Transcription
He asked people to use their moral judgment on what he did. Was it good, or was it not? In other words, his whole attitude to them presupposed that they had got moral concepts that they could use.
If God does not exist, everything is permissible. He did not mean that atheists were incapable of behaving morally. What he did mean, though, was this, that there's no rationale, there's no rational justification for morality.
Dr. Lennox, you stated that um morality is derived from the Bible. Um where do you believe that atheists get their morality, and do you even think that they have morality?
I didn't say morality is derived from the Bible. What I said was that every human being, whether they believe in God or not, is a moral being made in the image of God. And so therefore, atheists like Christians and anybody else and people of any faith or none all have moral concepts. And this is enormously important because research that's been done and Lewis in in a book that everybody ought to read that was written in 1940 called *The Abolition of Man*. In the appendix to it, he points out that all around the world, if you look at different tribes and nations and philosophies, pagan religion, all sorts, you'll find a common core of morality: respect for the elderly, uh truth, don't murder, and so on. You'll find variations—how many wives you can have, etc.—but there's a core of morality around the place. Now, that's exactly what I'd expect to find, and this is the point that Lewis makes. If there is a God who has given each of us a moral compass. Now the Bible refineses that and sharpens it, but it doesn't first appear there. And it's very important that nobody goes away with the impression that I'm saying that atheists cannot behave. Indeed, you will discover even reading the Bible that sometimes pagans put to shame people who claim to know God. That's because we've got this moral compass. So that's enormously important. We've got that moral ability to judge. And indeed, Jesus, when he made his appeal to the world, He asked people to use their moral judgment on what he did. Was it good or was it not? In other words, his whole attitude to them presupposed that they had got moral concepts that they could use.
What a clarity. Morality is not solely derived from the Bible as many might assume. Lennox highlights a profound Christian truth. All humans, whether they acknowledge God or not, possess an inherent moral compass because they are created in the image of God. This is an important distinction. This is about humanity itself. Each person, regardless of belief, has the capacity for moral reasoning. Lennox is asserting that atheists, just like religious individuals, can indeed engage in moral behavior, but their actions are rooted in something more fundamental than mere social constructs. They are the result of a deeper divine imprint. This brings us to a significant point in Christian doctrine: that all people are created with a moral understanding. The Bible refineses this teaching, the fullness of God's law, but the moral compass exists even without explicit religious knowledge. This concept aligns perfectly with the idea presented by C.S. Lewis in *The Abolition of Man*, where he argues that across cultures a common core of moral principles exists. These include respect for elders, honesty, and the prohibition of murder. It's no coincidence that these moral values resonate universally. If there is a god, a creator who designed humanity, then it makes sense that humans across time and geography would share similar ethical intuitions. This universal moral law, as Lennox argues, is a clear sign of God's design.
And I'll add another thing to that because this is a big topic actually. Dostoevsky famously said—which means—if God does not exist, everything is permissible. He did not mean that atheists were incapable of behaving morally. What he did mean, though, was this: that there's no rationale, there's no rational justification for morality if God does not exist. Now that's such a big statement. I have hinted at it through this evening and I've written about it in *Gunning for God*. But it's a very important thing because what I was arguing with Dawkins is precisely this: that if you follow naturalism to its logical consequences, you end up without the concepts of morality. And one of the big questions in our civilization—and it's so obvious—is that if you dismiss a transcendent God, you've got to find an alternative source for morality. So where are you going to find it? You're going to find it down here in here, so to speak. So you're going to either find it in raw biology and genetics or in the social dimension. And I might just make a very provocative statement right now and say that has led to massive moral confusion because depending on what animal species you choose, you can base any morality on it you like. And that's the problem. Darwin was a kindly old man with a beard, and he saw ants cooperating and he said there's a basis for altruism. Spencer saw nature red in tooth and claw and talked about the survival of the fittest, and people have applied both of those systems in morality, as you know. So ladies and gentlemen, here's a challenge coming out of this question: What is the base for your ethical standards? Where does morality come from? This is a major question that I would address, of course, by referring back true by Christian faith that gives the rational justification. It doesn't give the pure source of morality because morality is built into us at that basic level by God himself.
