Hays on the Cartoon
Universe Premise of Theism
Steve Hays of Triablogue
apparently doesn't like it when I point out the cartoonish
implications of Christianity's view of the universe. The problem for Steve is
that he wants to fault me for these implications, when in fact I am not the
author of the Christian worldview and its conception of the universe. Nor am I
an adherent of the view that the universe conforms to an invisible magic
being's wishes. Indeed, why would I embrace a worldview which likens the
universe to a cartoon when I don't think the universe is at all analogous to a
cartoon?
Steve wrote:
Needless to say,
Steve's got it all wrong. It is not I who am doing the smearing here;
Christians smear their own intelligence by their allegiance to a worldview
which essentially likens the universe to a cartoon. Notice that Steve offers no
argument against the analogy; all he does is express contempt for it, directing
his resentment at me rather than soberly recognizing the accuracy of the
analogy and its remarkable improvement over the one that Paul offers in Romans
9. He calls the analogy itself “childish,” but this is simply an attempt to
malign it for its accuracy while misplacing the blame. What is childish is
Christianity, a worldview which elevates fantasy and make-believe above reason
and rationality, ultimately because of its commitment to metaphysical
subjectivism - the view that reality conforms to someone's intentions.
I marvel at Steve's capacity for ironic projection. Why would Christians be
insulted by the cartoon universe analogy, when they themselves champion a
worldview which views the universe in a manner that is directly analogous to a
cartoon? Here Steve is simply grumbling because the pot has been called black,
and provides no counter-argument to the analogy which I have developed.
Contrary to what Steve is eager for his readers to believe, my analogy is not
an exercise in merely “calling someone’s worldview ‘cartoonish’,”
nor is it “intended to be complimentary rather than demeaning,” or vice versa.
Its power is in its accuracy, while its effect is something that comes along
for the ride. The Christian’s resentment for the cartoon universe analogy is
simply an expression of his desire to have his cake, and eat it, too. As a supernaturalist, he wants, on the one hand, to assert the
existence of invisible magic beings which can create their objects out of
nothing and manipulate them at will, informing his worldview with all kinds of
bizarre and silly notions of miracles and miracle-workers; on the other hand,
he wants the respectability of a serious worldview, even though only the
self-loathing can take it seriously as a guide to one’s choices and actions.
(I’ve yet to meet a Christian who consistently governs his choices and actions
as if the world of objects actually do conform to the conscious intentions of
an invisible magic being; and the dishonesty required to affirm such a
worldview while operating on opposite fundamental premises can only lead to
self-loathing. As evidence, look at the cynicism and bitterness proudly
displayed on Triablogue.)
Steve says that “
The logic of the analogy is pretty difficult to miss, especially once it's been
pointed out. The apostle Paul himself provided us with a precedent for drawing
an analogy between the creator-deity of Christianity and its creations as he
imagined the relationship between the two. To illustrate that relationship in
concrete terms, he likened the creator-deity to a potter, and its creation to a
lump of clay which it molds in conformity with its desires. The apostle draws
this analogy in order to shield his god from critical questions, such as those
having to do with its motivations. The apostle wants people to believe that his
god created everything and gave all creatures their natures such as they are
precisely what it wants them to be, but at the same time he does not want
people to think that his god is morally responsible for what it has allegedly
created. Romans 9:18-22 gives us the apostle's rationale:
He has mercy on whom He
desires, and He hardens whom He desires. You will say to me then, "Why
does He still find fault? For who resists His will?"
On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? The thing molded
will not say to the molder, "Why did you make me like this," will it?
Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make from the same lump
one vessel for honorable use and another for common use? What if God, although
willing to demonstrate His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much
patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction?
Clearly the goal here is to put a stop to critical thinking. To convey his
reasoning, Paul draws an analogy between a potter and the lump of clay he uses
to produce a 'vessel', such as a bowl or other household item. Essentially,
Paul is saying that his god is free to make a bowl with a big crack down its
side, and then condemn that bowl for being useless for holding soup. (Yes, his
deity is that big, folks.) Since the potter intended the bowl to be useless for
holding soup in the first place (after all, it doesn't make mistakes), Paul is
saying that the potter is right to condemn it, and that the bowl has no
business asking the potter, "Why did you make me like this?" Of
course, if the potter fashioned the bowl with a conceptual form of
consciousness and moral inquisitiveness, he would be quite foolish to expect
the bowl not to question his motives as a potter. Not having a good
answer in such a case, the potter would simply resort to saying "It's my
right to do thus!" and presume to have scored a victory. If it turns out
that this is not sufficient to put an end to moral inquiries, the potter can
threaten the bowl with eternal torment if it persists in asking such
unanswerable questions.
Similarly, Elmer Fudd cannot say to his cartoonist,
"Why do you always make me fail when I twy to
shoot dat wabbit?" The
reason is because Elmer Fudd is doing precisely what
his cartoonist wants him to do, and he's not supposed to question the
cartoonist's motivations. In fact, a cartoonist can guarantee that his cartoons
will not ask him such questions by creating them with no consciousness of their
own, and no moral inquisitiveness. They'd certainly be easier to control that
way.
Also, that the cartoon universe analogy is an improvement over Paul's
potter-clay analogy is readily apparent. A potter, for instance, cannot make a
snake which speaks in a human language. But a cartoonist certainly can. A
potter cannot make an ark and have select representatives of all the earth's animals show up for a ride. But a cartoonist can. A potter
cannot make the
Recently
Steve wrote that
every argument from analogy is also an argument
from disanalogy since an analogy falls short of
identity. So
Christians are renown for the obligations they
like to put on others, and in this sense Steve is right on schedule. Naturally,
believers who find the cartoon universe analogy offensive in some way will want
to respond by heaping burdens on the part of others as they seek to lash out in
their frustration. But to whom am I supposed to show that "A and B are sufficiently analogous"? To someone who
ascribes to a worldview which likens the universe to a cartoon? Indeed, if
Paul's clay is sufficiently analogous to the Christian deity's creatures, how
is a cartoon, whose fit within the context of Christianity's claims is so much
stronger than Paul's clay, any less analogous? Indeed, to whom did Paul show
that the potter's clay is sufficiently analogous to the Christian deity's
creatures? If Christians find Paul's reasoning in Romans 9 sufficient for
purposes of illustrating his point, how is the cartoon universe analogy any
less sufficient? Blank out. Moreover, on what basis can a Christian discount
the element of imagination here? What is the substance of the believer's prayer
requests, if not the improvement of the present state of affairs that he
imagines his god can bring about? Do the believer's imaginings exceed his god's
capabilities? Can his god not also create talking rabbits which operate heavy
machinery and conduct symphony orchestras, just as a cartoonist imagines? The
real question is whether or not the believer acts as if the universe is
the cartoon his worldview conceives it to be, or an objective realm which does
not conform to any subject's whims. Does he own up to his confession, or does
he shirk it? That is the question.
Time and time again, the Christian's effort to resist the absurdity of his own
professed worldview falls flat on its face. But unlike
a cartoon, the bloody nose on his face cannot be righted with the wave of an
eraser.
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The
Cartoon Universe of Christianity