2.
First Cause Argument. This is Aquinas’s second way. All effects in the universe have causes. The universe itself must have a cause. But this cause-and-effect sequence cannot be regressed forever, so there had to be a first cause, a causal agent who needed no other cause. “Therefore it is necessary to admit a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name of God.”
Counterargument. This is essentially the prime mover argument rephrased. And, as in the problem with the prime mover argument, God must be within the universe or is the universe. In either case, God would himself need to be caused, and thus the regress to a first cause just begs the question of what caused God. If God does not need a cause, then clearly not everything in the universe needs a cause. Maybe the universe itself does not need a cause. Perhaps, as cosmologist Alan Guth suggests in his 1997 book The Inflationary Universe, it just sprang into existence out of a quantum vacuum, uncaused.
3.
Possibility and Necessity Argument. Aquinas’s third way argues that in nature it is possible for things to be or not to be. But not everything could be in the realm of the possible, for then there could be nothing. If there were at one time nothing, then the universe could not have come into existence. “Therefore we must admit the existence of some being having of itself its own necessity, and not receiving it from another, but rather causing in others their necessity. This all men speak of as God.”
Counterargument. Why is it not equally plausible that God, like the universe, is possible but not necessary? As Stephen Hawking likes to ask in his books and lectures: “Why does the universe bother to exist at all? Why should there be something rather than nothing?” No one knows. It is entirely possible that the universe, including God, did not need to come into existence. The problem here is that the human mind is incapable of conceiving of nothing (in the universal sense), and therefore this argument falls into what Martin Gardner calls a mysterian mystery—it is not just unknown, it is unknowable with the minds we possess. Evolution provided us with a big enough brain to ask such profound questions, but not big enough to answer them. This is an argument neither for nor against God.
4.
The Perfection/Ontological Argument. Aquinas argued in his fourth way that there are gradations from less to more good, true, and noble. “There is then, something which is truest, something best, something noblest. Therefore there must also be something which is to all beings the cause of their being, goodness, and every other perfection. And this we call God.” This is known as the ontological argument and was first presented by St. Anselm, the eleventh-century archbishop of Canterbury, who in his Proslogion defined God as “something than which nothing greater can be conceived.” Even a “fool” can understand this, says Anselm (referencing Psalm 14:1, “the fool hath said in his heart, There is no God”):
For if it is actually in the understanding alone, it can be thought of as existing also in reality, and this is greater. Therefore, if that than which a greater cannot be thought is in the understanding alone, this same thing than which a greater cannot be thought is that than which a greater can be thought. But obviously this is impossible. Without doubt, therefore, there exists, both in the understanding and in reality, something than which a greater cannot be thought.
Reversing the argument, Anselm says it is equally impossible to think of God as nonexistent:
For something can be thought of as existing, which cannot be thought of as not existing, and this is greater than that which can be thought of as not existing. Thus, if that than which a greater cannot be thought can be thought of as not existing, this very thing than which a greater cannot be thought is not that than which a greater cannot be thought. But this is contradictory. So, then, there truly is a being than that which a greater cannot be thought—so truly that it cannot even be thought of as not existing.
Counterargument. Anselm’s somewhat confusing logical twists and turns are examples of the word play often found in these arguments. What does it mean to be perfect? Obviously no human can know, yet we are the creators of the concept itself. We can envision some maximal level of perfection and then argue that God must be above this, but what does that mean? No human can possibly know. And why couldn’t an argument antithetical to Anselm’s be made?: There is then, something which is falsest, something worst, something ignoblest. Therefore there must also be something that is to all beings the cause of falsity, badness, and ignobility. And this we call God.
Further, continuing the Flatland analogy from Chapter 1, why couldn’t God, who is said to be omniscient, conceive of something even greater than perfection? The square thought the sphere the highest state of being, until he became a cube and realized there could be still higher states. The upper boundary of perfection is simply defined as such by our admittedly limited human mind. Does it not seem reasonable to argue that whatever state of “perfection” we might imagine, there could conceivably be a higher state? As with the concept of infinity, whatever number the mind can create as the seemingly largest, you can always add one to it. Why stop at God?
As for it being impossible to think of God as nonexistent, it seems equally impossible to think of nonexistence at all. Is it really possible to conceive of absolutely nothing—no galaxies, no stars, no planets, no life, no molecules, no atoms, no space, no time, no energy—no anything? The concept is epistemologically void. It neither proves nor disproves anything.
5.
The Design/Teleological Argument. Aquinas’s fifth way deals with “the governance of things.” Since “natural bodies act for an end,” and yet lack knowledge, they must have been designed. “Therefore some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are ordered to their end; and this being we call God.” Modern design arguments are more sophisticated and involve the intricacies of design in nature, such as symbiotic relationships between organisms like insects and flowers, or the apparent “anthropic” design of the cosmos—that is, it is precisely suited for the evolution of life.
