent because
it maintains that a morally perfect being did something that's
absolutely immoral. But let's suppose that there is only an extremely
strong moral constraint against intending, planning, or otherwise
setting things up for the crucifixion of an innocent person, rather than
an absolute one. Even so, it is still patently absurd to have a morally
perfect being do any such horrific thing unless he or she has an
extremely strong, morally sufficient reason to do it. So did God have
any such reason for intending, planning, or otherwise setting up the
crucifixion of Jesus?
According to traditional Christianity (or at least the version of it
that I am evaluating here), God indeed had a reason for doing this:
he
did it to pay for the crimes of the guilty so that they don't have to
pay for them themselves, or to excuse the guilty from having to pay for
their own crimes. But this idea just makes things worse. For even if we
set aside the problem of how sacrificing the innocent in such a horrific
way can be a morally restorative action (such as the just punishment of
wrongdoers, or the repayment to victims by their wrongdoers), it should
be evident that sacrificing the innocent to pay for the crimes of the
guilty is morally problematic. Besides being a paradigmatic instance of
injustice, sacrificing the innocent to pay for the crimes of the guilty
is something that is quite plausibly ruled out by an absolute moral
constraint because (1) harming the innocent is immoral unless it is
required for achieving a just cause of sufficient moral weight (such as
saving many more innocent people from comparable harm), and yet (2)
excusing the guilty from paying for their own crimes would be an
unjust cause that would
not
require harming the innocent (simply having mercy on the guilty would
work). But if there is indeed an absolute moral constraint against
unjustly sacrificing the innocent to pay for the crimes of the guilty,
then the doxastic core of traditional Christianity is again flatly
incoherent because it maintains that God, a morally perfect being, did
something that's absolutely immoral. However, for the sake of argument,
let's again suppose that there is no such absolute moral constraint, but
only a very strong moral constraint against unjustly sacrificing the
innocent to pay for the crimes of the guilty. Even so, it is still
absurd to believe that God would behave in this way since he has no
morally sufficient reason to do so. One might be tempted to cite in
response the enormous amount of eternal suffering in Hell that will be
(or that is likely to be, or that might be) avoided by God's horrific,
unjust sacrifice of Jesus as a morally sufficient reason for him to do
it, but such a response fails for at least two reasons. First, no
sacrifice of the innocent is necessary to avoid any of this suffering.
God can instead straightforwardly have mercy on the guilty rather than
having mercy on them only after they have responded in a certain way to
the horrific, unjust sacrifice of an innocent person. Second, this
response presupposes that there is a place of eternal burning that God
created and to which he might send the guilty for punishment, yet this,
as we will see in the next section, is another absurdity in its own
right.
To make matters even worse, Jesus is supposed to literally be God's
son, which means that God intended, planned, or otherwise set up the
crucifixion of
his own innocent son for the benefit of the
guilty. This is staggering. It is already absurd for a halfway decent
father to do any such thing to his own son, let alone the most loving,
best possible father. And things get worse morally. For when someone
becomes a parent by bringing offspring into the world, he or she stands
in a special moral relationship with his or her offspring. More
specifically, the person acquires special moral obligations to his or
her offspring, which includes moral constraints against mistreating his
or her offspring that are stronger than the constraints against
mistreating most other people (which is why mistreating one's children
is worse than mistreating others in general). So, since God is supposed
to be Jesus' literal father, there is an even stronger moral constraint
against God mistreating Jesus than there is against God mistreating
others. And this just makes it even more absurd for God, a morally
perfect being, to have treated Jesus in the way that Christianity
maintains.
On the other hand, maybe all of this absurdity can be neutralized
rather easily. For instance, I have just pressed criticisms that tacitly
assume that Jesus was an
unwilling innocent person. However,
if Jesus was not an unwilling victim, but instead consented
to being crucified in order to pay for the crimes of the guilty, then
wouldn't it follow that none of the moral constraints mentioned above
would be violated by God intending, planning, or otherwise setting up
the crucifixion of Jesus to pay for the crimes of the guilty? If so,
then there would be no conflict between God's treatment of Jesus and the
strong moral constraints against such treatment, and thus no grounds
for the absurdities I argued for above.
Now I do not know if there is an official position on whether or not
Jesus consented to the crucifixion, but surely he either did or did not
consent to it. Unfortunately, the Bible sends conflicting messages. In
the Gospel of Mark, for example, Jesus famously cries out, "My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me?" right before he dies on the cross (
Mark 15:34).
And if Jesus had consented to his crucifixion, then he would not be
asking this question. Asking such a question only makes sense if Jesus
did not consent. In the Gospel of Luke, however, Jesus not only asks God
to forgive his aggressors because "they know not what they do" (
Luke 23:34), but he instead says, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit" right before he dies on the cross (
Luke 23:46).
[3]
In this Gospel, Jesus seems to know exactly what is going on and is not
at all protesting or questioning it, which strongly suggests that Jesus
did consent. But never mind all of this. Let's just assume—contra the
crucifixion scene in the Gospel of Mark—that Jesus did consent to his
crucifixion. Does this then imply that God's treatment of Jesus violates
no moral constraint and therefore isn't absurd after all?
No, it doesn't. For even if Jesus' consent were sufficient to disable
the strong moral constraints against crucifying the innocent and
crucifying one's own innocent son, it would
not disable the
strong moral constraint against sacrificing the innocent specifically to
pay for the crimes of the guilty because such consent does not make it
any less morally inappropriate to sacrifice the innocent to pay for the
crimes of the guilty. The guilty should pay a fair amount for their own
crimes, even if an innocent person sincerely—and profoundly—wants to pay
for them instead.
Letting the innocent pay for the crimes of the guilty
is a miscarriage of justice rather than an acceptable method of moral
repair. It is therefore still absurd for Christianity to have God, a
morally perfect being, sacrifice Jesus, an innocent person, to pay for
the crimes of the guilty. And to make matters worse, it is absurd to
have Jesus, who is also a morally perfect being, consent to participate
in such an unacceptable method of moral repair. As morally perfect
beings, God and Jesus would recognize the moral inappropriateness and
downright horror of crucifying an innocent person to pay for the crimes
of the guilty, and thus would flatly oppose it.
Overall, then, Jesus' consent to the crucifixion will not neutralize
the absurdity that Christianity faces here. However, there is another
aspect of Christianity that must be considered. Many Christians believe
that Jesus is God, or that they are one and the same person. I do not
know why Jesus is still called "the son of God" if he actually
is
God. This would be like referring to my father as "the son of Mike,"
which is misleading and weird. But never mind that. Some Christians
believe that Jesus is God, which is significant here for the following
reasons. The criticisms pressed above not only assume that Jesus was an
unwilling victim, but that
Jesus was a separate person from God.
But if Jesus is identical to God, then God basically crucified himself
to pay for the crimes of the guilty—he didn't crucify another person for
this purpose. And so—taking for granted that God can take human form
and have himself crucified
[4]—God
certainly did not violate any moral constraint against crucifying his
own son. He also did not violate any moral constraint against crucifying
an innocent person, since this constraint only applies to crucifying
other people. It may be bizarre or insane to crucify oneself, but it is
not necessarily immoral to do so. Therefore, Jesus being identical to
God at least disables two of the moral constraints I relied upon above
in generating the absurdity that Christianity faces here. The crucial
remaining question, then, is whether it can disable the strong moral
constraint against sacrificing the innocent to pay for the crimes of the
guilty. If it can, then Christianity does not face the charges of
absurdity that I leveled against it above.
Jesus being identical to God, however, fares no better than Jesus'
consent: neither can disable the strong moral constraint against
sacrificing the innocent to pay for the crimes of the guilty. It would
not matter in the slightest if God sacrificed himself instead of another
person: sacrificing one's own innocent self does not make sacrificing
the innocent to pay for the crimes of the guilty any more morally
appropriate, as it is still a miscarriage of justice rather than an
acceptable method of moral repair to have an innocent person pay for the
crimes of the guilty. Consequently, it is still absurd for Christianity
to have God, a morally perfect being, sacrifice an innocent
person—himself—to pay for the crimes of the guilty. And to make matters
worse, how exactly can sacrificing the innocent via crucifixion help
fill the role of morally restorative actions that the guilty should be
performing? How does crucifying the innocent pay for the crimes of the
guilty? How does it help to make things right? No sense can be made of
this. It's absurd.
Besides being unable to neutralize the absurdity charges above, the
belief that God and Jesus are identical introduces even more absurdity.
Let's start by no longer taking for granted that God had himself
crucified. What exactly are we supposed to believe happened here? Was
God
literally crucified? Did he feel the pain that a human being would feel? He either did or did not, and either way we run into absurdity.
