You cannot disprove God either. We may not be able to prove Him ourselves, but you have no proof either that there isn't. Goodbye!
Firstly, if you claim certainty rather than faith, as some Christians definitely do, then the burden of proof is on you. Christians are, however, quite fond of shifting the burden. The only reason it looks like a smart move is because a lot of atheists are reluctant to allow that shift. They’ll likely state that they’re agnostic atheists and as such, they don’t need to prove to you that gods don’t exist. Unfortunately for theists who’ve tried this move on me, I’m not reluctant to allow the shift. In fact, I welcome it. I welcome it because I’m given the opportunity to expose the move for what it is: a bad move that is far from strategic. With that said, you’re just another theist in a long line of theists who will see that I can disprove god and more importantly, that there is available evidence to show that your god doesn’t exist.
Since you’re probably one of Bran’s lackeys, if not Bran himself, and you went out of your way to create a whole new blog because you can’t message me anonymously, I’m going to pull no punches. Firstly, I’m going to simply assume you’re Christian given your capitalization of him. Muslims and Jews don’t do that. Only Christians capitalize pronouns when referring to god. Now to the punches. I will do what, for sake of efficiency, I’ve always done. I will, in other words, disprove two modes or persons of the trinity: the father and the son. The holy spirit makes for much murkier waters and since I’m not at all interested in theological, exegetical, soteriological, or eschatological discussions, I simply avoid taking that route. In any case, if you don’t like to read, which I suspect you don’t, you came into the wrong inbox with your cocksureness.
Let’s begin with the father. The father, Yahweh, can easily be disproven on multiple grounds. The route a lot of people wouldn’t take, though I consider it the most effective, is the historical route. One should, in other words, expose the polytheistic origins of Yahweh. Isaiah was written by three authors–namely P (proto), D (deutero), and T (trito). The second author attempted to establish monotheism–perhaps following King Josiah’s decree (Isaiah 44:6, Isaiah 45:5). The polytheistic tradition, though mostly censored in the Bible, can be found in Exodus 20:3. It can also be found in Genesis 1:26 and 11:7–in particular in the terms let us. Modern tradition tells us that these verses speak of the trinity. Trinitarian doctrine is new when compared to these verses. These verses imply the polytheistic pantheon of the ancient Israelites–namely Yahweh, El, Baal and Asherah. El, according to some archaeologists, was Yahweh’s father. How the two came to be considered one and the same is another discussion; in short, an Israelite sect known as Yahwists started that tradition. Asherah, according to most scholars, was considered Yahweh’s wife. So your god wasn’t the only god; he had a father and a wife!
The more common route for one to take is the disproving of Yahweh on moral grounds. According to Proverbs 6, there are six things god hates. Among these are hands that shed innocent blood. Yet there are countless examples of god himself shedding innocent blood or commanding the Israelites to do it.
Now, since I highly suspect you to be one of Bran’s lackeys or Bran himself, I’m going to disarm you by anticipating your response to these verses. You’re going to cite the Nephilim, the offspring of fallen angels and men according to Genesis 6:1-4. Setting aside that Nephilim can’t be used to explain all of these verses, Bran’s interpretation of Nephilim and Rephaim are, as expected from a pretentious idiot who thinks he understands Hebrew, flat-out wrong. Ellen White, the senior editor of the Biblical Archaeology Society has this to say:
It was once claimed that the mating of the sons of god and the daughters of Adam that resulted in the Nephilim caused the flood, and this caused the Nephilim to have a negative reputation. This was believed because the next verse (Genesis 6:5) is the introduction to the flood narrative and because their name means “fallen ones.” It is unlikely that this interpretation is correct because Genesis 6:4 presents nothing but praise for the Nephilim and no criticism is present. In addition, the name “fallen ones” is likely a reference to their divine paternity transforming—falling—into the human condition, albeit an almost superhuman condition.1
Notice how she says, “it was once claimed.” She’s talking about Bran’s interpretation in the past tense. His interpretation is, in other words, outmoded and more importantly, wrong. His interpretation also begs the question: if the flood was meant to wipe them out, how did they show up again? God, in other words, drowned the entire world or, at the very least, an entire region in order to get rid of these Nephilim, but was unsuccessful. Wouldn’t an omniscient being know that his flood wouldn’t succeed? If so, then why flood the world or this particular region to begin with? It reduces to nothing more than a callous act that didn’t achieve his desired result. In connection to the Rephaim, she adds:
Genesis 6, Ezekiel 32, and Numbers 13 are the only passages that mention the Nephilim by that term. So where do the names Rephaim and “the dead ones” originate? The first thing to recognize is that these are not two separate titles, but rather a name, Rephaim, and a meaning, “dead ones.” The Bible refers to two groups as the Rephaim. The first are dead people who have achieved an almost divine status, similar to the concept of Saints. The second is a term that is applied to races of Biblical giants. It is this second usage that is often conflated with the Nephilim.
