My friend Paul points out that the term “believing in God� represents an unusual idiom. In most other situations in which it is used, the phrase “believe in� means something slightly but importantly different from what it means when someone says that she “believes in� God.
If Emily’s husband is accused of philandering, Emily might say that she believes in her husband, and everyone would understand her meaning. Just so, when Colin Powell says that he believes in his President, or when a businessman states his belief in the free market, or a comrade at the barricades says that he believes in Communism, or even when a fan believes in the Yankees or the Mets. In each of those cases, “believing inâ€? is an assertion that the believed-in entity is trustworthy. In no case is it an assertion that the entity actually exists, as it is when someone asserts a “belief in” God. There is never any doubt that Emily’s husband exists, as does the POTUS, Communism, free market capitalism, and the Yankees.
I have no doubt that God exists, in exactly the same way that Communism exists, and the Yankees, and the Office of the President of the United States. God’s existence is validated by the same process that validates the existence of those other entities: people “believe in” Him, in the same way that people believe in Communism and the Yankees. That is, they believe that those entities are what their promotional literature and their apologists claim them to be; they have those particular powers and virtues; they’ve won those victories, defeated those enemies, rewarded, in just those ways, their particular friends and supporters. Indeed, it is more than simple validation at work here. The belief is what makes the existence real. Without believers, similar entities—the Easter Bunny, Almighty Jove, the Gold Standard, the Divine Right of Kings, the Mudville Nine—enter the realm of fairy tale and legend.
The evidence of God’s existence is all around us: in great cathedrals and soaring mosques, in mottos on currency, Bibles in hotel room bedside table drawers, crosses by the roadside and a large hole in lower Manhattan. God exists because people believe in him, believe that they know what He wants them to do, and do that. I believe that God exists.
I don’t, however, believe in God, any more than I believe in Communism or the Yankees. Or the POTUS. I don’t believe that any of those entities can deliver on the promises they make. They are all frauds. The Yankees are a pack of steroid-pumped, overpaid, cliché-ridden jocks wholly owned by an obscenely rich egotist; they have as much to do with sportsmanship and the Spirit of the Game as Minnesota Fats; you’ll find more heart, more human drama, and more entertainment value in a fast-paced game of stickball in a Brooklyn schoolyard than in a typical Yankees game. The President is a documented liar and con artist, a complete hypocrite, a terrorist and a sponsor of terrorists. Communism is based on a flawed vision of history and a flawed understanding of human nature; the promises it makes are undeliverable in any realistic society, and nations taken by those promises have suffered sadly.
And then there’s God. A paranoid, solipsistic, misogynistic deity whose only statistically significant and observable effect on the billions of humans who take Him to heart is to cause them to hurt one another cruelly and die young, frequently at the hands of other believers. That’s the God of the Torah, the God of St. Paul, the God of the Koran. Yahweh, God the Father, Allah. He promises Paradise alight with His love to those whose faith is perfect and eternal Hell for those who disobey His minutely detailed commands, and He challenges us, having set the stakes so high, to call His bluff.
Well, I think He’s an old Fraud. I don’t believe He has the Power He claims to possess. I don’t trust His promises or fear His threats. I’m quite confident that I’m better off and a better person without Him in my life, and I’m pretty certain that you would be as well.
“But,” you object. “But my God is not like that at all. He is a God of Love. He brings Peace to my heart.”
I believe you. I believe that the god you worship—the god who is in your mind when you pray, the god who watches over you as you sleep, the god who blesses those you invoke him/her to bless—is who you know her/him to be. I believe you because you have not lied to me before, and you have no reason to lie to me now. I believe that you have such a god, as I believe you have had the dreams that you tell me about, and I believe that you love those whom you claim to love, and that you are horrified by cruelty and injustice, and that you are a genuinely good person, working, hard, to become better. But please, because I believe you and believe in you, don’t ask me to believe in your god.
The god who informs you with what you need to do to be a good person is quintessentially private, speaking to you alone, known, albeit with convincing emotional force, to you alone, incapable of being shared with any others except through the effect the god has on you and your behavior. If your god makes you a good person, then, through your goodness, that god blesses all those with whom you have contact, and what that god is and your relationship with the god doesn’t really matter. And if you are not a good person, then nothing else matters.