Counterargument. Design arguments from nature are untenable by the simple fact that nature is not as beautifully designed nor as “perfect” as believers would have us think. The python’s hind legs—unarticulated bones buried in flesh and totally useless—are indications of quirky and contingent evolution, not divine creation. Similarly, the whale’s flipper—complete with useless humanlike upper arm, forearm, hand and finger bones—is obviously the evolutionary by-product of mammalian evolution, not the handiwork of a divine Geppetto. The anthropic cosmological principle will be dealt with below in the section on scientific arguments for God, but suffice it to say that any universe with the configuration that gives rise to pattern-seeking animals will appear designed, and those universes with laws that do not lead to life will not appear designed.
6.
The Miracles Argument. The miracles of the Bible, as well as those of modern times, cannot be accounted for by science or natural law, therefore they must have as their cause a higher power. This higher power is God. C. S. Lewis defined a miracle as “an interference with Nature by supernatural power.” In fact, Lewis admits, “unless there exists, in addition to Nature, something else which we may call the supernatural, there can be no miracles.”
Counterargument. A miracle—as so well displayed in Sidney Harris’s cartoon in which a scientist inserts the phrase “and then a miracle occurs” in the middle of a long string of equations—is really just a name for something we cannot explain. This is the “God of the gaps” argument, but as soon as we are able to fill the gap with an explanation, it is no longer a miracle. If Jesus’ walking on water is shown to be nothing more than a desert mirage, or the exaggerated tale of enthusiastic proselytizers, it is no longer a miracle. Additionally, how could you ever “prove” a miracle? It seems rather unlikely that one could prove that Jesus suspended the laws of nature that determine the surface tension of water (or of gravity, or whatever). The point of miracles is to inspire the faithful with religious reverence. One does no
t prove a miracle; one believes a miracle on faith, which is exactly how religion should be believed.
7.
Pascal’s Wager Argument. At the age of thirty-one the French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal had what he termed a “mystical experience” that changed his life. Not content to rest his belief entirely in the mystical (and knowing this would never convince fellow skeptics such as René Descartes), he formulated what has become known as Pascal’s wager. If we wager that God does not exist and he does, then we have everything to lose and nothing to win. If we wager that God does exist and he does, then we have everything to gain and nothing to lose. Pascal was not naive enough to believe that people would then just place the bet, or that God would just accept the gamblers into His heavenly casino. He realized that belief comes through action so he argued that you also needed to go through the motions by attending Mass and taking the sacraments, and in time you would come to really believe. In the jargon of social psychology, you would shift from “conformity” to “internalization,” incorporating God into your core of deeply held beliefs.
Counterargument. First, this is not actually a proof of God since Pascal himself admitted that one still needs faith. Second, believing in God and going through the motions of attending church, praying, taking the sacraments, and so forth, is not a case of “nothing to lose.” There is plenty to lose, including the time and effort it takes to do all this when one could be doing something else. Finally, what if there were some other higher intelligence, even more powerful than God, and His sacraments included some of the more earthly pleasures? Not only would you be missing out on these, you might be eternally punished for placing the wrong wager or choosing the wrong God. This may sound unlikely, but from a purely objective point of view it is no more illogical than the existence of a Judaeo-Christian God.
8.
The Mystical Experience Argument. This is the ultimate close encounter with God himself, directly and experientially: “I know God exists because I have experienced him.” Bill Wilson, founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, reported just such an experience when he got on his knees and said, “If there is a God, let him show himself now.” Wilson describes what happened next:
Suddenly the room lit up, with a bright white light. I was caught up in an ecstasy for which there are no words to describe. It seemed to me in the mind’s eye that I was on a mountain, that a wind, not of air, but of the spirit was blowing and then it burst upon me that I was in another world of consciousness. All about me and through me was a wonderful presence and I thought to myself, “so this is the God of the preachers.”
Such mystical experiences and conversions are not uncommon in history. Constantine’s “vision” at the Milvian Bridge, preceding his victory over Maxentius in A.D. 312, cemented the Christian religion into his worldview and into our world. Augustine heard voices telling him, “Pick it up, read it; pick it up, read it!” upon which “I got to my feet … to open the Bible and read the first passage I should light upon.” The passage told him to sell his belongings and give the money to the poor. This he did, and as he notes in his Confessions, “as the sentence ended, there was infused in my heart something like the light of full certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished away.” John Calvin reported in his Commentary on the Psalms that he had “a sudden conversion.” Martin Luther was reportedly struck to the ground by a lightning bolt and cried in terror: “St. Anne, help me! I will become a monk.”
Counterargument. As we saw in the previous chapter, these experiences are most probably the result of temporal lobe seizures or some other aberration in brain physiology. But it is the weakest of the so-called proofs of God, since not only is it not really a proof, it relies on personal experience, which by definition cannot be shared with others. I made the argument myself when I was a born-again Christian, and tried it out on my philosophy professor, Richard Hardison, who responded with a statement to our philosophy class that provides a potent refutation:
The goals of a society that you have valued, and the achievements of the people that you have respected, have depended on objectivity. Even the occasional mystic who impressed you, stepped out of his mysticism when he made the analysis that you read. His very communication, by the nature of communication, was objective. Mystical “truths” by their very nature, must be solely personal. They can have no possible external validation. Nor can they produce any possible communication with those who do not share the particular mysticism. There is a fundamental flaw in all mysticisms: the mystic often seeks external support of his position and in the process, denies his mysticism.