The Rephaim appear in Deuteronomy 2:11; 3:11; 2 Samuel 21:19 and Joshua 11:22 and almost always take the form of one member of the Rephaim (Anaqim, Og, Goliath) being in opposition with Israel or its representative. In this sense, the Rephaim live up to their name, as their purpose in each narrative is to die. The juxtaposition of the mighty Biblical giants defeated by the underdog, God’s chosen, is foreshadowed in the very name attributed to these characters.2
Given this, the notion that Nephilim and Rephaim refer to the same entity is entirely mistaken or, at best, partially right. Further issue can be taken with the fact that Nephilim is interpreted in two other ways: descendants of Seth and children of rich, powerful noblemen. Every interpretation of what they were is problematic, but Bran’s is most problematic–most especially because it’s outdated and no longer accepted by Christians. The fact is that Bran needs this nonsense belief to keep himself from espousing Craig-like Divine Command Theory, i.e., the fact that god murdered infants or commanded their murder makes the command or act good. He also needs this belief to absolve his god of otherwise unspeakable crimes. Furthermore, he needs this belief in order to keep himself from inconsistency; he, in other words, doesn’t accept original sin and therefore, inherited sin, and so he can’t argue that these infants and children were murdered due to the sins of their parents.
The other route you or Bran will take is allusion to the Moral Argument and believe me, it is mere allusion. If asked, he wouldn’t be able to actually formulate the argument without referring to some apologetic website. I’ve linked him to a number of responses before, but since I suspect that you’re either him or an angry lackey of his, I’m going to obliterate both the Moral Argument and the notion that atheists can’t have sound justification for their ethical views. I will, in other words, frame his view explicitly–which isn’t to say that I won’t deal with its implications. I will then frame my view, which is neither utilitarianism, i.e., as Bran says “the greater good,” normative relativism (which Bran thinks is the ethical view every atheist espouses), nor subjectivism (which is a view that Bran conflates with normative relativism whilst foisting onto every atheist he speaks to). To put it another way, he always says that without god, we’re left to our subjective human whims. This will no doubt be proven wrong.
You, Bran, and any espouser of the Moral Argument share a view known as substantive realism, which is the view that states that “there are correct procedures for answering moral questions because there are moral truths or facts, which exist independently of those procedures, and which those procedures track.”3
Let’s consider the fatal flaws your position has:
Whether you argue that morality is simply objective or it’s objective because it hinges on god, your view begs the question and thus isn’t justified. Begging the question is a fallacy, so a view that begs the question cannot be correct.
Your view is unjustifiably metaphysical. It, in other words, argues that morality is innate. It cannot be learned. It is part of the maker’s mark that god supposedly imprinted in us.
Given that your view begs the question, we need to look elsewhere; in other words, given that it isn’t enough to posit that morality is contingent on a deity, we’ve more work to do. Your view is, therefore, bankrupt.
Before explicitly naming my view, the notion alluded to in the second bullet point–which is, in fact, the notion alluded to by any proponent of the Moral Argument–was put to rest by the father of empiricism, John Locke. He argued that moral principles are not innate. One reason for this is because they aren’t universally assented to. We don’t come to immediate consensus on right and wrong the way we do when concerning the laws of logic. To put it another way, no matter the person or culture, the laws of identity, of non-contradiction, and of excluded middle are universally agreed upon. If any person fails to act in accordance with those laws, that person has failed to think or has lost his/her capacity to reason. This is not the case with morality. To my mind, Locke refuted that once and for all.
He argues, for instance, that the consensus on whether an action is right or wrong had everything to do with how generalized the action was. Proponents of the Moral Argument argue that we all know it’s wrong to lie, to murder, or to rape, and from this, they conclude that morality proceeds from god and since we’re created in his image, moral values and duties have been ingrained in our souls since creation. Yet if we were to get more specific, agreement dissolves. Have a discussion, for example, on euthanasia, self-defense murder, and Anne Frank-esque sort of lies, i.e., lies that literally save lives or keeps one from harm, and you’ll immediately see that there’s absolutely no consensus on these matters.