If God did not feel such pain, then "the crucifixion" loses its
bite—it was a mock crucifixion, or one without the horror that
appearances suggest. More importantly, if God did not feel the pain that
a human being would feel, then
what exactly was sacrificed to pay for
the crimes of the guilty? It certainly was not God's
life, for it
is metaphysically impossible to annihilate a being that is eternal by
definition. But if God did not sacrifice his life or his well-being,
then what exactly was sacrificed? What was it that paid for the crimes
of the guilty? The lack of an answer here is problematic. And if God did
not die or feel the pain that a human being would feel, then he
basically staged a mock crucifixion of himself. But how exactly does
such a charade count as a morally restorative action? How does
pretending to crucify a person to death pay for the crimes of the
guilty, and thereby help restore the moral order? How does it help to
make things right? No sense can be made of this, either.
But what if God
did feel the pain that a human being would
feel? At least then the crucifixion would be genuine. (It sounds a bit
strange to put things like this—as if the crucifixion being genuine is a
relief. It's not.) Yet this does not accomplish much. Even putting
aside any potential problems with God feeling the pain that a human
being would feel (how could he feel pain without a body and a brain?),
we must ask: what was it that paid for the crimes of the guilty? At
least there is an answer this time: God's temporary yet horrific
suffering on the cross. But then we run into the same issue as
before—namely, how God temporarily inflicting horrific suffering on
himself can help fill the role of morally restorative actions that the
guilty should be performing themselves.
So far I have argued that neither Jesus' consent to the crucifixion,
nor Jesus and God being identical, can save Christianity from absurdity.
But there is, as far as I can tell, one more way that someone might try
to neutralize the original absurdity charges pressed above. Those
charges presuppose independent moral constraints and allege that God's
crucifixion of Jesus is absurd because it violates those constraints.
But what if there were no independent moral constraints? What if, as
many religious people believe, moral values, properties, obligations,
constraints, and all other such things are actually dependent on God's
attitudes? What if the moral features of our world only exist as a
result of God's approval or disapproval of things, such that (1) God's
approval, and only his approval, makes things morally good/obligatory,
and (2) his disapproval, and only his disapproval, makes things morally
bad/impermissible? If this were the case, then there would be nothing
morally objectionable about God's crucifixion of Jesus unless God
himself disapproves of it. But surely, a Christian might say, God does
not disapprove of the crucifixion, and instead approves of it. Hence
there is nothing morally objectionable about God crucifying Jesus, and
therefore nothing absurd about him doing so.
However, this response fails because it neutralizes my charges of
absurdity by
introducing an absurd theistic metaethic. The problems
attending this metaethic cannot be fully discussed here, but a sketch of
them will suffice to demonstrate its absurdity. Unfortunately, such a
sketch would still be philosophically dense and rather lengthy, so I
have included it as an
Appendix
to this essay. Here I will simply lay it down as a fact that this
theistic metaethic is too problematic to save Christianity from the
absurdity charges pressed above. Therefore, since none of the other
attempts at neutralizing these charges were successful, we must conclude
that, until such a successful attempt can be demonstrated, the doxastic
core of Christianity—the belief in God's crucifixion of the innocent
Jesus to pay for the crimes of the guilty—is absurd.
Before leaving the crucifixion behind, I want to briefly discuss one
more strange Christian belief tied up with it. I do not think that this
is an official aspect of Christianity (if there is any such thing), but
it is a Christian belief that should not go unmentioned.
This is the
belief that the crucifixion is a sign of God's love. If you want proof
of God's love, some Christians say, just look at the cross—that
demonstrates God's love. But if I were to see a father crucify his own
son to pay for the crimes of the guilty, it would not be my gut reaction
to think, "Whoa, that father is full of love!" Far from love, I would
instead take such a horrific action as a sign of sheer mental
derangement. And the same would hold true if that father were really
just crucifying himself instead of his son.
To put the point a little
more strongly, it makes the least amount of sense to look at the
crucifixion and see love, while it makes perfect sense to look at it and
see mental derangement.
II. The Crazy Christian God
The Christian God thus appears to be mentally deranged for crucifying
Jesus to pay for the crimes of the guilty. But this is just the
beginning of the Christian God's craziness.
Let's begin with the fact that, like the God of general theism, the
Christian God is held to be eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing,
all-loving, fully rational, and morally perfect (among other things).
Christianity then portrays God in ways that conflict with these
fundamental divine attributes.
First and foremost is Christianity's
creation of Hell: it maintains that God created Hell to eternally punish
wrongdoers via eternal burning. But besides the absurdity of having a
supremely loving father create such a horrific place to punish his
beloved children, this aspect of Christianity conflicts with God's moral
perfection. For the wrong that people do overall, even if it is a very
hefty amount, surely does not amount to so much that it warrants
eternal burning—no
one has done so much wrong that they deserve this maximal punishment.
And this means that the punishment of Hell is patently unjust. It is
therefore absurd to have God—a morally perfect being—create this
terrible place specifically for meting out unjust punishment.
The only response to this that I know of is the following: that (1)
our wrongdoings are offenses against God, (2) offenses against God are
offenses against an infinite being, (3) offenses against an infinite
being warrant infinite punishment, and thus (4) our wrongdoings warrant
infinite punishment. So, the argument goes, God creating Hell does not
conflict with his being morally perfect.
However, this response runs into some serious problems. First, it is
at best true that (1') only some of our wrongdoings are offenses against
God. Many of our wrongdoings are not offenses against God—they are
instead offenses against other humans and nonhuman animals.
[5]
More importantly, though, it is difficult to think of an example of
what would actually be an offense against God. We clearly cannot wrong
God in many of the ways that we wrong other people. I suppose that we
could offend him, but offending someone does not necessarily wrong that
person. Sometimes people are offended by free speech, but this does not
imply that they have been wronged by it. Some might think that atheists
wrong God by not believing in him, but that is ridiculous. If you were a
famous author, for example, but a woman believed that you did not
really exist, you would not be wronged by her. She would hold a false
belief, and perhaps even be guilty of being an irresponsible epistemic
agent, but she would not be guilty of
wronging you. She would not
violate your right against others that they believe in your existence,
as you have no such right against others. Nor would she harm you, treat
you only as a means to an end, or otherwise degrade or disrespect you by
believing that you do not exist.
Others might claim that nonbelievers wrong God by not worshipping
him. But that, too, is ridiculous, as no one has any right against
others that they
worship him or her.
Even if a morally perfect
being existed, that being would not have a claim to our worship. We
would probably owe things to such a being, but worship would not be one
of the things owed. At best, worshipping a being—even a morally perfect
one—is morally permissible. It is not obligatory.
Still others might suggest that we wrong God whenever we transgress
any of his commands, but this is false. Just as we do nothing wrong by
flouting the commands of other human beings when they have no
independent moral authority, so too we do nothing wrong by flouting
God's commands when they have no independent moral authority (e.g., the
command not to work on Sundays). And if we do nothing wrong in these
cases, then we do not wrong God in them. Moreover, even if we were doing
wrong when flouting God's commands, it would not follow that we
wrong God
in doing so. For example, if I stole something from you without a
sufficient moral reason for doing so, then I would have transgressed
God's command not to steal. But in that case I would have wronged
you, and
only you, because it is
your
property that I illicitly stole. I in no way wronged God just by
transgressing his command not to steal, just like I would in no way have
wronged another human being that had issued this command (provided, of
course, that the person that I stole from is not the one that had issued
the command). In either case, it is you, and only you, that I wrong by
my theft.
Let's imagine that we sometimes can and do wrong God, however, and
thus that at least some of our wrongdoings are offenses against God.
Even so, another and more serious problem with this response is that (3)
is false: wrongdoings do not warrant infinite punishment just by being
offenses against an infinite being. To warrant infinite punishment, an
offense would have to be severe enough to render that punishment
proportional to it, and yet an offense against an infinite being can be
too weak to render an infinite amount of punishment proportional to it.
For example, lying to an infinite being would be a rather minor offense,
to which infinite punishment would obviously not be proportional. So it
would not warrant any kind of infinite punishment. The infinity of the
being might make some difference to the severity of the lie, but it
would not render the lie a major offense, and it would certainly not
render it an offense severe enough to warrant infinite punishment.
Moreover, if infinite punishment is automatically warranted for
offenses against an infinite being, but not for offenses against a
finite being, then offending infinite beings must be more severe than
offending finite ones. And this seems to then imply that, generally
speaking, the closer a being is to being infinite, the more severe an
offense is against that being (as compared to it against a more finite
being). But this is false: an offense is not necessarily more severe
just because it is done to a being that is closer to being infinite. For
example, even though Albert Einstein is much closer to being an
infinite being than a 5-year-old child, you would not be doing something
worse by unjustly and painfully slapping Einstein in the face in place
of unjustly and equally painfully slapping the child. To the contrary,
unjustly slapping Einstein would either be as bad as unjustly slapping
the child, or else unjustly slapping the child would be even worse. Or
consider another example. It is not worse to break a promise to a very
intelligent and creative adult than it is to break one to a child
because the adult is a more developed being than the child.
