"The intelligent man finds almost everything ridiculous, the sensible man hardly anything." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
***
A friend of mine got forwarded the same, old, tired, nonsensical and fatally flawed chestnut about the atheistic Professor (and I've been personally forwarded that at least once in the past).
The following infinitely more plausible and sensible version has been floating around for a while, so it behooves me to repost it here:
The Atheist Professor's Brain, Redux
"DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Dr. Jeff Jones -- a philosophy professor at a Midwestern University with a chip on his shoulder. He claims to be an atheist, but acts more like a Christian's caricature of one.
Tom Moyner -- an atheist since age 17, he is a sophomore at this University and doesn't particularly like Dr. Jones, whom he considers the personification of everything Christians find wrong with atheists.
Richard Jackson -- a young Christian freshman who is easily befuddled by even the simple arguments of the supposedly experienced atheistic Professor.
Phil Bredlin -- also a sophomore, a more experienced Christian than Richard Jackson and is more aggressive and not so easily intimidated by the likes of Dr. Jones. His arguments, however, are not much better than those of the atheistic professor he so despises.
Patricia Munroe -- a freshman, and an atheist, studying philosophy for the first time. Though the professor's antics were legendary and she knew his reputation, his actions on this day, and his inability to handle the challenges of an uninformed Christian student, was going to spur her to activism in the areas of freethought, church-state separation, and the evolution-creationism controversy.
* * * *
"Let me explain the problem science has with Jesus Christ."
Tom had been reading his philosophy book; but now his attention was riveted to the front of the room where the professor stood, and Tom noticed he had that peculiar smile on his face. Tom sensed that the professor was not about to engage in any intellectual argumentation but rather in intimidation and ridicule. Tom, an atheist, had already heard from other students of the professor's reputation to bait weak Christians in his class and try to humiliate them with foolish arguments. Tom felt that an educated atheist should guard his integrity by avoiding such silly nit-picking attacks and instead use good solid reasonable arguments in an atmosphere of fairness.
The atheist professor of philosophy paused before his class and then asked one of his new students to stand.
Tom recognized the student as one he had spoken with before. His name was Richard; he was from Iowa, and was relatively new to the Christian faith.
He was very zealous, and he could be seen often around campus reading his bible or sharing with others about what Jesus had done for him. Tom had "debated" him once or twice already; Tom knew Richard was no match for the professor, but a small part of him hoped to see this arrogant and silly professor knocked down a few sizes. Some humility would do him some good. Atheists had enough problems overcoming the negative stereotypes of the likes of Madalyn O' Hare. They didn't need this idiot teaching philosophy to do more damage.
"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"
"Yes, sir," Richard said. Tom could tell Richard was nervous; yet he had that hopeful look of a Christian who thought he may be getting his chance to make a stand for the Lord.
"So you believe in God?" the snotty professor asked.
"Absolutely." Richard replied immediately.
"Is God good?" the professor continued.
"Sure! God's good."
Richard appeared uncertain as to where this was leading. Tom knew the professor was going to use the argument from evil in an attempt to confuse the new Christian.
"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?" the professor pressed.
"Yes.” Richard said. He sensed a trap, but he just didn't have the experience to answer quickly and surely on his feet.
"Are you good or evil?" smiled the professor.
"The Bible says I'm evil." answered Richard.
Tom remembered well the verse in the Bible that stated that "all our righteousness is as filthy rags." He remembered sermons on mankind's general unworthiness and how they didn't deserve to even breathe the air that God had made. He remembered how he was taught in sermons they should constantly praise Yahweh for being good enough to let them live another day. They were worms in the sight of Yahweh, but out of the goodness of his heart he would spare those who accepted his love.
The professor grins knowingly. "Ahh! THE BIBLE!"
He considered for a moment, looked around the room, then back to Richard:
"Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them? Would you try?"
"Yes sir, I would." replied Richard with conviction.
"So you're good . . . !"
"I wouldn't say that." Richard shook his head.