The reason is because, as Locke further argued, we are likelier to provide reasons and justifications for our moral behavior. If it’s innate or proceeds from god, there will be no disagreement on these epistemological fronts. We would, in other words, be readily able to show why such an action is right or wrong. There would be no need to prove the correctness or incorrectness of an action, since this would already be known to us.4 Unfortunately, this isn’t the only claim implicit in the Moral Argument, so there’s more to be said.
Enter my view, procedural realism: “there are answers to moral questions because there are correct procedures for arriving at them.”5 Such a procedure would be Kant’s CI procedure or Smith’s problem-solution model. Or it could be something simpler. The procedures could even vary. One thing is clear, however: morality is constructivist and more specifically procedural.
There are four formulas for us to consider6:
1) The Formula of the Law of Nature: “Act as if the maxim of your action were to become through your will a universal law of nature.”
Kant placed a lot of emphasis on autonomy. Modern Kantians like John Rawls and Christine Korsgaard place similar emphasis on autonomy, but they also speak of self-legislation. This formulation is compelling because moral truths could arise from mere human agency rather than divine authority. One may contend that a psychopath would will murder as if it were a universal law of nature. However, like Goldstein, I would argue that morality is akin to crowdsourced knowledge; morality is, in other words, the culmination of human efforts spanning centuries. Rebecca Goldstein puts it this way:
There’s some ideal algorithm for working it out, for assigning weights to different opinions. Maybe we should give more weight to people who have lived lives that they find gratifying and that others find admirable. And, of course, for this to work the crowd has to be huge; it has to contain all these disparate vantage points, everybody who’s starting from their own chained-up position in the cave [Plato’s cave analogy]. It has to contain, in principle, everybody. I mean, if you’re including just men, or just landowners, or just people above a certain IQ, then the results aren’t going to be robust.7
This is a point I often make about moral epistemology. I argue that there are moral classes that are roughly analogous to economic classes. Some people have more moral expertise and therefore, lead more admirable and ethical lives. You and I are, at the very least, better than the career criminal. Atheist or not, one would be foolish to say that I’m morally on par with El Chapo. Sam Harris has, no doubt unintentionally, endorsed my idea. He states:
Whenever we are talking about facts, certain opinions must be excluded. That is what it is to have a domain of expertise; that is what it is for knowledge to count. How have we convinced ourselves that in the moral sphere, there is no such thing as moral expertise or moral talent or moral genius even? How have we convinced ourselves that every opinion has to count? How have we convinced ourselves that every culture has a point of view on these subjects worth considering? Does the Taliban have a point of view on physics that is worth considering? No. How is their ignorance any less obvious on the subject of human well-being?8
Sam Harris is talking about moral classes. One reason some of us are convinced that there can’t be moral expertise, talent, or genius is because of fervent religious belief. Christians argue that without god, true morality cannot be achieved. Without god, all we’re left with is human opinion–as though all human opinion is equal. Some opinions are undoubtedly better than others. The opinions that I’ve thus far expressed are better than those of Christians who disagree with me. It should be clear to any impartial third party that one of us has thought more, read more, studied more, questioned more, and so on, and that in light of this, one set of opinions is superior to the other. I am in a higher moral class and in a higher intellectual class, and that’s only because you’ve accepted unfounded ideas about human opinions. I find it curious that though you don’t believe in original sin, you have such a low estimation of our opinions. In any case, we didn’t make moral progress because of Christianity; we made moral progress despite it.
In the same vein as Harris, Goldstein talked about ruling out the peculiarities of certain people. Every moral opinion doesn’t count and that’s because some people and groups are morally superior to others. Unless you want to argue that people are generally on par with the Taliban when it comes to morality, you’re admitting to the fact that there are moral classes. As stated, a simple corollary are economic classes. It’s clear that some people are prosperous and others are not. Some people can afford mansions and luxury cars; some people can afford a three-story house; others can barely afford an apartment and still others can scarcely afford a room; still others are homeless. In like manner, some people are simply morally superior to others and when looked at objectively, you’ll quickly realize that religious affiliation has nothing to do with it.
