When I first began to question my faith in God, I was posed with the issue of the number of gods.
Polytheism
In antiquity, it seems that nearly all civilizations had some kind of pantheon of gods that they imagined ruled the world. This is the most natural thing to understand. When we look at nature, we see a range of powers that seem to compete with each other. Our primitive minds as we developed were equipped for self-preservation, and one of the instincts that most aided this survival was the tendency to attribute agency and will to natural phenomena.
Imagine a deer grazing in a field when suddenly the tall grass at the edge of the field begins to sway. The first thing that deer notices is the sound. What was that?! It’s ears perk up, it lifts its head and stares around to see what the sound was. It notices the grass swaying and stands perfectly still. The movement of the grass could be contributed to several different things. It could just be the wind. The deer watches and waits to see what happens next. Did the movement begin to swell in the grass? Could it be a lion trying to sneak up and attack? It becomes instinct to assume that if it moves and if it could possibly lead to death, then it is an agent – a beast of prey, an attacker, a death dealer of some sort. If the grass begins to sway more quickly and the movement seems to be coming towards the deer, even if they do not see any lions around, they take off running.
We did the same things by nature. We could not stop a volcano from erupting or a storm from rampaging our settlements. What could we assume? Were these events causing themselves, as a primitive mind might conclude, not having access to information about the actual causes of catastrophes? Or, would it make better sense to assume that there is a power behind the events themselves? If there is a disaster, it must be caused by some force that is beyond our understanding and far more powerful than us. Thus, a god was brought into being to describe every type of force that was beyond us. Mankind invented a god of lightning, a god of fire, a god of each season (the one in strife with the other), a god of the sun, a god of the moon, a god of artistic expression, a god of family life, a god of war, a god of love, a god of enlightenment and a god of darkness. We were very creative in our assigning agency to every known force and every occurrence in nature.
Mankind developed myths that explained everything about existence. Where did the world come from? Why was the sea so great? What is beyond the sea? Why do we have various land masses separated by waters? Why do people exist in different locations and with different languages? How did we get the various animals of the world? What happens to a person when they die? Why should we behave ethically? Etiological myths were created to explain the origins of everything from a certain rock formation to a certain type of animal. Stories came into being about the rivalries of the gods, and rituals were developed whereby mankind could avoid the wrath of the gods and keep them from blowing up mountains, sending lightning bolts and destroying their livelihoods.
Was it a very big leap from the belief in many gods, gods of all shapes and sizes and inclinations, to the belief in one solitary god (God) who creates, sustains and permeates everything? Perhaps it was a great leap, but it seems that this major change (like all major change) took place in stages.
Monolatry
Plato wisely and immortally described the deterioration and death of democracy in the Republic in his description, as through the mouth of Socrates, of how a tyrant receives power from the masses “for their own protection.” This description appears in book 8 with the following words:
And so the probable outcome of too much freedom is only too much slavery in the individual and the state.... Probably, then, tyranny develops out of no other constitution than democracy—from the height of liberty, I take it, the fiercest extreme of servitude.... [I]n a democracy this [famous and wealthy class] is the dominating class, with rare exceptions, and the fiercest part of it makes speeches and transacts business, and the remainder swarms and settles about the speaker’s stand and keeps up a buzzing and tolerates no dissent, so that everything with slight exceptions is administered by that class in such a state.... When all are pursuing wealth the most orderly and thrifty natures for the most part become the richest.... The capitalistic class is, I take it, the name by which they are designated—the pasture of the drones.... And so, I suppose, those [poor working people] who are thus plundered are compelled to defend themselves by speeches in the assembly and any action in their power.... And thereupon the charge is brought against them by the other party, though they may have no revolutionary designs, that they are plotting against the people, and it is said that they are oligarchs.... And then finally, when they see the people, not of its own will but through misapprehension, and being misled by the calumniators, attempting to wrong them, why then, whether they wish it or not, they become in very deed oligarchs, not willingly, but this evil too is engendered by those drones which sting them.... And then there ensue impeachments and judgements and lawsuits on either side.... And is it not always the way of a demos [people] to put forward one man as its special champion and protector and cherish and magnify him?... This, then, is plain... that when a tyrant arises he sprouts from a protectorate root and from nothing else.How can a people go from being a democracy to living under tyranny? Simple enough, says Socrates... Let the powerful exploit the weak (as they do naturally) and the weak stand up against the powerful (as is clearly predictable). Once the powerful accuse the weak of insurrection and turn the opinion of the onlookers (the disinterested middle party) against those who were violated, this latter group feels the need to take on the powerful and set things right. The powerful eventually choose one person who becomes a “champion of the people” and leads the fight against the perceived usurpers. He manages to silence the opposition and, in the end, enjoys having the power to make decisions. The tyrant becomes the tyrant by the will of the people, since they feel the need to be protected and secure from insurrectionist groups and terrorism.
