For those who reject the notion of free will, our experience of making our own decisions is nothing more than a deep-seated illusion. “The reality is,” insists biologist Anthony Cashmore, “not only do we have no more free will than a fly or a bacterium, in actuality we have no more free will than a bowl of sugar.”

Those who argue for the nonexistence of free will often do so on scientific grounds. And those who offer a scientific “proof” against free will point to one type of experiment more than any other—namely, those done and inspired by neurobiologist Benjamin Libet.

In 1983, Libet seemed to prove that the unconscious processes of the brain—the interaction of molecules, electrical discharges, and the like, which are associated with decision-making—are ultimately in control. In other words, our voluntary decisions begin unconsciously in the brain. So it is the brain, not the person, that decides the actions we “feel” to be voluntary.

Libet-style experiments involve having a subject carry out a simple prescribed behavior (flexing the wrist, bending a finger, etc.) whenever he feels the urge to do so. Watching a special clock while he executes his movement, the subject notes the specific time at which he decided to move. The goal of the researchers is to plot a timeline of averages, noting the typical sequence of brain activity (e.g., by EEG), muscle activity (e.g., by EMG), and conscious urging (by subjective reporting). The expectation is that if our intentional actions are truly free, associated brain activity will follow the moment of decision. But this is not what Libet found.

Why does this matter? Well, it has obvious implications for the truth of the Catholic worldview. It also concerns human nature and how we understand ourselves as human beings. For if we don’t have free will, then this may dramatically change how we govern ourselves and interact with others. Much of how we operate as individuals, communities, states, and institutions presuppose that we are personally responsible for our actions. But if it were proven that we are not, this would entirely undermine our rationale for structuring and governing society on the assumption that we are free creatures.

So did these experiments really succeed in proving that free will is an illusion? They did not.

First of all, the experiments look exclusively at spontaneously willed behavior with brain activity. Participants were asked to act when they felt the urge. These experiments, then, say little about choices resulting from rational planning. At most, they suggest the nonexistence of free will in the restricted case of willful spontaneity. The voluntary actions with which they are concerned are barely more than split-second reactions. As some critics have observed, such studies tell us more about “picking” than “choosing.”

But even that conclusion might be overly hasty, for the concept of free will is not as plain as often presumed. Free will is a spiritual appetite for the intellectually known good. A decision, moved by free will, is not a quantifiable event like a neuronal discharge. Nor is it reducible to an instantaneous impulse or urge. And a willed movement is not always a purely linear cause-then-effect event like a cue ball striking an eight-ball into action. The activity of the will is more “smoothed out” and pervasive than an impulse. And it is enacted in layers. Thus, even in a setting like the Libet-style experiments, the free will cannot be isolated as cleanly as many assume.

For each study participant, in carrying out the prescribed movement, the will to move in this way at this time is nested within a multiplicity of other intentions motivating the same action. A singular act of wrist flexion is driven also (presumably) by the will to participate in the study; by the desire to follow the specific instructions given; by the desire to contribute to neuroscientific advancement; and in the will to do something for the common good. Additionally, the subject may bend his wrist because he desires to fulfill a class requirement—a class he desires to pass—or because he thinks it will hold the attention of the attractive research assistant across the room. The point is this: due to the complex integration of intentions involved in a single choice to move a body part, these studies cannot account for all the reasons that cause a person to conduct a singular movement. There is a sense in which the free decision of the research subject to flex his wrist “now” originated even before he entered the research lab.

We find ourselves here at an important juncture. It shows that once we have started making claims about free will’s reality or unreality, we have turned from all observation, measurement, and data analysis. We have reached the far side of the physical and have (perhaps unwittingly) thrust ourselves into the realm of philosophy.

Let’s turn to some further considerations. The Libet experiments relied on machines to capture brain and muscle activity. But it must be noted that neither EEG nor fMRI, nor any other form of advanced imaging, can capture the qualitative content of brain activity. When researchers carry out Libet-style experiments, they note the onset of brain activity and compare it to that of muscle activity and, more importantly, the time when the subject reports consciously willing the prescribed movement. But there is no precise way for scientists to know—even when the subject acts on an urge—whether the brain activity recorded or observed is representative of decision, or decision-making, or planning to make a decision.

In fact, more recent research shows the same brain activity believed to induce conscious decision-making is also found in subjects even when they do not make a conscious decision. Libet’s initial conclusion was “that cerebral initiation even of a spontaneous voluntary act . . . can and usually does begin unconsciously.” But these recent studies call such a conclusion into serious question.

There are several other critiques and limitations that have a significant impact on how much (or little) Libet-style studies actually prove. For an excellent detailed discussion of these limitations and their philosophical implications, read Alfred Mele’s little book Free.

At most, Libet-style experiments prove that a constrained subset of willed behaviors is not as freely executed as we are inclined to assume. But as we have seen, they hardly prove even that much. As far as Catholics traditionally conceive human freedom, such experiments pose little threat—and thus, the human person has every reason to believe that he remains infinitely more free than a bowl of sugar.

St. Anselm’s ontological argument for God’s existence often gets a bad rap, not just from atheists but even from many Catholics. For one thing, it can be a difficult argument to understand. Though its premises are rather simple, something about it makes us think we are being tricked. For another thing, we know that eminent authorities like St. Thomas Aquinas have expressed their discontent with the argument.

Nonetheless, I think it is wrong to discard the argument without a second thought. Indeed, I think there is still much of value to be gleaned from it. For simplicity’s sake, here’s a basic sketch of the argument:

1. God is the greatest conceivable thing.
2. But if something is only in the mind and not in reality, then a greater thing can be conceived.
3. So, God cannot only be in the mind.
4. Therefore, God exists in reality.

In short, the very idea of God necessitates his existence. Thus, the Psalmist is right when he writes, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Psalm 14:1). Whether or not this is a perfect representation of Anselm’s argument, it should serve our purposes today.

I would like to set aside for now the objections against it as an argument for God’s existence, not because it’s not an important question. It is indeed a very important question! But before defending the argument, we have to understand better what Anselm was saying. In fact, unbelievers who point out what they believe to be its weaknesses tend to miss Anselm’s meaning, and thus end up “defeating” a straw man. Engaging in an argument without clarifying meanings is never a good idea.

Christian apologists have long been frustrated to deal with popular skeptics railing against God as something other than what he truly is. Comparisons of God to the tooth fairy or Santa Claus are often flippantly made, particularly among the New Atheist types. Pathetic as such caricatures are, they betray a conception among non-believers that God is a finite creature. But for St. Anselm, that is precisely what God is not.

In an age when religious indifference is rampant and serious contemplation of spiritual things is scarce, St. Anselm’s argument is valuable because it takes on the form of a spiritual exercise.

In reality, God is not a thing at all—things in the sense of “beings in the world” have limitations. They can always be imagined to be greater in some way. But as Dominican theologian Herbert McCabe writes, “God cannot be a thing, an existent among others. It is not possible that God and the universe should add up to make two.”

What he means is that God’s mode of existence is completely different than everything else. Indeed, God is the creator of everything, and keeps it in being every moment it exists. This is the kind of God St. Anselm has in mind when he imagines “that than which nothing greater can be conceived.”

The Anselmian proof invites us to do away with the caricatures—a challenger cannot even begin to refute the proof until he seriously entertains the notion of God presented by Anselm. From that starting point, then, all lesser kinds of “divinities”—from Zeus to the Flying Spaghetti Monster—are necessarily ruled out. We must ask the question soberly: what is the greatest conceivable thing? It is certainly not a beast composed of pasta.

There is more than one way to approach the question. We can think about God as unrestricted existence—that is, existence itself. Or in Aristotelian terms, we can think about God as being pure act and no potency—which just means that God is utterly perfect and lacks all possibility of further perfection. Technically (and as St. Thomas affirmed), to think of God as existence itself is probably the best way to think about “what” God is.

But there is another way to think about what it means for God to be, as Anselm put it, “that than which nothing greater can be conceived.” Let’s think about this in concrete terms. What is greater—a God who loves everyone who loves him back, or a God who loves everyone unconditionally? Clearly the latter, for his love is perfect. Now, such “negative theology” can help us understand what God isn’t, but it proves nothing about whether such a thing exists. Still, it can help to clarify the nature of the thing considered—the first step of serious argumentation.

In his influential book, The God of Faith and Reason, philosopher Robert Sokolowski considers another contrast, one that sheds light on St. Anselm’s meaning of God. The first “god” Sokolowski asks us to consider is one who becomes greater as the result of his creation. In this first case, “god + the world” is greater than the god alone. He contrasts this version with another in which God is so great that his creation adds nothing to his perfection. In the latter case, “God + the world” is not greater than God alone. And clearly, argues Sokolowski, this latter God is a greater conception of God than the former. Indeed, no greater God could be conceived. And there are important implications that follow from this.

One implication is that if God creates but gains nothing for himself by doing so, then it follows that God’s act of creation is completely gratuitous and unsolicited. We—the created—have everything to gain by virtue of the gift of our existence.

