We are seated at a little round table on a sunny veranda with an expansive view. Like a balcony at Kings Landing or something out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.
The Atheist has a carafe of red wine which he offers to share.
“I don’t drink.”
“Oh, yeah, because you’re a Christian.”
“Because I made a decision not to drink, and I don’t miss it. And I don’t like red wine. I prefer a blush or rose.”
“Oh,” he says. Then, “So why are we here? So you can convert me?"
“Not at all.”
I can see in his face that he doesn’t trust that response. “Isn’t that your mission?”
I make a non-committal noise. “Some people, yes. But I am not an evangelist. My ministry, if you will let me call it that…”
“Call it whatever you like,” he says, not unkindly.
“Thank you. I like to call it a ministry. My ministry is for those who already believe. To share ideas and experiences and help Christians lead a Christian life in a difficult world. And if I pick up some people along the way, that’s okay, too.”
“So what do you want to talk about?”
“I would like you to entertain the idea that there are other possibilities.”
“There are no rational possibilities.”
“And I would like you to stop insinuating that because I believe, I am intellectually inferior to you.”
He wants to chuckle. He cannot make that concession.
“Perhaps instead we can say that you are spiritually stunted.”
“Spiritually stunted? What is that?”
“A joke actually. I don’t want to get snarky. Maybe you wouldn’t mind being spiritually stunted.
“You know, belief in a higher power is inherent in mankind. Remember when they found that lost tribe in the Amazon, and it turned out they were fake? The first person who doubted them was a linguist who found that they had no reference to God. Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
“Belief in a higher power is always more prevalent among the uneducated. Exposure to the world, to intellectual pursuits tends to lessen the need for religion. Amazonian tribes believed eclipses were the Gods. Evidence proved them wrong.”
“Evidence can lead to any conclusion if you look at it the right way. Like the Ancient Aliens people. Have you seen the guy with the crazy hair?” I wave my hand around my head to illustrate, and he knows exactly who I mean. “If you only look at the evidence that supports your conclusion, you can conclude anything is true.”
“I could say the same thing to you.”
“That’s true, you could.”
“There’s no evidence that the Jews were ever held in captivity in Egypt.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that.”
“That kind of throws out about half the Old Testament, doesn’t it? And how can your version on God be the only just and true version, and an Islam’s version of God also be the just and true God?”
“Those are really big questions and valid questions. But just because I don’t have the answers doesn’t mean I discard the whole concept. It’s a little conceited to think that just because I don’t understand something it’s invalid. I can’t do the Saturday New York Times crossword, but that doesn’t mean it’s stupid. I am.”
“Not the same thing.”
“No, not quite. I watched a stand up routine that Bill Maher did a few years ago.”
“That must have been fun. Were you forced?”
“No, I love Bill Maher. What bothered me the most was this little fake nervous laugh he had affected. He was talking about the dichotomy of God and Jesus being the same thing, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. So he just threw it all out. As if there couldn’t be any concept in the Universe bigger than his own mind. That’s what I would like you to stop.”
“I am not Bill Maher,” he says.
“Not today,” I say, but he doesn’t get it, so I move on.
“You know, when you die, if I’m right, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. But when I die, if you’re right, well, no one will ever know.”
We laugh.
“Is that supposed to change my mind?”
“No, just an observation. Is there anything I could say that would change your mind?”
“No, is there anything I can say that would change your mind?”
“No.”
“I don’t see how you can believe in a God who allows so much suffering in the world. And so much of it done in the name of religion.”
I am silent for a moment, because it is hard sometimes to accept that God lets babies dies or thugs beat up old women for the few dollars in their purse or that He allowed AIDS to happen and in its horrible aftermath, people, otherwise good people, to hate the ones who got sick. That sort of thing. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember to call on Him when you feel like He’s left you in a deep dark hole.
“There’s a bird that lays two eggs. Not at the same time. The second one is just insurance in case something happens to the first one.”
“Yes,” he says. “Golden Eagles, for one. The Cain and Abel birds.”
“Yes, the Cain and Abel birds. So the second one doesn’t get fed, eventually gets crowded out of the nest, falls to the forest floor and dies. Probably gets eaten by weasels or something. When I first heard about these bird, I used to lay awake nights, thinking how cruel that was.”
“Was this when you were a child?”
“Early twenties, I think. It still bothers me. There had to be a way for that bird to evolve that didn’t involve such suffering. Other birds did it. But Nature is what it is.”
“God is what he is?”
“Yeah, and He presents us puzzles and unanswered questions and unbearable cruelties and things we just can’t fathom. And joy and happiness and kindness and love that are also unbearably good.
“I can’t change your mind, because belief in God in not an intellectual process. I believe what I believe because of the Power of the Spirit.”
“And I am Spiritually Stunted.”
“I hope not. I hope you’re just Spiritually Asleep, and someday you’ll wake up. Because you may be imaginary, but you seem very nice.”
The Atheist shakes his head and orders a carafe of White Zinfandel.
Don’t you realize that it is God’s kindness that is trying to lead you to him and change the way you think and act? Romans 2:4 [God's Word]
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