There are many good arguments for the existence of God, each with their own strengths and difficulties. As some arguments have become more popular, however, certain confusions have entered into the mix even among Catholics and other Christians and have weakened the case for God even among those who want to know and defend the truth.
This can have negative consequences for Christian apologetics, because when arguments are misunderstood, they can be easily dismissed. And it is important that we do not assume that because one has had an education in the Faith that he is prepared for every challenge.
The cosmological argument
The most popular cosmological argument today is the “horizontal” or Kalam cosmological argument. It argues that the existence of the universe is an effect, whose cause is God, the creator:
- Everything that begins to exist has a cause of its existence.
- The universe began to exist.
- There cannot be an infinite number of causes.
- Therefore, the universe has a first cause of its existence (God).
The heart of this argument lies in the impossibility of an infinite regression of causes or events (premise 1). An actual infinite number of things cannot exist because an “infinite number” is a contradiction, nowhere observed in nature. If the universe had no beginning, then the number of causes or moments before today would be an infinite number of moments. But there cannot be an actually infinite amount of moments, so the universe must have begun and was therefore caused to begin by something uncaused (and outside the universe). This cause is God.
The above problem of an infinite regress has sometimes been incorrectly applied to other cosmological arguments such as the contingency (“vertical”) argument based on the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas, however, actually denied the validity of arguing for the beginning of the universe based on an infinite regress! His “vertical” cosmological argument is actually making a completely different claim than the “horizontal” version:
- At least one contingent being (i.e., an existing being whose existence is not necessary, or who could possibly not exist) exists.
- Contingent beings must have an external cause of their existence.
- An infinite number of contingent beings cannot account for the existence of all contingent beings.
- Therefore, a necessary being (a being that cannot not-exist) exists (God).
The key issue is that even an infinite number of contingent beings cannot ultimately explain the existence of a single contingent being (in the same way that positing an infinite number of train cars does not explain the motion of the first train car—there has to be an engine). The problem is not that there cannot be an infinite number of things (Aquinas argued that there could be). Rather, it is that even an infinite number of contingent beings could never ultimately account for itself.
Familiarity with these kinds of arguments allows one to respond with precision, which in turn helps make dialogue fruitful. While it may seem nitpicky to insist on such precision, terminology is important because words and ideas are intertwined. Confusion about how these arguments work can have negative and long-lasting effects.
Even simply confusing two types of arguments that fall under same general category can make them seem to lack the support or strength they actually have. This, in turn, could lead to an unwarranted abandonment of a reasonable conclusion—in this case, that God the creator exists.
Argument from design
Design arguments are based on some fact of creation that appears to require a creator. Two primary forms—arguments based on intelligent design and on teleology, or ultimate ends—are often lumped together, although they do not work the same way.
An example of this confusion can be found on the popular Christian apologetics website GotQuestions.org. In an article titled “What is the teleological argument for the existence of God?” the author moves from teleology to design without indicating any difference: “The word teleology comes from telos, which means ‘purpose’ or ‘goal.’ . . . In other words, a design implies a designer.”
The problem is, design and purpose are not the same thing. The overlap between arguments from design and from teleology is understandable, but if we are to offer our best arguments, we have to be precise in our language and make necessary distinctions.
Intelligent design arguments typically proceed from the identification of various patterns, information, or statistical probabilities to God’s existence as the best explanation for these phenomena. Many of these arguments are directed against evolution, but their end goal is really to show that an intelligent agent had to be behind these features. Intelligent design arguments are usually of the form:
- The universe exhibits some property that is evidence of design (e.g., information, improbability, hospitality to life, etc.).
- Design is always thought to be caused by some intelligence.
- Therefore, the best explanation for the evidence is that there exists an intelligent designer (God) who intentionally brought it about.
There are both micro and macro versions of intelligent design arguments, some from things smaller than we can observe unaided (DNA, bacteria, etc.) and some larger (atmosphere, galaxies, etc.). To the extent that any of these things are shown to have some kind of design, they are used as evidence for a designer and thus having an intelligent cause.
Telos, on the other hand, is the Greek word for “end” or “goal.” A true teleological argument, therefore, looks for purpose in creation—not simply randomly improbable states, information codes, or irreducibly complex systems. Aquinas’s “fifth way” argument, for example, relies on the explanation for goal- or end-directed natures, activities, or properties found in creation. It goes like this:
- We see that natural things without knowledge act toward some end (specific goal).
- What lacks intelligence is directed to its end by something intelligent.
- Therefore, a creator (God) exists who directs these natural things to their end.
Goal-directed systems are accounted for by the existence of an intelligent being who directs that system. Since all created things seem to operate according to some goal (even goals that are not their own, such as those of rocks and protons), the entire universe can be explained only by the existence of an intelligent being beyond creation.
This distinction between intelligent design and the teleological argument is important because the refutation of one is not that of the other. For example, intelligent design arguments are often employed against Darwinian evolution, whereas teleology is not affected by questions about the method the Creator used to create. As Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (later Pope Benedict XVI) said in regard to the creation narrative in Genesis 2:
The story of the dust of the earth and the breath of God, which we just heard, does not in fact explain how human persons come to be but rather what they are. It explains their inmost origin and casts light on the project that they are. And, vice versa, the theory of evolution seeks to understand and describe biological developments. But in so doing it cannot explain where the “project” of human persons comes from, nor their inner origin, nor their particular nature. To that extent we are faced here with two complementary—rather than mutually exclusive—realities (In the Beginning: A Catholic Understanding of the Story of Creation and the Fall, 50).