So, aside from what it contributes to the debate about God’s existence, St. Anselm’s ontological proof helps us to re-establish who God is and what it means for us to exist. It gets us thinking about the big questions again, for we have been created for our own good by a God who is unlimited in perfection. Our lives, then, should be lived in a way that reflects uncompromising gratitude, humility, and trust in God.

If St. Anselm’s argument fails as a proof for God’s existence, it nonetheless does great service in establishing a firm starting point for determining what it is we are trying to prove in the first place. Moreover, it compels us to think seriously about whether such a grand contention could be true.

Conversions from atheism are often gradual and complex, no doubt. For many converts the road is slow and tedious, tiring and trying. But in the end unbelievers who find God can enjoy an inner peace that comes from a clear conscience in knowing they held to truth and followed the arguments faithfully.

Of course not all converts from atheism become Christian or even religious. Some converts only reach a deistic belief in God (an areligious position that God is “impersonal”) but the leap is still monumental; and it opens new, unforeseen horizons.

The factors that lead to faith are often diverse. It is clear that every former atheist has walked a unique path to God. Cardinal Ratzinger was once asked how many ways there are to God. He replied:

“As many ways as there are people. For even within the same faith each man’s way is an entirely personal one.”

Of course, the pope-to-be was not endorsing the view that “all religions are equal” but rather that there always seems to be a unique combination of factors—or steps—that move each convert towards belief in God. It also seems that some of these factors are more prominent across the board than others.

Here are eight common factors that lead atheists to change their minds about God:

1. Good literature and reasonable writing.

Reasonable atheists eventually become theists because they are reasonable; and furthermore, because they are honest. They are willing to follow the evidence wherever it leads; and in many cases the evidence comes to the atheist most coherently and well-presented through the writings of believers in God.

Author Karen Edmisten admits on her blog:

“I once thought I’d be a lifelong atheist. Then I became desperately unhappy, read up on philosophy and various religions (while assiduously avoiding Christianity), and waited for something to make sense. I was initially  appalled when Christianity began to look  like the sensible thing, surprised when I wanted to be baptized, and stunned that I ended up a Catholic.”

Dr. Holly Ordway, author of Not God’s Type: An Atheist Academic Lays Down Her Arms, describes the consequences of reading great, intelligent Christian writers:

“I found that my favorite authors were men and women of deep Christian faith. C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien above all; and then the poets: Gerard Manley Hopkins, George Herbert, John Donne, and others. Their work was unsettling to my atheist convictions…”

Dr. Ordway mentions the eminent 20th century Oxford thinker, C.S. Lewis. Lewis is a prime example of a reasonable but unbelieving thinker who was willing to read from all angles and perspectives. As a result of his open inquiry, he became a believer in Christ and one of modern Christianity’s greatest apologists.

G.K. Chesterton and George MacDonald were two of the most influential writers to effect Lewis’ conversion. He writes in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy:

“In reading Chesterton, as in reading MacDonald, I did not know what I was letting myself in for… A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading.”

Author Dale Ahlquist writes matter-of-factly that “C.S. Lewis was an atheist until he read Chesterton’s book, The Everlasting Man, but he wasn’t afterwards…”

Ironically, it was C.S. Lewis’ influential defenses of Christianity that would eventually prompt countless conversions to Christianity—and his influence continues today unhindered. Among the Lewis-led converts from atheism is former feminist and professor of philosophy, Lorraine Murray, who recalls:

“In college I turned my back on Catholicism, my childhood faith, and became a radical, gender-bending feminist and a passionate atheist …. Reading Lewis, I found something that I must have been quietly hungering for all along, which was a reasoned approach to my childhood beliefs, which had centered almost entirely on emotion. As I turned the pages of this book, I could no longer ignore the Truth, nor turn my back on the Way and the Life. Little by little, and inch by inch, I found my way back to Jesus Christ and returned to the Catholic Church.”

For an in-depth account of Murray’s conversion, see her book: Confessions Of An Ex-Feminist.

2. "Experimentation" with prayer and the word of God.

The Word of God is living. It has power beyond human comprehension because it is “God-breathed.” God speaks to man in many ways; but especially through prayer and the reading of the inspired Scriptures. When curiosity (or even interest) of non-believers leads to experimentation with prayer or reading the Bible the results can be shocking, as many converts attest.

One former atheist who was profoundly affected by prayer and the Scriptures is author Devin Rose. On his blog, he describes the role that God’s Word played in his gradual conversion process from atheism to Christianity:

“I began praying, saying, “God, you know I do not believe in you, but I am in trouble and need help. If you are real, help me.” I started reading the Bible to learn about what Christianity said…”

Once Rose began to read the Scriptures and talk to God, even as a skeptic, he found himself overwhelmed by something very real:

“Still, I persevered. I kept reading the Bible, asking my roommate questions about what I was reading, and praying. Then, slowly, and amazingly, my faith grew and it eventually threatened to whelm my many doubts and unbelief.”

And the rest was history for the now rising Catholic apologist and author of The Protestant’s Dilemma.

Similarly, renowned sci-fi author John C. Wright distinctly recalls a prayer he said as an adamant atheist:

“I prayed. ‘Dear God, I know… that you do not exist. Nonetheless, as a scholar, I am forced to entertain the hypothetical possibility that I am mistaken. So just in case I am mistaken, please reveal yourself to me in some fashion that will prove your case. If you do not answer, I can safely assume that either you do not care whether I believe in you, or that you have no power to produce evidence to persuade me…If you do not exist, this prayer is merely words in the air, and I lose nothing but a bit of my dignity. Thanking you in advance for your kind cooperation in this matter, John Wright.'”

Wright soon received the answer (and effect) he did not expect:

“Something from beyond the reach of time and space, more fundamental than reality, reached across the universe and broke into my soul and changed me…I was altered down to the root of my being…It was like falling in love.”

Wright was welcomed into the Catholic Church at Easter in 2008.

3. Historical study of the Gospels.

Lee Strobel, the former legal editor of the Chicago Tribune and author of the influential work, The Case For Christ, is a prime example of what happens when an honest atheist sets out to establish once and for all whether the claims of the Gospels are reliable or not.

Strobel writes at the end of his investigation in The Case For Christ:

“I’ll admit it:I was ambushed by the amount and quality of the evidence that Jesus is the unique Son of God… I shook my head in amazement. I had seen defendants carted off to the death chamber on much less convincing proof! The cumulative facts and data pointed unmistakably towards a conclusion that I wasn’t entirely comfortable in reaching.” (p. 264)

Modern historical scholars like Craig Blomberg and N.T. Wright have advanced the area of historical theology and the study of the claims of the Gospels to exciting new heights. The results of such ground-breaking studies are one of the greatest threats to modern day atheism.

Referring specifically to the historical evidence for the resurrection of Christ in the Gospels (discussed below), former atheist and freelancer, Philip Vander Elst, writes:

“The more I thought about all these points, the more convinced I became that the internal evidence for the reliability of the Gospels and the New Testament as a whole was overwhelming."

4. Honest philosophical reasoning.

Philosophy means “love of truth.” Philosophy is meant to lead one to truth; and it certainly will, if the philosopher is willing to honestly consider the arguments from both sides and follow the best arguments wherever they may lead.

Psychologist Dr. Kevin Vost recalls his discovery of the arguments of St. Thomas Aquinas:

“Pope Leo XIII had written in the 1879 encyclical Aeterni Patris that for scientific types who follow only reason, after the grace of God, nothing is as likely to win them back to the faith as the wisdom of St. Thomas, and this was the case for me. He showed me how true Christian faith complements and perfects reason; it doesn’t contradict or belittle it. He solved all the logical dilemmas.”

Philosopher Dr. Ed Feser, in his article, The Road From Atheism, recounts the shocking effectof opening himself to the arguments for the existence of God:

“As I taught and thought about the arguments for God’s existence, and in particular the cosmological argument, I went from thinking “These arguments are no good” to thinking “These arguments are a little better than they are given credit for” and then to “These arguments are actually kind of interesting.”  Eventually it hit me: “Oh my goodness, these arguments are right after all!”

Feser concludes:

“Speaking for myself, anyway, I can say this much.  When I was an undergrad I came across the saying that learning a little philosophy leads you away from God, but learning a lot of philosophy leads you back.  As a young man who had learned a little philosophy, I scoffed.  But in later years and at least in my own case, I would come to see that it’s true.”

Two fantastic books from Edward Feser include The Last Superstition: A Refutation Of The New Atheism and Aquinas. Also recommended is Kevin Vost’s From Atheism to Catholicism: How Scientists and Philosophers Led Me to the Truth.

5. Reasonable believers.

It has been the obnoxious position of some (not all) atheists that in order to believe in God, one must have a significant lack of intelligence and/or reason. Most atheists believe that modern science has ruled out the possibility of the existence of God. For this reason, they tag believers with a lack of up-to-date knowledge and critical thinking skills. (Of course, the question of the existence of a God who is outside of the physical universe is fundamentally aphilosophical question—not a scientific question.)

Intelligent and reasonable believers in God, who can engage atheistic arguments with clarity and logic, become a great challenge to atheists who hold this shallow attitude towards the existence of God.