[[Excerpted from Plato’s Replublic, Book 8, lines 564a-565c, translated by Paul Shorey, as it appears on the Perseus Project’s webpage found here.]]
We see it happen vividly in the destruction of the Republic and the formation of the First Galactic Empire in George Lucas’s famous film series Star Wars, and this may be truer to life than many would imagine possible. As Chancellor Palpatine calls for emergency power from the Senate and then moves the creation of an empire, Amidala is shown to comment that: “So, this is how liberty dies - with thunderous applause.” By creating a threat to the Republic, Chancellor Palpatine (really, Darth Sidious of the Sith) is able to manipulate the votes of the elected leadership so that he can put down the “separatists” and restore “peace” to the universe. The multitude of voices, the (at least perceived) instability, the lack of direction that resulted from the desire to respect the rights of all... these things seem to lead the population out of control, and a strong voice is necessary to set things right.
The situation with gods is similar. In history we find peoples that are more agrarian, some that are more urban, some that are more ethnocentristic and xenophobic, and others that are mixed and open. The culture of the people tended to determine which of the various gods of the pantheon they would worship. An agrarian culture might tend to worship gods of rain or vegetation (such as Demeter or Dionysus); an urban “enlightened” civilization might tend to worship gods of truth or revelation (such as Apollo); a warlike people might tend to worship gods of aggression and war (such as Ares). It is in the confrontations between peoples that we see various gods chosen as “patron deities,” that is, deities who adopt the people and exert themselves to protect them.
Yahweh (יהוה) became the patron deity of Israel, as just such an example. Early on in the history of the Israelite people – and we can see this in the Bible itself – they did not worship only one deity. There was actually a pantheon of deities in Canaan, where the Hebrews grew and developed into an independent people (the story of the Egyptian slavery and Exodus is, as it turns out, a myth invented to create a cultural identity for the people and separate them from their Canaanite neighbors). Among the gods, the chief God was called Elyon (עליון) and the rest of the gods were his sons. Yahweh was one of his children and, according to the earlier form of the myth, he received Israel (ישראל) as his inheritance – just as the other gods received other nations as their inheritances. It will surely come as a shock to those who want to read monotheism into the full history of Israel, but this myth is recorded within a song that is written into the text of the Bible. It can be found in Deuteronomy 32:8-9. This text has undergone an emendation, but the Septuagint seems to have preserved an earlier reading/understanding.
Deuteronomy 32:8-9
- בהנחל עליון גוים
- When Elyon apportioned the nations (as an inheritance to his sons),
- בהפרידו בני אדם
- when he divided the sons of men (among the sons of Elohim),
- יצב גבלת עמים
- — he established the borders of the peoples
- למספר בני אלהים
- for the number of the sons of Elohim —
- כי חלק יהוה עמו
- the portion of Yahweh [was] his people,
- יעקב חבל נחלתו
- Jacob the lot of his inheritance.