The severity of breaking a promise will of course depend on many
factors—e.g., your relationship to the other person, the gravity of your
failure to keep the promise, and so on—but what does not matter is how
developed the being is to whom you have broken a promise. The
development of a being might
indirectly matter in virtue of
having an influence on the adverse effects of a broken promise, but it
will not directly matter in the sense that the greater development of a
being
per se contributes to the severity of the broken promise.
Finally, suppose that, contrary to what I've just argued, some of our wrongdoings are offenses against God that
do
warrant infinite punishment because they are offenses against an
infinite being. Even so, it still would not follow that eternal burning
in Hell would be an appropriate form of infinite punishment. There is
surely no harsher punishment than this, so the offenses against God that
we allegedly commit must be the severest of wrongdoings. But since we
cannot rape, torture, or murder God, or ruin his eternal life, I do not
see how anything we could do to him could possibly warrant eternal
burning in Hell.
[6]
In addition to creating and using Hell, the Christian God is
regularly portrayed as an intimidating, wrathful, control-hungry despot.
He wants us to fear him—the Bible (like the Koran) is chock full of
injunctions to fear God—and he is more than ready to toss us into the
fires of Hell, or severely punish us here on earth, for not abiding by
his never-ending commands to do whatever he says. But this is obviously
in conflict with God's purported moral perfection.
A morally perfect
being would not want—let alone command—people to constantly fear it.
Constant fear is a terrible thing that only a moral monster would want
or command. Moreover, fearing a morally perfect being is
ridiculous—
morally perfect beings are precisely the kind of things that
we should not fear. And while a morally perfect being would be
disposed to appropriately punish people for wrongdoings, such a being
would not possess the wrath of tyrants, who are ready to harshly punish
anything that goes against what they say or want.
Overall, morally
perfect beings are the opposite of intimidating, wrathful, control-hungry despots.
The portrayal of God as an intimidating, wrathful, control-hungry
despot is also inconsistent with him being the supremely loving father.
Loving parents do not want or command their children to constantly fear
them; only horribly abusive parents do. It is also ridiculous to fear a
supremely
loving father—such a being, like a morally perfect one, is precisely
the kind of being that we should not fear. (Just think of the flesh and
blood humans in your life that love you the most. You do not fear them,
and rightfully so: it makes no sense to fear them because they truly
love you.) And while a loving father would be disposed to appropriately
punish his children for certain wrongdoings, the punishment would not be
anywhere near as severe as the kinds of punishment that God is alleged
to carry out and threaten. Furthermore, supremely loving fathers do not
possess the wrath of tyrants ready to harshly punish anything that goes
against what they say or want. Like morally perfect beings, supremely
loving fathers are the opposite of intimidating, wrathful,
control-hungry despots.
The portrayal of God as an intimidating, wrathful, control-hungry despot also conflicts with God being
worthy
of praise and worship. This is not to say that it would not be in one's
rational self-interest to praise and worship such a despotic being; it
certainly would be in order to reduce the likelihood of being
tyrannically abused. An intimidating, wrathful, control-hungry, despotic
God simply does not
merit praise and worship. Many religious
people and institutions claim otherwise when they portray God in this
unflattering fashion, yet insist on his being praiseworthy and worthy of
worship; but this is just absurd.
When combined with the claim that God created humans, the despotic
image of God produces another absurdity. Consider the nature of humans.
One of the things that we value most is freedom and autonomy—we deeply
desire these things, enough to fight for them. So why would a supremely
intelligent, control-hungry despot create us? It would make no sense for
him to do so: he would be smart enough to create beings that are likely
to do as he commands rather than beings that are likely to defy his
commands because of their deep desire to be free and autonomous.
Believers portray the Christian God in even more problematic ways. I have heard
Christians claim that we were created to glorify God.
But such self-serving, supremely vain behavior is not the kind of
behavior that we would expect from a morally perfect being. Sure, God is
great and wonderful—he is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving, fully
rational, morally perfect, and cannot be anything else. But even though
he can and should feel good about himself, or do nice things for
himself, creating beings in one's own image for the sole purpose of
glorifying oneself (whatever that means) goes too far.
Such gratuitous
vanity is inconsistent with being morally perfect. A truly virtuous
person would do no such thing.
Besides creating us to generally glorify him, God is portrayed as
wanting constant praise and flattery. Now this is either vanity or
insecurity, and either way it is problematic. If it is vanity, then it
is inconsistent with God's moral perfection. As for the alternative,
insecurity is precisely the opposite of the attitude that God would have
towards himself. An all-knowing being would know, with absolute
certainty, how great and wonderful he is, and so he would not be
insecure about himself. He would certainly not need to seek constant
reassurance from humans, who fall far short of his supreme excellence.
One final absurdity worth discussing relates to the Christian God's alleged desire to build loving relationships with humans.
[7]
This desire is not crazy, nor is it in conflict with God's attributes;
but it does not cohere well with other things that God allegedly does or
fails to do. First, God allegedly permits or creates a ton of severe
evil—rape, torture, murder, genocide, child and spousal abuse, disease
and extreme poverty, and natural disasters (just to name a few)—and this
makes it much more difficult to further his aim of building loving
relationships with us. For one thing, people will not love a being that
they think does not exist, and yet the plethora of severe evil in the
world is probably responsible for a significant amount of the nonbelief
in God's existence.
So by permitting or creating the plethora of severe
evil in the world, God is basically frustrating his goal of building
loving relationships with us by significantly undermining one of the
most fundamental conditions that must be in place for the realization of
these relationships.[8]
Furthermore, even if permitting or creating the plethora of severe
evil in the world would not frustrate God's aim of building loving
relationships with us by undermining the belief in his existence, it
would still frustrate his aim directly. For even when God is believed
in, it will not be possible for some people to love a being that permits
or creates a plethora of severe evil. This will be especially true of
those who are the direct victims of these evils, or are directly
connected to the victims of such evils. Just think about their
situation. They or someone they care about are the victims of severe
evil that God either permitted or created, and they are not given any
explanation as to why this has happened, or any reassurance that there
is a good explanation. Also, God does not comfort them as human parents
would comfort their children in similar circumstances. The only comfort
that people could get "from God" would be from their unwavering faith in
his presence and maybe some great plan—they would not receive anything
remotely like the intimate attention that they would get from a loving
human parent. Generally speaking, then, this kind of behavior on God's
part does not make him very lovable, and this makes loving relationships
with him difficult to actualize.
Besides permitting and creating a plethora of severe evil, God has
also chosen to remain hidden and silent from people in general. Some
people have had religious experiences that they take to be direct
experiences of God's presence, or generally feel God's presence in their
lives. Others have literally heard what they take to be God talking to
them. And by now most people have been given massive (and various) tomes
of Scripture to find out what God is like. But most people do not (a)
feel or experience God's presence or (b) hear a peep directly from God.
He is completely hidden and silent. So his general policy is to hide
from and not talk to people, and instead have them read about him in
books that portray him in unflattering ways (e.g., as jealous, vain,
intimidating, wrathful, cruel, unjust, and morally schizophrenic
overall). That this is an utterly unpromising, and indeed
counterproductive, way of going about forming loving relationships with
people should be abundantly clear.
Overall, then, it would be absurd for God to have an interest in
forming loving relationships with us while simultaneously adopting such
severely counterproductive policies. God is supposed to be supremely
intelligent and rational, not a blundering idiot who acts in ways that
are very likely to frustrate his goals.
III. Thou Shalt Love and Fear Me!
As previously noted, the Bible (like the Koran) is full of
injunctions to fear God. But we are also commanded to love him. So the
Christian God (or at least the Christian tradition) commands us to both
fear and love God. This generates multiple absurdities.
Consider first just the command to love God. Why would a being as wonderful as God need to
command
others to love him? Earthly loving fathers do not need to command their
children to love them, so why would a supremely loving father—one far
better than any here on earth—need to do so? It really makes no sense.
God's wonderful nature would be more than enough to get people to love
him, so he would not need to command them to do so. In fact, if you
think about it, God's commanding us to love him actually flirts with
self-defeat. Generally speaking, commanding others to love you would not
be likely to get them to do so, but would instead be likely to turn
them away. Just imagine a person sincerely commanding you to love him or
her. Not asking you to, or begging you to, but
commanding you
to. This makes the person repulsive and maybe scary—certainly not
lovable. Commanding others to love you, then, is likely to defeat the
very purpose that the command is meant to achieve, and so it would be
absurd for a supremely intelligent God to issue such a command.
