lewis' proof of a greater meaning

"If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning." [Mere Christianity]

This quote exemplifies a critical thinking fallacy commonly expressed by C.S. Lewis: the use of a questionable analogy. True, the absence of phenomenon (lightness, East, sadness, ownership, etc.) should render such phenomenon “without meaning,” for there would exist no reference to them. So does our inclination to ponder the meaning and purpose of life require that a meaning and purpose to life exist, thereby confirming Lewis’ analogy?

No. Lewis failed to recognize that the human story is laden with declarations of meaning and purpose, most pertaining to survival and maintaining some way of life. While often trivial, especially relative to some grandeur purpose and meaning, these small-scale declarations offer humanity the perspective to ask the deeper questions without requiring any answer at all. Expanding Lewis’ analogy, one should expect a creature accustomed to dim light to, at some point in its history, wonder whether there exists something more bright. Christian literature is fraught with questionable analogies.

lewis sets the mood for doubt

"Now Faith…is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods. For moods will change, whatever view your reason takes. I know that by experience. Now that I am a Christian I do have moods in which the whole thing looks very improbable: but when I was an atheist I had moods in which Christianity looked terribly probable. This rebellion of your moods against your real self is going to come anyway. That is why Faith is such a necessary virtue: unless you teach your moods where they get off, you can never be either a sound Christian or even a sound atheist, but just a creature dithering to and fro, with its beliefs really dependent on the weather and the state of its digestion."

I am quite fond of this quote by C.S. Lewis. It demonstrates his expertise in manipulating language into seemingly logically consistent streams that further his agenda. Notice that he chooses to credit one’s “mood” as the sole source of one’s doubt. It’s an obvious choice; moods are flippant, irrational, and inconstant. To tame one’s variable mood, he calls upon “reason.” Again, it’s an obvious choice; reasons are objective, thorough, and consistent. Of course, Lewis did more than choose his words wisely: he redefined the mechanics of the doubting person. Consider the first sentence of his quote reworded in an arguably more honest form: “faith is the art of holding onto beliefs in spite of reason.” And as you might guess, I completely agree with this latter statement.

You might accuse that I have committed the same fallacy as Lewis; namely, that I have simply manipulated language into seemingly consistent streams in order to further my agenda. I accept the burden of arguing otherwise.

C.S Lewis wrote Mere Christianity more than 50 years ago-- predating the mainstream acceptance of the Big Bang Theory, evolution, and other scientific jabs at religious institutions. Perhaps back in 1952 (at least more than today) one could “reason” the existence of God. But these days, in an era where science pulls the curtain on even the most complex, beautiful, and curious phenomenon, it is impossible to find a “proof” of God in the natural word. Therefore, rather than defining faith as sticking to one’s “reasons” as C.S. Lewis asserts, I define faith as sticking to one’s “beliefs.” Fair enough?

Now consider the roots of doubt. Doubt-- in Christianity or any other belief— surfaces for a variety of reasons. Possibly the least common of which is a simple mood swing. Doubt more often arises because one has difficulty reconciling the claims of Christianity with some conflicting, but seemingly irrefutable, piece of evidence. Lewis suggested that we close our minds to such evidence for the sake of soundness. Although perhaps not his intention, Lewis is encouraging a most asinine and dangerous approach to belief: blind observance. I feel that recasting and legitimizing the antagonist in Lewis’ story as honest and pensive “reason” rather than “changing moods” better reflects one’s struggle with faith.

how do atheists explain jesus?

What do I do with the figure of Jesus? Jesus professed great common sense—blessed are the poor, blessed are the meek, blessed are the peacekeepers, love your enemy, turn the other cheek, forgive trespasses, don't pray in public, judge not lest you be judged, do unto others as you want to be done by. Of course, most of that message predates Jesus by thousands of years and most modern Christians refuse it anyway-- not that Christianity should be blamed for its misuse.