Theists especially make a statement when they are experts in any field of science. To list just a few examples: Galileo and Kepler (astronomy), Pascal (hydrostatics), Boyle (chemistry), Newton (calculus), Linnaeus (systematic biology), Faraday (electromagnetics), Cuvier (comparative anatomy), Kelvin (thermodynamics), Lister (antiseptic surgery), and Mendel (genetics).

An honest atheist might presume, upon encountering Christians (for example) who have reasonable explanations for their supernatural beliefs, that the existence of God is at least plausible. This encounter might then mark the beginning of the non-believer’s openness towards God as a reality.

Consider the notable conversion of former atheist blogger, Jennifer Fulwiler. Her journey from atheism to agnosticism and—eventually—to Catholicism, was slow and gradual with many different points of impact. But encountering intelligent believers in God was a key chink in her atheist armor.

In this video interview with Brandon Vogt, Jen explains how encountering intelligent, reasonable theists (especially her husband) impacted her in the journey towards her eventual conversion.

For the full account of Jen’s conversion process, get her must-read book, Something Other Than God. Her blog is conversiondiary.com.

And then there’s Leah Libresco—another atheist blogger turned Catholic. Leah recalls the challenging impact of reasonable Christians in her academic circle:

“I was in a philosophical debating group, so the strongest pitch I saw was probably the way my Catholic friends rooted their moral, philosophical, or aesthetic arguments in their theology. We covered a huge spread of topics so I got so see a lot of long and winding paths into the consequences of belief.”

Recalling her first encounter with this group of intelligent Christians, she writes on her blog:

“When I went to college…I met smart Christians for the first time, and it was a real shock.”

That initial “shock” stirred her curiosity and propelled her in the direction of Christianity. Leah is now an active Catholic.

Finally, there’s Edith Stein, a brilliant 20th century philosopher. As an atheist, Edith was shocked when she discovered the writings of Catholic philosopher, Max Scheler. As one account of her conversion recounts:

“Edith was enthralled by Scheler’s eloquence in expounding and defending Catholic spiritual ideals. Listening to his lectures on the phenomenology of religion, she became disposed to take religious ideas and attitudes seriously for the first time since her adolescence, when she had lost her faith and and given up prayer.”

Edith Stein would eventually convert to Catholicism and die a martyr. She is now known as St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross.

6. Modern advances and limitations in science.

Antony Flew was one of the world’s most famous atheists of the 20th century. He debated William Lane Craig and others on the existence of God. But eventually his recognition of the profound order and complexity of the universe, and its apparent fine-tuning, was a decisive reason for the renowned atheist to change his mind about God’s existence.

In a fascinating interview with Dr. Ben Wiker, Flew explains:

“There were two factors in particular that were decisive. One was my growing empathy with the insight of Einstein and other noted scientists that there had to be an Intelligence behind the integrated complexity of the physical Universe.”

He concluded that it was reasonable to believe that the organization of space, time, matter and energy throughout the universe is far from random.

As Dr. Peter Kreeft has pointed out, no person would see a hut on a beach and conclude that it must have randomly assembled itself by some random natural process, void of an intelligent designer. Its order necessitates a designer. Thus if this “beach hut analogy” is true, how much more should we believe in an Intelligent Designer behind the vastly more complex and ordered universe and the precise physical laws that govern it (click here for William Lane Craig’s argument for the fine-tuning of the universe).

Flew continues in his exposition on why he changed his mind about God:

“The second was my own insight that the integrated complexity of life itself—which is far more complex than the physical Universe—can only be explained in terms of an Intelligent Source. I believe that the origin of life and reproduction simply cannot be explained from a biological standpoint . . . The difference between life and non-life, it became apparent to me, was ontological and not chemical. The best confirmation of this radical gulf is Richard Dawkins’ comical effort to argue in The God Delusion that the origin of life can be attributed to a “lucky chance.” If that’s the best argument you have, then the game is over. No, I did not hear a Voice. It was the evidence itself that led me to this conclusion.”

Parents often describe their experience of procreation as “a miracle,” regardless of their religious background or philosophical worldview. Intuitively, they seem to accept that there is something deeply mysterious and transcendent at work in the bringing forth (and sustenance) of new human life. Flew also was able to realize (after a lifetime of study and reflection) that there could be no merely natural explanation for life in the universe.

For a more in-depth account of Flew’s change of mind on God’s existence, read There Is A God: How The World’s Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind.

7. Evidence for the Resurrection.

Thanks to the phenomenal work of leading New Testament scholars, including Gary Habermas, William Lane Craig, and N.T. Wright, the case for Christ’s resurrection has become more airtight than ever.

Modern historical studies have left little doubt about what the best explanation is for the alleged postmortem appearances of the risen Jesus, the conversions of Paul and James, and the empty tomb: Jesus really was raised from the dead. Even most of today’s critical New Testament scholars accept these basic facts as historically certain (the appearances, conversions, empty tomb, etc); but they are left limping with second-rate alternative explanations in a last ditch effort to refute the true resurrection of Christ and “signature of God”, as scholar Richard Swinburne has tagged it.

The case for the resurrection of Jesus had a significant impact on the former atheist, now Christian apologist, Alister McGrath. He recalls in one of his articles:

“My early concern was to get straight what Christians believed, and why they believed it. How does the Resurrection fit into the web of Christian beliefs? How does it fit into the overall scheme of the Christian faith? After several years of wrestling with these issues, I came down firmly on the side of Christian orthodoxy. I became, and remain, a dedicated and convinced defender of traditional Christian theology. Having persuaded myself of its merits, I was more than happy to try to persuade others as well.”

For more on McGrath’s journey see his book, Surprised By Meaning.

8. Beauty.

The great theologian, Hans Urs von Balthasar, wrote:

“Beauty is the word that shall be our first. Beauty is the last thing which the thinking intellect dares to approach, since only it dances as an uncontained splendour around the double constellation of the true and the good and their inseparable relation to one another.”

Father von Balthasar held strong to the notion that to lead non-believers to belief in God we must begin with the beautiful.

Dr. Peter Kreeft calls this the Argument from Aesthetic Experience. The Boston College philosopher testifies that he knows of several former atheists who came to a belief in God based on this argument (for more from Dr. Kreeft, see his Twenty Arguments For The Existence Of God).

In classic Kreeftian fashion, he puts forward the argument in the following way:

“There is the music of Johann Sebastian Bach.
Therefore there must be a God.

You either see this one or you don’t.”

Throughout the wide world of creation God has left all sorts of signs that point right back at him. Often these clues tell us more than that a divine being exists; they often tell us what kind of divine being exists. Some of these clues lie right before our nose in the world around us, whereas others lie deep inside of us at the level of immediate subjective experience. Among these interior signs is the conscience, which points not merely toward the existence of God but the existence of a personal God.

In his Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent, John Cardinal Henry Newman sets out to demonstrate how we come to approve or “assent” to the reality of God. Newman does this by appealing to the human conscience, demonstrating the significance of this mysterious interior faculty and showing how its presence and effect upon us suggest the reality of a divine moral legislator. Newman writes:

Conscience is a law of the mind; yet [Christians] would not grant that it is nothing more. . . . [Conscience] is a messenger of him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by his representatives. Conscience is the aboriginal vicar of Christ (Letter to the Duke of Norfolk).

But where does our conscience come from?

The Absolute Authority of Conscience

The Catechism tells us that conscience is “a judgment of reason by which the human person recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act” (1796). It is a rational human faculty, agrees Newman, like memory, reason, and the sense of beauty; yet it also has a moral sovereignty over us. We often find ourselves going where we do not want to go, doing what we do not want to do, or saying what we do not want to say; our conscience informs us of this.

“There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular but he must take it because conscience tells him it is right,” affirmed Martin Luther King Jr. in his famous speech, “A Proper Sense of Priorities.” Truly, the conscience demands unconditional obedience, respect, and loyalty—often at a cost. Yet to disobey our conscience is often the more immediately painful option, at least on an emotional level. Strangely, in a culture so averse to moral authorities, despite the potential consequences of choosing the right decision over the popular decision, almost no one would say it’s okay to disobey one’s own conscience. It may not even be possible to say “It’s okay to disobey your conscience” without disobeying your conscience. But where on earth does such firm and unshakable authority over humanity come from? Philosopher Peter Kreeft writes:

Conscience has absolute, exceptionless, binding moral authority over us, demanding unqualified obedience. But only a perfectly good, righteous divine will has this authority and a right to absolute, exceptionless obedience. Therefore conscience is the voice of the will of God (Argument from Conscience).

Newman draws the same conclusion when he calls conscience the “aboriginal vicar of Christ.” He too was in awe of the mysterious authority of the conscience and believed the best explanation behind it was a supreme and authoritative personal authority, which he characterizes powerfully in this reflection:

Man has within his breast a certain commanding dictate, not a mere sentiment, not a mere opinion or impression or view of things, but a law, an authoritative voice, bidding him do certain things and avoid others . . . what I am insisting on here is this, that it commands; that it praises, blames, it threatens, it implies a future, and it witnesses of the unseen. It is more than a man’s own self. The man himself has no power over it, or only with extreme difficulty; he did not make it, he cannot destroy it (The Argument from Conscience to the Existence of God according to J.H. Newman).