Now let's look at the two commands together. The purpose of these
commands is to get us to both love and fear God, yet these purposes are
in severe tension with each other. People that we fear are not lovable,
and so it is difficult, if not impossible, for us to sincerely love
those who we fear. And people that we love are generally not
frightening, so it is difficult, if not impossible, for us to fear
people that we love. In other words, when we genuinely fear people, we
are very unlikely to love them; and when we genuinely love people, we
are very unlikely to fear them.
And this means that a command to love
God, if effective, would be likely to undermine a command to fear God,
and vice versa. The two commands are thus generally in conflict with
each other, so it is absurd for the Christian God (or Christian
tradition) to issue them simultaneously.
IV. Trust and Do Not Question!
All religious people believe that you can trust the messages of their
sacred texts, traditions, sermons, and so on. In fact, nothing else in
the world is alleged to be worthier of trust—there is nothing that you
ought
to trust more—than the messages of the correct religion (which they all
claim to be, of course). Yet despite their supposed maximal
trustworthiness, we are constantly told not to question them. Sometimes
such questioning is deemed a sin, so much so that some Christians
threaten eternal hellfire as punishment for it. Now it is already absurd
to claim that doubt is wrongful behavior. Someone may doubt things
without having good grounds for doing so—for example, simply because it
threatens one's cherished beliefs. Or someone may have good reasons to
doubt things even though they happen to be true. But in neither case is
the doubter
morally wrong for doubting. The doubter may be an
irresponsible epistemic agent, or doubt inappropriately (epistemically
speaking), or be making an honest mistake—but he or she is not guilty of
morally wrongful behavior deserving of punishment. And even if doubt
were sometimes morally wrong, it surely would not warrant punishment
that is anywhere near as severe as the eternal fires of Hell. (Such a
punishment would obviously not be proportional to the offense.) So
claiming that eternal misery in Hell constitutes proper punishment for
doubting religious messages—along with making such doubt wrongful in the
first place—is absurd.
But to my original point, it is absurd for religious people, texts,
or organizations to maintain the supreme trustworthiness of their
religious messages while simultaneously ordering us not to question
those messages. Think about a person who orders you not to question his
story. Does this increase his trustworthiness? Of course it doesn't. It
instead makes him look rather suspicious, and therefore
less
trustworthy. And things would be even worse if instead of merely
ordering others not to question him, he threatened punishment in return
for disobeying such orders. Overall, the order not to question what one
says just by itself—and even more so when combined with threats of
punishment for disobedience—suggests that what one is saying would not
stand up to critical scrutiny or is simply not credible in its own
right. And this obviously reduces the trustworthiness of one's message.
So by resorting to (1) prohibitions on questioning religious messages or
(2) threats of punishment for such questioning, religious people,
texts, and organizations undermine their claims to the supreme
trustworthiness of their religious messages. And that is why it is
absurd to maintain the supreme trustworthiness of one's religious
messages while simultaneously ordering people not to question them.
V. God's Absurd Army
Forget about fighting in Uncle Sam's army. That might be a noble
thing to do, but some people claim to serve in the highest army of
all—"God's army." Some even go so far as to believe that God
chose
them to serve in this army. Yet, if taken literally, the idea of
serving in such an army is absurd. After all, why would God need an army
to begin with? Since God is both all-knowing and all-powerful, he can
handle his enemies on his own with the blink of an eye. He doesn't need
anyone else, let alone
an entire army, to fight for him.
Furthermore, even if God did need an army, why would he fill it with
weak and puny humans? That would be like the United States sending an
elementary school basketball team to the Olympics to play for them.
"But you are misinterpreting things!" someone might protest. "You
should not interpret things literally here—people are just expressing
the depth of their commitment to do God's work when they say that they
are fighting for God's army. And there is nothing absurd about people
doing God's work." This is a fair point that I imagine has a grain of
truth. However, I seriously doubt that it applies to all people who
claim to fight in God's army. Surely some people really do believe,
quite literally, that they fight in God's army. And surely some believe
that God literally chose them to fight in his army. So my criticism here
is not entirely toothless. Moreover, doing God's work might well be
absurd itself: God is both all-knowing and all-powerful, so he could do
his own work rather easily. He could, for example, just set up the world
from the very beginning to unfold in a certain way, which some people
believe he has in fact done (more on this later). It is therefore quite
strange for large numbers of people to claim to do God's work (and
especially to dedicate their entire lives to it).
VI. The Absurd Practice of Prayer
Multiple absurdities surround the practice of praying to God. One is
the absurdity of praying to a being that is not there, which is an
obvious absurdity if atheism is true. But even if atheism were false,
there are other absurdities with prayer that do not depend on the truth
of atheism.
Let's start with the basics. People pray to ask God to do things that
they cannot do on their own. I do not know every kind of thing that
people ask for when they pray to God, but it is safe to say that most
people probably ask him for some kind of good fortune, either for
themselves or for those they care about.
And yet it is absurd to ask
God to treat people benevolently. Since God is all-knowing, he does not
need to be told what will promote the well-being of others—he already
knows this. And since God is all-loving and morally perfect, he does not
need to be asked to treat people benevolently—he will do so on his own.
Consequently, the majority of prayer is absurd because it is completely
unnecessary.
Now one might object that God may sometimes have good reasons not to
grant people good fortune, and since we do not know when he may have
these reasons, it is quite reasonable to pray as much as we can because
this will maximize our odds of influencing God in these unfortunate
cases. So it is not at all absurd to pray for good fortune. But even
though God may indeed have good reasons to not grant people good
fortune, God's all-loving and morally perfect nature entails that God
will generally promote the good fortune of others. So it follows that,
generally speaking, prayer is still unnecessary. And in cases where God
has good reasons not to grant people good fortune, he will be moved
by those reasons
to act, not by requests that conflict with them. In sum, then, God will
generally grant people good fortune because of his maximally good
nature, but will sometimes refuse them good fortune because he has good
reasons to refuse it. Accordingly, praying for good fortune is either
unnecessary or futile, and so the majority of prayer is still absurd.
One possible retort is that it is reasonable to pray because prayer
is undeniably psychologically beneficial to many, if not all, people who
practice it. If prayer calms, relaxes, comforts, gives hope, and
confers other psychological benefits
despite its cosmic futility or gratuitousness,
then surely it is reasonable to engage in it. So even if the majority
of prayer is either unnecessary or futile, I am wrong to infer that it
is absurd.
But this response fails because an activity is not rendered
reasonable just because it is psychologically beneficial. While the
psychological benefits conferred by prayer do constitute good reasons to
pray,
prayer is reasonable only if accruing these benefits are the reasons why people pray.
If they pray for other reasons (e.g., to get God to do things for them)
and the psychological benefits are just fortunate byproducts, then the
futility and gratuitousness of prayer still renders it absurd. And
surely very few people pray
in order to accrue the psychological
benefits of doing so. Instead, people probably tend to pray in order to
get God to do things for them and accrue the psychological benefits as
mere byproducts. So the majority of prayer is still absurd.
[9]
Another absurdity surrounding prayer is the absurd belief that
prayers for the satisfaction of basic needs sometimes work. For consider
what this belief entails. First, people ask God to satisfy their own or
someone else's basic needs. Second, God is moved by the request and
thereby grants it. Third, God is doing something for people that he
would not have done on his own, otherwise prayer wouldn't move God to do
anything (since God was going to do it anyway). But all of this, when
combined with God's all-knowing nature, implies that God already knew
what the praying people needed, but made them ask for it before he would
give it to them. Is it not a cruel, gratuitous display of power to
treat people this way? Wouldn't only a first-class jerk refuse to grant
others what he or she knows they need until they specifically ask for
it? Surely a supremely kind, all-loving, morally perfect God would not
treat people in this way, and thus it is absurd for people to believe
something that implies that he would.
Finally, it is absurd for people to pray to God in order to
positively affect the future while simultaneously believing that God has
predetermined everything.
[10]
For if God has predetermined everything, then the future has already
been strictly fixed by God to unfold in a specific way. Consequently,
prayer cannot affect the future at all, which means that prayer is
completely futile. And that makes it absurd for people who believe in
divine predetermination to pray in order to positively affect the
future. A similar conclusion will follow if we think about this from the
other direction. If prayer is not completely futile, then it can affect
the future. But if prayer can affect the future—if it can make the
future go one way instead of another—then God could not have completely
determined the future. More specifically, if prayer has the power to
make the future go one way instead of another, then the future must be
at least somewhat open in the sense that it can go more than one way.
And if the future is open, then God has not predetermined it, as this
would make the future closed in the sense that it can only go one
way—the way that God predetermined it to go. Therefore, it is absurd for
people who pray to God in order to positively affect the future to
believe that he has predetermined everything.