Tom winced. One of the things that he felt so detestable about the Christian message was it made mankind out to be totally unworthy of life itself, a detestable thing. Tom thought again that many a sermon had been preached to him when he was a boy growing up in North Carolina telling how mankind was totally unworthy to "even breathe the air God had given" and how man should grovel before the throne of the Almighty if he is fortunate enough to wake up in the morning. Such messages usually told of the horrors of an everlasting torment in hell that awaited those who would not accept this God's love.
Tom hated to see this intelligent young man, not only sucked in by a demeaning religion that devalued the good in man and him being harassed by the so-called atheist professor, but also for him to take this self-loathing attitude that could only be the product of childhood abuse or the religion of fundamentalist Christianity.
"Why not say that? the Professor asked, as he shuffled some books on his desk. You would help a sick and maimed person if you could . . .in fact most of us would if we could. I know I would. Yet . . . God doesn't."
The professor folded his arms and waited.
Richard was totally nonplused. He just stood there, baffled. Tom looked behind him and saw Phil, another Christian and an outspoken critic of atheism, liberalism, and a strong advocate of putting prayer back into the public schools, leaning forward intently, with the look of someone who was just itching to jump into the fray.
Tom had spoken with Phil before. Phil was a veteran Christian. He had been one for 10 years; he knew the secret handshake, the party mantra and some of the objections to evolution which usually consisted of the tiresome "second law of thermodynamics" objection heard so often from creationists.
Once Tom had asked Phil how many laws of Thermodynamics there were and grinned inwardly when he saw Phil was stumped. Phil had merely been repeating what he had read from a Christian group out in San Diego, California. He had done no formal studies in either biology or physics.
Tom knew Phil could be a real jackass sometimes but maybe he would be the one to embarrass this sorry excuse of an "atheist" standing before them. He almost hoped so.
The professor broke the silence, still gazing down at Richard.. "He doesn't, does he?" He then added something that Tom did not know, something that may have revealed why this sorry excuse of an atheist was the way he was . . .
"My brother was a Christian who died of cancer even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him . . . How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"
Silence.
Richard was obviously an unhappy camper at this point.
The elderly professor was sympathetic. "No, you can't, can you?"
He took a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax. In philosophy, you have to go easy with the new ones.
Tom though Mr. Jones didn't realize he was only making himself look foolish and providing Christians with negative views of what atheists were really like; just normal people who wanted to live life like everyone else; people with hopes and dreams and families that they loved with just as much passion as Christians who loved their families.
"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"
"Er . . . Yes."
"Is Satan good?"
"No." Richard shifted his feet, uncomfortable. Tom just shook his head and thought to himself how fortunate he and his atheist friends on campus were that they did not have this idiotic self-proclaimed atheist showing up at their freethought meetings. Mr. Jones would be an embarrassment too them all.
"Where does Satan come from?"
The student faltered. “From . . . God . . ."
"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he?"
The elderly man ran his long fingers through his thick grey hair and turned to the student audience.
"I think we're going to have a lot of fun this semester, ladies and gentlemen."
Why? thought Tom, to watch you ridicule others whose beliefs you do not share; to try to make fools out of them and yourself, giving atheist people a reputation they did not deserve?
The professor turned back to the Richard. "Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"
"Yes, sir."
"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? Did God make everything?"
"Yes."
"Who created evil?" the professor asked.
Tom knew the answer to that one. He thought of his own bible studies he had done over the years and remembered Isiah 45:7 and other passages as well. He remembered reading how Satan was totally unable to do anything without Yahweh's explicit permission. He remembered how Yahweh brought natural calamities and war upon people and whole nations, sometimes for trivial offenses that they or someone else had committed.
Meanwhile, Richard had given no reply. He stood there, pale and disoriented. Tom thought Mr. Jones was just being spiteful. In fact, Tom was just beginning to feel maybe Mr. Jones wasn't really an atheist at all; he just claimed to be one so he could fight with Christian students in his class. Tom wanted to learn philosophy; not how to argue with and intimidate someone who was obviously outmatched.
"Is there sickness in this world? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness. All the terrible things - do they exist in this world? "
Richard squirmed on his feet. "Yes." He had finally spoken again.