Feelings and Conscience

It is a common mistake to equate feelings with conscience, but feelings and conscience are not the same thing. Feelings (unless bridled according to right reason) are often fleeting, impulsive, and irrational. Conscience on the other hand is abiding, authoritative, and reasonable. These distinctions are key. Kreeft points out, “If our immediate feelings were the voice of God, we would have to be polytheists or else God would have to be schizophrenic” (Argument from Conscience). Feelings may accompany our conscience but they are not synonymous with it.

Newman suggests that such a relationship between conscience and the feelings it potentially invokes only make sense if there is a personal explanation behind it. He wrote,

“If, as is the case, we feel responsibility, are ashamed, are frightened, at transgressing the voice of the conscience, this implies that there is One to whom we are responsible, before whom we are ashamed, whose claim upon us we fear” (An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent).

Through our conscience we discern not only a moral law but a moral lawgiver. When we transgress our interior moral compass, we feel a genuine sense of guilt as though we have let someone down. On the other hand, when we obey our conscience we feel invigorated—particularly if such obedience requires great courage—as though we have been praised by another. But merely impersonal objects like brains neither praise nor blame. The feelings we experience when we respond to our conscience are distinctlyrelational and point to a personal being who is holding us accountable for our actions.

Where Does Conscience Come From?

“There is no moral authority outside of oneself,” asserts the spirit of the age. Yet despite this popular attitude, there is a common human experience of something dangerously akin to moral obligation. There does seem to be a “right way” to act, regardless of our personal opinion; there does seem to be an interior voice within us that commands us to do good always and to avoid evil.

Some write off conscience as a natural phenomenon, an evolutionary instinct. Our inclination to do what is right, they say, exists in order to keep the peace among the human species. The compulsion to do good is required in order to have a society where survival and reproduction are optimized.

But conscience is different from instinct. My instinct in the middle of the night when my two-year-old daughter wakes up crying is to ignore the commotion and keep sleeping, but my conscience tells me to overrule my instinct and tend to my child. The moral choice may be more evolutionarily undesirable; yet in such cases conscience still tends to overrule instinct. But even in cases where there may be natural advantages to following our conscience, this does not rule out God as evolutionarily obsolete. As philosopher Mitch Stokes reflects in his book, How to Be an Atheist: Why Many Skeptics Aren’t Skeptical Enough:

I have no doubt that our moral code(s) provide survival advantage over many of the alternatives. But this biological benefit does not in itself imply that our ethics developed naturalistically. It may be, for example, that a divine Lawgiver hardwired us with knowledge of moral laws, and one of the benefits of following them is that things will generally go better for us, as well as for others.

So the naturally advantageous results of following our conscience may be the result of God’s genius and careful planning.

It might be tempting to reach for Ockham’s razor at this point. Perhaps this just sounds like we’re superfluously adding God into the picture.  But that is not the case at all. The unique and unbending authority of the conscience must come from somewhere, and as we have noted, there is good reason to believe a personal agent is behind it all. But the only kind of personal agent that could have such absolute authority over humanity is a divine lawgiver; so from this we are reasonable to conclude that the authoritative personal lawgiver behind the irrepressible “law written on our hearts” is God (Rom. 2:15)

Too often people have a parrot-like propensity to be seduced by a catchy saying, hold to it, and assert it repeatedly without thinking seriously about what they’re saying. They remember before they speak, but they don’t think before they speak. And the most astonishing fact is that all too often they really do believe they have said something wise.

Chesterton provided an example when he critiqued the popular exhortation to “believe in yourself” in his classic Orthodoxy. “Thoroughly worldly people never understand even the world,” he said.  “They rely altogether on a few cynical maxims which are not true.” In short, when we get intellectually lazy we tend to lean thoughtlessly on faddish sayings. We speak on autopilot.

This is a human folly, so neither I nor those who believe what I believe are exempt from this inclination. Nonetheless, here I would like to narrow down my critique to one phrase often asserted by naturalists: Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. It's often asserted by skeptics as a brute fact without qualification.

Indeed, the saying has become something of a maxim among modern nonbelievers. Astronomer Carl Sagan popularized the principle, although the idea predates him. French scientist Pierre-Simon Laplace asserted something similar when he wrote, “The weight of evidence for an extraordinary claim must be proportioned to its strangeness.”

In An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, skeptical philosopher David Hume wrote, “A wise man . . . proportions his belief to the evidence.” Skeptics have cited this quotation in support of their belief that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, but look closely at what Hume says; or better yet, look at what Hume does not say.

He says a wise man proportions his belief to the evidence, and I couldn’t agree more. He does not say, however, that the wise man proportions his evidence to the belief. Hume is right: it is wise to hold beliefs that are well supported by evidence.

Thus we return to our chief inquiry: what exactly does the skeptic mean by his principle that “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence”?

What Makes a Claim extraordinary?

The problem is, the term extraordinary in this case is arbitrary. It is unreasonable for the skeptic to merely state that belief in the supernatural is extraordinary without further qualification. As always in rational discourse, defining terms is paramount.

Perhaps by extraordinary the skeptic means uncommon or rare. That seems reasonable. But the paradox is that rare things happen all the time. Identical twins are born, lotteries are won, atheists become Catholics, and new species of animals are discovered. But not even the most committed skeptic would deny the reality of these rare events—at least once the evidence is out.

The skeptic sees the lottery winner on the news, and he believes without demanding access to the winner’s bank statement. The atheist sees his twins on the ultrasound monitor, but he believes despite not seeing his babies directly with his own eyes. He believes without direct observation because of what he deems to be trustworthy evidence.

Perhaps we might say that because the evidence supports the truth of an unexpected reality, the evidence is extraordinary by virtue of what it proves.

Or maybe the skeptic means that belief in the invisible is extraordinary and therefore requires extraordinary evidence. Yet he does not suspend belief in the existence of Darwin, electrons, the mind of his best friend, or human free will, despite the fact that they are directly unobservable. He believes in these things on intuition and on the testimony of others, and for him that kind of evidence is good enough to warrant faith in the invisible.

Or perhaps he means by extraordinary what the term typically means—namely, something not ordinary. Ordinary is synonymous with usual or normal, so extraordinary would be “not the usual.” But here’s the thing: the majority position in regard to God’s existence—or the most usual belief across humanity—in almost every (if not every) era, including our own, has been belief in God, not atheism (this is the first premise of the common consent argument).

If this is the case, then perhaps we should flip this thing around and demand “extraordinary evidence” from the skeptics, since it is they who make the extraordinary claim, or the minority claim among men in this age and probably all the ages preceding it.

But there is still another question to ask :

What Constitutes Extraordinary Evidence?

Now, here’s another scenario. Perhaps the skeptic calls a supernatural claim extraordinary because he believes, unlike atheism, there is no good evidence for theism. On this view it is implied that the ordinary claim is that which has good evidence to support it.

But this viewpoint hinges on whether or not supernaturalism is, in fact, lacking evidentially and whether there is better evidence for atheism. If there is better evidence for theism than for atheism, then it is actually theism which is the more ordinary claim.

The skeptic must therefore demonstrate the evidential basis for his scepticism, and he must do it primarily with philosophy; for God is not just another “being among beings” taking up space in the empirical realm of the universe; rather, God is the sheer act of “to be” itself.

For while remaining present to the physical world as Creator and Sustainer, God is transcendent of the physical world, unbound by time, space, and matter. Thus trying to prove or disprove God’s existence by scientific evidence alone is as absurd as trying to prove or disprove Napoleon’s historical existence by geometry alone.

Thus the unbeliever is not exempt from a burden of proof, for even he is making a knowledge claim about reality: that God does not in fact exist. We wouldn’t let someone off the hook for asserting that they know aliens don’t exist. Rather, we would demand qualifying evidence for such a conclusive statement instead of accepting it as self evident.

So I would agree that if indeed there is no good evidence for a given belief, then to claim the contrary is to make an extraordinary claim. If an unorthodox claim is asserted—that unicorns exist, for example—there would be a burden of proof to show good evidence (or what philosophers call a defeater) for the commonly held belief that unicorns don’t actually exist.

Of course, in the case of unicorns there is no good evidence for their existence, and there is good evidence for its mythological fabrication. But unlike the arguments for unicornism—if there are any—the arguments for theism are a force to be reckoned with (as Trent Horn demonstrates in Answering Atheism and Hard Sayings) as they draw widely and deeply from philosophy, history, and science.

Thus the take-home point can be boiled down to this: the assertion “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence” requires further qualifications in order to function as an acceptable principle of reason. Merely asserting it is not enough to validate it.

Furthermore, what is needed to reasonably believe any claim seems to be just good evidence; or evidence that makes a claim more reasonable to believe than its opposite.

There are a couple things I can appreciate about the “Who designed the Designer?” argument.

Although it is rooted in a caricature of the kalam cosmological argument’s first premise ("Whatever begins to exist has a cause"), it is a positive argument for atheism, and it does attempt to deal with the God hypothesis in the only arena where God’s existence may be decisively confirmed or refuted: the arena of philosophy.