Now some might be tempted to point out that praying to positively
affect the future, like everything else, is simply a part of God's
predetermination. But this does not dissolve the absurdity of praying to
God in order to positively affect the future while simultaneously
believing that God predetermined everything. On the contrary, it
actually reveals more absurdity. Consider first that people pray a lot
in order to positively affect the future, and that they not only believe
that such prayer can work, but they hope that it will work. Yet
combining these facts with the supposition that God predetermined
everything entails two additional absurdities. First, it entails that
God predetermined people to pray to him in order to positively affect
the future even though such prayer is completely futile—and therefore
absurd—due to predetermination. And second, it entails that God
predetermined people to have a false belief and false hope in the
efficacy of their prayer. The first entailment has God making countless
people do completely futile (and thus absurd) things as part of his
grand plan for the world, while the second one has him deceiving
countless numbers of people and engendering false hope in them as part
of his plan. Both are obviously problematic: it makes no sense for God
to have countless people do absurd things, and it is morally
objectionable for God to deceive and engender false hope on a massive
scale. The latter is particularly problematic in that it has a morally
perfect being doing morally objectionable things to countless numbers of
people.
But suppose that someone responds as follows. God predetermines that
people pray to him in order to positively affect the future, but he
predetermines this so that they will accrue the psychological benefits
from such prayer. And even though it might be absurd for these people to
pray to God in order to positively affect the future, it makes perfect
sense for God to predetermine them to do this so that they accrue the
psychological benefits. The first entailment, then, is not problematic.
Moreover, people would not accrue these benefits if they did not falsely
believe that prayer could positively affect the future. So God's deceit
is necessary for people to accrue the psychological benefits from
prayer, and this morally justifies the deception. And the false hope
engendered by this is an unfortunate yet unavoidable byproduct that is
also justified by the psychological benefits of prayer. So the second
entailment is not problematic, either.
But this response fails if God could procure for people the same
psychological benefits derived from praying to him in order to
positively affect the future
by other, unproblematic means. If
God could procure these benefits for people without making people do
anything absurd, then it would make no sense for God to make people act
absurdly in order to get such benefits. And if God could procure them
without intentionally deceiving and engendering false hope in people,
then it would be morally objectionable for God to go ahead and procure
such benefits via these problematic means. But surely an all-powerful
and all-knowing God could succeed on all of these accounts. Surely he
could find
some other, unproblematic way of procuring the
psychological benefits that people get from praying to God in order to
positively affect the future. Perhaps he could just say, "Let there be
psychological benefits," and then people would have them. Or maybe he
could just have people sing happy songs, read warm and fuzzy stories, or
think about God's greatness. The possibilities here seem endless.
Moreover, this response dubiously assumes that the psychological
benefits people accrue from praying to God in order to positively affect
the future are of sufficient weight to morally justify God's
intentional deceit and promotion of false hope. Although such
psychological benefits are good, they do not seem to be good enough to
morally justify intentional deception and the engendering of false hope.
For example, if a doctor intentionally deceived and engendered false
hope in a patient with terminal cancer by telling her that she had a
disease with a very good prognosis, the doctor would be sparing the
patient from things like being distraught, grief-stricken, depressed,
and acutely afraid of impending death. These are very strong
psychological benefits, but it is not clear that they are weighty enough
to morally justify the intentional deception and (especially) the
engendering of false hope. And if it is questionable that these very
strong psychological benefits are strong enough to morally justify
intentional deception and the engendering of false hope, then it is even
more questionable that the much weaker psychological benefits of
praying to God in order to positively affect the future are strong
enough to morally justify God intentionally deceiving people and
engendering false hope in them.
In the end, then, the response in question fails to resolve the
problems attending the two entailments above, and thus fails to
neutralize the absurdity.
VII. More Absurdities Involving Divine Predetermination
The above absurdities involving prayer and the belief in divine
predetermination are just the tip of the iceberg. This final section
will point out several other absurdities involving divine
predetermination.
Let's begin with the inconsistency between divine predetermination
and a metaphysically robust free will. If human beings had this kind of
free will, then
we would be able to determine, on many occasions,
how the future unfolds—in which case God would not have predetermined
it for us. More specifically, if we had such free will, then at times we
would face an open future, such that there would be many different
possible ways that the future could go, and it would be up to
our wills
which one gets actualized. But then God could not have predetermined
the future for us, as his predetermination would mean that (1) we would
always face a closed future such that there would be only one possible
way that the future could go (namely, the way that God has predetermined
it to go), and (2) it would not be up to
our wills how the future would go.
Now this inconsistency is important in at least two related ways.
First, many religious people believe that we have free will in this
metaphysically robust way. But this belief makes it absurd for them to
also believe in divine predetermination, as these two beliefs are
inconsistent. So one absurdity is to believe in divine predetermination
while simultaneously believing that we have free will in a
metaphysically robust sense. Second, many religious people believe that
people commit "sins" (or wrongful acts), and that they commit them
freely in a robust metaphysical sense:
it was their own wills
that determined that they would commit the sins even though their wills
could have determined otherwise. This obviously could not happen if God
predetermined everything to happen in a certain way, and so another
absurdity is to believe in divine predetermination while simultaneously
believing that people commit "sins."
[11]
Things get worse for people who believe in divine predetermination
while simultaneously believing that God regularly sends people to Hell—a
place that he created in order to eternally burn people as punishment
for their "sins."
Once again, people cannot really "sin" if God has
predetermined everything. Instead, everything that anyone ever does is
strictly fixed by God to happen, which means that people do not have a
choice about what to do. They
must do what God has predetermined them to do. But it would then be
the height of injustice
to punish people for their behavior via eternal burning in Hell. For
there is nothing more unjust than to dish out the harshest possible
punishment to people for things that they are forced to do by someone
else—and yet this is precisely what God would be doing if he were to
send people to Hell despite predetermining everything. But since God is a
morally perfect being, he would certainly not perpetrate this maximal
injustice (nor would he create a place whose sole purpose is to do so).
So it is absurd to believe anything that would imply otherwise.
Things get even worse for people who believe in divine
predetermination while simultaneously believing that a supremely evil
Satan exists. For if Satan exists and a supremely good God predetermined
everything, then it follows that God has predetermined everything about
Satan—his evil character, his evil desires, and his evil actions.
Like
everything else, the way that Satan is, and everything he does, is all
God's doing. Like everyone else, Satan is a puppet of God. But if the
master is supremely good, then how can the puppet be supremely evil? In
fact, how can the puppet be
truly evil at all?
Like any other
puppet, it makes no sense to think of Satan as truly good or evil—only
the puppet's master can be judged as such. And it makes no sense for the
puppet to be supremely evil while its master is supremely good. If the
puppet could sensibly be good or evil, then it would surely need to
inherit this characterization from the one pulling its strings. Overall,
then, a supremely good God who predetermines everything cannot coexist
with a Satan that is supremely evil (or even truly evil at all), and so
it is absurd to believe otherwise.
There is a related absurdity worth mentioning here. Some religious
people believe not only in the existence of a supremely evil Satan, but
that all religions other than their own are Satanic lies. And even if we
disregard the problems that these beliefs have in their own right
[12],
such beliefs are inconsistent with a belief in divine predetermination.
For if God did predetermine everything, then again it follows that God
predetermined everything about Satan, including the supposed lies that
he has told.
So these lies would be God's lies instead of Satan's lies.
Like everything else, the religious lies allegedly being told ultimately
stem from God's will, and thus it would be absurd to believe that they
are Satan's lies instead of God's lies.
In addition to believing in a supremely evil Satan, many religious
people believe that Judas betrayed Jesus and that the Jews killed Jesus.
And these people tend to become angry with or even hate these figures
as a result of their belief: they get angry with or hate Satan for being
supremely evil, they get angry with or hate Judas for betraying Jesus,
and they get angry with or hate the Jews for killing Jesus. But if these
people also believe in divine predetermination, then directing their
anger or hate towards Satan, Judas, or the Jews is absurd. For if God
predetermined everything, then again Satan is a mere puppet of God, and
it would be ridiculous to get angry with or hate a puppet. (It would be
even more ridiculous to have either attitude towards a puppet while
having an opposite attitude towards its master.) Similarly, if God
predetermined everything, then Judas and the Jews were just doing what
they had to do—what they had no choice but to do—in virtue of God's
will. Like Satan, they are basically God's puppets as well, and so it is
also ridiculous to get angry with or hate them. (And it's even more
ridiculous to have either attitude towards them while holding an
opposite attitude towards God, the one who is truly responsible for what
they did.)