Tom was thinking Richard should just tell the professor to piss off and leave the classroom. No one, no matter what their religion (or lack thereof) was, should have to just stand there and take this.
"Come on man" Tom muttered to Richard under his breath, "you don't have to take this shit."
"Who created them? "Richard didn't reply.
The professor suddenly shouted at his student.
"WHO CREATED THEM? TELL ME, PLEASE!"
Tom was stunned by this outburst. What an asshole, he thought to himself. He couldn't understand why Richard was just standing there and taking it. Maybe he felt by doing so he was being persecuted in the name of Christ and would reap a bountiful harvest in heaven one day.
The professor closed in for the kill and climbed into the Christian's face. In a quiet voice: "God created all evil, didn't He, son?"
Tom was not amused. He made a mental note to report this stunt to the campus authorities.
He looked back at Phil. He could see Phil was angry too. He appeared ready to jump in any moment. Maybe that would not be a bad thing. Although Tom had handled Phil rather easily in a previous "debate" he hoped Phil would jump in and maybe put Mr. Jones in his place; if not, he was about to do it himself.
Meanwhile there was no answer from Richard. Richard tried to hold the steady, experienced gaze and failed. Suddenly the lecturer broke away to pace the front of the classroom like an aging panther. The class is mesmerized, except for Tom, Phil, and perhaps a few others.
"Tell me," he continued, "How is it that this God is good if He created all evil throughout all time?" The professor swished his arms around to encompass the wickedness of the world.
"All the hatred, the brutality, all the pain, all the torture, all the death and ugliness and all the suffering created by this good God is all over the world, isn't it, young man?"
Richard could not reply.
"Don't you see it all over the place? Huh?"
Silence.
"Don't you?" The professor leaned into the student's face again and whispered, "Is God good?"
There was again no reply from Richard.
"Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"
The student's voice betrays him and cracks.
"Yes, professor. I do."
The old man shook his head sadly.
"Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"
"No, sir. I've never seen Him." Richard was talking again.
"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"
"No, sir. I have not."
At least that's better than those nuts who carry on personal conversations with the Almighty on a daily basis Tom thought to himself.
"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus . . . in fact, do you have any sensory perception of your God whatsoever?" continued Jones.
Richard gave no reply, but he still refused to sit. Perhaps the overwhelming need to be persecuted for his beliefs kept him locked in place. Tom knew from experience that some Christians actually find affirmation of their beliefs in persecution. Maybe Richard was one.
Tom tossed a wadded piece of paper and bounced it off the wall into the wastebasket. The professor didn't notice.
"Answer me, please."
"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."
"You're AFRAID . . . you haven't?"
"No, sir."
"Yet you still believe in him?"
" . . . yes . . ."
"That takes FAITH!" Dr. Jones thundered, conspicuously dramatic.
Tom knew there were two kinds of faith, even in the Bible. There is belief without evidence, and belief that if someone tells you if you do such and such, they will in turn do such and such for you. This faith is based on experience, experience with the individual talking, in a situation where familiarity has been established; in other words, a relationship that is built on trust. The professor was, of course, referring to the first kind of faith.
The professor smiled sagely at the underling.
"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son? Where is your God now?"
Richard did not reply, but Tom knew that it was not science's purpose to demonstrate whether God existed. That was a matter of theology, not science. Science purposefully limited itself to the natural world to find natural explanations for the world around us. It may would prove to be wrong in the future, but so far, science had, through trial and error, found the answer to many things through natural causes. That did not mean Tom believed everything just on science's say-so. One reason he was at the University was to study biology and physics, and he wanted to find answers to some questions he had about evolution and things like the second law of thermodynamics. He already knew a little about them, having studied freethought literature from groups out of California and Wisconsin, but he wanted to get more from the professors, the specialists, themselves.
"Sit down, please." said the professor.
Richard sat, defeated.
* * * *
Suddenly, Phil raised his hand and spoke, "Professor, may I address the class?"
The professor turned and smiled.
"Ah, another Christian in the vanguard! Come, come, young man. Speak some proper wisdom to the gathering."
Richard looked around the room at his friend.
"Some interesting points you are making, sir. Now I've got a question for you."