Lennox doesn't stop there. He goes deeper into the implications of atheism and morality by referencing Fyodor Dostoevsky's famous statement, "If God does not exist, everything is permissible." It's essential to understand what this really means. Lennox makes it clear Dostoevsky wasn't claiming that atheists are incapable of behaving morally. Instead, he was highlighting a crucial point: that without a God who defines right and wrong, there is no rational basis for morality. In a world without God, morality becomes subjective and arbitrary. It becomes something humans decide for themselves without any objective standard to appeal to. This is where Lennox challenges atheism on its logical consequences. If you remove a transcendent source for moral authority, where do you turn? Lennox presents the uncomfortable reality that many atheists rely on either biology or social constructs as the foundation for moral behavior. But both of these are deeply flawed when examined closely. When morality is based on biology, we end up with contradictory frameworks. For instance, Darwin's ideas on altruism based on cooperation within species stand in stark contrast to the harsh survival of the fittest mentality that Darwin also acknowledged. This divergence creates confusion as people choose whichever biological model aligns with their personal beliefs or political agendas. This moral confusion is only amplified when we consider social constructivism, where morality is seen as simply the product of cultural norms and societal agreements. But if moral standards are simply the result of social agreement, they become relative and subject to change. Lennox's challenge here is both practical and philosophical. How can a society justify the moral duty to protect the rights of all people if morality is just a cultural artifact? If there is no objective standard, then who decides what is right and wrong? Christianity offers an answer. God, as the ultimate moral lawgiver, provides the necessary foundation for any moral framework that claims to be objective. Lennox emphasizes that while the Bible refineses and sharpens our understanding of morality, the very existence of moral intuition within all humans points to a creator. This is the crux of the Christian argument. Morality is not an invention of human society, nor is it simply a consequence of evolution. It's a reflection of the creator's will embedded within the very fabric of human nature. And when we examine moral law, we see something deeply personal: God's moral will revealed in the hearts of his creation.
I believe in a God who holds the heavens and the earth in existence. I believe that on the basis of rational evidence. And as we look at the rise of science in the 16th and 17th centuries, Alfred North Whitehead and many others commented that men became scientific because they expected law in nature, and they expected law in nature because they believed in a lawgiver. So ladies and gentlemen, I'm not ashamed of being both a scientist and a Christian because arguably Christianity gave me my subject. What I am amazed at is that serious thinkers today continue to ask us to choose between God and science. That's like asking people to choose between Henry Ford and engineering as an explanation of the motor car. So good. When Newton discovered his law of gravity, he didn't say, "I've got a law; I don't need God." No, he wrote the *Principia Mathematica*, arguably the greatest work in the whole history of science, because he saw that God is not the same kind of explanation as a scientific explanation. God doesn't compete. Agency does not compete with mechanism and law. Why is there something rather than nothing? Alan Sandage, a brilliant cosmologist who became a Christian in his 50s, said God is the answer to that question. But people are now so desperate to show that the universe created itself from nothing, which seems to me to be an immediate oxymoron. If I say X created Y, I'm assuming the existence of X to explain the existence of Y. If I say X created X, I'm assuming the existence of X to explain the existence of X, which simply shows that nonsense remains nonsense even of high-powered scientists. Reminds me a little bit of G.K. Chesterton, who said it is absurd to complain that it is unthinkable for an unthinkable God to make everything out of nothing and then to pretend that it is more thinkable that nothing should turn itself into everything. The heavens declare the glory of God, says the ancient psalm. And we've unraveled a bit of that, seeing the fine-tuning of the fundamental forces of nature. It's something that's so striking to scientists that it demands explanation. And it seems to me that Arno Penzias hit it right. He is the Nobel Prize winner who discovered the microwave background on which a lot of the evidence for the big bang is based. He said, "Astronomy leads us to a unique event, a universe which was created out of nothing, one with the very delicate balance needed to provide exactly the right conditions required to permit life, and one which has an underlying, one might say supernatural plan." But I want to come to what I think is one of the fundamental arguments for theism. I take it this house believes in reason. That's why we're all here. And as a scientist, I believe that the universe is rationally intelligible. Wow.
Lennox's reasoning is razor-sharp and compelling. Let's break it down. First, his connection between the rise of science and belief in a lawgiver is profound. Historically, pioneers like Newton weren't just scientists; they were believers. The idea of a rational universe governed by consistent laws makes sense only if a rational mind set it all in motion. Isn't it fascinating that Christianity wasn't just compatible with science, but actually fueled its development? Then Lennox dismantles the absurdity of the universe creating itself. X creating X—spot on—self-creation is logically incoherent. His reference to Allan Sandage, a top-tier cosmologist, reinforces this. Even brilliant minds see God as the ultimate explanation for existence. And that G.K. Chesterton quote—genius—it's far less unthinkable for a creator to bring forth everything than for nothing to do the job. Add in the staggering fine-tuning of the universe, and it's clear the heavens really do declare the glory of God. That is something that has struck some of the geniuses of science as demanding an explanation. Einstein said, "The only incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it's comprehensible." And Wigner talked about the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics. How is it that a mathematician thinking in her head, in here, can come up with equations that seem to fit the universe out there? Well, how is it indeed? Because the irony of the atheist position here is evident. My atheist friends, and I have many of them, tell me that the driving force of evolution, which eventually produced our human cognitive faculties, reason included, was not primarily concerned with truth at all, but with survival. And we all know, ladies and gentlemen, what has often happened and still happens to truth when individuals or commercial enterprises or nations feel themselves threatened and struggle for survival. The leading philosopher Alvin Plantinga says, if atheists are right that we are the product of mindless unguided natural processes, then they have given us strong reason to doubt the reliability of human cognitive faculties and therefore inevitably to doubt the validity of any belief that they produce, including their atheism. Their biology and their belief in naturalism would therefore appear to be at war with each other in a conflict that is nothing at all to do with God. Yet my atheist friends still insist that it is rational for them to believe that the evolution of human reason was not directed for the purpose of discovering truth. And yet it is irrational for me to believe that human reason was designed and created by God to enable us to understand and believe the truth. Curious logic.