The God defended by Christian theists is a transcendent, eternal, and spiritual being. He is the one creator of all physical reality and existed before all of time, space, matter, and energy. Being “outside” the natural world, God cannot be discovered nor refuted by science alone. For this reason the arguments for and against God’s existence must be, in the end, philosophical.

For instance, if the skeptic could expose an error in the formulation of the popular kalam argument—say, that its major premise “Whatever begins to exist has a cause” is false—then this would force one of theism’s most compelling arguments to the chopping block. Indeed, such a refutation has been attempted by astrophysicist Lawrence Krauss, for example, who tried to claim in his book A Universe from Nothing that the universe indeed can and did arise from nothing.

Krauss was critically rebuked in the New York Times by fellow atheist David Albert for equivocating on the word nothing. Of course, even if Krauss had been successful, and the validity of the kalam argument had been seriously maligned, this would still not prove definitively that atheism is true; it would only disprove one theistic argument.

How then can the atheist go the full distance and prove theism false? He can show that a divine attribute (e.g., omniscience) is internally contradictory in itself; he can show that two or more of the divine attributes contradict one another; or he can show that God’s attributes contradict a known fact about the world we live in.

Let’s consider three of God’s best-known divine attributes: his omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence.

First, let’s work out our definition of God a bit more. As noted, God is pure spirit—an immaterial “mind”—who exists outside of time and space. We may also say that he is the perfect act of being itself, and thus all perfections are in him. In other words, God cannot be perfected further because he is infinite perfection.

Because God has no parts, is infinite in being, and is therefore absolutely “simple,” we can say that God’s infinite power is his infinite goodness, which is his infinite knowledge, and so on. Thus in the end, it is much more profitable for us to speak about God in analogies (all-powerful, etc.) and to speak about what God is not (spaceless, etc).

Omniscience

Now let’s consider God’s omniscience. God knows all truths and accepts nothing false as true. But could an all-good God know what it is like to sin? Yes, for God knows all truths; but he doesn't know all truths directly from personal experience. God knows what it is like to sin by knowing what it is like for us to sin.

Now, if God is all-knowing—if he knows everything every person will ever do—what does that mean for our free will? Is such causal liberty an illusion? Not at all. I can know my influenza-stricken, gagging child is about to vomit without causing her to vomit. Foreknowledge does not equal causality.

Omnipotence

This brings us to the claim of God's omnipotence. Is there any philosophical contradiction that can be drawn out of God's infinite power? As we have noted, God cannot sin because he is morally perfect, the perfect standard of what it means to be good. Thus God has the power to do all logically possible things; that is, he has the power to do all meaningful things. That is why he cannot create a four-sided triangle (which is really nothing at all).

Nor can God create a rock that is too heavy for his all-powerful self to lift. Such a notion is meaningless, because it fails to acknowledge how God really is. A bachelor cannot forget his wife’s birthday because he is a bachelor; God cannot be overpowered by any creature because he is omnipotent.

Omnipresence

Finally, what about God’s omnipresence? How can this be so? Well, as long as God is unbound by time and space there is no contradiction. Not only has God created all things, but also his presence is necessary to sustain them in being, just as the presence of hydrogen atoms is necessary to sustain water in being. God is present to all beings, but he is not all beings (that’s pantheism). He is present to all things, and the existence of all things is dependent on his presence, just as the caller of a square dance is present to the dancers on the floor and the existence of the square dance depends on the mind (and voice) of the caller.

Thus God, who contains all perfections within himself, can rightly be referred to as all-powerful, all-good, all-knowing, etc. We cannot say (by the way) that God is a “pre-eminently peerless stinker”—contrary to the charge of Dr. Dawkins—because stinkiness is a privation of a good; but God is perfectly good. Such an assertion of God’s infinite stinkiness is an amusing bit of rhetoric but it does not in the least follow logically from the given philosophical definition of God. It betrays Dawkins’s misunderstanding of who God is.

It suffices to say that philosophical proofs for or against God’s existence will not be sufficiently worked out without rigorous intellectual groundwork. Indeed, the finite limits of human reason that force us into analogies and negative statements about God can sometimes lead to frustration and headaches. But I side with G.K. Chesterton, who acknowledged “the riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.”

If God exists, where is he?

Moreover if God is all-loving and all-powerful why hasn’t he shown himself to the world? He’s all loving: why would he leave any room for doubt? He’s all-powerful: why not reveal himself in the most spectacular of ways that would make unbelief impossible?

I’ll start by admitting that the argument from the hiddenness of God is a reasonable objection; and I’ll also admit that there are days when I wonder to myself in exasperation, “God where are you?” I think it’s a fair question; but just because a question is fair does not mean it’s irrefutable. Good questions often have good answers; and I think this particular question of God’s hiddenness has, in return, some reasonable answers.

This is really an objection regarding an absence of evidence for God. Surely you’ve heard it said that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence; but this isn’t always true. Absence of evidence can be good evidence of absence if:

1. We should expect more evidence than we find (Should there be more evidence?).

2. We exhaust all possible ways of investigation for evidence (Have we done enough looking around?).

But my contention is that (1) God has provided sufficient evidence for reasonable belief (2) thorough investigation reveals good evidence for God’s existence. In other words, the obscurity of God’s presence in the world is not sufficient evidence to prove that God does not exist.

Here are a few points to consider:

First, God is not entirely hidden. He just doesn’t appear today in a way directly accessible to the physical senses, as your friends, spouse or boss do. But discovery by bodily experience is only one way to learn truths. We can also learn things by logic and reason.

At the end of the day, something is convincing people today of God’s existence, and has for the last twenty centuries. Growth in education and scientific advancement has not put a damper on the life of the Church (on the contrary, growth in education and science can historically be attributed largely to the Church). Christians, by and large, don’t just put blind trust in the notion that God exists; they are convinced. This conviction is what drives evangelization (inviting non-believers into the fold), debate, radical life changes at times of conversion, and most impressively, martyrdom. The religious conviction of Christians does not happen coincidentally; reasons drive conversion and belief.

Second, God is all-knowing and we are not. We can think like God, but not as God. Consider the following argument:

1. If God exists, then he would do X, Y, and Z.

2. But he doesn’t do X, Y, and Z.

3. Therefore God does not exist.

The problem with the major premise is that it assumes we can know exactly what it’s like to be God; and more specifically what it’s like to reason as God. But to think with omniscience and act with omnipotence as the eternal Creator is outside of our limited human experience (imagine an ant trying to understand quantum mechanics). We cannot fill God’s shoes. Nor can his “brain” fill our heads. As G. K. Chesterton remarks in Orthodoxy:

“The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.”

God may have good reasons for his “hiddenness” that we just don’t see. But this doesn’t mean we can’t make logical inferences and get part way to a good explanation. We just can’t arrive at a full explanation apart from God’s direct revelation.

Third, God desires man to seek him. We know this because he said it:

“Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” (Matt 7:7-8)

This is not a direct promise from God that he will grant everything at our immediate request, like a genie in a bottle. But God promises providence to all who acknowledge him with trust – like a father to his child – that he will give us what we ask for (provided that we ask for what is good for us).

A 12 year old atheist might pray a desperate prayer to God in hopes that God will reveal himself – but in the end may not “find” God until he is 86 years old and minutes away from physical death. Another 12 year old atheist may pray the same prayer and be knocked onto his knees at the moment he says “Amen”. Why God seems to answer some prayers immediately, and not others, is a mystery. Likely it is often ourselves – and not God – who stand in the way of God’s immediate “delivery of the goods”. Or it may be that God desires for us to struggle for a while – perhaps for a long while – that we might grow or be improved in some way.

God is not interested in numbing us from all pain and suffering in this life. Christianity is not a get-out-of-suffering-free card. God is interested in granting us eternity, free of all suffering and pain and illuminated by unimaginable joy, in the next life: in life after death in heaven, andlife after life after death at our bodily resurrection.

The more we seek God, the more he’s likely to reveal himself. The more he reveals himself, the more we’ll come to know him. Remember Aslan’s words to Lucy in Prince Caspian,

“Every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

Fourth, it may be that God desires only those who seek him to see him. This was Blaise Pascal’s best guess. God has revealed himself in such a way, posits Pascal, that those who seek him sincerely will indeed find him, but those who do not seek him will not. He writes:

“It was not, then, right that He should appear in a manner manifestly divine, and completely capable of convincing all men; but it was also not right that He should come in so hidden a manner that He could not be known by those who should sincerely seek Him.

He has willed to make himself….appear openly to those who seek Him with all their heart, and to be hidden from those who flee from Him with all their heart. He so regulates the knowledge of Himself that He has given signs of Himself, visible to those who seek Him, and not to those who seek Him not.” (Pensee 430)

Fifth, there are sufficient reasons to believe in God despite his “hiddenness”. There are good reasons to believe in God and these reasons drive our hope. God is hidden now; but not forever, provided we persevere in faith and love to the end (see Mat 10:22, Matt 15:4-7; Rom 11:22).