I don't think that Jesus performed the miracles that Christianity claims. A common but remarkably uncreative "proof" of the divinity of Jesus unfolds as follows: Jesus called himself the Son of God and claimed to perform miracles. This allows three possibilities: 1) he lied, 2) he was a psychopath, or 3) he was telling the truth. I don't consider any of these answers appropriate. I think his divine nature was prescribed onto him by oral traditionalists in the century following his death. Otherwise, he was either a liar or a psychopath-- but still a good guy that preached some great common sense!

the bible is the inspired word of god

I realize that the Bible provides hope to both those suffering on Earth and those perfectly accommodated, but one cannot honestly and purely examine the Bible-- its messages and its history-- and claim its divinity. The Bible's evolution and interpretation over the past twenty-five centuries reflects-- century for century-- the political and social drivers of the day. Did God aid clergymen in judging which gospels to include in the earliest version of the Bible?-- no, it was political. Did God guide the insertion of increasingly misogynistic text in the middle of the previous millennium?-- no, it was political. Did God demand the insertion of Mark 16:9-20 hundreds of years after the original?-- no. Did God intend that the term "homosexual" be added to the Bible for the first time in 1946?-- no, it was political. There are literally thousands of other examples. A common response to such evidence goes something like: "just because humans are fallible doesn't make the religion fallible." I adamantly agree, but to admit that the fallible nature of humankind has impacted the Bible necessarily strips the Bible of its divinity.

What I cannot understand is how one-- knowing that our earliest copy of the Bible dates only to the 3rd or 4th century AD; knowing that the Bible has undergone explicit, in-your-face alterations; knowing that the Gospels date 100 or more years after the supposed death of Jesus; knowing that the Bible's vagueness offers any person license to advance their own petty, narrow-minded beliefs; knowing countless other damning evidences-- can claim faith in its messages. I blame circular logic; remember that the only source that claims that the Bible is the word of God is the Bible itself. I often wonder, "In what do you have faith-- God or the Bible?" I do feel that each answer is mutually exclusive. Unfortunately, most Christians' understanding of God-- including how He perceives us-- follow directly from the teachings of the Bible. I imagine it incredibly difficult to divorce the two.

how do atheists cope with death?

You ask what I, as an atheist, think happens when I die. Well, I suppose I rot. But seriously, can I imagine a universe absent of my own consciousness?-- no. Do I believe my consciousness blinks out at death?-- I don't know. This is as honest an answer as I, or anyone else, can provide.

atheism leads to moral relativism

You consider Christian morals superior to those derived from an atheistic perspective. You cite the consistency of Christian ethics, as well as its focus on human dignity and stewardship, as evidence for your position. You further demonstrate the inadequacy of atheistic ethics through its equal treatment of "all substances"-- so, whether rock, insect, or human, atheists (at least after careful logical consideration) must value each equally. To be precise, this latter claim is not accurate: numerous spiritual traditions throughout history have emphasized the equality of "all substances." Consider, for example, some Native American societies. It is interesting to note that these societies, perhaps more effectively than most Christians or even atheists, rationalized apparent inconsistencies in their behavior (e.g. how they might justify killing a buffalo for food) rather cleverly.

Moving back on topic, simple right/wrong Christian ethics prove fabulously incomplete. It works well only for elementary, one-dimensional scenario-- to lie or not lie, to kill or not kill. Increasingly complex situations require a pragmatic (or morally relativistic) approach. Again consider lying and killing. Each is abominable, but a pragmatic approach allows one to, for example, lie to a murderer to save the life of another. Obviously, the appropriateness of lying is conditional.

Consider a more demanding example: would you allow one person to die in order to save two? Most people might answer "No!" But would you allow one person to die in order to save 1 million? Most people might answer "Yes!" Notice that a curious condition arises. Two persons and 1 million persons represent extremes-- a very small number of people and a very large number of people. But what if the numbers weren't so extreme? Logically, there must exist a number between 2 and 1 million where a person becomes ethically torn. Herein lies moral ambiguity. I argue that practically all dilemma we humans encounter on a daily basis are of this form-- falling within the gray areas where simple right/wrong ethics do not suffice. Moral ambiguity arises not from evil or corruptness, but, rather, from the complexity and diversity of our societal interactions. I further argue that regardless of your preferred moral identity, all humans operate pragmatically; it is necessary for survival.