Interesting my ass, thought Tom. He knew that Phil used this as a come-on, a disarming technique to set up his opponent.
"Is there such thing as heat?"
"Yes," the professor replied, "There's heat."
"Is there such a thing as cold?"
"Yes, son, there's cold too."
"No, sir, there isn't."
The professor's grin froze. The room suddenly grew very cold. Phil could barely suppress a grin. He obviously felt he had really caught the professor in an embarrassing mistake.
Tom, meanwhile, just rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had heard this line of argumentation from Phil before; and even though he had once totally shot Phil's arguments to shreds, here was Phil, again, using the same arguments against the atheistic professor as though nothing had ever been said about them before. How familiar.
The Christian apologists were fond of using the same old worn-out, discredited arguments over and over again, unashamed of their intellectual dishonesty. He did want the atheistic professor humbled; but now, with Phil starting off with such a silly argument as the one he was using with the professor, Tom was beginning to rethink his earlier desire to see the professor humbled, even if was by a Christian.
Looking to his left, Tom saw a Patricia Munroe taking notes -- verbose notes, from the amount of writing she was doing. Tom wondered why.
Phil continued, "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that.
"There is no such thing as cold," Phil pressed forward, "otherwise we would be able to go colder than 458 - You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. "
There was some murmuring in the classroom; indistinct comments that Tom could not make out. Maybe he was not the only student in this classroom who could think clearly. However, seemingly oblivious to that, Phil continued:
"Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."
Silence. A pin dropped somewhere in the classroom. Was the silence the result of Phil's stupidity or did the students really think he had cornered the professor? Tom didn't know. He certainly saw the flaw in Phil's logic. Hopefully Mr. Jones would come to his senses and punch a few holes in it.
One problem with Phil's logic was he was using the old bait-and-switch tactic. He was using a word with its most common meaning (as accepted by 99.99% of the American populace); then, when the professor answered his question with the acceptance of the most common definition of cold (i.e. having a temperature lower than the normal temperature of the body), Phil hit him with the thermodynamic definition of "cold". This was an obvious move to embarrass the professor.
However, there were other, more serious problems for Phil, problems that Tom had already pointed out to him when they had has this conversation before. Phil's own holy book, the Bible, seemed oblivious to the fact that cold did not exist. Tom remembered several times the Bible used the word (John 18:18; Acts 28:2; Genesis 8:22; Job 24:7) and he had presented them to Phil then. Phil must have forgotten or otherwise he was counting on the professor's ignorance and Tom's silence. Not to worry! Tom would deal with him later.
"Is there such a thing as darkness, professor?" Phil was asking.
"That's a dumb question, son. What is night if it isn't darkness? What are you getting at?"
"So you say there is such a thing as darkness?"
"Yes . . ."
"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something, it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light-- but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it?"
Tom could hardly believe it. Again, the bait-and-switch. And again, the Bible was full of examples that showed "darkness" was considered every much a thing as light was (Isaiah 45:7; Genesis 1:4,5; Exodus 10:21,22; 2 Chronicles 6:1; Job 28:3; Luke 23:44). Besides, using Phil's logic, there was no such thing as stupidity, since stupidity was only a lack of wisdom and intelligence.
"That's the meaning we use to define the word. " Mr. Jones responded.
"In reality, Darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker and give me a jar of it. Can you give me a jar of darker darkness, professor?"
Tom glared at Phil. He hadn't seen such intellectual dishonesty in a long time. Using Phil's crazed logic we could say there is no such thing as illness -- illness is just the absence of health; or we could claim that there is no such thing as poverty -- poverty is only the absence of wealth, or that pain did not exist -- pain is merely the absence of comfort, etc. Tom knew he could go on and on. And Phil's argument that we could not make darkness darker and put it in a jar of it was laughable. We can not make an empty jar emptier, but does that mean there is no such thing as "empty?"
Would Mr. Jones ever catch on?
Despite himself, Mr. Jones smiled at the young effrontery before him. "This will indeed be a good semester. Would you mind telling us what your point is, young man?"