There are several other troublesome implications of a belief in
divine predetermination. For example,
many religious people conceive of
the world in terms of a struggle between good and evil. But if God has
predetermined everything to happen in a particular way, then there is
not
really any such struggle. Instead, the world unfolds in
exactly the way that God intended. The situation is analogous to a child
playing with G.I. Joes having them fight each other. Just as the child
determines every movement of the G.I. Joes, God determines every
movement of every other being. And just as the G.I. Joes cannot be
engaged in a genuine struggle against one another because
the child's will
determines their every movement, beings other than God cannot be
engaged in a genuine struggle against one another or against God if
God's will
determines their every movement. The upshot, then, is that it is absurd
to simultaneously believe in divine predetermination and in any genuine
struggle between good and evil because divine predetermination rules
out the possibility of any such struggle.
Additionally, many religious people believe that God not only wants
us to abide by his wishes, but that he has issued commands for us to
follow. But if God has predetermined everything, then neither of these
beliefs makes any sense. Let's look at the former belief first. If God
genuinely wanted us to abide by his wishes, it would have to be due to
us having wills of our own. For God's desire to make any sense, we would
need to have wills that operate independently of his and thus could go
against his wishes. To see why, consider first the following example. I
can sensibly want my spouse to abide by my wishes, but only because she
has a will of her own—one that operates
independently of my will
and thus can go against my wishes. However, I cannot sensibly want G.I.
Joes to abide by my wishes precisely because they have no wills of their
own—they operate only according to my will and thus cannot go against
my wishes. But since people are like G.I. Joes if God predetermined
everything—absent wills operating independently of God, they cannot go
against his wishes—it follows that God cannot sensibly want us to abide
by his wishes. So it is absurd to believe that God wants something that
his predetermining everything makes impossible.
Next consider the belief that God issues commands to us. Just as it
would make no sense for me to issue commands to G.I. Joes because they
have no wills of their own that could go against my wishes, it would
make no sense for God to issue commands to us if he has predetermined
everything because this would imply that we have no wills of our own
that could go against God's wishes. It is therefore absurd to believe
that God issues commands to people despite predetermining everything.
The same is true of the belief that people rebel against or become
enemies of God. And it should be clear why: if God predetermined
everything, then everything that happens is precisely how
God
determined it to happen—nothing at all can genuinely go against God.
Anything that people say "goes against God" actually stems from God's
will, and thus cannot be said to genuinely go against God. It is
therefore absurd to simultaneously believe in divine predetermination
and that people go against God. And like Satan, all beings that are said
to be "enemies of God" are really God's puppets if God has
predetermined everything. So there can be no real enemies of God under
divine predetermination, which makes it absurd to simultaneously believe
in both.
Then there are the religious beliefs that God forgives people for
their wrongdoings and that God does things to test us, which both share
the same fate. Once again, we cannot "sin" if God has predetermined
everything. All of our behavior, like everything else, is determined by
God's will. But this means that God cannot
really forgive us for
anything. The situation is analogous to me "forgiving" G.I. Joes for
their "sins." I could have them "commit wrongdoings" towards me or each
other, and then say "I forgive you" afterwards, but I would not be
genuinely forgiving them. In order for me to genuinely forgive them,
they would need to have a will independent of mine that is capable of
wronging people, which the G.I. Joes obviously do not have. And since
people are like G.I. Joes if God has predetermined everything, then God
cannot genuinely forgive them for anything. Thus it is absurd to believe
that God has predetermined everything and yet forgives people for their
"sins." Likewise, under predetermination God cannot genuinely test us
any more than I can "test" my G.I. Joes. I could of course
pretend
to test them, but I could not genuinely do so because they lack their
own wills. Genuinely testing others is done to find out how
they
will react to the test, which requires them to be capable of genuine
reaction. But if the others do not have their own independent wills,
then they cannot genuinely react to anything, and so they cannot be
genuinely tested. Since divine predetermination essentially makes us all
like G.I. Joes, we cannot be genuinely tested if it is true, and so it
is absurd to believe that God has predetermined everything and yet
genuinely tests people.
[13]
Consider next the belief in God choosing people to do things for him.
Surely everyone that holds some version of this belief believes that
God has chosen some people for religious missions
while many other people have not been so chosen.
However, if divine predetermination is true, then people cannot be
divided up into the chosen and unchosen, for everyone is doing precisely
what God has predetermined them to do, and thus everyone is "chosen."
Even someone like me would be fulfilling a purpose specifically chosen
by God if divine predetermination were true. (Even me writing this paper
would be fulfilling such a purpose!) It is therefore absurd to believe
in divine predetermination while simultaneously believing that only some
people are chosen by God to do things.
Many religious people also believe that God sometimes protects people
from bad things. However, there can be no genuine divine protection if
divine predetermination is true. I could pretend to protect one G.I. Joe
from the aggression of another, but since I am the one controlling the
aggression, I cannot be said to be offering genuine protection. True
protection would have to be offered against forces that are operating
independently of me. And the same is true of God if divine
predetermination is true. Since God predetermines everything, he
controls any danger directed towards people; there is no danger coming
from any force operating independently of him. Therefore, he cannot
genuinely protect anyone from any kind of danger. If anyone ever escapes
danger or remains untouched by it, then that is because God has
predetermined things to happen that way. He did not protect anyone by
thwarting hostile forces operating independently of him. Consequently,
it is absurd to simultaneously believe in divine predetermination and
divine protection.
Finally, some religious people and traditions regularly portray God
as angry, frustrated, and jealous. He is said to be angry and frustrated
because we are not doing what he wants, are violating his commands, are
thwarting his plans, and so on. And he is said to be jealous because we
are paying attention to others instead of giving him attention. But if
God has predetermined everything, then this is all just plain
ridiculous. If God has predetermined everything and yet is angry and
frustrated, then he is angry and frustrated at things
that he himself has intentionally brought about.
This would be like me getting angry at or frustrated by the behavior of
the G.I. Joes that I control completely, which is obviously ridiculous.
And if God has predetermined everything and yet experiences jealousy,
then he is essentially making himself feel jealous, which is just as
ridiculous as me making my G.I. Joes pay attention to someone else and
then getting jealous over it. I may of course pretend to be jealous, but
it is absurd to think that I could be genuinely jealous of "attention"
paid to others that I control. Overall, then, it is absurd to portray
God as experiencing these reactions even though he has predetermined
everything.
Notes
[
1] This is not to say that the crucifixion of Jesus
automatically excuses us from having to pay for our own wrongdoings
according to traditional Christianity. As I understand it, that Jesus
was crucified "to pay for our wrongdoings so that we do not have to do
so" means that the point of crucifying him was to have him vicariously
pay a penalty for our wrongdoings and thereby
potentially free us
from having to pay the penalty of eternal punishment in Hell for them.
The sacrificial crucifixion of Jesus makes such salvation possible, but
other conditions, such as reacting to Jesus in appropriate ways, must be
in place before we can actually receive it.
[
2] One might object to the idea that God intended,
planned, or otherwise set things up so that the crucifixion would occur;
perhaps God merely foresaw and/or allowed it. But this objection is
problematic in at least two ways. First, it would make the inception of
Christianity
an accident—something that just happened rather than
something that God intended. Yet this seems like an unacceptable result
for Christianity. Moreover, this objection at best merely forces me to
reword my arguments here, as I could replace God intending, planning, or
otherwise setting up the crucifixion with him only foreseeing and
allowing it, and then run structurally identical arguments.
[
3] The first of these passages from Luke, where
Jesus famously says, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they
do," is a rather curious one. Why would Jesus ask God to forgive his
aggressors if Jesus knows that his crucifixion is
God's will? If
Jesus' aggressors are doing exactly what they are supposed to do, and
Jesus knows this, then it makes no sense for Jesus to ask God to forgive
his aggressors for what they are doing. Moreover, if the inception of
Christianity was something that God willed, then Jesus' aggressors had
no choice in crucifying him. So Jesus asking God to forgive his
aggressors is an inappropriate request because forgiving these
aggressors would only be appropriate if they had wronged him of their
own accord, rather than being forced to do so by God's will.
[
4] Actually, we must take for granted more than God
simply taking human form and having himself crucified. We must also take
for granted that God modified himself so that he could fit inside a
woman's womb for nine months or so, and that he ruled the universe while
inside.
[
5] A Christian apologist might deny that some of our
offenses are really offenses against other humans. Taking a cue from
St. Paul (
1 Corinthians 3:16-17,
6:19-20),
the apologist might claim that humans are God's temples, and as such
belong to God. To put it in modern terms, as temples of God we humans do
not own ourselves—we do not have property rights over our own bodies
and persons. Instead, God owns us, or has property rights over us.
Accordingly, we do not ever really wrong other people, but instead wrong
God by failing to respect his property rights over other people. Yet
this line of reasoning is morally outrageous: even if God existed, he
would not own us, or have property rights over us. If there is anything
in the world that each of us owns, or that each of us has property
rights over, it is our own body and person.
