Yesterday, Mark D. Robert’s comment section exploded, and he wisely chose to remain above the fray, popping in every so often to remind people to be civil.
Why? Mark D. Roberts—I think I can call him my friend, Mark D. Roberts—has done something wonderfully gutsy. He debated Christopher Hitchens on Hugh Hewitt’s Townhall, and now he’s blogging a more thoughtful, less interrupted response.Â
I finished listening to the debate this morning while I rode my bike to work. (Life is good.) And here is my primary thought.
People commenting on Mark’s blog seem to think this debate is about Christopher Hitchens’ passion for truth and humanism. Of course, it wasn’t. Hitchens never took Mark seriously. In fact, he didn’t even seem to listen to him about half the time.
The debate, like the many debates Hitchen has engaged in recently, notably a debate with Rev. Al Sharpton (audio and transcript here), is part of a media blitz to promote his book. It’s really that simple. And it’s more or less working, depending on how much credit you give best-seller lists.
Some people on Mark’s blog are saying he lost the debate, but those people and Rev. Al Sharpton are missing the point. I don’t think Mark debated Hitchens in order to win a logical argument. Especially once it became clear that Hitchens had no intention of really listening to what Mark said. Hitchens is seeking to win debates and sell books, not explore the truth.
Which is why Mark D. Roberts’ behavior in the debate is so incredible. Rather than debate Hitchens, he simply does his best to love the man. It’s amazing. Both Mark and Hugh Hewitt listen. When Hitchens interrupts them over and over and over to ramble his diatribes and explain to himself why God is not great, both men turn the other cheek. They let him talk. Then they encourage him by explaining where his book is asking good questions, without relenting or conceding to its gross generalization that religion poisons everything.
If you have the stomach for an arrogant atheist, you can listen to the 90 commercial free version here: “The Great God Debate,” part 1. There are two more parts. If you want to download all three parts to your mp3 player, you have to register with Townhall and choose the Hugh Hewitt feed. (It’s a little hassle, but it’s free.)
So far, Mark has written three posts:
- Introduction: god is not Great by Christopher Hitchens: A Response, in which Mark references the mp3 files, gives an overview of the debate, lists the books referenced in the debate, and anticipates objections to his claim that Bart Ehrman is an atheist.
- Is Hitchens a Reliable Source of “Facts”?, in which Mark questions the reliability of Hitchen’s presentation of the facts of the gospel and the New Testament, then suggests the possibility that all of the book’s facts could be similarly unreliable. Also, the comments section on this post goes absolutely haywire.
- Hitchens Mistaken about a Date, a Name, and the Gospels, in which Mark begins to list very specific facts and arguments that are simply not accurate reflections of Christianity and New Testament scholarship.
6 comments ↓
God is not great? Who can look at the face of a child, or even a violet, and say this?
(But thanks for telling us about the debate, for those who feel like participating.)
Marcus, thanks, not only for your giving me the benefit of the doubt, but for understanding what I was really doing in that “so-called” debate. I would have loved to have had a true conversation, or even debate, with Hitchens. But, as you say, he seemed unwilling to do this sort of thing. It’s too bad, really, because I think we could have had a valuable conversation. In the end, I wanted to be as clear and gracious as I could be. I kept wondering how Jesus would handle Himself in such a setting. I’m sure He would have done much better than I! But I was at least trying.
Mark, you are a brave man. That’s all I can say because anything else would turn into a diatribe against Hitchens’ hypocritical self-declared objectivity. Thanks for dropping by here–and I look forward to seeing you next week!
L.L., I’m with you that God’s greatness seems self-evident. But I have the sensibilities of a poet, not a scientist. I mean, I love to run tests and analyze numbers, but I have no trouble believing that the world is much much larger than the sum of its parts.
And God is much much larger than the world.
I guess I’ll speak for the doubters, or rather AS a doubter, though I would not call myself an atheist by any stretch of the imagination. The label is ultimately irrelevant, I think, for agnostics or deists or “freethinkers” or otherwise irreligious peoples because I think religion’s absence has little significance for their lives, but the term atheist is used by those who proudly wear this badge to be deliberately inflammatory.
I have not read much of Hitchens or similar figures (Dawkins, for one, seems like a dick), but they are taking such hardline stances as a reaction to the same spirit found in much of the evangelical crowd that has forced its brand of Christianity (which typically has little to do with Jesus’ actual words, instead relying on whatever bigoted passages of the Bible they can find and white American traditionalism — I mean, would Jesus be a capitalist? materialist (big ‘M’ and little ‘m’ both?) upon American politics. Because scientists (and people who like science) have had their work put into question by people who either don’t know how it works or choose not to know, there has been a bit of resentment and bitterness on their part because decades of scientific achievement are viewed as an affront to the almighty. I mean, I’d be frustrated as a physicist (as my cousin’s husband is) or an anthropologist to have reasoned, scientific explanations for the birth of the universe or the evolution of humankind deemed to be on par with the Genesis creation myth as a matter of historical and scientific fact! Is it unfair that all of Christendom and religion are under fire by these figures? A little, but there hasn’t exactly been as vocal a Christian response to the Young Earth Christians, and it’s no wonder, because half the country believes in the Genesis creation myth in the first place.
As for the question, “Is God great?” Well, I guess if I think of kittens and flowers or something insipid like that (not to pick on you, L.L.) then I think, yeah, there’s some beauty in this world. But on the whole, if I am to credit God for all that is neat and fluffy and fun and life-affirming, I must also credit God with all that is awful and putrid and abominable and horrifying. I think it’s a bit easy to marvel at the pleasant banalities of everyday life in the context of a post-scarcity society, only to ignore or perhaps put aside the tragedy of worldwide hunger, genocide, et al. I mean, I don’t want to play Debbie Downer here, but if were to take a look at the course of human history, I think I would trade away pretty sunsets if it meant kids weren’t crying themselves to sleep because their daddies touched them weird or if it meant nobody got shot because they were wearing glasses.
I hope I am not trivializing the question or appearing combative. I’m not necessarily playing devil’s advocate here because I am normally a fairly grateful and happy person, but it only seems proper to take the extent of human misery into account if we are to examine the greatness (or lack thereof) of a deity. Because if there is a God that is deliberately responsible for this, I’d sooner wager that God really, really hates us, on the whole. This is why I prefer to think of God as “merely” the process responsible for creation, completely unaware of our existence.
I’d agree with you that a probable God is larger than the sum of its parts, so I guess it seems petty or self-centered to focus simply on human or earthly concerns. But, I mean, these have to count for something, right?
“I’m not necessarily playing devil’s advocate here, THOUGH I am normally a fairly grateful and happy person…”
Mr. Chesnutt, it’s always good to hear from you! I’m not sure why the existence of evil has never been a problem for my belief in God. I suppose I just credit all of the evil in the world to the mistakes we’ve made with our free will.
Which raises the theological question of why God would create people capable of torturing each other and poisoning his creation. The traditional Christian answer is that our worship only has meaning if we can choose not to worship. And choosing not to worship God means we worship something else–with disasterous results. I have to admit that this answer seems trite when I hear my mother talk about the abuse she experienced as a young child.
One thing is certain: “Our earthly concerns… have to count for something, right?” Ultimately, Chesnut, they are all we have to go on.
I believe in something beyond earth, but I have no evidence outside my own senses or the brain of my flesh.
We agree on another important point, too. One major goal of our lives should be to love others.
I would just add that we should also love God.