Some people, for instance, can see the injustice in discrimination and perpetrating acts of prejudice against minorities and gays. You, given that you’re Bran’s lackey or Bran himself, probably cannot see how that’s unjust or perhaps you’re apathetic in that regard–and the fact that you’re a Christian has done nothing to do away with your discriminatory views. Given that I’m not anti-anyone and certainly not pro-Hispanic, I can claim moral superiority. Since you’ll accuse me of mere assertion, allow me to elaborate.
You’re admittedly anti-gay. This makes clear that you advocate restrictive legislation against them. You will protest the legislation of gay marriage though it’s already been made legal. You are Bran or someone who agrees with him and therefore, I’m sure you’re familiar with his defense of Kim Davis. You have probably argued to invalidate the love gay couples share; this is quite common among conservatives. They misrepresent gays by accusing them of succumbing to so called sinful concupiscence. How am I morally better than you? I wouldn’t advocate restrictive legislation against a group if whatever they’re doing isn’t harming anyone. Other than your self-righteousness, what do you care if gays marry? Are you at their weddings? Are you watching them as they consummate their marriages? Are you there when they choose to raise children? You might clamor about public displays of affection, but it’s not like straight people don’t forget to get a room! Given your self-proclaimed discriminatory stances, I can honestly say you’re in a lower moral class than I am. There are other reasons as well, but I’ll digress. Let’s continue our discussion on Kant’s formulations.
2) The Formula of the End Itself: “Act in such a way that you always treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, never simply as a means, but always at the same time as an end.”
What is meant by treating a person never simply as a means, but always as an end? This means to extend kindness to others with no intention of exploiting them (e.g. I’ll befriend this guy because he’s rich). You may contend that this sounds like Jesus’ Golden Rule. Unfortunately, the Golden Rule isn’t original to Jesus. Patricia Churchland puts it succinctly:
The Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) is very often held up as a judicious rule, and exceptionless rule, and a rule that is universally espoused, or very close to it. (Ironically perhaps, Confucius, though known to prefer the development of virtues to instruction by rules, might have been among the first to give voice to a version of this maxim, though given his broad approach to morality, it is likely he offered it as general advice rather than as an exceptionless rule.)8
Like Churchland, I don’t think the Golden Rule is sufficient. Also, this formulation isn’t the Golden Rule. Kant argued that if we were to act to harm others, civilization would come to an end. It follows then that we’ll act to the benefit of one another. This is where Kant’s notion of a Kingdom of Ends comes from. We’ll get this shortly.
On the Golden Rule, a necessary tangent is required. The Golden Rule, according to Christians, is original to Jesus despite historical facts to the contrary. Jesus is, however, considered god incarnate. He is one with Yahweh. He is one mode of the Triune godhead. Therefore, if the Moral Argument is right in stating that moral values and duties exist because god exists, then these moral values and duties are based on a flawed ethical view known as egoism. This is precisely what Jesus advocates in the Golden Rule. In other words, any right action is the product of your own self-interest. The benefits I can reap are the basis of all my actions. Without diverging too far, I reject the Golden Rule and all variants of egoism for the same reason Louis Pojman rejected it:
We donot always consciously seek our own satisfaction or happinesswhen we act. In fact, some people seem to seek their ownunhappiness, as masochists and self-destructive people do, andwe all sometimes seem to act spontaneously without consciously considering our happiness.9
Given this, if the Golden Rule is a rudimentary formulation of egoism–and I see no compelling reason to think it’s not–we can reject Jesus’ ethical system and therefore, god’s basis for moral values and duties. It follows that the Moral Argument is wrong.
3) The Formula of Autonomy: “So act that your will can regard itself at the same time as making universal law through its maxims.”
This is related to the first formulation, but this formulation puts more emphasis on autonomy and like modern Kantians would argue, self-legislation. This formula of autonomy has manifested itself time and again. Morally superior people are not only admirable, but they compel others to emulate them. This formulation is prominent in rearing children. Children learn moral behavior from their parents, so in a sense, this goes back to Locke; if moral principles are innate, they would, in his words, be known to “children and idiots.” Children quickly learn what’s apt and what’s inappropriate given other people’s feedback. If they do something wrong, they’re scolded. If they do something right, they’re commended. Going back to the notion of inverting authority into oneself, the child then becomes an adult who (roughly) follows the moral values instilled in her during childhood. She then becomes an autonomous self-legislator. God isn’t necessary once again and thus, the Moral Argument is wrong.
4) The Formula of the Kingdom of Ends: “So act as if you were through your maxims a law-making member of a kingdom of ends.”