St. Paul writes that “Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made” (Rom 1:20). Vatican I confirmed that we can know God exists through reason alone. And the point is this: we cannot see God directly in nature – but we can see his footprints, as it were. St. Thomas Aquinas developed this idea and demonstrated the truth of St. Paul’s claim in the 13th century, particularly in his Summa Theologiae and Summa Contra Gentiles building upon the intellectual foundation of pagan philosophers like Aristotle and Plato.

If the universe had a beginning (as many scientists, both atheist and believer, are willing to grant), there are good explanations for it. The kalam cosmological argument and the Leibniz’ argument from contingency give air-tight philosophical explanations (using science to support their premises) for how the universe must have a cause that is eternal, spiritual, all-powerful and intentional. Furthermore, logical incoherencies of an actual infinity of past events make an eternal universe improbable. But even if the world was eternal, according to Aquinas’ arguments the world still needs and explanation outside of itself – an explanation that points to a being who looks very much like God.

Thus the origin of the universe (and the vastly improbable life-permitting universe we find ourselves in) give us good reasons to believe in an all-powerful Creator; and the argument from objective morality suggest that God is, in fact, all-good and the standard of all goodness.

God has given us good reasons to believe in an intelligent Creator; and indeed these reasons have convinced most through the ages. We might thus ask the atheist: On what basis should we expect more evidence from him?

Sixth, God may not want to “scare” us into belief. Perhaps God has given us just enough evidence of himself to keep us interested in him, that we might continually seek him. A direct revelation of God hat cannot be denied my just scare people into obedience. But God wants obedience from his children out of love, not out of fear. Seeing God is not have faith in him:

Remember the words of St. James: “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder” (Jas 2:19)

Seventh, God’s hiddenness allows us to help one another to believe. This explanation has been proposed by philosopher Richard Swinburne. God has revealed himself enough so that many people have come to believe – the Church has not tired. But many people are tired because they do not have hope.

God’s hiddenness gives believers an opportunity to have compassion, and to grow in virtue, particularly towards unbelievers. It provides an opportunity to evangelize, to grow in patience, gentleness and reverence, and to grow in faith ourselves by responding to tough skeptical objections. If God’s existence was obvious to the whole world, apologetics and evangelization might look a lot different than it does.

Eighth, the testimony of miracles are temporary events where God does in fact reveal himself in a more accessible way. There are many miracles described in the Bible. But miracles – events in nature that require a supernatural explanation – are not a thing of the past.

David Hume believed that miracles were not part of human experience; but scholar Craig Keener begs to differ. Keener has assembled a massive two-volume work demonstrating that, in fact, millions of people even today claim to have experienced a miracle through belief in God (perhaps through prayer or some other religious means).

Of course, testimony itself doesn’t prove the validity of the claim, but based on the numbers it very well could be that at least one of these is a true miracle (indeed there are many accounts of atheist investigators, medical specialists for example, who are hired to investigate and become believers as a result of their findings).

It only takes one miracle to show God’s existence. And as long as God’s existence remains possible, miracles remain possible. I think there are good reason to believe God has revealed himself, time and time again through the ages, by miraculous intervention.

Ninth, an apparently supreme and undeniable manifestation of God’s existence may not guarantee “God did it”. A “sign in the sky”, for example, could be aliens playing a prank on us. Sounds silly. How would you know for certain it wasn’t?

A much more convincing manifestation of divine existence would be God actually dwelling among us in the flesh; but would this guarantee faith in those who encounter him?

Tenth, God has revealed himself to us directly. He did so in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus was born of a virgin, possessed inexplicable wisdom (even as a child) that shocked the “educated”, turned water into wine, multiplied loaves and fishes, prophecied and fulfilled prophecies, calmed storms, performed exorcisms, restored the dead to life, triggered radical conversions, performed countless physical healings, loved like only God could love, died a terrible death on the cross after being scourged half to death, and finally – rose from the dead in a glorified body that could pass through walls yet still eat broiled fish.

Jesus claimed to be the one God of the Israel – the one God of the universe – and gave the people he encountered every reason to believe it. Yet people still disbelieved firmly; even firmly enough to execute him in the end.

Maybe God knows that a more obvious – even blatant – presence in the world right now wouldn’t be the “Ah ha!” moment many skeptics believe it would be.

Maybe God’s hiddenness is an act of mercy.

Down in adoration falling,
Lo! the sacred Host we hail,
Lo! oe’r ancient forms departing
Newer rites of grace prevail;
Faith for all defects supplying,
Where the feeble senses fail.

Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett and the late Christopher Hitchens—these are the posterboys for what some have called the “New Atheists”.

What’s new about the New Atheists? In his book, Gunning For God, Oxford mathematician John Lennox says it’s their tone and emphasis.

The tone of today’s New Atheists is one of intensity and aggression. They are not out to merely inform. They are out to convert—to de-vangelize. In the The God Delusion, Dawkins admits:

“If this book works as I intend, religious leaders who open it will be atheists when they put it down.” (p. 28)

The fearless polemicist, Christopher Hitchens, visited the University of Toronto in 2006 and—to the roaring applause of the crowd—he rallied his troops with these words:

“I think religion should be treated with ridicule, hatred and contempt, and I claim that right.”

In Letters To A Young Contrarian, Hitchens writes:

“I’m not even an atheist so much as I’m an antitheist”.

These words reflect precisely the intention and emphasis of the New Atheists and their disciples: to put an end to religion, or as Sam Harris has put it:

“To destroy the intellectual and moral pretensions of Christianity in its most committed forms.” (Letter To A Christian Nation, p.ix)

But the New Atheists are not the only atheists out there today. Indeed some modern atheists object rather strongly to the tact of their counterparts. Atheist Paul Kurtz, founder of the The Center For Inquiry (a secular humanist organization), is cited as giving the new atheists the following assessment:

“I consider them atheist fundamentalists,” he says. “They’re anti-religious, and they’re mean-spirited, unfortunately. Now, they’re very good atheists and very dedicated people who do not believe in God. But you have this aggressive and militant phase of atheism, and that does more damage than good.” (Barbara Bradley Hagerty, “A Bitter Rift Divides Atheists”)

Another skeptic who has given a critical assessment of the “anti-theist” division of popular atheists, is BBC Radio personality, John Humphrys, an agnostic. Here is how he responds to seven common New Atheist attitudes in his book, In God We Doubt (I have reconfigured the statement/response format for easier reading):

1. Believers are mostly naive or stupid. Or, at least, they’re not as clever as atheists.

To which Humphreys responds:

“This is so clearly untrue it’s barely worth bothering with. Richard Dawkins, in his best selling The God Delusion, was reduced to producing a “study” by Mensa that purported to show an inverse relationship between intelligence and belief. He also claimed that only a very few members of the Royal Society believe in a personal god. So what? Somebelievers are undoubtedly stupid (witness the creationists) but I’ve met one or two atheists I wouldn’t trust tochange a light-bulb.”

2. The few clever ones are pathetic because they need a crutch to get them through life.

To which Humphrys responds:

“Don’t we all? Some use booze rather than the Bible. It doesn’t prove anything about either.”

3. They are also pathetic because they can’t accept the finality of death.

To which Humphrys responds:

“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Count the number of atheists in the foxholes or the cancer wards.”

4. They have been brainwashed into believing. There is no such thing as a “Christian child”, for instance—just a child whose parents have had her baptised.

To which Humphrys responds:

“True, and many children reject it when they get older. But many others stay with it.”

5. They have been bullied into believing.

To which Humphrys responds:

“This is also true in many cases but you can’t actually bully someone into believing—just into pretending to believe.”

6. If we don’t wipe out religious belief by next Thursday week, civilisation as we know it is doomed.

To which Humphrys responds:

“Of course the mad mullahs are dangerous and extreme Islamism is a threat to be taken seriously. But we’ve survived monotheist religion for 4, 000 years or so, and  I can think of one or two other things that are a greater threat to civilisation.”

7. Trust me: I’m an atheist.

To which Humphrys responds:

“Why?”

He adds:
“I make no apology if I have oversimplified their views with a little list: it’s what they do to believers all the time.”
 
 
(Image credit: Wales Online)

Richard Dawkins believes that if the universe began to exist—it was caused by nothing. In a debate with Cardinal George Pell in 2012 he asserted:

"Of course it's counterintuitive that you can get something from nothing! Of course common sense doesn't allow you get something from nothing! That's why it's interesting. It's got to be interesting in order to give rise to the universe at all!"

He was right about at least two things: to get something from nothing is both counterintuitive and in opposition to common sense. But in light of mounting evidence for an absolute beginning to the universe, such confidence in nothing is reflective of the radical measures taken by atheists—such as Dawkins, Steven Hawking, Lawrence Krauss, Peter Atkins and others—to avoid postulating a divine Designer as the kick-starter of our finely-tuned, expanding universe.

Atheists know that anything which begins to exist must have a cause of its existence. This expectation drives scientific research. But in the case of the origin of the universe there seems to be an extreme aversion to the basic philosophical principle that "out of nothing, no thing comes". Thus atheists object to Lucretius' ancient maxim: "Nothing can be created from nothing". Science is founded on the principle that "things cause things". But wouldn't it seem equally true that "no thing causes no thing"? Yet, as we've seen atheists will make an exception, postulating nothing as a cause, in order to avoid the God conclusion (although it seems that often their description of "nothing" is a description of some thing leaving the question of the ultimate cause of things still open and unanswered).