By contrast with that, biblical theism asserts that ultimate reality is personal and intelligent. The reason science works—and this was the motivating force that drove the great pioneers of science—is that the universe out there and the human mind in here that does the science are ultimately the product of the same intelligent divine mind. Human beings are made, we are told, in God's image, and that means that science can be done. That makes infinitely more sense to me as a scientist than atheism does. Now let me come briefly to ethics. Ethical behavior, like rational behavior, of course, does not itself require religious belief. This is consistent with the fact that humans are created in God's image as rational moral persons. But just as I suggest that rationality cannot be explained without the existence of God, so I dare to suggest that the existence of morality cannot be explained either. As modern science sprang from Judeo-Christian sources, so did the concept of human equality. Listen to atheist Jürgen Habermas, arguably one of Germany's leading intellectuals. He said that universalistic egalitarianism, from which sprang the ideals of freedom and a collective life and solidarity, the individual morality of conscience, human rights, and democracy, is the direct legacy of the Judaic ethic of justice and the Christian ethic of love. This legacy, substantially unchanged, has been the object of continual critical appropriation, reinterpretation. To this day, there's no alternative to it. Everything else is just idle postmodern talk. And it seems to me he's hitting the core of something important because the value of a human being on which such egalitarianism rests is based not on what the human being can do but what she's made of or how she's made in God's image. I never forget speaking one on one, on my many visits to Russia, to a colleague in the Academy of Sciences, and he said, "You know, John, we thought we could abolish God and retain a value for human beings. We found we couldn't, and we murdered millions of them." And Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn has said, if I'm asked why is it that 60 million of my fellow countrymen were sacrificed, he said the answer is we have forgotten God.
Incredible points from Lennox again. His argument about the universe's rational intelligibility hits deep. Einstein's amazement at the universe's comprehensibility and Wigner's awe at the effectiveness of mathematics both cry out for explanation. How can a mindless unguided process produce reasoning beings capable of understanding the universe? It just doesn't add up without a designer. Plantinga's point is devastating. If atheistic naturalism is true, we have no reason to trust our cognitive faculties. If evolution only aimed at survival, not truth, why believe in any of our conclusions, including atheism? This internal inconsistency is profound, leaving theism as the more coherent explanation. And the idea that humans are made in God's image grounds not only rationality but also morality. Lennox's citation of Jürgen Habermas clinches it. Our concepts of human rights, equality, and democracy have undeniable Judeo-Christian roots. Without this foundation, moral claims risk becoming subjective postmodern talk. Lennox's logic is airtight. Theism offers a cohesive framework for reason, science, and ethics.