faith offers my life meaning

To summarize your point, you're a Christian because you seek meaning. And, as you rationalize it, meaning offers the only logical barrier to suicide. You expand this point to address those atheists who haven't yet realized that suicide is their only logical next step, and conclude that their accomplishments cannot logically derive self-gratification because, in the end, there's no point to their pursuits. Honestly, this assessment is both juvenile in its depth and personally insulting. It reiterates a lame, narrow minded, and partisan dogma that permeates throughout the Christian world. Allow me to demonstrate its lack of rational merit: you claim self-meaning because, by definition, God offers your life meaning. You will live, you will die, and will henceforth spend eternity glorifying God. You find joy in this eternity because, by definition, you derive all- encompassing and everlasting joy in the presence of God. Trudging beyond the demonstrably cyclic nature of these statements, one is left with the following question: how does one justify meaning in the eternal glorification of God? At best, a God offers one additional degree of separation from the inevitable question: "What's the meaning of all this?"

As an atheist, I derive meaning from the same sources as the Christian (in an actionable sense). I recognize the merit in caring for one's family; in caring for one's children; in striving for the betterment of society and self; in intellectual pursuit. These offer my life meaning, and they offer your life meaning as well. And, sure, when asked "what's the point of it all?" you can proudly claim the glorification of God. But when asked to justify the meaning of the glorification of God, you'll need to resort to circular logic. Unfortunately, God offers no solution to our biggest questions-- He merely redirects them. So, you can kill yourself if you want, but I'm going to keep on living.

eventually, science will point to god

This idea-- that science will eventually point to God-- perfectly demonstrates a misunderstanding of the function of science. Science relies on the scientific method. In this scheme, one observes his or her environment. Based on such observation, one generates a hypothesis, which incorporates the behavior exhibited by the observed phenomenon. At any time a new observation does not align with the hypothesis, or a prediction suggested by the hypothesis does not prove reliable (including "God of the gap" patches), the hypothesis is updated or discarded. This method, developed to its modern standard during the Scientific Revolution in the 1600s, is the sole reason why we enjoy countless technological luxuries today and, more importantly, why we can begin to fathom and understand the awesomeness of our Universe. It is self-correcting, neutral, and never requires faith.

Again, I understand that you are not anti-science or anti-technology. But my point is this: the scientific method defines the pursuit of modern science. The antithesis of this approach is to make conclusions first and then seek out observations that suggest its validity. Such methods, thrown out by science, explain how pseudo-scientists can "scientifically" conclude that the Earth is only 6000 years old, or that intelligent design offers a superior description of our evolutionary history, or that the Earth is the center of the Universe (yes, this theory was pushed by religion / politics, not science). It also explains why radical groups such as the Westboro Baptist Church can cite the Bible as the justification for their actions-- they hold troubling views and have at their disposable 30,000 verses to use (at their discretion) as evidence.

When conclusions or assumptions prelude science, it enables one's personal passions, beliefs, hopes, and politics to inspire the science. This is not science-- it is a tool used to further the agenda of the vested individual or group.

consider reading francis collins

You suggested I read Francis Collins, probably because Collins manages to reconcile his professional (scientific) and spiritual influences. But one can hardly credit Collins for writing a scientific book that leads to God. Collins' thesis centers on what he perceives as a misplacement of faith: according to Collins, many Christians place their faith in God in those fields where the science remains inadequate or incomplete— the Christian God becomes a so called "God of the gaps." Unfortunately, as Collins notes, this leaves such Christians vulnerable to advances in science. For example, as progresses in microbiology better define the evolutionary processes that lead to the creation, diversity, and complexity of species, arguments such as "irreducible complexity" no longer carry weight. This is troubling to a Christian if he or she bases his or her faith in God on the validity of Intelligent Design (which Collins speaks against). Therefore, Collins urges one to place his or her faith "outside the jurisdiction" of science.

So where does Collins place his faith? Collins finds refuge in the altruistic nature of humankind—that because anthropologists and sociologists cannot determine the evolutionary usefulness of altruism, this (according to Collins) is where God reveals Himself. I was incredibly disappointed with his conclusion. Collins delivers a scathing and creditable criticism of the "God of the gaps" mentality only to conclude that he places his faith in a tendency of human character that scientists have yet to fully understand. Unfortunately for Collins, scientists have presented several theories to explain the altruistic nature of humans (and other animals). What will Collins do now?