The problem when reading these things is that it is difficult to keep them in their historical context. Later generations conflated all of the names of deities into the one God that Jews worshiped exclusively. Thus, “Elyon” (עליון), “Elohim” (אלהים) and “El” (אל) — even “Baal” (בעל) at some points — all became titles of Yahweh (יהוה). In accordance with this convergence of names, the “sons of Elohim” (בני אלהים) became angels (מלאכים) in later mythology.[1]
There is also the textual difficulty that I mentioned before. The Massoretic Text reads למספר בני ישראל (“for the sons of Israel”) in line 4 of this excerpt. This seems to be a change to the text, since it makes little sense in the context. The divisions of the peoples/nations/sons of men would need to be according to the number of those receiving an inheritance. Here we see Elyon (the chief god of the Canaanite pantheon) dividing up the peoples and apportioning each god with an inheritance. It would only make sense that the nations be divided up into the number of gods who were receiving them. And it so happens that Yahweh was among those receiving an inheritance on that day – and he received Jacob (יעקב) as his inheritance, whereas other gods received other nations. Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia shows us that the Septuagint preserves this phrase as ἀγγέλων θεοῦ (“the angels of God”), which could only be an interpretation of an earlier בני אל (“sons of El”), בני אלים (“sons of Elim”) or בני אלהים (“sons of Elohim”). Whatever the original was, it doesn’t make any sense for the text to have “Israel” in this place. The Dead Sea Scrolls apparently support the understanding that I’ve included here, too. (I don’t have access to them, but the note in BHS does include the Septuagint.)
Either way, it seems absolutely clear that early Israelite mythology included a number of gods (and goddesses), which is why it was so easy for them to turn to Baal and Asherah worship during the time of the kings. If they didn’t accept the existence of these other gods, there would have been no sense in them worshiping them. Rather, what we see is that they believed that there were many gods, but at the same time, they came to believe that it was appropriate for them to worship only Yahweh – since they belonged to him by right of redemption.
The practice of worshiping only one deity while allowing for the legitimate existence of others is called monolatry, from the Greek μόνος (“only”) and λατρεία (“worship”). This also happened among the ancient Greeks. See, for example, the focus of worship on Athena in the city of Athens (after whom she was named), the worship of Artemis/Diana in Ephesus, etc. People in distinct areas came to worship one god over the others, often to the point of exclusivity. Early Israelite worship was a form of monolatry, not monotheism.
Monotheism
Monotheism is the belief in the existence of only one deity. This is what Judaism developed into, but it does not represent the earliest form of Israelite belief. Monotheism began to take hold in Israel probably with the reforms of Josiah, who refused to allow the worship of any other deity in Judah (the area of his kingship). After the Babylonian exile, it became the standard belief of essentially all Jews.
As I weighed these various perspectives – the existence of a multitude of gods, the existence of one greater god who deserves worship above all others, the existence of only one god – I truly thought that it was ridiculous to postulate the existence of many gods. Polytheism seemed clearly foolish, given that many gods with many wills (θελήματα), each competing with the others, could cause nothing but discord in the universe. What would keep the universe together if everything were in strife at all times? The concept of polytheism was untenable in my thinking, as was the existence of lesser gods (even if this is what earlier Israelites believed).
I believed early on that monotheism was the only viable option with regard to the existence of god/gods/God. As I said, the idea of a universe without the pervasive presence of the Divine nearly made me sick. I found myself at the point where I had to decide – to make a conscious decision – between the belief in no gods (atheism) and the belief in one God (monotheism).
I looked at the arguments for the existence of God and found out that they were generally weak in the face of atheistic counterarguments. However, I drew a line in the sand. I chose to believe in God, without any evidence, without any reason, on the sole basis of a choice. I would not imagine a universe in which God did not exist, and I would continue to believe and keep myself in a state of faith.
Deism
As I said before, my faith in God was always centered around the Bible. I grew up thinking that the Bible was synonymous with Scripture, the Holy Book and the Word of God. We were told that “all scripture is God-breathed” (1 Timothy 3:16), that “the word of the Lord is right and true” (Psalm 33:4) and that “no word from God will ever fail” (Luke 1:37). The first crack in my faith was experienced when I learned that Dispensationalism was not true, since that meant that so many well-meaning Christians could be misled. If they could be misled so completely, how could we be sure about any interpretation of Scripture? I had to learn to understand the Scripture on its own terms, to learn what it said for itself quite apart from what I had been taught and to come to grips with its message.
So, it could be no real surprise that the contradictions and mistakes in the New Testament later broke me of my childhood faith. Yet, I still threw down the line that I would not cross. I could not be a polytheist, refused to be an atheist and chose to believe that God still existed as a unity and that he revealed himself in the Tanach. I didn’t accept any of the arguments that believing philosophers tend to give for God’s existence (cosmological, teleological and ontological arguments are the most common). I chose to believe in God and to believe that he revealed himself in the Jewish Scriptures.