"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with and so your conclusion must be in error--"
Mr. Jones was angry now. "Flawed? How dare you!"
"Sir, may I explain what I mean?"
The class was all ears. Tom listened intently.
"Explain . . . oh, explain . . ." Mr. Jones said, making an admirable effort to regain control. Suddenly he was affability itself. He waved his hand to silence the class, for the student to continue.
"You are working on the premise of duality," the Christian explains, "That for example there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure.
"Sir," Phil went on, "science cannot even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism but has never seen, much less fully understood them. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, merely the absence of it."
Yeah, Tom thought, if death is merely the absence of life then I suppose this desk I am sitting in is dead. He shook his head in amazement at Phil. Phil was so intelligent in many things; calculus for one. But when it came to defending his faith he could not reason his way out of a paper bag.
Phil held up a newspaper he had taken from the desk of a surprised neighbor who had been reading it. "Here is one of the most disgusting tabloids this country hosts, professor. Is there such a thing as immorality?"
"Of course there is, now look--" the professor tried to answer his opponent.
"Wrong again, sir, " Phil interrupted, "You see, immorality is merely the absence of morality. " Phil paused then asked "Is there such thing as injustice?" No," Phil answered his own question without giving the professor a chance to respond. "Injustice is the absence of justice." Phil handed the tabloid back to the student, turned again to the professor then asked, "Is there such a thing as evil?"
Phil paused. Mr. Jones did not respond. He stared at Phil.
"Isn't evil the absence of good?" Phil pressed him for an answer.
The professor's face has turned an alarming color. He was so angry he was temporarily speechless. Tom hoped he was finally beginning to see the sophistry and intellectual bankruptcy in Phil's arguments.
Phil, reeking with a confidence that Tom could see was really arrogance, the kind of arrogance that he all to often encountered in those who felt they alone were blessed by god and everyone else would fry in hell for all eternity continued, "If there is evil in the world, professor, and we all agree there is, then God, if he exists, must be accomplishing a work through the agency of evil. What is that work, God is accomplishing?"
The professor was silent.
"The Bible tells us it is to see if each one of us will, of our own free will, choose good over evil."
The professor bridled. He wasn't used to getting cornered by a Christian. He had found in his years teaching that they were usually very gullible and easily handled. However, this one was a tough one.
Meanwhile, Tom was wondering who was more stupid, Phil or Mr. Jones. Tom had no hard feelings toward Phil. He actually felt sorry for him. But Mr. Jones gave all atheists a bad name. Phil was just intellectually dishonest, and this was why Tom was angry at him
Besides, although it was true that some verses in the Bible spoke of choice, there were others that plainly showed that some did not have choice at all. Tom recalled the case of the hapless Pharaoh in Egypt whose heart Yahweh hardened, so he would disobey God's command to let the Israelites depart from Egypt. Then, Tom remembered, he and his people were punished for the decision he had made. Tom recalled another passage from the New Testament that promised God would send certain people a strong delusion, that they would believe a lie. Then, of course, there was always Romans, chapter eight.
Patricia was still writing furiously in her notebook. Was she really buying into this? What was she doing?
"As a philosophical scientist," the professor was saying, "I don't view this matter as having anything to do with any choice. As a realist, I absolutely do not recognize the concept of God or any other theological factor as being part of the world equation, because God is not observable."
"I would have thought that the absence of God's moral code in this world is probably one of the most observable phenomena going," Phil replied. "Newspapers make billions of dollars reporting it every week!" He rubbed his hands together, almost gleefully. "Tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"
"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."
Tom groaned. What an idiot! Here was a philosophy teacher (certainly not a biology teacher) reinforcing what creationists like the creationist group in San Diego had been saying all along; that evolutionists claim mankind descended from apes. Well, maybe Mr. Jones and his debating partner did; but Tom certainly didn't and he knew Phil knew better because he had set him straight on that issue before. Yet Phil, knowing his prey, was setting him up to embarrass him further.
"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"
The professor made a sucking sound with his teeth and gave his student a silent, stony stare. He was losing and he knew it. He didn't like it.
"Professor, since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an ongoing endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a priest?"