9.
Fideism, or the Credo Quia Consolans Argument. Of all the philosophical arguments for God, perhaps this stands up the best since it does not attempt to be a proof at all. Instead it is quite honest in its admission of the personal nature of belief. It says simply: “I believe because it is consoling.” In his book, The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener, Martin Gardner defines and defends fideism at length. It is a pragmatic argument, taken from the philosophers William James, Charles Peirce, and Miguel Unamuno. At its core it says that (1) in issues of extreme importance to human existence, (2) when the evidence is inconclusive one way or the other, and (3) you must make a choice, it is acceptable to take a leap of faith. Martin Gardner, the skeptic of all skeptics, is a fideist. He even admits that atheists have slightly better arguments than theists. But for personal, emotional reasons he was willing to make the leap.
Counterargument. One flaw in this argument is that it is based on the philosophy of pragmatism, which states that knowledge is valid if it “works” for you. But this does not necessarily apply to all ideas, including God. Some things we really can know, based on external validation. Another flaw is that fideism reduces belief to personality type. As recent research into personality development shows, one’s acceptance or rejection of ideas is as much a function of one’s family dynamics and personality characteristics as it is of empirical evidence. If beliefs are going to be based on emotion rather than argument or evidence, it would seem to eliminate the need for reason and science altogether. Why draw the line at some belief just because it feels good? Why not just say that God is an unknowable concept, an unsolvable mystery, and go about your life without the need for proofs?
10.
The Moral Argument. Humans are moral beings and animals are not. Where did we get this moral drive? Through the ultimate moral being—God. Without God, without the highest of higher moral authorities, anything goes and there would be no reason to be moral.
Counterargument. The argument that we cannot be good without God is easily refuted through a simple and straightforward question: What would you do if there were no God? The question can be followed by an additional question that draws the denouement: Would you commit deception, robbery, rape, and murder, or would you continue being a good and moral person? Either way the argument is over. If the answer is that people would quickly turn to deception, robbery, rape, or murder, then this is a moral indictment of their character, indicating they are not to be trusted because if, for any reason, they turn away from their belief in God (and most people do at some point in their lives), the plug is pulled on their constraints and their true immoral nature is revealed; we would be well advised to steer a wide course around them. If the answer is that people would continue being good and moral, then apparently you can be good without God.
SCIENTIFIC ARGUMENTS FOR GOD
Scientifically based arguments that claim to prove the existence of God fall in the gray borderlands between science and philosophy, physics and metaphysics, and lie mostly in the realm of cosmology, in the study of the fundamental laws of nature, or in the complexities of the biological world. The first two fall into what might be called “The New Cosmology,” and the last might be thought of as “The New Creationism.”
THE NEW COSMOLOGY
Most of the new cosmological arguments for God’s existence are made by creationists such as Hugh Ross, whose series of book
s on The Creator and the Cosmos, Creation and Time, and Beyond the Cosmos argue “how the greatest scientific discoveries of the century reveal God.” Ross’s books are published by and for Christians, and are specifically written such that, as noted on the book jacket of the first installment, “whether you’re looking for scientific support for your faith or new reasons to believe,” these works “will enable you to see the Creator for yourself.” Ross is, in fact, the president of Reasons to Believe, a nonprofit Christian corporation whose purpose, as gleaned from its name, is to provide believers with reasons to reinforce their faith. Among the strongest, he argues, are those from cosmology.
Many non-Christians also find cosmological arguments compelling. It may not be the God of Abraham in focus in the Hubble telescope, but behind the laws of nature, outside the large-scale structure of the universe, and inside the small-scale structure of the atom, lurks a higher intelligence, a spark of divinity. At the politically conservative American Enterprise Institute, for example, English literature scholar Patrick Glynn penned God: The Evidence, a more sophisticated presentation than Ross’s but at the core presenting a similar set of arguments: The anthropic principle implies a creator, religious belief leads to greater physical and mental wellness, and near-death experiences prove there is an afterlife. Although Glynn is calling for “the reconciliation of faith and reason,” he abandons the latter because “reason has proved an imperfect guide to the ultimate truths about the physical world, let alone the ultimate truths about the universe and human life.” In the end, “reason rediscovers and reconstructs … what Spirit already knows.” Of course, Glynn is using reason to bolster what his spirit already knows—that God exists. Rather than a reconciliation of faith and reason, it is faith in search of reasons to believe. In addition to this being a pointless exercise since faith cannot be proved, his reasons are not sound. The anthropic principle only implies that there is order in the universe (more on this later); religious belief may or may not lead to greater physical and mental wellness, but if it does, it is for perfectly understandable reasons, such as a social support system that encourages healthier living; and near-death experiences no more prove there is an afterlife than do hypnosis, hallucinations, or other altered states of consciousness.
How We Believe, 2nd Ed. Page 15