Science, of course, marvelous as it is, is limited. Even a Nobel Prize winner, by analyzing a cake, cannot tell you why it was made. But Aunt Matilda, who made it, can tell you. She can reveal it to you, but if she doesn't reveal it to you, you'll never know. And that brings me to my next evidence. It's the same with the universe. We can analyze it magnificently, but ultimately, if it has a maker—and I believe it has—only he can tell us what it's all about. And he's done so in the powerful narrative of the Bible. In particular, in its analysis of the problem with humanity, not simply in terms of behavioral breakdown between people, but a vertical breakdown of trust between us and the creator. The unique solution to that problem is not simply in terms of human ethical development, although that's very important, but in terms of something far deeper altogether: the restoration of the fractured relationship with God through the salvation he has brought through Jesus Christ. A radical relationship that empowers us to live ethically from God. And here we reach what, for me, is the chief evidence not only for the existence but the nature of God. It is Jesus Christ. He it was who not only taught the Golden Rule but embodied it: fed the hungry, healed the sick and suffering, and welcomed society's outcasts, brought honor and respect to the marginalized and ashamed, and he's brought forgiveness and peace to multi-millions around the world. He's able to do this, of course, because though he was a man, he uniquely never was only a man, but God become human. The central evidence for this startling claim is, of course, his historical resurrection from the dead that launched Christianity in the world. This is, of course, ladies and gentlemen, a crunch issue. If Jesus rose from the dead, death is not the end, and atheism is false. If Jesus did not rise from the dead, Christianity is false. And I remember at Cambridge as a student, listening to the brilliant Sir Norman Anderson, a legal expert, going through forensically the evidence from his legal perspective as a brilliant lawyer, and he said at the end of it, the empty tomb then of Jesus forms a veritable rock on which all rationalistic theories of the resurrection dash themselves in vain. Just finally now, as I read the Bible, I do not only find intellectual satisfaction, but I find a great deal of that. I sense the voice of God speaking to me. You see, that's intensely personal. But ladies and gentlemen, we've been asked tonight about belief in God. And I want to strongly emphasize that God is not a theory; he's a person. And if the origination of me qua person is a personal God, then the most exciting thing really is, is there a possibility of getting to know God? And so I don't simply believe there is a God; I've come to know him and trust him. And I have strong reasons for doing so because of Christ dying and rising again for me. And that has generated in me a sense of utterly unmerited forgiveness, acceptance, and peace that has enabled me to face the ugly side of my own nature and, with God's help, to do something about it. But it's enabled me to face something else: the hardest problem I face as a Christian is the problem of evil and pain—my niece getting a tumor at 22 that kills her. What do I say to my sister? And this is the hardest problem we face. But it seems to me that atheism here has no answer because, by definition, atheism believes that human death is the end. So there is no ultimate hope.
This is such a powerful conclusion by Lennox. His story about Russia is chilling: a society that tried to abolish God and ended up dehumanizing millions. It's a stark reminder that without God, the foundation for human value crumbles. As Solzhenitsyn said, "We have forgotten God," and history shows the devastating consequences. Lennox's cake analogy is brilliant. Science can analyze the what and how, but it can't answer the why. Only the creator can reveal the universe's purpose, and he's done so through the Bible. The restoration of our relationship with God through Jesus is the heart of this purpose. Lennox paints Jesus not just as a moral teacher but as the embodiment of love, justice, and forgiveness. The resurrection is the clincher. If true, it's the ultimate proof of God's power and the falsity of atheism. Lennox's reference to legal expert Sir Norman Anderson highlights the robust evidence behind this central claim. And the personal transformation Lennox describes—peace, forgiveness, and strength to confront his flaws—is undeniable evidence of God's work in his life. Lennox doesn't just believe in God; he knows him. That's the kind of relationship that changes everything.
But you see, ladies and gentlemen, we could stay here till midnight and beyond arguing, as has been done in this university for centuries, what a good God should, might, would, could, if not, possibly might, just, could he not have done, and we'll get nowhere. So it seems to me there's another question we can ask, and it's this: Granted that life presents us with a double picture. We see some beautiful things; we see some ragged edges; we see hurt and pain; and we see joy. How can we come to terms with that? But it seems to me here is no simplistic answer but a window into an answer. And it's this: If it is actually true that Jesus is, as I believe him to be, the Son of God, then we can ask the question, what is God doing on a cross? And the answer comes back, at the very least, God has not remained distant from our human suffering but has become part of it. And the other side of that is this: because Jesus rose from the dead, he is going to be the ultimate judge. Now, here's an irony: because atheism has no ultimate hope of justice, by definition.
Lennox's vulnerability here is striking, and his approach to the problem of evil is deeply thoughtful. The tragedy of his niece's death highlights the raw pain we all face. But his contrast with atheism is powerful. If atheism is true, death is the end, and there's no ultimate hope or justice. That's a bleak, empty answer. Instead, Lennox points us to a profound truth: God on a cross. If Jesus is God, then he didn't stay distant from our suffering; he entered into it, bore it, and redeemed it. That's staggering. And the resurrection brings hope, not just for personal salvation but also for ultimate justice. Atheism, by definition, offers none of this. Billions die without ever seeing justice. But in Jesus, the promise of justice and restoration is guaranteed. The vast majority of people in the history of the world have died without justice and will die without justice. But if death is the end, then, of course, they have no hope of ultimate justice. But the promise in the New Testament, guaranteed by the resurrection of Jesus, is that he is to be the judge in the coming day. So ladies and gentlemen, those are some of the reasons why I believe that God is real and worthy to be trusted.