Tom knew that evolution had been observed on the HIV virus that leads to AIDS. He also knew that he and Phil had watched this shown on educational TV a few weeks earlier so Phil had no excuse to claim that no one had ever observed evolution in progress.
There were other examples that Tom had shared with him; he had even loaned him several books from the National Center for Science Education which shot his arguments to shreds. Phil was still parroting the same old shit he had learned from Christian apologetics' propaganda. And he was doing it without any embarrassment, for he knew Tom was sitting there listening.
You go boy, Tom thought to himself, You have destroyed your witness and testimony as far as I am concerned. Never try to convert me again.
Tom became aware of the classroom debate again. "I'll overlook your impudence in the light of our philosophical discussion," Mr. Jones was hissing. "Now, have you quite finished?"
"So you don't accept God's moral code to do what is righteous?"
Whose God should we accept? Tom thought. and who decides what righteousness is and who decides for us the criteria we are going to use to determine which God is the God we should follow? Tom shook his head and focused back on the "debate".
"I believe in what is -- that's science!" a flustered Mr. Jones said.
"Ahh! Science!" Phil's face split into a grin, "Sir, you rightly state that science is the study of observed phenomena. Science too is a premise which is flawed . . ."
"SCIENCE IS FLAWED . . .?" the professor spluttered..
The class was in uproar. Tom looked around. Some students were celebrating, others were looking at this impudent Christian and saying things that Tom could not make out because of the tumult.
Phil remained standing until the commotion subsided.
"To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, may I give you an example of what I mean?"
The professor wisely kept silent. Tom hoped they would both shut the hell up.
The Christian looked around the room.
"Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?"
Many in the class broke out in laughter. The more intelligent ones, like Tom, just shook their heads in utter amazement. They could not believe Phil was actually that stupid to ask such a question. Patricia was only looking at Phil with a raised eyebrow.
Phil pointed toward his elderly, crumbling tutor. "Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain? Felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain?" He asked triumphantly. He seemed very happy with himself.
No one said anything. But Tom knew all the professor would have to do is take Phil to the medical school in town, have an MRI and Phil would actually be able to see the professor's brain in the same way a woman can see her baby with ultra-sound, or in the same way we can see our bones on an X-ray. Better, the effects of the professor's brain could be demonstrated empirically.
Phil shook his head sadly, then with a touch of arrogance he announced, "Since it appears no one here has had any sensory perception of the demonstrable protocol, science, I DECLARE that the professor has no brain."
The class again had a mixed reaction. Some of the students were in chaos, jumping up and down, celebrating. Others were pounding their desks in triumph. But some were silent, and as Tom looked around, their eyes met. Not a word was spoken, but Tom knew that they knew. This class had been a circus from the very beginning.
* * * *
Suddenly, Patricia stood up and faced Phil. Tom wasn't sure what to expect. Was she going to pour more hot coals on the professor's head?
"Phil," she said softly, "Your whole line of argumentation has been flawed from the very beginning."
Phil was startled. He had not expected to be challenged so soon after destroying the professor. He know Patricia, but he never had a clue that she was an atheist, so why would she be challenging him? Maybe she was a believer and in the spirit of love was going to point out some flaws in his reasoning. But why would she do that now, in front of all the other students, in his moment of victory?
He gulped, and waited for her to present him with where he went astray with his argumentation -- although he would never admit this, he had a gnawing sense of dread that it would be the same flaws that Tom had pointed out to him in a earlier debate.
Patricia, known for her quiet demeanor and gentle spirit, had caught the attention of the entire class.
"Phil, she said, you claimed that there is no such thing as cold because we could not measure it. You stated further that it was merely the absence of heat. What you don't seem to understand is there is nothing in the definition of 'cold' that states there can be an infinite amount of it. You are correct in saying it is simply the absence of heat, but the fact that cold does not extend to infinity does not indicate 'cold' does not exist."
Phil started to reply, but Patricia waved him off and said, "Let me finish. You had your say. When I am done and you wish to reply by all means do.