This formulation is the most compelling given that it absorbs, so to speak, the other formulations.10 Kant didn’t only speak of wills; he spoke of rational wills. Thus, under this formulation, we are to act in such a way that would be acceptable in a community of rational wills. In a community of rational wills, rape and murder would be unacceptable. Since people are autonomous, taking their lives or forcing oneself into a person is a violation of their autonomy. Your fellow rational wills will also recognize you as an autonomous individual and thus, without any need for Jesus’ Golden Rule or more generally, egoism, the rights conferred to them will also be conferred to you. My faith in humanity is enough to realize that developed countries look a lot more like Kant’s Kingdom of Ends than like a society of egoists pursuing their own self-interest. Even despite capitalism, people enjoy charity, sharing, altruism, and equality. People, in other words, recognize one another as autonomous and there are strict laws in place to punish people who violate the autonomy of others.
Ultimately, your demand for an authority is quelled by the fact that we, at the very least, possess the potential to legislate. That is to say that anyone of us can be exemplary moral agents. Kant’s rational will is preferable over the Hobbesian sovereign who can bend and break laws as he pleases. Sounds a lot like that god you worship, as we’ve seen. Also, your demand to know my ethical view has been addressed. Call me, in general, a Neo-Kantian, which isn’t to be confused with Kantian ethics. Neo-Kantians, like Rawls and Korsgaard, refer to Kant, but they also build upon him. It is therefore inaccurate to refer to them as Kantians. More specifically, you can refer to me as a procedural realist and as someone accepting a view that is the direct opposite of yours. You believe morality exists independently through god and that procedures can only trace them. I, on the other hand, believe that our procedures allow us to arrive at the most optimal moral principals.
I’ve not only refuted your view, but I’ve established the superiority of mine, so when I state that I’m superior to you, the above summarizes why I and anyone who’s intellectually honest comes to that conclusion. It is a simple fact that you have failed to think as much as I have or as much as you would have to in order to arrive at a more respectable and tenable view; you’ve merely accepted the view that’s consistent with your overarching faith. It takes no legwork to choose a view simply because it’s accepted by people who believe almost precisely as you do. So do yourself the favor of never challenging me on ethics again unless you somehow develop viable criticisms of my ethical view. Before you try to use Google, I’ll just state that you won’t find much. You would have to do what you hate to do: read. You would have to buy some books and read philosophers who have disagreed with Korsgaard and Rawls, but you would also have to read responses to those criticisms. I’ve already done that and I’ve found nothing in their criticisms capable of changing my mind. That is to say that their criticisms were ultimately off the mark. My criticisms of your view are, however, on the mark. You’d have to be intellectually dishonest to fail to admit that. It’s time you do what other Christians have done: put the Moral Argument on the shelf of defeated Christian arguments; it’s a bad argument and for anyone well-versed in philosophy, it’s actually elementary. For all this talk about depth in philosophy brining men’s minds closer to god, depth in philosophy has only served to further convince me that gods don’t exist.
With Yahweh now dispensed with, we move now to the Son, Jesus. As I’ve stated in the past, this comes easiest. And once again, you’re out of your depth, so I’d have no reason to anticipate a response because you won’t have one. I’ll simply borrow from a fairly recent discussion to demonstrate a case against the Son.
Matthew 27:57-58 speaks of a Joseph of Arimathea. He came to Pilate to request Jesus’ body so that he may be buried. That files in the face of what we know about Pilate and the treatment of criminals who were crucified. Assuming the narrative is true, it’s highly unlikely Pilate would have listened.
Pilate was not a beneficent prefect who kindly listened to the protests of the people he governed. Was Pilate the sort of ruler who would break with tradition and policy when kindly asked by a member of the Jewish council to provide a decent burial for a crucified victim? Not from what we can tell. As Crossan dismissively states: “[Pilate] was an ordinary second-rate Roman governor with no regard for Jewish religious sensitivities and with brute force as his normal solution to even unarmed protesting or resisting crowds.” Even more graphic is the complaint of Philo, who lived during Pilate’s time and indicated that his administration was characterized by his “venality, his violence, his thefts, his assaults, his abusive behavior, his frequent executions of untried prisoners, and his endless savage ferocity” (Embassy of Gaius 302).11
These are the very books Christians depend on when claiming that the resurrection was historical, which it wasn’t. So what proof would we need? Historical evidence. The evidence is actually condemning. So let’s follow the logic. To assume a resurrection, you need to assume two things first: death by crucifixion and burial—hence the empty tomb. That leads to some problems. If Jesus was crucified, as is attested in historical accounts of crucifixions, he would have become a corpse on the cross and likely would not have been buried. Ehrman puts it this way:
The point of crucifixion was to torture and humiliate a person as fully as possible, and to show any bystanders what happens to someone who is a troublemaker in the eyes of Rome. Part of the humiliation and degradation was the body being left on the cross after death to be subject to scavenging animals.