I think that most people who have a god like that, a god with whom they have a personal relationship, a god who helps them be better people, really find their solace not so much in the god as in the qualities of goodness. If someone “worships” kindness, generosity, patience, tolerance, compassion, honesty—i.e. allows her life to be informed and guided by those qualities—then it is as if a god, embodying those qualities, informed and guided that life.
Every such god is as different from all other such gods as the individuals whom that god informs with the various virtues are different from all other such individuals. Each god is more like his or her individual worshipper than he or she is like any other gods. And as soon as your god starts claiming dominion over public realms; as soon as he begins to meddle with other people’s behavior, makes grandiose claims about creating this and that, presumes to proclaim absolute law and sit in judgment, then he is no better than God, indeed he is One with God. And I am sorry that you have Him in your life, because He will consume you, as he does all of His believers, leading them, by slow turns and almost imperceptible acts of self-deception, to behave in ways that are no longer kind, no longer generous, no longer tolerant and compassionate.
God with a capital ‘H’ 
And believe me, it’s He, not She, and not It, and never, never They. Although “elohim”, the name by which our God was known in His earliest Torah appearances, means “the gods”. Perhaps in those early days, God was still rational enough to realize that the other gods existed, even if they only existed as components of the conglomerate that was, essentially, Him. As his solipsism and paranoia grew, God’s masculinity became more and more assertive, and his misogyny became more and more pronounced. It’s egregious in Paul’s epistles, and positively septic in the Koran.
Gods need believers 
There are billions of gods in the world. They swarm as thick as herring roe. Most of them are too small to see and never get worshipped, at least by anything bigger than bacteria, who never say their prayers and don’t demand much in the way of miracles.
They are the small gods—the spirits of places where two ant trails cross, the gods of microclimates down between the grass roots. And most of them stay that way.
Because what they lack is belief.
A handful, though, go on to greater things. Anything may trigger it. A shepherd, seeking a lost lamb, finds it among the briars and takes a minute or two to build a small cairn of stones in general thanks to whatever spirits might be around the place. Or a peculiarly shaped tree becomes associated with a cure for disease. Or someone carves a spiral on an isolated stone. Because what gods need is belief, and what humans want is gods.
Often it stops there. But sometimes it goes further. More rocks are added, more stones are raised, a temple is built on the site where the tree once stood. The god grows in strength, the belief of its worshippers raising it upwards like a thousand tons of rocket fuel. For a very few, the sky’s the limit.
And, sometimes, not even that.
atheism 
To those who are not entirely deaf to reason, I commend several resources. The WikiPedia article on Atheism is, as one has come to expect, competently researched, relatively unbiassed, complete, and comprehensively linked to the topics it brings into the discussion. In a speech he made to the Atheists of Silicon Valley, Mark Thomas presents a closely reasoned explanation and justification of his own atheism. For an even more personal view, I commend the talk that Natalie Angier gave to the Ethical Culture Society of New York on “Raising Children with Secular Values in a Religious World.”
World 3 
If you find all this interesting, you might want to download, as a PDF file, Popper’s Tanner Lecture on Human Values, Three Worlds, delivered at the University of Michigan in 1978.
bill | 29-Aug-05 at 7:38 pm | Permalink
Fascinating.
While my complete reading of the Popper lecture that you linked to is in process, as is a more thoughtful comment to your post, I’ll say just this. You may well have explained why many postmoderns both believe in God and don’t. Which might also bring them to say “I’m spiritual but not religious.â€?
Now I’m not summarizing your post with this position. Instead, I’m suggesting that you, and Karl Popper, may have the answer that many a Christian evangelist is looking for.
That answer may well be that many postmoderns are aware of world 3 but unable to differentiate it from world 2 (or even world 1). At least that’s what I’ve been struggling with.
Hopefully I’ll have something better to add later.
bill
richard | 29-Aug-05 at 8:12 pm | Permalink
Thanks for the comment, Bill. It’s interesting; I’ve never thought of myself as a “postmodern”. In fact, if “postmodernism” means what I think it does, I’m pretty much the opposite of one. I read postmodernism as a way of thinking that pretty much ditches all attempts to found values on objective reality, that, in fact, denies the existence of objective reality. And that’s not me. I think, rather than being postmodern, I am pre-modern; I find that the philosophies and ways of thinking that are most appealing to me are those of the enlightenment rationalists. I think, in many ways, that Popper represents the culmination of that tradition, along with such figures as Isaiah Berlin and Alfred North Whitehead, both of whom I admire greatly.
