One professor
Mawson recently requested that atheists
pray to God in order to experience for themselves the presence or reality of
God. He actually wrote an article persuading atheists to pray. Honestly, I do
not see a point in this Atheist Prayer Experiment. Do you?
If you read the
professorial article, you will find it fiercely utopian and rationally
idealistic. I note his recurring theme on the plausibility of an atheist
praying to God as one likened to this analogy, "It is surely no more
unreasonable than the act of a man adrift in the ocean, trapped in a cave, or
stranded on a mountainside, who cries for help though he may never be heard or
fires a signal which may never be seen."
He also uses the
illustration of a man lost in a dark room calling out, "Is anyone out
there?" He said it is only logical for a man in the dark room to holler
out. So, isn't it equally logical to expect an atheist to pray to God? Is it?
Imagine the likes
of Dawkins, Harris and Dennett availing themselves to such a prayer experiment.
What is one to expect from it? Wouldn't the enduring silence be interpreted as
a false positive (or true negative) and an embarrassing confirmation that God is a figment of the
theist's vivid and sometimes desperate imagination? As one comedian remarked,
"Religion is basically guilt, with different holidays."
I can also imagine
that many doubting Thomases had on numerous occasions closeted themselves in
the privacy of their cellars, basements and rooms to call out to that
Man-in-the-Sky for help in their neediest hour and yet heard nothing but
"pin-drop" silence or mocking echoes. This has to be a very safe bet
to make, or else there won't be enough churches on Sundays to take in the
floodgates of converts
Bertrand Russell
once remarked that believing in God is as absurd as believing that a teapot
revolved around the sun. Why stop at a teapot? Why don't throw in an elephant,
a trapeze act or the whole darn circus, all orbiting around some
beyond-our-telescope planet, singing to the choruses of Eurythmics' "sweet
dreams are made of this"?
The point is that
Christianity falls short on direct physical evidence and that's an undeniable
fact (at times, it can be quite a frustratingly lamentable one). If it was
otherwise, there would be no need for any form of evangelism since miracles,
that is, physical-law-defying occurrences, would be happening everywhere at
anytime for everybody to marvel at; like raindrop, snowflake and lolly pop.
Is God playing hide
and seek with the atheists? God says that "you will find me if you seek me
with all your heart." Didn't many atheists and agnostics, who were in the
throes of their trials and tribulations, once seek Him with all their heart,
mind and even streaming tears and found nothing but a silent wall with no one
on the other side?
Why didn't God show
Himself to them? Are we to infer His irrefutable existence from the silence and
His divine hiddenness? Should the atheist utter these words of an orphan:
"I know I have a father but I can't see or hear him because he is never
around"?
Going back full
circle, I guess the prayer experiment is an exercise in futility. If an atheist
wants to believe in God, he has to accept Him by faith and faith is
antithetical to empirical proof. Faith is believing even before believing could
be wholly proven. Faith is "reason gone courageous".
In the conclusion
of the article, he wrote, "And whilst it was an atheist, Bertrand Russell,
who said that were he to meet God in the afterlife, he would chide Him for not
having provided enough ante-mortem evidence of His existence, we do not know if
Russell anticipated what he would then say were God to reply to him, ‘Well, you
didn’t ask me for any, did you?"
I think a better
reply would be, "my son, the evidence is everywhere. You just refused to
see it."
In a debate with
scientist Francis Collins, Richard Dawkins once exclaimed, "There could be
something incredibly grand and incomprehensible and beyond our present
understanding." Collins interjected, "That's God!" I think that
is the position I take.
Einstein once said,
"I'm not an atheist, and I don't think I can call myself a pantheist. We
are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books
in many languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It
does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are
written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the
books but doesn't know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of
even the most intelligent human being towards God."
Are the Dawkins and
Hitchens of this world less than the intelligent beings we would normally
expect in the view of the Einsteinses of this world?
Predating Einstein,
Charles Darwin once wrote, "When thus reflecting, I feel compelled to look
to a First Cause having an intelligent mind in some degree analogous to that of
man; I deserve to be called a Theist." (Autobiography of Charles Darwin
1809-1882, Nora Barlow).
CS Lewis added that
he believes in God "as I believe the sun has risen, not only because I see
it, but because by it I see everything else."
How about these
theistic insinuations from physicist Freeman Dyson, "The more I examine
the universe and study the details of its architecture, the more evidence I
find that the universe in some sense knew we were coming."
Finally, how many
popular atheists of today are prepared to echo these words by the
atheist-turn-deist Professor Antony Flew, "I am open to omnipotence...I am
entirely open to learning more about the divine Reality."
So I say
foolhardily that we believe that there may be a teapot orbiting around the sun.
Or a circus playing in some far-flung planet beyond our scope, chanting
"Sweet Dreams".
Because to the
secular world, there's nothing crazier than a Christian subscribing to a belief
that an all-powerful God, who created the vastness of the universe, even
bothered to make His way down to a speck of dust called earth and offer Himself
to die at their hands so that He may raise again to reconcile all of humanity
to Himself.
Now tell me, compare to the orbiting teapot and
revolving circus, which tale is even more exceptional? I guess such
exceptionality only points to either of two things: I as a Christian have gone exceptionally mental, or I have a God who happens to love me exceptionally. Cheers out!
No comments:
Post a Comment