Indeed such reasoning could make a first-year philosophy student cringe—not to mention professional philosophers such as Dawkins' fellow atheist, Michael Ruse, who once remarked, "I think Dawkins is ignorant of just about every aspect of philosophy and theology and it shows". Regardless, Dawkins and others continue to persist in this line of philosophically problematic thinking—what G.K. Chesterton might have called "uncommon nonsense"—while nonetheless enjoying strong influence on their atheist followers.

In an interview with PBS Dawkins was asked to comment on the hypothesis that God is the designer of whole evolutionary system. His negative answer reflects the same key principle he uses to deny God as the Big Banger of the universe:

"You start with essentially nothing—you start with something very, very simple—the origin of the Earth. And from that, by slow gradual degrees, as I put it "climbing mount improbable"—by slow gradual degree you build up from simple beginnings and simple needs easy to understand, up to complicated endings like ourselves and kangaroos."

Thus, such atheists postulate "nothing" as the cause of the universe because, on their view, nothing is "very, very simple" and God is not. And according to Dawkins and company the Big Bang (and the subsequent forward-moving evolutionary processes) must reflect a transition from the simple to the complex. From a simple molecule to a more complex molecule; from a single-celled organism to a multi-celled organism; from absolutely nothing to a universe. Therefore, on their view, simple nothing is preferable to a complex god as the Grand Cause of things; God is too complex to be the cause of the simple beginnings of the universe and the biological processes contained within.

But I want to point several important considerations in regard to this atheistic objection that God is too complex to be the cause of the universe (and the processes within):

First, the complex God they reject is not the God of Christianity. They might have ruled out a god of complexity, but not the God of simplicity proposed by Christian theists. This error is often committed by skeptics when they paint God with a suspicious similarity to themselves while failing to factor in His most essential supernatural characteristics; and a problematic creation of God in man's image and likeness results.

Dawkins' language betrays this tendency in his PBS interview:

"For one thing, if I were God wanting to make a human being, I would do it by a more direct way rather than by evolution."

Albert Einstein, a deist (and perhaps this sheds some light on why he remained so), says something similar:

"When I am judging a theory, I ask myself whether, if I were God, I would have arranged the world in such a way" (Einstein: His Life And Universe, Walter Isaacson, p. 551)

These men are placing themselves into the shoes of God, assuming they would know how an all-powerful, all-knowing Creator of the universe would act. Though they might be men of great intelligence, they are not all-knowing nor all-powerful; nor are they eternal or supernatural. God is in this sense wholly other than man; therefore God may very well have reasons for setting things up as he has; and such reasons may be beyond what our limited intellects can grasp.

Furthermore, they reject a complex God; but the God of Christianity is inconceivably simple. Therefore the god they reject on the basis of over-complexity is not the Christian God.

Second, God has no parts and is therefore more simple than anything in nature. God is pure spirit, by definition. He is completely non-physical. Eminent philosopher from the University of Notre Dame, Alvin Plantinga, has pointed out that by Dawkins' own description of God as a spiritual Being he has, perhaps unknowingly, admitted the simplicity of God as a pure spirit devoid of parts.

The atheist case fails to make key distinctions between a mind and its ideas. As philosopher William Lane Craig has clarified:

"Certainly such a mind may have complex ideas—it may be thinking, for example, of the infinitesimal calculus—, but the mind itself is a remarkably simple entity. Dawkins has evidently confused a mind's ideas, which may, indeed, be complex, with a mind itself, which is an incredibly simple entity."

Third, the basic Christian definition of God is simple enough to be accepted by non-Christian religions. Antony Flew, the influential 20th century atheist philosopher (who eventually became a deist) writes:

“This strikes me as a bizarre thing to say about the concept of an omnipotent spiritual Being. What is complex about the idea of an omnipotent and omniscient Spirit, an idea so simple that it is understood by all the adherents of the three great monotheistic religions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam?” (There Is A God, p. 111).

In his Summa Theologica, St. Thomas Aquinas shows five ways we can know "the absolute simplicity of God" as understood from a Christian perspective. (see also Karlo Broussard's article here).

Fourth, the creation event is not a natural event. Therefore any rule observed in nature (such as the proposed "simple to complex" rule) does not necessarily apply to the origin of the universe.

All of nature (time, space, matter, energy) and its laws came into existence with the Big Bang. Any cause before the beginning of the universe would not be a natural cause; it would be a supernatural cause. The "simple to complex" principle may apply to natural events, but an event that involves a transcendent, supernatural cause—a divine intervener—cannot be analyzed (and restricted) in the same way as natural events. The boundaries of science limit it to the physical world of time, space, matter and energy; in other words, science is limited to the moment of and after the Big Bang, but not before it. We must, therefore, look to other methods of acquiring knowledge—such as philosophy or perhaps even theology—in order to find good answers to questions such as "Why did the universe begin to exist?"

Fifth, the "simple to complex" rule may have exceptions. Oxford mathematician, John Lennox, has offered this possibility in his debates with Richard Dawkins and Peter Atkins. Lennox offers the example of a book and its author. The design of a book suggests a designer. But the designer of the book—the author—is much more complex than the book itself. Therefore it seems in some cases that a thing may have a cause more complex than itself.

Sixth, an effect cannot be greater than its cause. Boston College philosopher, Dr. Peter Kreeft, writes:

"But doesn't evolution explain everything without a divine Designer? Just the opposite; evolution is a beautiful example of design, a great clue to God. There is very good scientific evidence for the evolving, ordered appearance of species, from simple to complex." (from "Argument From Design")

The evolutionary process seems to know where it's going. Thus the order and intentional nature of such an evolutionary system appears to point towards a cause greater than itself—which would be congruent with the basic philosophical principle that an effect cannot have more in it than its cause. Kreeft admits that there is very good scientific evidence for the evolving, ordered appearance of species, from simple to complex; but if such a "simple to complex" process exists then what set it in motion? And furthermore, what mechanism keeps it on course?

If an ordered process like evolution exists, so must a more-ordered and intelligent—or in God's case perfectly ordered and omniscient—cause of the evolutionary system. Dawkins admits that:

"Darwinian natural selection can produce an uncanny illusion of design." (from "Big Ideas: Evolution")

He writes that evolution's "guiding force is natural selection". But if this is true: what guides natural selection? If he says nothing—then the guiding force called Natural Selection begins to look rather similar to a transcendent, intentional and intelligent cause camouflaged in a scientific-sounding name.

Final Thoughts

Nobel Laureate in physics, Dr. Richard Feyman, has expressed that "you can recognize truth by its beauty and simplicity". On this, I think, theists and atheists can agree. I also think it is clear, based on the considerations proposed, that the Christian God is not the complex deity commonly rejected by atheist scientists. God, as he really is, is pure simplicity which is reflected in His name: I Am.

Indeed science must proceed for the sake of the Christian apologetic. For as we unfold the natural mysteries of the universe through scientific discovery, the reality and necessity of God for explaining the universe and all it contains will continue to be more clearly revealed. As the theoretical physicist Paul Davies, an agnostic, admitted in his Templeton address: "Science can proceed only if the scientist adopts an essentially theological worldview".

The God of absolute simplicity we propose is not the "God of the gaps"; at least not the God of the scientific gaps. We might say, however, that God is the God of the limitless gap that lies beyond the confines of the universe (or universes if you prefer). He is the explanation that fills the void beyond the boundaries of time, space, matter and energy and thus provides a explanation for those things that cannot be explained by science. Truly, science and theology fit together exquisitely as the history of science forcefully testifies. But sadly for those who continue to reject the existence of God, nothing will remain the explanation of everything—and the supernatural gap beyond the universe will remain unfilled.

For more on the same topic read Cows, Quarks and Divine Simplicity by Brother Athanasius Murphy, O.P.

Western civilization is greatly indebted to the Catholic Church. Modern historical studies—such as Dr. Thomas E. Woods' How The Catholic Church Built Western Civilization—have demonstrated with force and clarity that it is the Catholic Church who has been the primary driving force behind the development and progress of the civilized world.

The Church has provided innumerable 'goods' for the benefit of humanity. Nonetheless, modern critics assert that no amount of good could outweigh the evil the Church has allegedly committed in contrast. Talk is cheap, however. We must look at the evidence. Has the Church really been an irreconcilable force for evil in the world?

Big Questions

There are three principal issues repeatedly brought to the table by adversaries of the Catholic Church: religious violence, priest scandals, and ill-treatment of women. But do these objections hold water when their integrity is put to the test? And are they enough to render the Church "no good" in our final analysis?

Now let's be clear: throughout the duration of this piece, I am not seeking in any way to deny or defend the sins of any Catholic individual or group. The chief question I propose is not whether there have been malicious members of the Catholic Church (there obviously have been). The question at hand is whether the Catholic Church as a whole ought to be considered a force for evil.