John Dominic Crossan has made the rather infamous suggestion that Jesus’s body was not raised from the dead but was eaten by dogs. When I first heard this suggestion, I was no longer a Christian and so was not religiously outraged, but I did think it was excessive and sensationalist. But that was before I did any real research on the matter. My view now is that we do not know, and cannot know, what actually happened to Jesus’s body. But it is absolutely true that as far as we can tell from all the surviving evidence, what normally happened to a criminal’s body is that it was left to decompose and serve as food for scavenging animals. Crucifixion was meant to be a public disincentive to engage in politically subversive activities, and the disincentive did not end with the pain and death—it continued in the ravages worked on the corpse afterward.
Evidence for this comes from a wide range of sources. An ancient inscription found on the tombstone of a man who was murdered by his slave in the city of Caria tells us that the murderer “hung…alive for the wild beasts and birds of prey.” The Roman author Horace says in one of his letters that a slave was claiming to have done nothing wrong, to which his master replied, “You shall not therefore feed the carrion crows on the cross” (Epistle 1.16.46-48). The Roman satirist Juvenal speaks of “the vulture [that] hurries from the dead cattle and dogs and corpses, to bring some of the carrion to her offspring” (Satires 14.77-78). The most famous interpreter of dreams from the ancient world, a Greek Sigmund Freud named Artemidorus, writes that it is auspicious for a poor man in particular to have a dream about being crucified, since “a crucified man is raised high and his substance is sufficient to keep many birds” (Dream Book 2.53). And there is a bit of gallows humor in the Satyricon of Petronius, a one-time advisor to the emperor Nero, about a crucified victim being left for days on the cross (chaps. 11-12).
In sum, the common Roman practice was to allow the bodies of crucified people to decompose on the cross and be attacked by scavengers as part of the disincentive for crime. I have not run across any contrary indications in any ancient source. It is always possible that an exception was made, of course. But it must be remembered that the Christian storytellers who indicated that Jesus was an exception to the rule had an extremely compelling reason to do so. If Jesus had not been buried, his tomb could not be declared empty.12
Given the above, if we assume he was crucified, then given historical evidence, we’d have to assume he wasn’t an exception. However, what if we do assume he was an exception? Let’s say he was pulled down from the cross for some reason. Would he have been given a proper burial? Ehrman offers the following:
My second reason for doubting that Jesus received a decent burial is that at the time, criminals of all sorts were, as a rule, tossed into common graves. Again, a range of evidence is available from many times and places. The Greek historian of the first century BCE Diodorus Siculus speaks of a war between Philip of Macedonia (the father of Alexander the Great) in which he lost twenty men to the enemy, the Locrians. When Philip asked for their bodies in order to bury them, the Locrians refused, indicating that “it was the general law that temple-robbers should be cast forth without burial” (Library of History 16.25.2). From around 100 CE, the Greek author Dio Chrysotom indicates that in Athens, anyone who suffered “at the hands of the state for a crime” was “denied burial, so that in the future there may be no trace of a wicked man (Discourses 31.85). Among the Romans, we learn that after a battle fought by Octavian (the later Caesar Augustus, emperor when Jesus was born), one of his captives begged for a burial, to which Octavian replied, “The birds will soon settle that question” (Seutonius, Augustus 13). And we are told by the Roman historian Tacitus of a man who committed suicide to avoid being executed by the state, since anyone who was legally condemned and executed “forfeited his estate and was debarred from burial” (Annals 6.29h).
