Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov – at least the chapters "Rebellion" and "The Grand Inquisitor" – should be required reading for anyone who wants to address the Problem of Evil.
If the Problem of Evil doesn't cause the theist to lose sleep at night, then he either doesn't understand the Problem of Evil, is incredibly naive, or calloused. Most of us who have the good fortune of discussing the Problem of Evil in the higher echelons of education have not encountered the deepest depths of suffering and evil existentially (as indicated by the fact of said good fortune). How can we possibly understand the reason behind why some people spend their entire earthly existence in excruciating pain, anguish and torment we have not known in our own flesh, the likes of which human language cannot express fully?
Likewise, how can we, with our "earthly, Euclidian understanding," comprehend eternity? If there is an "eternity" as the theist believes, then the 70 or so years we spend on earth is merely a "flicker of a candle's flame," and even the deepest depths of suffering and evil we experience now could be comparable to a tiny scratch in light of eternity. How can we possibly understand the reason behind why god allows people to spend their earthly existence in such suffering and pain? Integrity demands that theist and atheist alike admit one’s ignorance on such a concept as eternity, which, again, human language cannot express fully.
The theist must admit his ignorance concerning the magnitude and intensity of suffering and evil in the world. I am plagued by Ivan Karamazov, particularly his mentioning the suffering of children. What possible long-term benefit can there be from a three year old with a distended stomach, dying of starvation, for no other reason than he has no food to eat? The theist does not – and I argue he cannot – know what good can come of such a thing; furthermore, any good that can come from the seemingly senseless and preventable torture of a child could most likely have been achieved another way.
I disagree with the premise that, if there is an all-good and all-powerful god, then suffering of any kind cannot exist. I know from my own experience that, if god were to come down and tell me he's going to take away all the pain, suffering and loss I've experienced in my life, I would politely, yet adamantly, decline the offer. I realize that I have become who I am today because of my pain. Couldn't an omnipotent god have done things a different way? Maybe not, if we are in fact beings who possess volition, and certainly not with a stubborn bastard like me. I have learned most of the important lessons of life the hard way. I say this with the understanding that there are much greater depths of suffering and evil than I have ever experienced, and if I were facing such suffering I would definitely take god up on his offer.
But I ask the theist to take a good look at that suffering, dying child. Consider that his life will be defined by torment, and all he will know in the short span of his life is misery and despair. How can this fit into the wonderful plan of an all-powerful, entirely benevolent god? Doesn't it make more sense to think that god is either not all-powerful, not entirely benevolent, or not there? At the very least one should be compelled to question the traditional assumptions of god’s nature and plan.
The theist might respond: "But that child will be with god in heaven after he dies. Then he will experience unimaginable joy."
If I were going to allow a child to suffer through excruciating pain which I could stop easily but choose not to, and only after years of such torment would I give him all the happiness and comfort he could ever hope for, would I be acting morally by allowing the pain? What if I beat my wife mercilessly for the first three years of our marriage, and afterward buy her a mansion and give her everything she's ever wanted? Would that make me a good husband?
Dead-Logic.com
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Considering the Problem of Evil (part two)
Considering the Problem of Evil (part one)
In a discussion on the Problem of Evil, a theist wrote the following:
In an atheist worldview there is, essentially, no problem of natural evil at all. That is, evil does not exist in an atheist world because there can be no such thing as objective evil in such a view. Indeed, one might call hurricane Katrina a natural evil (arbitrarily) but this would be mere opinion. Some might argue that such events are actually good (for varying reasons). Secondly, it is possible that such "natural" catastrophes take place due to the fall of man, or, for reasons beyond our current knowledge and thus we ought to suspend judgment as to POE being an argument against the existence of God.
Personally, I think The Problem of Evil is not a problem at all (at least in the traditional sense that the argument has been used against theism). The reason I say this is because only under a theistic worldview can we rationally call something an objective evil. Any other attempt to call something evil winds up being arbitrary and mere opinion and in this way I think the obvious existence of evil in the world actually provides evidence in the opposite direction. That is, being that we know there is objective evil there must then be some objective standard by which that evil exists. I am persuaded that the existence of evil provides us with strong evidence that there is an intelligent objective designer that stands as a standard of what is evil and what is good.

I wrote the following response:
Is something evil or good because god says so, or does god say so because it's evil or good? If it's the former, then evil and good are arbitrary. If it's the latter, then there is a standard that exists above god, to which even god is subject. This is known as the "Euthyphro Dilemma."