"You stated further that there was no such thing as darkness. You made a . . . I'll be charitable, a rather odd challenge to Professor Jones to present you with a jar of darkness. Your question was whether there was such a thing as darkness. There most certainly is; it is characterized by the absence of light. Just because you cannot have an infinite amount of it does not mean that darkness is a meaningless concept. If a container is completely empty, then we say it is empty. It cannot get any emptier, but it does not thereby cease to be empty.
"You said that death was simply the absence of life. That is hardly the case. A rock is absent of life, yet we would hardly call it dead, would we?"
There were a few snickers from the class. A young man slapped his knee. Patricia continued.
"That word 'dead' carries with it the assumption that whatever is dead was once alive. You continued to persist in such questions, using the bait-and-switch routine, and succeeded in making yourself look silly to those who know better."
Phil was slack-jawed. He was speechless.
Patricia looked around. She had the full attention of the class. Even the professor was watching her closely, yielding the floor as it were, watching the lioness devour her prey.
"Let me explain the problems with your argumentation and your good-evil analogy," she said calmly, with a sense of authority and assurance that can only come with experience,
"First, most of the analogies you attempt to use deal with quantitative states rather than qualitative. Light, for instance, can be measured in photons and wave-lengths; heat in calories and degrees. There is no scale for measuring good and evil.
"Second, evil is not simply the absence of good; it is by definition more than simply a neutral state. A rock is not inherently good; yet we do not say it is evil. There is much substance in evil as there is in good, just as there are equal amounts of substance in the concept of left and right; right is not simply the absence of left."
Tom looked admiringly on Patricia. She was really laying it on the Christian.
Patricia was not finished. "You made a statement to the effect that the Bible tells us God must be accomplishing a work through the agency of evil and it is for the purpose to see if each one of us will, of our own free will, choose good over evil . . . now, could you tell me where in the Bible it says that?"
Some students nodded their heads in approval. Tom just smiled. This was going to be good.
"Uh," Phil stammered, "it would take me a minute to look it up . . ."
Patricia nodded "I'll give you a minute. In fact, if Mr. Jones has no objection, I'll give you--" she glanced at the clock "--forty-eight minutes before the class ends." She looked at the professor, who only nodded in concession. She turned back to Phil. "We will wait."
Phil stammered, "Well, uh . . . I am really not sure where in the Bible it says that . . ."
"Could it be," ventured Patricia, "that it does not say that God values what you say he values anywhere in the Bible?"
Phil was silent.
"I am well studied in Christianity, Phil, and I can tell you for a fact that it does not state anywhere in the Bible that God wishes people to choose good of their own free will. In fact, in many places in both the Old and New Testaments, God is portrayed as actually interfering with people's free wills in order to cause them to choose certain things.
"Also," continued Patricia, "there are natural evils which claim millions of lives every year, which are by no means the result of mankind’s decisions. Did crime and immorality cause the big earthquake last year? Of course not -- yet many, many lives were lost as a result of it. The free will theodicy leaves natural evils unexplained."
Phil seemed to be shrinking with each passing minute. Tom was smiling. This was getting really good.
Patricia took a sip out of her water bottle then continued, "You said that the absence of God's moral code in this world is the most observable phenomena going. I find that funny. Haven't you heard of the Inquisition? What about the Crusades, the witch hunts, the dungeons for those that spoke contrary to Christianity during the dark ages, the persecution of those who went against the church's geocentric and flat-earth world views?"
Phil was already defeated. He knew he had met his match. It annoyed him it was a woman that was doing this to him. She'll burn one day in hell, he thought to himself, and she'll regret every word she ever said to me this day. And I'll look down from Heaven and tell her 'I told you so!'
Patricia caught on to his look. "I know what you're thinking, Phil," she said. "You're thinking that I'm going to burn in hell for my heresy. And you actually look pleased with the thought. What does it say about God's moral code that he would allow me to be physically tortured for anything? And what does it say about your own that you apparently like that idea?