I wouldn’t consider myself in any way either religious or spiritual, but I believe strongly that there are “goods”, in Berlin’s sense of the word, that are rationally defensible: civil goods, such as tolerance and respect for the autonomy of the individual; ethical goods, such as generosity and kindliness; and moral goods, such as fidelity and honesty. I don’t see such goods relying on the authority of a divinity. It seems to me that common experience demonstrates that those who are good in those ways lead happier lives and make things better for those they come in contact with. That’s also why I find Buddhism appealing.
I’ll have more to say about such ideas in my next installment, which will deal with what there is to believe in, if one chooses not to believe in God (or gods), and what reasons one might find to support belief.
Richard
is what i do » The view from inside the circle | 15-Sep-05 at 7:43 pm | Permalink
[...] The Seventeenth Skeptics Circle, that is, hosted, in a positively brilliant rendition, by decorabilia. The company is exceptional: a lot of smart bloggers with skeptical takes on a wide range of subjects, from gay penguins to Atlantis. Some of it’s funny, some of it’s though-provoking, some of it’s instructive. It’s all well written and well worth reading. And I’m pleased and honored to report that I’m in the circle this time ’round, with my own take on the nature of belief and the nature of God. Thanks for including me, Jim. [...]
Mravac Kid | 16-Sep-05 at 4:18 pm | Permalink
I’d just like to put in a quote I picked up somewhere:
“It doesn’t matter if you believe in God, but if God believes in you.”
I’d like to think that that’s what God really wants, for people to behave as He would want them, regardless of whether they believe it is He who guides them, or some other deity, or just a goodness of heart.
As for the stuff in the Bible, that was written by humans, and mostly people of influence and power, who likely wanted to keep that power. And to do that, intimidation has proven to be an effective method, so they intimidated the subjects with stories of a vengeful God.
richard | 16-Sep-05 at 5:22 pm | Permalink
“I’d like to think that that’s what God really wants”
Think what you like. But it’s really pretty absurd. Here you postulate a being that created a universe with untold billions of galaxies, each of which contains billions of stars, and untold numbers of planets; on one particular planet, in one particular corner of the universe, He created, a millisecond or so ago measured against the age of their planet, a species that calls itself mankind; that species has bred like a plague, on course to exterminate, within the next few dozen years, close to 90% of the other species with which they share their planet (species which He also created and which we might assume he therefore loves); men spend most of their free time, when they are not destroying their environment, destroying one another, usually in most imaginatively cruel ways (men are distinguished for their big brains and lively imaginations); and most of their killing and cruelty is justified by appeals to God’s will. And you’d like to think that you know what God really wants.
If it weren’t so sweetly crazy, it would be unbelievably arrogant.
Mravac, just try, once, for a minute, to use that vaunted human imagination to consider that there is no God—not in the sense that there are mountains and moons and hurricanes. Consider how you would choose to live under such a condition; would you choose to hurt people and follow ways that simple observation shows to be hurtful, uncomfortable, distressing? Or would you choose to be kind to others, to treat them with a measure of respect, and not to do anything to anybody that you would not want done to you? Because that way of living, if we simply look around at people who follow it, seems likely to produce a substantial measure of happiness and contentment. I think that most people, if they are helped to see that choice clearly, would choose the ways of the good. And those ways have nothing—nada, zero, zilch—to do with whether or not the people following the way believe that they know what God wants them to do. In fact, the best people I’ve known in my life have been atheists, and the worst people I’ve known—the cruelist and most arrogant—have been professed believers.
If you start by assuming the existence of God, then all of your arguments are inevitably going to be tautologies. If, on the other hand, you start by observing human behavior (not belief—behavior) and looking for patterns that seem to lead to happiness versus patterns that seem to cause misery and distress, then you will find ample reason to behave with kindness, honesty, and compassion, and no reason at all to require the existence of God.
Richard