And if God's really good, powerful, and loving, why is the world the way that it is? Firstly, we would both say we have no idea. I would say that, at least you would say, I don't know. But I would start with C.S. Lewis's great argument as to you're smuggling in some type of moral obligation or moral standard where you're saying that this is really wrong to begin with. Well, if there is no God, nobody sets that standard of what evil is. Evil is a fully religious term. And that's why so many people in our secular society try not to use the word evil because they still see it as a religious term. So starting there with C.S. Lewis, then thirdly, after those two, I would go to Alvin Plantinga and his whole point on just because we can't see reasons for why would God would allow evil and suffering doesn't mean that he doesn't have reasons for it. And that's scripturally based as well. His thoughts are way above our thoughts, and we have to allow that space to be there. Next would be the cross of Christ. We have a suffering God who's not aloof and distant from our suffering. If we did, this question would get a lot tougher in my mind, as tough as it is, way tougher. But that we have a God who suffered in the most intense, immense kind of way and then promises to suffer with us in our sufferings is pretty amazing. And then lastly, I would go to look internally in the Bible. Look at some of the greatest characters who struggled with evil and suffering and how they dealt with it. And it was immensely human as well as connecting to God in the spiritual. And what I mean by immensely human, I always use these characters to help flesh out themes within counseling. Why, in Psalm 42 and 43, does David say three times, "Why are you downcast, oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my savior and my Lord?" He's constantly dealing with his own personal suffering of depression, anxiety, as well as, I'm sure, what his kids were going through, Absalom. And he's saying, "Hold on here."
Let me question why I'm feeling this way, why I'm thinking this way. Why am I dealing with suffering this way?" He recognizes that there's evil and suffering objectively. And he struggles and doubts God in Psalm 39, 88. Death is my only friend. God, get away from me. How long, oh Lord, in Psalm 13. And so, he's wrestling with it. And yet he relocates his joy and hope every single time ultimately to God and knowing that there is eternity out there.
See, so many of these university students want to act like it's just our time right here, right now. And if you look at that without eternity again, suffering becomes way more intense and a way bigger problem. But if in a million years from now you look back on how you suffered here, that is going to be kind of like if my three-year-old child who just fell and scraped her knee and has a couple band-aids on her knee. In 20 years from now when she looks back on that suffering, it's going to be a lot smaller, the pain and memory of it than it is right now.
I don't know why God allowed evil and suffering, but I do know that it's totally possible and reasonable for an all-powerful God to partially limit his power by creating us with a free will. So when God chooses to partially limit his power and give us a free will, he will respect our free will. He will allow our free will to run its course. And if I choose to haul back and smack you as hard as I can, God's not going to put plexiglass between my fist and your face instead. My fist will probably connect with your face, and then there will be pain and suffering, and God is not going to necessarily prevent it. But he will judge me for that one day.
And the bottom line for me on the problem of suffering is, what's your solution? An atheist has no solution for the problem of suffering because ultimately we're all going to die, and then we're all going to go to the fertilizer pit. I, as a follower of Jesus Christ, have a risen savior, a risen Lord Jesus Christ who promised eternal life in heaven where there will be no more suffering, no more evil, no more death, but eternal life. So come on, my atheist friend, let's go into the hospital where the baby lies, whose body is being shredded by some warped disease. Come, my atheist friend. What is your solution to this tragedy? Ultimately, you have none. And that is why despair is the logical conclusion for any honest atheist in the face of suffering and death. But I, as a follower of Christ, will walk the other side of the bed, and I too will seek to comfort that child. But in Jesus Christ, I have a suffering God who gives us the ultimate solution to this tragedy—this baby dying, this baby one day receiving a new body, growing into adulthood to spend eternity with God and with those who love God in heaven.
Brandon's question, "Why does a loving, powerful God allow suffering?" hits hard. Stuart starts with honesty: We don't know, but then unpacks some strong reasoning. C.S. Lewis's argument stands out. When we call something evil, we're relying on a moral standard. Without God, where does that standard come from? It's a sharp point. God is the source of our sense of right and wrong. Then Stuart mentions Alvin Plantinga's idea. Just because we don't see God's reasons doesn't mean they don't exist. It's a humble reminder of how small our perspective is. The most moving part is the cross of Christ. God himself suffered. That's huge. He isn't distant. He's with us in our pain.
Cliff's answer focuses on free will. God respects our choices even when they lead to suffering because without free will there's no real love. His example about punching someone makes this clear and relatable. Finally, Cliff challenges atheists. What's your solution to suffering? Without God, there's despair. But through Jesus, there's hope—a future without pain or evil. This isn't just about answers. It's about real eternal hope.