[
6] Isn't there something a bit peculiar about the
possibility of wronging God so badly that we deserve eternal burning in
Hell? How can we puny little humans wrong a supreme being such as God
that badly? Humans are fragile, vulnerable creatures—but God is a mighty
fortress!
[
7] William Lane Craig, "Theistic Critiques of Atheism" in
The Cambridge Companion to Atheism ed. Michael Martin (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 71.
[
8] The Christian apologist might be tempted to
respond as follows. God is definitely interested in forming loving
relationships with us, but he is also fundamentally interested in people
freely entering into these relationships with him, as these
relationships would have no value if they were not chosen freely.
However, freely entering into these relationships with God requires that
it not be obvious or certain that he exists, which in turn requires the
plethora of severe evil we find in the world. Far from frustrating his
goal of forming loving relationships with people, then, God's permitting
or creating this plethora of severe evil is actually required by his
goal.
However, this response is problematic in several respects. First,
even if it were true at every step of the way, it would make God's goal
of forming loving relationships with people a rather ridiculous one. For
while his goal would require that he permit or create a plethora of
severe evil, this requirement would in turn extensively undermine
another requirement of the goal—namely, the belief in God's existence.
This goal would thus require things that are in deep tension with each
other, making it a rather ridiculous one to adopt. Moreover, and more
importantly, this response is not true at every step of the way. For one
thing, it is false that freely entering into loving relationships with
others requires that it not be obvious or certain that they exist. The
obvious existence of our significant others, children, pets, other
family members, and closest friends clearly does not preclude our freely
entering into loving relationships with them (assuming, of course, that
we do this in the first place). Finally, even if it were true that
freely entering into a loving relationship with God required that it not
be obvious or certain that he exists, it is patently false that a
plethora of severe evil is required to ensure that it is not obvious or
certain that God exists, as other things can accomplish this. For
example, God could keep silent and hidden from everyone, never speaking
or making his presence felt, and never allowing anyone to have religious
experiences of him. This would ensure that his existence is not obvious
or certain. Then there are atheistic arguments that do not rely on the
existence of severe evil—like arguments purporting to show that the
concept of God is an incoherent one—that can also make it uncertain and
not obvious that God exists.
[
9] I think an analogy might be helpful here. Suppose
that you believe that each time you drive your car for an hour, you
cure a new person of cancer. Suppose further that driving your car for
an hour has psychological benefits—it relaxes you, thereby reducing your
stress, and has antidepressant properties. Now suppose that you drive
your car for an hour in order to cure a person of cancer. That is, the
reason
that you drive your car for an hour is that it will cure a person of
cancer. Since driving your car obviously has no such effect, what you
are doing is absurd, and this is so even though you still reap the
psychological benefits as unintended byproducts. But now suppose that
you drive your car for an hour in order to reap the psychological
benefits of doing so. This time the reason that you drive your car for
an hour is that it will give you these benefits, and so it is
pro tanto
reasonable to drive for an hour in this case. These two different cases
show that even though the psychological benefits that you gain from
driving your car for an hour do constitute good reasons to do so,
driving your car for an hour is reasonable only if you drive your car
for an hour specifically because it will give you the psychological
benefits. If you do not drive your car for these benefits, but just
happen to accrue them while driving your car for an hour in order to
cure a person of cancer, then what you are doing is still absurd given
that driving your car for an hour has no such curative powers.
[
10] There are many forms that this divine
predetermination can take: God predestines everything, everything
unfolds according to God's plan, God has infallibly formed everything,
and so on. When I talk about divine predetermination, I mean to refer to
any of these beliefs/claims or to comparable ones.
[
11] Like the ones just presented, most of the remaining absurdities in this section will consist of
beliefs
that are absurd to simultaneously hold. But it should be kept in the
back of your mind that it is just as absurd for religious people, texts,
or traditions to
present or claim the contents of these beliefs as simultaneously true.
[
12] Briefly, two of these problems are the
following. First, none of those that believe that all other religions
are Satanic lies could give us a reason to believe them over the
adherents of the other religions that say the exact same thing about
their religious rivals. Second, and more importantly, none of those that
believe that all other religions are Satanic lies can give us a good
reason to believe their position over the equally (if not more)
plausible possibility
that all religions are Satanic lies.
[
13] The belief that God tests us is absurd in its
own right (independently of the belief in divine predetermination). We
genuinely test people in order to find out what they will do in response
to something, which is not known in advance of testing. In other words,
genuinely testing others is undertaken to
gain knowledge. However, since God is all-knowing by definition, there is
never any knowledge for God to gain, and thus no genuine testing of others.
Appendix: The Absurdity of the Theistic Metaethic
Let's begin with a recap of the theistic metaethic itself. It claims
that the moral status of a thing depends on God's attitude of approval
or disapproval such that:
- God's approval, and only his approval, makes things morally good/obligatory.
- God's disapproval, and only his disapproval, makes things morally bad/impermissible.[1]
Now, if the moral statuses of things were dependent on God's
attitudes in this way, then God's moral perfection would be no
exception: God would be morally perfect because, and only because, he
approves of himself. But this is a very unpalatable account of
why
God is morally perfect. On this account, God is not morally perfect
because of his nature—or because of other, more fundamental properties
that he has. He is not morally perfect because he is maximally just,
kind, compassionate, honest, and so on. Nor is he morally perfect
because he always acts in the right way and is always properly motivated
to do so. Instead, his moral perfection is held hostage to his own
self-evaluation, which is problematic for at least two reasons. First,
it locates only one factor—God's attitudes—that determines moral
perfection, yet this factor is not appropriate for determining moral
perfection. Moral excellence is determined by an agent's behavior,
character traits, and motives—not by the reactions or evaluations of any
agent. At best those reactions or evaluations
track moral excellence—they do not
ground or constitute it in any way.
[2]
Second, this account of God's moral perfection runs into the following dilemma: either self-approval
per se
makes one morally perfect, or only God's self-approval makes him
morally perfect. Now surely the first horn of the dilemma is not
acceptable, or else anyone—including Satan—could just approve him- or
herself into moral perfection. So the proponent of this account must
turn to the second horn. But then he faces a difficult, if not
impossible, task—to give a satisfactory account of why God
alone
can be morally perfect just by having an attitude of self-approval. Why
is it that God can approve himself into moral perfection, but no one
else can? Our imagined proponent cannot say that there is anything
morally special about God that allows him to do so; for this would be
attributing a morally special status to God that exists
prior to
his self-approval—a status that cannot exist according to this account,
since it has all moral status dependent on, and thus posterior to, God's
attitudes of approval and disapproval. Our imagined proponent cannot
respond that God can do this because he is God, as that would explain
nothing. It would merely invite the retort: "Okay, so what is it about
God that allows him alone to do this? God is a unique being, but so is
everyone else! So there must be something about God—something specific
that sets him apart from everyone else—that allows him to approve
himself into moral perfection. And that something is what you must
provide in order for your account to be plausible."
Another problematic consequence of this theistic metaethic in
relation to God's moral perfection pertains to how it affects the modal
status of God's possession of this property. Recall, first, the obvious
implication of (1) discussed in
note 2:
that God's self-approval, and only his self-approval, makes God morally
perfect. But this then means that God's moral perfection stands or
falls with his self-approval—i.e., that it is his self-approval, or lack
thereof, that makes him either morally perfect, or morally imperfect,
respectively. It therefore follows from (1) that:
- If God did not approve of himself, then that would make him not morally perfect.
- If God changed his attitude of approval towards himself, then that
would make him morally perfect at one time and not so at another time.
But these entailments tell us that there are circumstances under
which God is made less than morally perfect, which in turn means that
God is not morally perfect
essentially or necessarily.
[3]
Yet this is patently false: God is morally perfect by definition, and
therefore must always be morally perfect no matter what the
circumstances.
Things become worse for this theistic metaethic when we consider it
beyond its account of God's moral perfection. Recall again its basic
claims:
- God's approval, and only his approval, makes things morally good/obligatory.
- God's disapproval, and only his disapproval, makes things morally bad/impermissible.
Now, according to (1), God's approval is enough to make things morally good/obligatory. So (1) entails that:
- If God approved of horrific things like rape, torture, genocide, and
so on, then that would make those things morally good/obligatory.
And, according to (2), the moral badness/impermissibility of things
stands or falls with God's disapproval of those things—i.e., it is God's
disapproval, or lack thereof, that makes things either morally
bad/impermissible, or not, respectively. Therefore (2) entails that:
- If God failed to disapprove of horrific things like rape, torture,
genocide, and so on, then that would make them not morally
bad/impermissible.
Yet these entailments are
deeply problematic. According to
(5), God can make horrific things morally acceptable by approving of
them. But how can these horrific things be anything but morally
objectionable? Intuitively, they cannot be—it is impossible for such
horrific things to be morally acceptable. If so, then no one—not even
God—can make horrific things morally acceptable.
