I do not think that sufficient evidence is a necessary condition for belief in something. It is difficult to define what “sufficient evidence” amounts to—what satisfies this condition for one person may fall short for another, and the type and amount of evidence that justifies a certain belief for one individual can evolve over time. For example, when I was younger, my beliefs were similar to those held by people like my father to this day: stories told in the bible combined with a lack of any “better” explanation justified our belief that God both exists and has created the world. However, when I was in high school I also believed that evolution was a lie created by the Devil to take credit away from God, and the only evidence I needed to back that up was the unfounded word of authority figures. As is common for beliefs, those two in particular have changed as I have acquired age and knowledge. My former disbelief in evolution has completely changed: the words of others serving as acceptable evidence against the principle have been replaced by theories grounded in science that support it. Similarly, I no longer consider biblical stories sufficient evidence for God’s existence; however, this has not caused me to revoke my belief in God. 

I believe in God despite lacking what I consider sufficient evidence that my belief is true. Of course, I do not feel as though I have no evidence to go off of: I have heard reports of alleged miracles, I am not aware of what I would deem a “better” suspect for the creation of the universe, and I have experienced “feeling God’s presence.” Nonetheless, I would not consider these fragments sufficient to prove God’s existence. To be honest, I am not completely sure why I still believe. It is not as though I have no reasons not to; as a member of the queer community, I often find myself jealous of those raised without religion, many of whom have not experienced the external and internal hate I have been subjected to in the name of God. For the time being, my reason for believing is essentially that I have none. I have no reason to believe in God, I believe anyway, and nothing exceptionally terrible has come of that. My belief or lack thereof does not substantially influence the way I live my life; my treatment of others would not be any different if I did not believe in God. Because I am not hurting anyone else, I do not think I need sufficient evidence to justify my belief—it does not seem to me as though a choice that affects only oneself is a matter of morality. There is a very real possibility that, in holding these beliefs, I could be hurting myself. If this is the case, I am willing and able to take that risk. However, there are undoubtedly several instances in which one’s religious belief has a direct negative impact on others. In these situations, I think it is reasonable to require that such a belief be founded on evidence. 

While each of the three views has its merits and downfalls, Critical Rationalism seems the most reasonable to me; it serves as a sort of middle ground between the other two. Reasoning, in my opinion, can permissibly play a part in justifying one’s faith—in fact, I would argue that it should. However, I would not go so far as to say all faith must be provable by sufficient evidence, as what meets this criteria will differ from person to person, and there is not one school of faith adhered to by everyone. 

Fideists argue that a lack of supporting evidence is what makes something faith rather than mere belief. There does seem to be an aspect of religious faith that sets it apart from things we believe because of supporting evidence; unfortunately, this leads to the view that it is wrong to subject fundamental religious beliefs to rational evaluation. If this is our standard, all beliefs are grounded to the same degree—not at all—and we are left with no way to settle disputes between or within faith traditions. In any situation outside of religion, forming a belief with absolutely no evidence would be frowned upon. Strong Rationalism upholds the opposite perspective: a belief is only rational if it can be shown in a way that should convince all rational people. On this view, for those who believe in God, such belief should be contingent on the presence of sufficient evidence in the world. This also falls prey to several objections—for example, it fails to meet the standard itself, as there is no “sufficient evidence” that this principle is the correct one to follow. 

The most appealing way of reconciling faith and reason is Critical Rationalism, according to which our beliefs should be rationally evaluated, though conclusive proof of theism is impossible. Ignoring reasoning can lead to significant errors in understanding God, therefore it is better to accept what guidance it can give. That being said, limits do exist—every argument is derived from a particular worldview and starting points an individual already accepts, and as these are not universal, conclusive proof is not possible. However, even if we cannot settle the issue, we can make progress toward a solution. Over time, scientific theories become better and better approximations of how the world operates; the same may be true for religious theories. 

If I am afraid my faith will not survive rational evaluation, I am led to wonder whether that must be because it is not rational, which concerns me as I am not a Fideist. On the other hand, I cannot point to sufficient evidence that would convince any rational person to support my faith, and yet I still hold it, which would be impermissible if I were a Strong Rationalist. The more I have witnessed my faith hold through reason-based questioning, the stronger it has become; at the same time, the fact that I may never identify sufficient evidence to support it gives it a certain quality that sets it apart from ordinary beliefs, as though I have to make more of a conscious effort to choose it. This combination has allowed me to turn my faith from simply what I was told into something that is actually mine; in a sense, I am earning it for myself. 

I do not believe any one of Howard-Snyder’s proposed theodicies can provide a satisfactory justification for the Problem of Evil and its compatibility with Theism. The free will theodicy suggests that evil is the result of the sinful choices of free beings, and thus cannot explain natural evils such as floods and hurricanes. The natural consequences theodicy holds that natural evil is the result of human separation from God, but fails to account for the evils that befall non-human animals, who have neither turned away from God nor are being pulled back to God. Natural law theodicy is based on the idea that the laws of nature are necessary for free acts to occur, as the possible effects of our actions should be evident when we decide how we will proceed; natural evil is merely a side effect that we would be willing to endure in order to act freely. This theory is unsatisfactory because God could easily interfere with some natural evils, such as redirecting the path of a hurricane, or stalling a driver on the way to killing someone—things that any loving being would hardly be justified in refraining from. 