Let's consider briefly the general assertion that religion is the chief cause of violence in the world. This position, in fact, is not supported by the data. Joe Heschmeyer has shown this quite articulately in his recent article at Strange Notions, Is Religion Responsible For The World's Violence?

Evil members of a Church do not necessarily indicate an evil Church. One must be cautious; because this line of reasoning commits an error in logic called the fallacy of composition. We would not say, "the elephant consists of tiny parts, therefore the elephant is tiny"; and thus, we should not say that the Church is sinister because she has sinister members. The parts do not necessarily define the whole; and in the case of the Catholic Church, the parts justify the whole. As G.K Chesterton writes in The Everlasting Man:

“The Church is justified, not because her children do not sin, but because they do. ”

Reclaiming The Homeland

Sound historical scholarship has shown—contrary to what modern textbooks might falsely suggest—that the Crusades ought not be considered such a black mark in Catholic Church history. Dr. Diane Moczar summarizes the facts in her historical defense, Seven Lies About Catholic History:

"To recapitulate: the Crusades were a response to unprovoked Muslim aggression against Christian states, as well as a response to the enslavement, killing and persecution of countless followers of Christ. They were not examples of European colonialism or imperialism, which lay far in the future, nor were they intended to convert anybody; they were a military answer to a military attack." (p.73)

Moczar demonstrates that the Crusades were largely just (see CCC 2302-2317) and with far-reaching benefits for the people of Europe. She cites historian Louis Bréhier, who also concludes:

"It would be unjust to condemn out of hand these five centuries of heroism which had such fertile results for the history of Europe and which left behind in the consciences of modern peoples a certain ideal of generosity and a taste for sacrifice on behalf of noble causes....." (from The Crusades: The Victory Of Idealism)

Steven Weidenkopf, a lecturer of Church History at the Notre Dame Graduate School of Christendom College, has also clarified the true nature of the Crusades in his footnote-laden treatise, The Glory of the Crusades. Weidenkopf's title is bold, but his analysis is fair and evidence based. In his scholarly assessment of the Crusades he carefully notes:

"To recognize the glory of the Crusades means not to whitewash what was ignoble about them, but to call attention to the import in the life of the Church" (p.14).

Moczar likewise recognizes that not all things regarding the Crusades are to be "glorified." Nonetheless, both Moczar and Weidenkopf decisively demonstrate in their research that, by and large, the Catholic Church's participation in the Crusades ought not be considered evil nor unjust.

Handling Heretics

The real story of the Inquisition is—like the Crusades—not congruent with what one finds in today's error-ridden history textbooks.

Statistics regarding the total number of Inquisition-related deaths have been shamefully embellished by antagonists of the Church, with some asserting numbers in the millions. Though the precise numbers are foggy, recent scholarship has put the number of deaths at just a few thousand over several centuries.

Modern research by historical experts, such as Henry Kamen, Benzion Netanyahu and Edward M. Peters, have demonstrated that the Inquisition was not nearly as harsh or cruel as popularly suggested. Overturning traditional views, they have shown that the Church courts were often both patient and fair in their treatment of heretics. In fact, Church officials were so reasonable in the Inquisition process that heretics in the secular courts (heresy was also a political concern) would blaspheme with hope that they might be transferred to the more merciful Church inquisitors.

This is not to deny, however, that the actions of some Christians were unjust. Moczar concludes:

"Were there cruel inquisitors in some places? Of course. Were methods of interrogation distasteful to modern sensibilities? Sure... [But] given its formidable task of guarding the purity of the Faith in Christian souls, however, the overall record of the Inquisition in dealing with heresy is not only defensible but admirable." (p. 102)

Celibacy Isn't The Problem

This is not a defense of the guilty. It is a defense of the unjustly accused and stigmatized. The data is clear—celibate Catholic priests are no more likely to abuse children than clergy from any another denomination, or even teachers and other secular adult leadership. As Ernie Allen, the president of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, has stated:

“We don’t see the Catholic Church as a hotbed of this [abuse] or a place that has a bigger problem than anyone else." (Pat Wingert, “Mean Men,” Newsweek, April 8, 2010)

Professor of psychology, Dr. Thomas Plante, agrees with Allen:

"Catholic clergy aren’t more likely to abuse children than other clergy or men in general." ("Do the Right Thing", psychologytoday.com, March 24, 2010)

Celibacy is not the problem—and Dr. Chris Kaczor has made this decisively clear. He summarizes the evidence with this statement:

"The evidence is substantial and confirmed by psychologists, researchers, and insurance companies: Priestly celibacy is not a risk factor for the sexual abuse of children." ("Celibacy Isn't The Problem", This Rock, vol. 21, 5)

In his vastly informative book, The Seven Big Myths about the Catholic Church, Dr. Kaczor's research conclusively disarms the celibacy-leads-to-pedophilia myth and puts it to rest once and for all.

Indeed, Catholic clergy should be held to a higher standard—the highest standard in fact—but it is unreasonable to condemn the whole priesthood because of the sins of an ultra-minority. There is simply no good reason to fear Catholic clergy any more than other religious leaders, teachers or the general population. I say without hesitation (and as a dad) that Catholic priests, by and large, are among the most trustworthy citizens of our society today. And the data agrees.

"She Shall Be Called Woman"

Finally, is the Church's view on women really immoral? Let's begin with the fiery issue of "female ordination": Why aren't women allowed to serve as priests in the Church? Is this not a violation of gender equality?

Properly understood, this is a matter of the Church's incapability to ordain women due to what a Catholic priest is. It is the nature of the priesthood that makes female ordination an impossibility. These key facts may help to underline this point:

I) Jesus called twelve apostles, all of whom were men (Mk 3:14-19; Lk 6:12-16)

II) The twelve apostles ordained men only to succeed them (1 Tim 3:1-13; 2 Tim 1:6; Titus 1:5-9)

III) These men were given a special gift and authority to serve in persona Christi or "in the person of Christ" (see 2 Cor 2:10; John 20:21-23)

IV) Christ was a man; therefore those who serve "in his person" must also be men.

Therefore a female Catholic priest is about as possible as a male mother. The nature of the Catholic priesthood renders female ordination impossible, just as male mothers are an impossibility because of the nature of motherhood. Indeed, male-only ordination is discriminatory; but this is not a matter of preference but of deference to the "nature of things"; for it is the nature of nature to discriminate.

St. John Paul the Great understood this with profound clarity:

"The Church has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women and...this judgment is to be definitively held by all the Church’s faithful" (Ordinatio Sacerdotalis 4).

What was Jesus' attitude toward women? Once again, we turn to the words of St. John Paul the Great:

"When it comes to setting women free from every kind of exploitation and domination, the gospel contains an ever relevant message that goes back to the attitude of Jesus Christ himself. Transcending the established norms of his own culture, Jesus treated women with openness, respect, acceptance, and tenderness. In this way he honored the dignity that women have always possessed according to God's plan and in his love." (Letter to Women, 3)

Like her Founder, the Catholic Church reveres 'woman' and attributes to her the highest dignity. The mother of Christ, for example, has been widely revered by Catholics from the earliest centuries of Christianity as the mother of all Christians (Jn 19:26-27). No person in history—except perhaps Christ Himself—has received more love and honour than Mary. The Church has also named four female Doctors of the Church—Sts. Teresa of Avila, Catherine of Siena, Therese of Lisieux and Hildegard of Bingen—and recognized them for their extraordinary influence on the life of the universal Christian Church.

And is it not true that women largely tend to avoid places where they are unfairly discriminated against and patronized? If the Catholic Church really treated women unjustly, would we not expect a female aversion to the Church? Surely. But this is not what we find.

Notre Dame theologian, Catherine Lacugna, states:

85% of those responsible for altar preparation are women. Over 80% of the CCD (religious formation) teachers and sponsors of the catechumenate are women. Over 75% of adult Bible study leaders or participants are women. Over 70% of those who are active in parish renewal and spiritual growth are women, and over 80% of those who join prayer groups are women. Nearly 60% of those involved with youth groups and recreational activities are women. (Catholic Women As Ministers And Theologians, 240)

Women are not afraid of the Church. They are attracted to it. Why? Because she fights for the beauty and dignity of femininity as no other institution on earth does.

Referring to the words of his saintly predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI said these words in praise of women:

"As my venerable and dear Predecessor John Paul II wrote in his Apostolic Letter Mulieris Dignitatem: "The Church gives thanks for each and every woman.... The Church gives thanks for all the manifestations of the feminine 'genius' which have appeared in the course of history, in the midst of all peoples and nations." (General Audience, February 14, 2007)

Final Thoughts

In the final analysis, the Catholic Church is unquestionably a force for good in the world—indeed a force for greatness. She always has been; and because the gates of hell can never prevail against her, she always will be. We have Christ's promise.

Yes, the Church has proven herself to be the lifeline of our civilization—and without her—humanity will fail to thrive. As the great defender of the Church, Hilaire Belloc, concluded in Survivals And New Arrivals:

"If the influence of the Church declines, civilization will decline with it... Our civilization is as much a product of the Catholic Church as the vine is the product of a particular climate. Take the vine to another climate and it will die."

May God continue to bless His Church for goodness' sake.
 
 
(Image credit: New York News)