How I, I guess, just help me un—help me unpack this or help the person who's like, "I don't totally get it. Why does that three-year-old girl have to suffer for what those people did way back yonder? How is that fair? How is that just? How is God good and loving in light of that seemingly innocent little girl being confronted with this harsh law in life?" I think that's at the core of the question. So, I'm playing devil's advocate just to say, let's see if you know what I'm saying. How would you respond to something like that? It's not fair. It's not fair that a little kid be born with some gross birth defect. It's not fair. It's not just. But it is a result of Lucifer rebelling against God, human beings rebelling against God. Because basically when we rebel against God, we're saying, "God, get out of here." And when God vacates the premises, chaos erupts, and there's a breakdown in nature. There's a genetic breakdown. And so that little girl is born into a world where there is genetic breakdown. It's not that God is getting her or punishing her. She hasn't done anything wrong, for crying out loud. And it's not that God is necessarily punishing her parents. No, it's simply the fact that she is born into a cursed, unfair, messed-up world. Which is one of the main points, I think, of Job—the book of Job. The book of Job points out that Job's counselors got it wrong. Job was not suffering because of some sin he had committed, which was a prevalent view at that time. Instead, Job was suffering because life is unfair. But the reason that Job's faith did not cave in is because his faith was not based on the circumstances of life. His faith was based on the character of God—is fair and good. So life is unfair. God is fair. Don't get the two mixed up. And that's hard because when I suffer, it's too easy for me to blame God instead of to realize, "No, no, no, this is the unfairness of life."
So, does—does God have a solution to the problem of evil? And if yes, what is that? 'Cuz that's—that's another just following this—this train of thought forward. What is God's on atheism? We have—you have to face, like I said, it's harsh. It is what it is. And that's consistent. There is no ultimate meaning. There's no transcendence. Sometimes three-year-olds get cancer. It is what it is. Said the V. That's kind of—but it's—it's consistent. So help me see this loving God of the Bible. What is his solution to evil, basically, is the question. Judgment day. Mhm. I'll let you go with your points in a second. But that's all—that—that's it. Like that's the whole—you—I'm sure you, Brandy, you've heard about how much more or less so—the—the guy actually used to come to our church, he lives fairly far away now, but Muslav Wolf—um, at Yale—he's—he's considered one of the top theologians in the world and a great guy, and he was in the Balkans, a very war-torn country, and he did this study, and it was a lot largely based off of personal testimony as well, where if a country has a concept and a knowledge of a judgment day, there is typically way more peace in that country because it's not, "I have to get revenge right now on you because you killed my mother." Instead, it's, "I'm going to suspend that judgment for God. God will judge him one day, and I can work about hopefully eventually some type of forgiveness in my heart, but there will be that judgment day." So the cancer, yes, is a great enemy, and there's a lot of questions to it. But what I see even more is, "Why did my mom get beat up by my dad every single day of my childhood, and then he took off with another woman that did that?" Yeah, exactly. And so, you know, is there going to be some type of judgment for that? Because the cops never caught him, and now he's off with some other woman and got away with this. My—my mother's had many correctional surgeries. So if there's no judgment day, exactly like you said, a consistent atheist is just throw up your hands and say, "Well, too bad." And so what's—what then is going to be the motive and the impetus to actually get you to forgive? Why would you forgive? 'Cuz there's going to be no justice in the end. No. Go out and get justice yourself. Seek it and find it and get retribution. And we'll watch the world fall apart. That's good.
God has two solutions for the problem of suffering. The first solution is his people are to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit those who are sick and in prison, and use their talents, gifts, and abilities to make a difference in a messed-up world. In other words, when you have a vision of heaven, you're in a position to change this world so that it will be more like heaven. You have a goal. And then secondly, a second solution to the problem of suffering and evil and death is heaven. Heaven will be real. There will be a new heaven and a new earth when Jesus Christ returns a second time in power and great glory. And the problem of evil will be solved by a just, all-knowing, loving, compassionate God.
The question here is tough: Why does a little girl have to suffer in an unfair world? Cliff and Stuart tackle it with empathy and clarity. First, Cliff explains that suffering isn't about God punishing the innocent. It's the result of humanity and creation being broken after rebellion against God. When we push God out, chaos takes over. That girl's suffering isn't fair. It's the consequence of living in a world damaged by sin, not God targeting her. Stuart connects this to Job's story in the Bible. Job's suffering wasn't because he sinned, but because life is unfair. His faith endured because it was based on God's goodness, not life's circumstances. It's a reminder: life is unfair, but God is fair. When asked about a solution, they point to two things. First, judgment day, a promise that all evil and injustice will be dealt with. This isn't about revenge. It's about trusting God to bring justice so we don't have to carry the burden of vengeance. Second, heaven, a future where all pain is wiped away. And right now, God's solution is us: feeding the hungry, helping the hurting, and bringing hope. Their message is clear: Even in a broken world, God offers justice, healing, and a vision of eternity where suffering ends.