Let's assume for sake of discussion that you are correct and objective evil exists only if there is a god. That still doesn't address the problem, which is the existence of both an all-good, all-powerful god and evil. Saying that evil exists only if god exists doesn't answer what many see as a contradiction. Think of it like this:
A = "An all-good, all powerful god exists."
E = "Evil exists."
The Problem of Evil goes something like this:
Premise one: If A, then not E.
Premise two: E.
Conclusion: Therefore, not A. (via modus tollens)
You respond with:
Premise 1: If not A, then not E.
Premise 2: E.
Conclusion: Therefore, A.
Not only is this argument fallacious (committing the fallacy of Improper Transition, to be precise), the premise "If not A, then not E" doesn't answer at all what we should expect to find "if A." You say, "If not A, then not E." A non-theist could say, "So what? If A, then not E." Even if you’re correct (and for the record, I don’t think you are), your argument is irrelevant.
Dead-Logic.com
Saturday, December 26, 2009
A Practical Atheist
I preached many sermons during my time as a minister, most of them long forgotten. One sermon, however, has remained with me. Here is an excerpt from a message I gave nearly ten years ago:
Who Are You Really? You can say you are anything, but that doesn't mean you really are what you say you are. You can say you are the point guard for the Chicago Bulls. You can tell everyone you see that you were the first man on the moon. You can say a lot of things, but what matters is what you do. You can say you believe in god and trust him in all things. If that is what you say, let me ask you a few questions:
Do you pray? Do you read the Bible? Do you attend church regularly? Do you give of your time and finances to the work of god? Do you trust god in all areas of your life? Do you seek god's wisdom and counsel for the decisions of your life? Do you seek to do his will in all things? I ask these questions because Matthew 7:20 says, "by their fruit you will recognize them." While false prophets are the ones referred to specifically in this passage, the implication is that what a person does - one's fruit - is what truly matters, not merely what a person says.
Poignant questions, if I do say so myself. Questions I need to ask myself today. This sermon comes to mind after doing a lot of thinking about what I should call myself. The label I use should reflect what I think. I'm comfortable with the label agnostic. I'm also partial to freethinker. The label I've had the most difficulty accepting is atheist. I have said elsewhere that I believe in god, although at this point I think the word "belief" isn't accurate. I don't necessarily think there is a metaphysical or supernatural aspect to reality; rather, I'd like to think there is. I don't necessarily think there isn't a metaphysical or supernatural aspect either. I simply do not know. So the agnostic label suits me just fine. I know that I don't know, and I don't know that anyone else knows either. You know?
Back to my questions: Do I pray? No. Do I read the Bible? Not in any kind of "devotional time" or "personal time with god" sense of reading. Do I attend church regularly? I haven't been a regular pew-warmer since I gave up ministry. Organized religion is scary and I want nothing to do with it. Do I give of my time and finances to the work of god? No. Do I trust god in all areas of my life? No, for the same reasons I don't pray. Do I seek god's wisdom and counsel for the decisions of my life? No. I rely on the only tool I have: reason. Do I seek to do his will in all things? Not at all.
"You will know them by their fruit." Regardless of what I have said I believe, my life is - and has been for a while - atheistic, literally "without god." One might call this either "practical atheism" or "functional atheism." I've heard preachers use these terms to describe (and chastise) theists who claim to believe in god yet show no evidence of their faith in their actions.
I don't know whether there is a god or not, and if he's there I have no idea what kind of god he is, what his will would be, or even if this god has a will or plan for my life at all. If god is out there and has a plan for me, he hasn't bothered to tell me about it. The most responsible course of action I can take is to try to make the best decisions for my life based on what I actually understand. Perhaps that makes me a practical atheist, but all I'm doing is being practical.
Dead-Logic.com
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Coo Coo for Christ
I had a great idea: making Christian T-shirts that aren't stupid. This idea stemmed from my experience as a Christian in high school. After I had "found Jesus" I began accumulating a rather "Christiany" wardrobe; T-shirts mostly (although at one point I did have some bright orange "Jesus loves you" shoelaces as well), which I'd wear to school every day, like the one that said "Megalife through Prayer" imitating the logos of the bands Megadeth and Slayer. The idea was that, if I wear that shirt, I can show the metalheads that a person can be a Christian and still be cool. Yeah. Fortunately I was a black belt in Karate; otherwise, the stoners would have stuffed me in a locker for being an idiot.
I've frequented Christian bookstores, and I have never failed to see at least one shirt (usually several) with cheesy, tacky slogans on them: "Jesus Junk," much of it nothing more than a rip-off of some well-known logo or slogan. A friend of mine once owned a green T-shirt that said "Spirit" which was an imitation of the Sprite logo. He and I laugh about it to this day.