[4]
And this would make (5) false. Furthermore, (5) tells us that God's
approval can make horrific things morally acceptable. But how can this
be? How does God accomplish this feat of black moral magic? It is hard
to accept that this could be so without some plausible story as to
how
it could be so. And, more importantly, it is hard to accept that God's
approval could make horrific things morally acceptable in spite of the
fact that the properties of those things make them horrific. For
example, God's approval of rape, on this account, would make rape
morally acceptable despite the fact that this horrific action involves
the violation of autonomy and rights and causes profound suffering and
extensive psychological damage. It is not that these aspects of the
action would be trumped by God's approval, which of course would be
absurd. Rather, these aspects
do not matter at all on this theistic metaethic—they do not factor into the moral status of the action whatsoever. And this is just plain crazy.
Then there is (6), which is subject to the same criticisms as (5).
According to (6), horrific things would be made not morally
bad/impermissible by God's failure to disapprove of them. But again, how
can these horrific things be anything but morally objectionable? If
horrific things cannot be anything but morally objectionable—and
intuitively they cannot be—then they would certainly be morally
objectionable even in the absence of God's disapproval of them. So (6),
like (5), is false. Moreover, how can God's failure to disapprove of
horrific things make them not morally bad/impermissible? How could this
happen despite the properties of those things that make them horrific?
Take again the example of rape. On this account, God's failure to
disapprove of rape would make it not morally objectionable despite the
fact that it involves the violation of autonomy and rights and causes
profound suffering and extensive psychological damage. Once again, these
aspects of the action do not factor into its moral status at all, which
again is just plain crazy.
[5]
The final problem with this theistic metaethic that I will discuss is its violation of
the supervenience constraint.
[6]
If there is one thing that most moral philosophers agree on, it is that
moral properties supervene on more fundamental, nonmoral properties.
And this is the supervenience constraint: the moral properties of things
must supervene on the nonmoral properties of those things. This means
that the moral properties of those things are strictly fixed or
determined by their nonmoral properties. Put as a conditional, it means
this: if two things have the same nonmoral properties, then they
must
have the same moral properties. The flip side is that if two things
differ in their moral properties, then they must also differ in their
nonmoral properties. What is ruled out by the supervenience constraint,
then, is a situation where two things have the exact same nonmoral
properties, yet have different moral properties. However, if the
theistic metaethic in question were correct, and the moral properties of
things were completely dependent on God's attitudes of approval and
disapproval towards those things, then two things with identical
nonmoral properties could theoretically have different moral properties.
Put another way, this metaethic entails the following conditional: if
there were two things with the exact same nonmoral properties, and God
approved of one while disapproving of the other, then these things would
have different moral properties even though they had the exact same
nonmoral properties. But this conditional cannot be true according to
the supervenience constraint. Again, this constraint rules out a
situation where two things have the exact same nonmoral properties, yet
have different moral properties. This situation cannot obtain,
period,
which means that it will not obtain even if God were to have different
evaluative attitudes towards two things with the exact same nonmoral
properties.
[7]
Notes to the Appendix
[
1] Sometimes this theistic metaethic is presented as the view that the moral features of our world are dependent on God's
commands
as opposed to his attitudes of approval and disapproval (indeed this
metaethic is standardly referred to as "divine command metaethics").
There is also room for a more sophisticated variation of this metaethic,
where moral goodness and badness are dependent on God's attitudes of
approval and disapproval, respectively, while moral obligations and
constraints are dependent on God's commands. Nothing substantial,
however, really hangs on these minor differences; the problems with
viewing the moral features of our world as dependent on God's attitudes
of approval and disapproval will apply with equal force, and for the
same reasons, to viewing the moral features of our world as dependent on
God's commands, or on some combination of his attitudes and commands.
[
2] One might object that even though God is morally
perfect because he approves of himself, he is nonetheless also morally
perfect because of things like being maximally just, kind,
compassionate, honest, and always acting in the right way with the
proper motivation for doing so. How could someone maintain this? Well,
one might argue that although God is morally perfect because of his
self-approval, God approves of himself because of these other things,
and thus it is ultimately these other things that ground his moral
perfection. So, the argument goes, this account of God's moral
perfection is unproblematic. But this objection does not work. Recall
that, according to this theistic metaethic, it is God's approval, and
only his approval, that makes things morally good. And this obviously
implies that it is God's self-approval, and only his self-approval, that
makes God himself morally perfect. The character traits, actions, and
motivations that move him to self-approval are not doing any independent
metaphysical work. They do not
make God morally perfect—only God's reaction of self-approval does.
Consider the following analogous scenario. Suppose that my car is
being repossessed and that I am very upset about it. The person
repossessing it—let's call him Dick—is smiling at me in order to let me
know that he is thoroughly enjoying the distress that he is causing me.
As he climbs in my car to drive it away, all the while smiling at me, I
decide to flip him off until he drives away. Now, while I was flipping
off Dick, he was a-thing-flipped-off. It was my flipping him off,
and only this, that
made
him into a-thing-flipped-off. Sure, I was flipping him off because he
was smiling at me like a jerk while repossessing my car, but his
behavior did not really
make him a-thing-flipped-off—only my reaction of flipping him off did so.
Another way of putting the problem with this objection is that it
basically equivocates on the meaning of "because": the sense in which
God approves of himself
because of his character traits, actions, and motivations is not the same sense in which he is morally perfect
because
he approves of himself. On the second meaning, God is morally perfect
because he approves of himself in the sense that his self-approval
automatically makes
him morally perfect. In more technical terms, "because" here signifies a
relation of automatic metaphysical determination between God's
self-approval and his moral perfection such that the former
metaphysically necessitates the latter. On the first meaning, however,
God approves of himself because of his character traits, actions, and
motivations in the sense that the former is a reflective, evaluative
attitude triggered by the latter, such that the latter does not
automatically make the former happen. The "because" here signifies no
relation of automatic metaphysical determination between God's character
traits, actions, and motivations and his self-approval such that the
former metaphysically necessitates the latter. In the end, then, God's
character traits, actions, and motivations do not automatically make him
morally perfect—there is no relation of metaphysical necessitation
between God's character traits, actions, and motivations and his moral
perfection. And this is precisely the problem with this account of God's
moral perfection.
[
3] It will do no good to complain that God would
never in fact fail to approve of himself or change his attitudes of
approval towards himself, and therefore that God would never in fact be
made less than morally perfect. The problem here is that the theistic
metaethic in question implies that there are
theoretically possible
circumstances in which God would be made less than morally perfect, and
this does not change even if such circumstances would never in fact
obtain. To put the point another way: circumstances in which God is made
less than morally perfect must be ruled out in theory, and ruling out
these circumstances
in fact does not rule them out in theory.
[
4] God's inability to make horrific things morally
acceptable is perfectly consistent with his omnipotence, for being
omnipotent just means that one can do anything that is genuinely
possible. Since making horrific things morally acceptable is not
genuinely possible, God can still be omnipotent even though he cannot
make horrific things morally acceptable.
[
5] I want to point out two things here. First, the same things can be said,
mutatis mutandis,
about great things instead of horrific things. That is, (1) entails the
mirror image of (6), where God's failure to approve of great things
would make them not morally good/obligatory, while (2) entails the
mirror image of (5), where God's disapproval of great things would make
them morally bad/impermissible. And the same criticisms of (5) and (6)
can be leveled,
mutatis mutandis, to these mirror image
entailments pertaining to great things. Second, and more importantly, it
will do no good to object to this line of criticism by maintaining that
God would never (a) approve or fail to disapprove of horrific things,
or (b) disapprove or fail to approve of great things. Whether or not God
would never do these things is completely beside the point. The
fundamental problem here is with
the metaphysical relations
between God's attitudes and the moral statuses of things entailed by
this theistic metaethic, and this problem is not solved in the slightest
by pointing out that God's attitudes will never be a certain way.
Perhaps an analogy is in order. Suppose that Jones holds a very bizarre
worldview, one that entails that every time that he votes for a
Republican presidential candidate, he kills a puppy by doing so. Suppose
further that he has a ready-made response to possible objections: that
he would never vote for a Republican presidential candidate. It should
be obvious that this ready-made response is completely worthless
because, even if true, it does not at all render unproblematic his
worldview's implication that there is a metaphysical relation between
Jones voting Republican and his killing puppies.
[
6] David O. Brink, "The Autonomy of Ethics" in
The Cambridge Companion to Atheism ed. Michael Martin (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 153.
[
7] It would again do no good to object here by
maintaining that God would never in fact have different evaluative
attitudes towards things with the exact same nonmoral properties. The
problem here is with the conditional that the theistic metaethic in
question generates. In particular, even if its antecedent will never be
true, the conditional itself is still true according to this metaethic,
and
this is the problem.
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