Again, it is possible that Jesus was an exception, but our evidence that this might have been the case must be judged to be rather thin. People who were crucified were usually left on their crosses as food for scavengers, and part of the punishment for ignominious crimes was being tossed into a common grave, where very soon one decomposed body could not be distinguished from another. In traditions about Jesus, of course, his body had to be distinguished from all others; otherwise, it could not be demonstrated to have been raised physically from the dead.13
Thus, given historical evidence, we can’t even assume that he was taken down from the cross after being crucified. We also can’t assume that he was given a proper burial. Therefore, we can’t assume that the Gospel accounts are reliable. Even if we assume all of that, the resurrection itself is a dubious assumption (see here). Proof isn’t mere assertion. Again, quod gratis asseritur, gratis negatur. I’ll spare you the problems with assuming that the Gospel Jesus was historical. I’ve probably given you more to consider than you bargained for.
By the way, if we take the narrative at face value, it makes little sense. According to John 19:38-42, he was buried in a new tomb and clothed in linen with spices. This special treatment makes no sense in light of the fact that the Jews wanted him crucified because he was calling himself their king (see Luke 23:1-3, which is to be read in conjunction with Luke 22:66-71 and 23:5-19). Also, Acts 2:36 and 3:13-17 explicitly blames the Jews and recall, it’s widely held that the same author wrote both Luke and Acts. Given all this, if my reasoning hasn’t be clear, it makes no sense that they buried him in accordance with their customs after wanting him crucified because he was claiming to be their king. Thus, even if taken at face value, the narrative is confused.
Lastly, there’s the issue of Joseph of Arimathea. It’s likely he wasn’t a historical person.
Richard Carrier speculates, “Is the word a pun on ‘best disciple,’ ari[stos] mathe[tes]? Matheia means ‘disciple town’ in Greek; Ari- is a common prefix for superiority.” Since commentators have seen the burial by the outsider Joseph of Arimathea as a contrast to the failure of the disciples and intimates of Jesus, the coincidence that Arimathea can be read as “best disciple town” is staggering.14
That the name can be read in this way definitively rules out coincidence and makes it more likelier that the author of Mark used the character in a literary way. In other words, the author wasn’t looking to convey historical events. Ultimately, we have compelling reasons to doubt his burial, assuming he existed; therefore, without getting into the problems inherent in notions of resurrection, we have compelling reason to doubt his resurrection.
I bet you thought I was going down the mythicist route. Would have been so easy, since you could just accuse me of using Zeitgeist as my source. I don’t need mythicism to cast doubt on the Gospels. If the above wasn’t enough, let’s see you weasel your way out of the following set of contradictions:
Did Jes carry the cross the entire way or did Simon of Cyrene carry it for him; Mark 15:21 or Luke 23:26 and John 19:17? Did one robber mock him or did both; Matthew 27:44 or Luke 23:39-40? Did the curtain rip before or after; Mark 15:37-38 or Luke 23:45-46? Who went to the tomb–did Mary Magdalene go alone or did she have company and if so, how much company; Mark 16:1-3 (Mary Magdalene goes with Mary and Salome) or Matthew 28:1 (Mary Magdalene goes with just Mary) or John 20:1 (she goes alone)? Was there one man or one angel in the tomb (Mark 16:5 or Matthew 28:2-3) or were there two men or two angels (Luke 24:4 or John 20:11-12)? Was the stone rolled away or not; Mark 16:3-4 or Matthew 28:2? Where’s this earthquake in the other Gospels by the way? Were the disciples to stay in Jerusalem or were they to go to Galilee (Mark 16:7 and Matthew 28:7 or the silence of Luke and John on whether or not to go to Galilee)? Did the women tell the disciples or did they stay silent? As Ehrman says, it depends which Gospel you read.
Critical questions and valid criticisms like the ones above are what Bran calls hatred and “lies about Christianity on the Christianity tag.” This is none of the above. You don’t have to hate something to criticize it. You don’t have to lie in order to raise valid criticism. These are simple historical and textual facts that stare Christian after Christian right in the face. All I’ve done is confront you with that which you’ve refused to honestly look in the eye. Like I said, the evidence is available and sometimes staring you right in the face. This is why I’ve often defined faith as belief despite the evidence rather than simply belief in the absence of evidence. The issue with, in particular, Christians and Muslims is that they work from different frameworks and thus, what we consider evidence they may not consider evidence; thus, any effort to convince them would require one to shake their confidence in their framework rather than simply asking them to consider evidence. Never mind that certain frameworks lead them to interpret the evidence in a manner that favors their view(s). That’s blatant confirmation bias. What I’ve done here is shake the very framework you’re working from.