The chieftain of that dimension, the concept of God. So I want to begin by clarifying why it is that I believe there is no such entity or person. And I want to go on to say why I'm relieved when I reflect that this is so, why I think it would be horrible if it were true or otherwise. And I think I'd have to begin with a distinction between theism and deism. Even Thomas Aquinas's uh famous five proofs of the existence of God, for example, are—are strictly speaking hardly theological at all. They're essentially only theistic. They are about first causes or uncaused potential or latent causes. They derive the idea of a creator from various gaps and from observation of the rhythms and the patterns of nature and the cosmos. And they postulate that these rhythms and patterns would make no sense without the first cause. In short, they postulate nothing more than the argument from design, which, as you all know, is subject to a—a reputation that says, "Well, if there was a designer, then the designer must himself have been designed," and threatens those who offer the case with a—an infinite regression into a chaos. However, I—I would say it's not possible to refute this argument conclusively or—or utterly or finally. Uh, only one can point out, as I will, some gross absurdities and inconsistencies in it. But for this evening and for the purposes of tonight, why don't I simply grant that it could be true that there was an original creator and that that's a good and elegant explanation for how, at least, the cosmos and the process of life on Earth—two quite different things—got started. Why don't I just grant the deist his point? After all, in the time that I've written the most about—at the time of Thomas Jefferson and the time of Thomas Paine, both of those gentleman deists—an intelligent person would probably have had no choice but to believe something very like that. There's no superstition to it. There's no—there's nothing supernatural about it. But it leaves the theist—like my learned opponent—with all, if I make this concession, it leaves him with all his work still to come. He still has to show somehow not only that there is a God, that he—he himself understands the mind of that God, knows the will, can interpret the will and wishes of that deity on such weighty questions as what is good, what is evil, uh, what foods may be requisite or what foods may be profane, uh, what sexual partnerships are allowed, uh, what sexual positions indeed are elicit or legitimate, um, what days of the week are holy or otherwise, whe—when or whether it is requisite to mutilate the genitals of children. Major questions where someone has to say, "Yes, I know we must do this because I happen to know what God wants us to do." Now it's my submission, ladies and gentlemen—I think it's a fairly modest one—that brilliant as a mathematician Dr. Lennox may be, no person, no other human being, no other primate, no fellow mammal of mine, however clever they may be, is in any position to say that they know God's will or God's word or God's desire or intention. This information is not accessible to human beings. And therefore, my first statement is this: Those who do claim that they know are already in a sense discredited. Uh, they're deluded. And in a sense they—they—they're the first ones who have to concede that the argument goes on without them because we have to be awed all of us more and more—all the time—more and more awed at that as we discover how much more there is to know by how little of it we do know or can know. It's only those who say that they know—they are certain—who we have to distrust a priori, if I can use that expression very well.
Hoping I've established that point just for the sake of the debate. Uh, we don't have a word atheist, though I think we should. I would say I was an atheist as well as an atheist. I don't believe there was a prime mover. I don't believe there was a first cause of a divine kind. I think we have better and further and brighter explanations for the origins of things than the idea of a supernatural first cause. And some also would say we don't even really need the word atheist because, after all, I don't require a special term when I tell you I don't believe in a tooth fairy. You don't say, "Well, what's the word for someone who doesn't do that?" When I say I don't believe in witches and I don't believe in the biblical injunction to kill them either. Um, they don't say, "Why do you—what is it to be a non-believer in witches and witchcraft?" When I say to a Muslim, "Your prophet believes in dust devils and gins and the—the haunting spirits of the—of the desert," I shows what nonsensical peasant superstition is involved in the—in the Muslim profession of faith. No one says to me, "What—what word are you using to say you don't believe in dust devils and gins?" I think I can be generally credited with having good reasons for my doubt. However, I think that the challenge is a fair one because I think we are divided as between those of us who attribute our presence here to the laws of biology and the laws of physics and those of us who—and we are modest in doing that. I think we say we submit ourselves to the evidence, and even if it comes up with conclusions that aren't very welcome to us, we will accept them if they're well-founded. And those who are conceited enough—I would say arrogant enough in fact—to think that they are here as the consequence of a divine design. There's all the difference in the world between those two worldviews. And the big difference is one of them has evidence for it, and the other doesn't. And one of them will say in advance what would refute it. I—I can tell you, if you ask me what evidence, if presented, would mean I'd have to change my mind. And the theist will never do that. He will never tell you in advance, "Show me this, and I'll stop believing it." There's always an infinite replenishment of the infinitely renewable resource of faith going on. In fact, it's the humility of it that makes me laugh at it in a way the most. They say that they're humble for these believers in God. They want to be written up as—as—as modest because they think that, of course, that God tells them they're worms, originally sinful, ingrates, incurable, uh, made out of dust in one narrative, out of a clot of blood in the Quranic narrative, bad, off to a pretty shaky start, uh, condemned since an original fall of man. Nonetheless, cheer up. The universe is designed with you in mind. This is a depraved form of sadomasochism in—in—in my view. It's not good for you to go from this terrible abjection and serfdom in the one instance to this belief that you are the center of creation and the object of the cosmos in—in the other. It's a terrible alternation, a neurotic alternation between being much too servile and much too arrogant.
