Why I Am Not an Atheist - Part Three
But apart from the problem of being unable to espouse a moral law, atheism runs into the obstacle of not being able to justify any hope in the face of pain and death. We inevitably stumble across these things in our lives. Camut was the one who said that death is philosophy's problem.
I believe it was Hobbes who said that when I die, the worms devour my body and I commit myself to the Great Perhaps. And it was Bertrand Russell who said that, in the end, all of our hopes and dreams come crashing down in despair.
Despair is all we are left with if there is no God because there is no guarantee of continued existence, there is no guarantee of ultimate justice, and there is reason to justify any kind of lifestyle over and against another type of lifestyle. Why live as a Mother Theresa when you can live as Hitler or Heffner, and the end result is the same? The end result will be the same, because we will all be shadows and dust. Dust does not regret.
Indeed, the question of hope is left completely unaddressed by the atheistic position. It openly and unblushing claims for us to make something of it now, because there is nothing more for us beyond this life.
Alright. If that is so, why does Jean-Paul Sarte himself who, on his deathbed (and not many people like to talk about this) questioned his own pleasure-filled existential philosophy to such a point where his mistress Simone looks at him after Sarte questions his own philosophy to such an extent that he doubts the attempt to find fulfillment and meaning apart from any God in mind, she looks at him and says "He, too, is going senile."
If that is so, why does Bernard Shaw, noted atheist and skeptic, say that "I am an atheist who has lost his faith?"
The questions arise because when pain and death rear their ugly head, what does Sarte have to say to himself, or to me? What does Nietzsche have to say to me? What do any of these God-debunking philosophers have to say to someone who has just watched one of their loved ones swept away in a moment by the tsunami?
Silence. They have no answer to give. They have no basis to offer any hope apart from God.
I believe it was Hobbes who said that when I die, the worms devour my body and I commit myself to the Great Perhaps. And it was Bertrand Russell who said that, in the end, all of our hopes and dreams come crashing down in despair.
Despair is all we are left with if there is no God because there is no guarantee of continued existence, there is no guarantee of ultimate justice, and there is reason to justify any kind of lifestyle over and against another type of lifestyle. Why live as a Mother Theresa when you can live as Hitler or Heffner, and the end result is the same? The end result will be the same, because we will all be shadows and dust. Dust does not regret.
Indeed, the question of hope is left completely unaddressed by the atheistic position. It openly and unblushing claims for us to make something of it now, because there is nothing more for us beyond this life.
Alright. If that is so, why does Jean-Paul Sarte himself who, on his deathbed (and not many people like to talk about this) questioned his own pleasure-filled existential philosophy to such a point where his mistress Simone looks at him after Sarte questions his own philosophy to such an extent that he doubts the attempt to find fulfillment and meaning apart from any God in mind, she looks at him and says "He, too, is going senile."
If that is so, why does Bernard Shaw, noted atheist and skeptic, say that "I am an atheist who has lost his faith?"
The questions arise because when pain and death rear their ugly head, what does Sarte have to say to himself, or to me? What does Nietzsche have to say to me? What do any of these God-debunking philosophers have to say to someone who has just watched one of their loved ones swept away in a moment by the tsunami?
Silence. They have no answer to give. They have no basis to offer any hope apart from God.
posted by Brian at 6:48 AM
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