Now Bran or whoever you are, just accept that you’re currently a joke. You’re a laughing stock. You’re demonstrably one of the more unintelligent Christians on Tumblr. You don’t think well enough nor deep enough. You say you’ve questioned, but you don’t show that to be the case. You make simplistic generalizations about atheists, give us clear examples of contempt toward atheists, and yet you claim that you’re the one that’s hated and persecuted. You go out of your way to cite examples of actual Christian persecution whilst ignoring that none of it is at the hands of the atheists you hate so much. Never mind that you sit comfortably behind your keyboard and do nothing about their circumstances. As I’m sure you’ve been told, you don’t direct people to charities and organizations attempting to do something about Christian persecution in other countries. It’s simply useful in forwarding your agenda: “Christophobia.” What you need to realize is that some atheists have legitimate and justifiable reasons for their rejection of your beliefs. This requires neither hatred nor dishonesty; it requires critical thinking, reading (which we established you despise doing), uncomfortable dialogue with people offering perspectives different from and that sometimes contradict your own, and perhaps most importantly, evidence (which you said we don’t have). This is how you grow intellectually.
If you can’t do that, at least stop citing me in your puerile posts, stop accusing me of sending you profanity-laced anonymous messages, and stop creating entire blogs to give yourself a makeshift anon option. I don’t have anonymous turned on and never have, and most likely never will. My reasons are simple: if you’re too much of a coward to state your disagreements openly and respectfully, you don’t deserve to voice your opinion; so I’ve effectively decided not to give people the right to voice their opinion both in secret and disrespectfully. As you can see, however, people can make things known to me in secret; I have a provision for people that don’t want others to see what they’ve said or asked, and till this day, believe it or not, most of these people are doubting Christians who don’t want people knowing who they are and that they’re having doubts. I’ve even had atheists who are recent deconverts and find atheism troubling and even unfulfilling. Yet no one but me knows these people. The thing is, these people don’t come into my inbox with the intention of cursing me out, calling me names, threatening me, etc.
If it’s true that I hate Christians, one has to wonder why I didn’t trick these people into trusting me with their secrets only to share their secrets and identities. One has to wonder why I haven’t laughed at them or mocked them during their crisis of faith. The truth is that I don’t get any enjoyment out of this. In opposing a religion that is invasive, oppressive, and ultimately, wrong, I have also, due to no choice of my own, placed myself in opposition to people who believe this religion wholeheartedly. So despite the fact that I can hurt them emotionally, I see it as a moral imperative to explicitly state the reasons for my non-belief when directly challenged. I compare it to taking candy from a toddler. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t do this. Unfortunately, to rid us of these oppressive beliefs, I have to confront them who find comfort in their chains. What’s more is that you would ask me to chain myself as well because you’ve been fooled into thinking that you’re free and have been given life in abundance. I reject your beliefs and I’ve stated some of my reasons. I don’t see what’s hard about accepting this; furthermore, I don’t see what’s hard about ceasing to equate this with dishonesty or hatred for Christians. It is neither. It is merely the result of a process everyone should follow: an honest inquiry into the views we espouse, i.e., why we espouse them? our these thoughts original to us? if not, are they still worth adopting? are there any weaknesses in this view? are they such that we are to abandon said view? can this view be further improved? is there another view(s) that’s better in its place? You can’t go through this process if you believe to have found a truth you never sought.
1 White, Ellen. “Who are the Nephilim?”. Bible History Daily. 19 Nov 2014. Web.
3 Korsgaard, Christine M., and Onora Neill.The Sources of Normativity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. 36-37. Print.
4 See Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding in Cahn, Steven M. Ed. Classics of Western Philosophy, 7th Ed. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. Indianapolis/Cambridge. 2006. 630-632. Print.
6 Pecorino, Philip A. “Chapter Two: Ethical Traditions”. Queensborough Community College. 2002.
7 Goldstein, Rebecca. Plato at the Googleplex: Why Philosophy Won’t Go Away. New York: Pantheon Books, 2014. 105. Print.
8 Churchland, Patricia Smith. Braintrust: What Neuroscience Tells Us About Morality. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2011. 168. Print.
9 Pojman, Louis P. Ethics: Discovering Right and Wrong. Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth Pub., 1990. 84. Print.
10 Bagnoli, Carla. “Constructivism in Metaethics”. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 2011.
11 Ehrman, Bart D.. How Jesus became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 2014. 163. Print.
12 Ibid. (p.157-158, 160)
14 Kirby, Peter. “The Case Against the Empty Tomb”. Infidels. 2001.
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