My past experience with "T-shirt witnessing" was one of the reasons I started a T-shirt business. I wanted to stay far away from anything resembling Jesus Junk. I wanted to create shirts that would get conversations started and get people to think. More importantly, I wanted to encourage Christians to think critically. I saw a severe lack of clear, concise thinking (and a lot of wild, blind irrationalism) in the Christian community, and, being a Christian at the time, I wanted to do something about it.
Perhaps a few of my shirt designs foreshadowed my eventual departure from Christian theism. Of all my designs, this one is my favorite:

So my business partner and I became an official T-shirt company called Revolve180, created an inventory of shirts and attended a number of summer Christian music events around the country.
At the event we attended in Orlando, Florida, we were one of the first vendors on the scene, and we set up early. Then we sat back and watched everyone else set up their wares. We had a few laughs at a guy sporting a shirt with a logo imitating Gatorade that said "Christade - the ULTIMATE thirst quencher." Later we found out that he was the guy who made that shirt, and was at the event selling "Christade" and other shirts.
Note the key word: selling. He was actually doing it. People would come to his booth, check out his selection, give him money and walk away with one or more of his shirts. That's how it's supposed to work, right? Well, we at the Revolve180 booth were not so much selling shirts as we were just standing around like morons while people looking for the Christade booth passed us by. He succeeded by being everything we were trying our best not to be: cheesy, corny, dumb. Apparently Christians in the market for a new shirt like cheesy and stupid slogans. Jesus Junk sells. We sold a few shirts (not even coming close to covering our expenses), but most of the time the people who paid attention to us either didn't like our designs or were looking for one of those stupid shirts the other vendor was selling. One woman came up to us hoping we were the guys who make the "Your mother was pro-life" T-shirt (I won't even get into how stupid that phrase is).
A month later I had a booth set up at an event in Ohio - this time without my partner. "Captain Christade" (as we called him) was there too. It was Orlando all over again. Of course, as I once heard someone say, "You can drag a Christian to logic, but you can't make him think." Perhaps the continued success of Jesus Junk is inevitable, Captain Christade will still sail successfully on the sea of supply and demand, and Christians will continue to purchase shirts that say things like:

Coo coo indeed.
Dead-Logic.com
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Perfect Christmas Gift
One of my closest friends is a minister... and also the person whose name I drew this year in the "Secret Santa" among my circle of friends. Now what would be the perfect gift for a Christian minister this Christmas?

God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything
by Christopher Hitchens
My gift to my friend is not only the book, but an offer to read the book with him and discuss what Hitchens has to say about god and religion. I have my copy (seen above), and now my friend has his. It'll be like our own little book club. He and I will begin our reading and discussions in January.
Dead-Logic.com
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Reflecting on the End of a Semester
The last time I was a student (i.e., a person paying a lot of money to an institution in exchange for an attempt at education), the year was 2002. Not long after that, I went through what I consider to be the depths of despair, hopelessness and (in my estimation at the time) failure. “Rock bottom” is the appropriate colloquialism here. Now, with my life mostly back in order, I have returned to school to pursue the dream I have had for years. I returned to formal education a much different person than I was before. Given that during my time of personal struggle I was a little too low on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs to spend much time in serious philosophical inquiry, returning to school - taking Philosophy of Religion as one of my courses - forced me to inquire, thrusting me back into the habit of the examined life, and thus face myself as I am now. This rattled me, to say the least.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Confessions of a Heretic
I am an agnostic. By that I mean I don't know a damn thing where god is concerned. That doesn't mean I don't have beliefs. I do. But while I have these beliefs, I also have questions, concerns, thoughts, doubts, and a lot of unsettled issues surrounding these beliefs. In other words, I may believe X, but I also examine and question X critically and objectively. I scrutinize every belief like that, so that should surprise no one.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Conversation with a Fundamentalist
The following is a discussion I had online five years ago with a Christian who called himself "Tin Church." To be fair, I don't know whether he would consider himself a fundamentalist, but the label seems fitting nonetheless. Tin and I are actually friends. I post the conversation here because I find it interesting. Tin's words are in blue.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Are Christians Rational?
I found myself engaged in a conversation on religion when I was asked this question: are Christians rational? While the question was asked rhetorically, I considered it worthy of a response. Given that my approach consists of neither “yes, here’s why…” nor “no, here’s why…” I will let the reader decide whether the remainder of this article provides an actual answer to the question.