Tom couldn't help it -- he gave a loud chuckle. Patricia glanced at him with a slight grin on her face, before turning back to Phil and continuing:
"Your question about whether man evolved from a monkey just shows your ignorance. Any scientist worth his salt, especially one in the field of biology, would never make that claim. And anyone who has studied one semester in biology -- in fact, one week --would be knowledgeable enough not to ask such a question. I would recommend a course in biology while you are here. It might do you some good. You'll learn, among other things, that monkeys and man both descended from something else entirely -- a common ancestor.
"You also asked Mr. Jones if he didn't accept God's moral code to do what is righteous. I can't speak for him but I do accept many tenents of what Jesus taught, but I do not acknowledge them as being the result of Jesus and the Christian God. The so-called Golden-rule, for instance, predates Christianity by centuries; it is found in Buddhist and Confusianism texts. I also use reason to determine which rules of the Bible I will follow and which ones I will not follow. If it benefits me, my family, and my country, I will use it. If using one of those codes brings pain to me, one of my family members, weakens my country, and even the human race, I will reject it."
"But . . ." Phil finally managed to produce noises from his throat. "You cannot judge God. You cannot just pick and choose which rules you will follow and which ones you will not. God has not left that choice open to us."
"Before I accept any book as God's word," said Patricia, "I must have an external criteria with which I will judge the book before me. I will not just blindly accept any book as infallible and authoritative without subjecting it to reason. If it were valid to accept a book totally on faith without being permitted to judge the author, we could not rightly condemn those who hold the Koran in high esteem, for they use the same approach that you do. And if reason ultimately fails, then it fails. Until I am shown something better than reason, I will stick with it."
Phil started to say something, thought better of it, and let Patricia continue.
"You asked whether the professor had a brain?" Patricia phrased it like a question, wanting to draw an affirmative answer from Phil.
"Yes," Phil said. "I said since we could not feel, smell, or see his brain then he must not have one."
"Well then," said Patricia, "if you had just proven the professor did not have a brain, then why were you talking to him? Did you think you were talking to an inanimate object, perhaps? Would an inanimate object be empowered to give you course credit for this class?"
"That wasn't my point," Phil protested. "I'm not saying that the professor doesn't have a brain; only that science can't prove that he does!"
"And what is a brain?" asked Patricia.
"The brain . . . well, its the thinking center of the body---"
"Well then, " Patricia said with a smile, "I'm afraid you yourself have proven that he does, in fact, have a brain."
"What . . . !" It was the Christian's turn to sputter.
"By talking to him, by attending his class. You assume that he has a thinking center, which is a brain."
"But no one has seen his brain!" Phil protested.
"Nobody has ever seen your brain either, Phil . . . but I'm sure we'll all give you the benefit of the doubt."
The class roared with laughter. Tom laughed so hard he was coughing. This was something to behold.
"You see," she said, "you cannot sense his or my brain with the unaided senses, but the physics department has a device which will, if you'd like, give you a photographic picture of his brain as he speaks to you. This device was constructed through man's reasoning, and, ultimately, from his unaided senses. In other words, science."
A long silence.
Finally, Phil sat . . . because that is what a chair is for.
And the chair collapsed under him.
Phil looked around, startled, as the class started laughing at him. Tom was doubled over. He was laughing so hard it was beginning to hurt. Patricia only smiled and shook her head, a little sadly.
Before she sat down, she turned to Phil and said, "You see what happens when you try to attack science -- you cut your own throat. You affirm the fact that science works every time you sit in a chair, every time you type on a computer, every time you put in your contacts -- every second of every day, your actions betray your words."
The Christian was silent, red-faced among the debris of his chair.
"Let me ask you something Phil," Patricia said quietly. "Do you really think you had scored a big one against the atheists? Do you really think you know more than we do? Your effort was valiant, but it was dead in the water thousands of years before either of us were born.
"You have every right to believe in your deity, and I believe in freedom of religion as strongly as the next person. But when you try to excuse that belief in the name of reason and moral necessity, then you simply insult us, and you insult your own intelligence. You ruin any testimony you may have -- any credibility you have earned goes down the drain.
"The fact is, Phil, there is no God. And if you choose to believe that there is, you do not do so because of Truth, but in spite of Truth."
The class erupted in applause. Some stood, including Tom.
It was going to be a good day."