But just locally, what was—what would it be to believe this? Suppose you did believe that everything that had brought us here was by design. Uh, well, we know that 99.9% of all species that have ever existed just on this planet have become extinct. So heaven has already watched almost 100% of its creation die off, often in very unpleasant, callous circumstances with folded arms. Right? And that's billions of years of geological time. Some people say the homo sapiens has been around for 100,000 years, some for as long as a quarter of a million. No one says less than 100,000. Francis Collins, the great Christian believer who did the human genome project, says certainly 100,000. I'll take 100,000. Richard Dawkins thinks it's more. I'll take 100,000. What does it mean if we're divinely supervised and divinely created and looked out for? It means that for 98,000 or so of those years, humans—homo sapiens—were being born, dying—half of them in childbirth, I would think—life expectancy maybe of 20 years, maybe of 30, people dying essentially of their teeth, of hideous diseases, living in permanent fear: Where are the earthquakes coming from? Where are the lightning strikes coming from? Why is all this—where—what are these diseases that hit? We don't know about microbes. Have no idea. Um, that's to say nothing about the fights with neighboring tribes over women, over land, over meat, over subsistence, the—the—the torture, the—the violence, the cruelty uh that goes on. Um, I don't need to underline all of it. I hope you can picture it for yourself. 98,000—first 98,000 years, heaven watches this going on with perfect insouciance. And something like 2,000 or 3,000 years ago decides, "Right, we have to intervene now. We have to do something about this." Well, what would be the best way of intervening to try and redeem this rather bleak picture? What about having somebody tortured to death in an obscure part of the Middle East? That ought to cure it. Or if you're a Muslim, what about getting an illiterate epileptic shepherd to start babbling and saying that you—he'd be talking to an archangel? Or what? Or what about um inventing the figure of—of Moses in a mountain that's never yet been found by any geographer—Mount Sinai? That's what you'd have to believe. I've got a minute, right? That's what you have to believe. And that's why I asked myself, why do the worshippers of this god want to convict him of being such a crummy designer? Most of his creations die off, and the rest suffer miserably and earn the redemptive offers to stone—somehow—take of being cruel and capricious and bungling and—and incompetent. Why—and callous uh as a father—and so since this is as far as I can get now, I have to tell you why I don't think the idea of an eternal father is a good one. In any case, when I next get the chance to draw breath, thank you for staying with me this far.
First, Hitchens paints a grim picture of human history to argue against divine intervention, claiming that for 98,000 years, humanity suffered in ignorance before God supposedly intervened. This argument misses a critical point. Christianity doesn't teach that God's presence or guidance was absent before Christ. Instead, the Bible describes God working through creation, conscience, and specific revelations culminating in Jesus Christ's arrival as a decisive act of redemption. Hitchens' timeline-based critique oversimplifies the Christian perspective on history and divine purpose.
Second, his dismissal of morality being tied to a supernatural source undermines his own argument. Hitchens concedes that humans grapple with moral questions regardless of belief. But without a divine anchor, morality becomes subjective, merely a product of societal or evolutionary preferences. This raises a paradox: How does he justify condemning acts like genocide or cruelty if moral standards are just human constructs? Christianity, by contrast, grounds morality in the unchanging nature of God, offering a coherent basis for objective right and wrong.
Finally, his quip about God's will being unknowable might sound clever, but it ignores centuries of theological scholarship and the claims of Christ. Christians don't claim to know everything about God. They claim that God has revealed what humanity needs to know through scripture and the person of Jesus. To dismiss this outright is to sidestep the evidence Lennox and countless others have presented for the reliability of those revelations. And there you have it, an eye-opening look at the origins of morality and the crucial role that God plays in grounding objective ethical standards. Dr. Lennox's insights challenge the common narrative of atheism and provide a compelling case for why morality isn't just a human construct, but something divinely ordained. If you found this discussion insightful, don't forget to hit that like button. Share your thoughts in the comments and subscribe to the channel for more thought-provoking content like this. We dive deep into important debates, providing a Christian perspective on today's most challenging issues. Stay tuned for more videos that will strengthen your understanding and equip you with the knowledge to engage with the world around you. Thanks for watching, and see you in the next.