Of the theodicies offered by Howard-Snyder, I am most partial to the knowledge theodicy, according to which we cannot know what good is unless there is evil with which to contrast it. Without the ability to differentiate between what is good and what is bad, we would likely end up spoiled and incapable of spiritual maturity, self absorbed as a result of never understanding what it is like to fight for something. We would never realize how good our situation is without knowledge of what the alternative could be; not only recognizing but also having experienced that somber alternative provides us with a justification of gratitude for the fact that we are better off than we otherwise could be. 

Howard-Snyder argues that this theory does not satisfy the criteria for justifying our belief in God’s existence. It does not justify all kinds of evil, nor does it explain the amount of evil in the world. Additionally, God could have known what constitutes goodness prior to the creation of evil, so why can this knowledge not be transferred to humans? All of these arguments provide convincing reasons as to why the knowledge theodicy cannot justify our belief in God. However, this does not mean the theory fails to justify God’s existence in and of itself. Despite these drawbacks, I believe this theodicy has merit. One example in particular comes to mind that might support it.

I know someone who has recently come to terms with being transgender. Before this, they had thought it was normal to view life as a relatively unimportant journey to an inevitable death—or whatever comes after. It was not until they started transitioning that they actually started living. Things almost everyone takes for granted—pronouns, personality, understanding and loving oneself—suddenly became some of the most valuable things in the world to them; this is commonly referred to among the trans community as gender euphoria. Some of the happiest moments of this person’s life have come from situations that seem normal to most, and this was because they knew what it was like to go without them. This is why I see the potential of the knowledge theodicy: experiencing and overcoming evil makes the good things all the more meaningful. 

Along with the problem of evil and the argument from simplicity, the argument from divine hiddenness is one of the strongest challenges to the rationality of theism. This argument holds that if God exists there would be no inculpable nonbelief; since there is inculpable nonbelief in our world, God does not exist. According to Howard-Snyder, inculpable nonbelief involves failing to believe something due to a lack of sufficient evidence, as one’s belief tends to track their evidential situation. A person whose failure to believe is inculpable may have a strong desire to believe, but the evidence just doesn’t support it, and they cannot simply will themself to believe an unsubstantiated claim. This person is not blameworthy for their inability to believe—failing to believe something because even conscientious searching and careful consideration cannot ground it is considered a good epistemic practice. They would only be culpable if evidence was present and they ignored it. 

The problem of divine hiddenness suggests that if an unsurpassably great God exists, They would be loving, and thus would want to be in a close, personal relationship with humans. The possibility of such a relationship is contingent on the person being able to relate to God, which requires they believe God exists. So, if God is loving, God would want everyone to believe in God’s existence. However, it is obviously the case that some people fail to believe in God; for some, this is due to a lack of sufficient evidence in support of such a belief. Some simply don’t look—this is not necessarily the fault of God. However, there are others who do look for evidence, and think hard about the question, even want to believe, but fail nevertheless. This is cause for concern. 

In order to avoid the concept of divine hiddenness posing a problem for theism, a theist might respond by saying that God’s being unsurpassably great does not imply They are loving. However, this seems unsatisfactory. If such a God is not loving, this would indeed eliminate the need to form a close relationship with humans, and in turn would no longer require humans to believe God exists. On the other hand, if this is the true nature of God, this Being seems more like a puppet master than a caring Creator; if God is really like this, we can’t really be expected to care whether They exist in the first place, much less alter our beliefs and lives to accommodate this existence. Another argument against the problem of divine hiddenness claims that there is sufficient evidence for everyone to believe, so inculpable nonbelief is not actually present in our world; people fail to believe due to willful sinfulness, or they are swayed by ridicule or authority. This argument fails to explain the very real cases of those who do genuinely pursue evidence but fail to find it. A third attempt to preserve theism could suggest that evidence is unnecessary and we should accept God’s existence as faith, as do Fideists. This may be sufficient for some people to believe in God, but it still suggests that there is insufficient evidence for God’s existence—in fact, Fideism holds that there is no evidence, as that is the reason faith in God is considered faith rather than mere belief. 

All of these objections are worth considering, but none explain the case of the people who want to believe but cannot. It is not possible for a person to believe something simply because they want to, and the inculpable nonbelief that results from this is certainly not their own fault. They could attempt to accept God’s existence without belief, but most rational people will not be satisfied with serving a God they do not actually believe exists. Finally, those who do not think God has to be loving believe in an indifferent, impersonal God, which defeats the purpose of establishing a relationship with God—so what reason is left to believe in God at all?