Further, while intelligent design arguments are sometimes at the mercy of interpretive statistics and open to such rejoinders as have been levied against William Paley’s famous “watchmaker” argument, teleological arguments (which are philosophical and not scientific or mathematical) are not so vulnerable.
So, when someone like Richard Dawkins makes claims such as, “the teleological argument, sometimes called the Argument from Design . . . is the familiar ‘watchmaker’ argument, which is surely one of the most superficially plausible bad arguments ever discovered,” he is confusing two completely different arguments.
Nowhere is precision in language more required than when arguing for the existence of God. Small mistakes in language and logic in the beginning of an argument can lead not only to losing an argument but could lead to losing one’s faith.
Argument from morality
Moral arguments, when employed to support the case for the existence of God, generally proceed from conscience or from laws of action back to their ultimate cause. This is where we often run into questions and claims about natural law and how such law can be known at the level of conscience by any rational person, regardless of his faith.
Two important things to note right away are, first, that natural law and conscience are not the same thing, and second, natural law does not simply point to, as many claim, what we see occur in the created world. Confusions between these kinds of related ideas can ruin otherwise good arguments based on them.
Natural law refers to the order of creation and how beings flourish according to their ontological nature (i.e., what they are). Conscience, on the other hand, refers to one’s inner motivation to act according to moral laws (to do good and avoid doing evil). These two often overlap as to their content, but they are not the same thing.
For one thing, while natural law points to a being’s purpose and consequently what is good for it, the fact that something is good for that being does not necessarily imply any moral obligation (i.e., just because something is good to do does not mean I must do it). Conversely, one’s conscience motivates one to follow its dictates even when one does not understand why exactly.
Another difference is that natural law is based in ontology and is discoverable in philosophy, whereas conscience can be formed (or distorted) more easily by subjective means.
Here is a good example of the confusion regarding natural law:
Natural law has different meanings. It can mean those laws that are naturally derived from observing nature and are therefore obligatory to all mankind. In philosophy, it can mean those moral laws that are naturally inherent in being human and are thus knowable (“Natural Law,” online at carm.org).
Note that while the second meaning corresponds to a certain degree with the traditional definition, “observing nature” as it is used in the first case here is said to morally oblige humans in some way. Yet “nature” here is referring to observations from the created world, not to what a thing is ontologically.
The moral law argument for God from conscience is often said to be based on St. Paul’s writings:
When Gentiles who have not the law do by nature what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that what the law requires is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts accuse or perhaps excuse them (Rom. 2:14-15).
Paul shows here that God’s laws are not limited to his supernatural revelation; rather, humans can come to know moral precepts by following their (properly formed) internal conscience.
C.S. Lewis famously used this argument in the first pages of his book Mere Christianity. It usually goes something like this:
- All people recognize that some things are right and some things are wrong, which implies a universal standard or “law.”
- Standards and laws require a lawgiver to ground them.
- This universal law requires a universal lawgiver (God).
The key here is that moral intuition, or a sense of right and wrong, seems to be built into humans, regardless of the society in which they were raised. The point is not that no one disagrees or fails to do the good, but that when this occurs, a society tends to recognize it and penalize it accordingly.
This universal conscience seems to imply a universal moral law that serves as the standard for all people. Being “above” all people, the cause of this moral intuition must transcend mere humanity, because all humans seem to be aware of and captive to this standard. A transcendent law implies a transcendent lawgiver.
Now, it is one thing to ground universal moral laws in God—it is another to explain how we come to know that law. At this point, understandably, many people confuse the moral law argument from conscience with the natural law argument from goodness.
Natural law arguments proceed from the nature of things (what they are) to moral laws (what they should do) based on those natures. Thus, it is more of a mechanism for discovering goodness than arguing that it must be pursued.
- All beings have particular natures, including their purposes, and an action is morally good if it contributes to the being’s achievement of its purpose.
- Moral acts track with a thing’s achieving of its purpose but must be given their status as moral laws by the creator of those things.
- Natural laws become obligatory moral laws through the creator (God).
Natural laws are derived from observations and experience of things in the world around us. By knowing what something is we can know its purpose and objectively determine what is good or bad for it. This part works whether or not natural laws are expanded upon—or explicated by—some deity.
That is why the natural law is not necessarily the same thing as the moral law “written on the heart” by God. A space alien could observe humanity and discover natural human moral principles without knowing any specific human moral code (which is often violated anyway).
Getting from observable natural law to obligatory moral law is a move that requires a law maker. The conscience, on the other hand, seems to operate without this kind of philosophical investigation, and is thus more properly considered the law “written on the heart.” While both of these laws ultimately require God, they are not the same things.
Apologetic arguments suffer when they are misstated, often making them seem to lack the support or strength they actually have. In this article we’ve considered some nuanced distinctions that may be missed in popular restatements of classic arguments from the cosmos’s existence, its design, and the moral law. Getting these right is important, because their perceived failure could be the excuse someone needs to abandon their conclusion: the existence of the God of Christianity.