When considering whether religion is necessary to morality, it will prove beneficial to first establish where such morality stems from. According to the view of cultural relativism, the truth of a moral claim is not absolute or universal, but relative to the traditions, convictions, or practices of a group of people. This view seems plausible given the persistence of moral disagreements, as well as differences between cultures. However, it gives rise to several problems, among these the implication that cultures are infallible and cannot be criticized from the outside, as well as the ramification that moral progress is impossible. An alternative view is subjective relativism, according to which the truth of a moral claim is dependent upon the thoughts or feelings of the person who makes it. This is problematic in that it implies our moral judgements are infallible, and thus there can be no moral disagreements. Finally, the view known as objectivism holds that the truth or falsity of a moral claim is determined by some objective feature that holds independently and universally. This is the only view that renders morality intelligible, supporting the idea that moral obligations apply to everyone, everywhere, at every time, and that morality is accessible to all people. 

From an objectivist standpoint, the question arises of whether an objective morality depends on the existence of or belief in God. The common theistic perspective is that an action is right if and only if it is commanded by God. This gives rise to the Euthyphro Dilemma, which asks whether (1) an action is right simply because God commands it or (2) God commands an action because it is right. A major issue faced by the first conception is the arbitrariness problem: God could command anything and make it right, including heinous actions—more on that later. The second interpretation runs into the omnipotence problem, which suggests that there are some things God could not command, as even God is bound by morality. Neither constitutes a perfect solution, but if this theistic perspective is true, it seems reasonable to choose whichever interpretation has more favorable consequences. Thesis 1 implies that God could command any action and it would be morally right simply because of such a commandment; this is arguably more problematic than the implication of Thesis 2 that there is some objective morality with which God acts in accordance. 

It does not seem too difficult to conceive of an objective morality that exists apart from God. There are plenty of non-religious individuals who possess a fine-tuned moral compass. It has even been shown that animals and young children demonstrate a desire to help others—whether or not this is an expression of morality is another question altogether. On the other hand, many people who claim to believe in God are highly immoral, doing things any rational person can see are problematic and damaging—even using religion to justify such horrifying actions. An obvious instance of this is when, in the Bible, God commands murder; in none of these situations is such killing justifiable by anything besides orders from God. More modern examples include the use of the Bible to justify slavery, deny women’s rights, and even excuse sexual assault. One of the most distressing ways this biblical immorality plays out is through the oppression of LGBTQ+ people. A 2015 study found that, for LGBTQ+ individuals ages 18-24, the religous beliefs of their parents regarding homosexuality were associated with a doubled risk of attempting suicide (Gibbs & Goldbach, 2015). Anyone who believes treating human beings in such a way that makes death seem preferable has a seriously questionable moral compass. From these examples, it does not seem as though a robust morality is dependent on a religious worldview—if anything, belief in God has been shown to justify immorality in far more significant ways than the reverse. 

Several moral theories were discussed in class, each with its own set of benefits and drawbacks. Normative Relativism holds that the truth of a moral claim is not absolute or universal but relative to a culture or person. Emotivism, on the other hand, denies that moral claims can be true or false at all; it views them as expressing feelings or attitudes rather than assertions. Divine Command Theory and Natural Law Theory are objectivist views, meaning they are based on the idea that the truth of a moral claim is determined by some objective feature that holds independently and universally. The former view claims that an action is right if and only if and simply because God commands it; proponents of the latter argue that morality does not depend on God, but on moral truths partially determined by human nature. 

Several problems arise from relativist views, both cultural and subjective. Firstly, they imply that moral judgements, be they culture-based or personal, are infallible. They also suggest that we cannot criticize other people or cultures, so there can be no moral disagreements and thus moral progress is impossible. Emotivism allows moral claims to reveal certain characteristics about those who hold them, but fall short when it comes to determining whether such claims should prescribe any particular actions. 

Objectivism is thus the only view discussed in class that renders morality intelligible and universally accessible, applying moral obligations to everyone, everywhere, at every time. However, there are several reasonable arguments against Divine Command Theory that make it less favorable than the alternative objectivist view. The theory makes moral claims solely reliant on special revelation, and therefore easily fabricated, permissibly irrational, and impossible to justify to non-theists. Additionally, Divine Command Theory makes it difficult to determine the content of morality. This is because of the persistent disagreements about what God commands, a lack of any mechanism for settling such disputes, and the fact that we commonly disregard some commands that we now believe to be unreasonable. Perhaps the largest problem for the view is that it allows any heinous action to be considered moral because of no other reason than God’s command; this in turn permits God and the bible to be used as justification for actions that, to any reasonable person, would be obviously immoral. 

Of all of the aforementioned moral theories, Natural Law Theory seems the most plausible. According to this view, there exist objective moral truths that are necessary for creatures like us, determined by our function as humans—what we are created to do. Things that are good for us are those that enable us to flourish; how we can flourish as humans is determined by our nature. These truths are not arbitrary: an action is right if it contributes to human flourishing and wrong if it does not. Because of this, some such truths are knowable to every ordinary person, thereby avoiding the problems that arise from reliance on special revelation alone. God knows what contributes to human flourishing, as God determines our nature; it is in this way that moral facts can plausibly depend on God while simultaneously gaining their justification from sources beyond God’s mere command. This view avoids the major criticisms of Divine Command Theory, making it easier to determine the content of morality. It does raise questions of whether it poses a challenge to God’s omnipotence, as it can be seen as claiming God is bound by morality; however, even if this is the case, such a consequence is less detrimental than those that arise from any other view.