I think Deism provided a nice quick stepping stone away from Monotheism. It was the faith of many of the founders of the United States, and it was in the pages of Thomas Paine’s Age of Reason that I came away with the clear realization that not only had I been duped about the “perfection” of the New Testament but that I had also chosen to overlook the mistakes of the Jewish Scriptures in hopes of their being true and Yahweh (whom I then called “HaShem”) being the one True God. Paine showed very clearly the obvious mistakes in the Hebrew Bible and argued that organized religion had misconstrued “nature’s God” in assigning will and preference to divinity. I then ran into the question of the morality of the Conquest Narratives while proofing my friend Thom Stark’s book The Human Faces of God. I was confronted with the fact that the Hebrew Scriptures are filled with moral problems (a father taking his son out to sacrifice him to a deity, two daughters getting their father drunk in order to have children with him, genocide ordered at the command of the divinity, etc.) and with chronological problems that show it to have been written later than what is claimed by the religious.
Deism helped me to accept that the organized monotheistic religions were essentially the same in their truth claims. That is, none of them has any more truth than the rest, and all are filled with myths and absurdities. I thought it perfectly reasonable that the God who created all things could very well not have been an active agent at all, but rather a force that started everything spinning.
Atheism
From Deism, it was actually quite easy to drop the need for a creator altogether and become an atheist. I came across arguments from Christopher Hitchens uploaded to YouTube that just sent me into ecstasy. His clarity and honesty was something that I hadn’t heard in ages, and I found that his arguments against religion were always spot-on. I picked up books by Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Bart Ehrman and others dealing with religion from the position of skepticism and criticism.
I think back to when I was a theist and could not imagine a world in which God did not pervade all things and give them life, and I think of how different I am today. Today the concepts of gods and fairies are essentially the same thing to me. If I believed in fairies dancing around the forest and flying from tree to tree, I think it might be very difficult to try to imagine a world without fairies. However, I’ve come to find that the world of existence is very real and very beautiful (even with its dangers) even without the need to explain it all through the use of filler words (like “God” - which essentially means different things to different people and has no real meaning of its own). I cannot see what pushed me to imagine God pervading all things when it is clear that the universe is vastly empty and lifeless, that it is unsuitable to life and survival in nearly universal terms and that we all struggle for survival every day of our lives - just as life itself struggles for continuance in every generation.
I cannot be a believer today or ever again because: (1) the Bible is false, has failed us and provides examples of behavior that no moral person should approve of - such as the slaughtering of woman and children at the command of God; (2) the universe itself is vast and empty, not indicative of a creator that seeks to populate and fill; (3) religion has been a huge source of strife, violence and evil in the world; (4) it is clear that we are the product of natural processes and that we must learn to live within our world - in our flesh - and to conduct ourselves with justice and fairness to our fellow creatures; (5) the values of equality and justice are not properly supported by a traditionally religious attitude, despite individuals who exemplify these values while remaining faithful to general religious purposes.
I’ve come to see that the universe really is essentially empty. We are alone with one another on a rock floating in space. Our existence rests on the edge of a knife, and it seems that we do not value it as much as we should like. This world is not just an entry way into the world to come. Indeed, this world is our very existence, our only chance at happiness, the frame in which we fit into an ever-changing picture. If we don’t learn to get alone as a species, if we do not push for fairness among all peoples, if we do not put an end to war and man-made desolation, we could very well push ourselves over the edge.
Life is beautiful and sweet. It is the exception in a universe of darkness and death (nonexistence). Let’s make the most of it and stop trying to nullify it. Say “yes” to life and “no” to forces that would make you squelch this life in hopes of a different one. This is the one you have. This is the one you can be sure of. Don’t believe them when they tell you to believe in fairies, and reject their message when they come to you with stories about gods. Live your life in such a way that you could come to the end and say, “Yes! I would do it again!”
Notes:
- This also adds to the meaning of Genesis 6 and the mixing of divine and human seed. This was well-known in Greek mythology, for example. The pantheon of deities were imagined to condescend and mate with human females, and this is certainly what was in mind when the story in Genesis 6 was written – that the sons of Elohim, the very ones who are receiving their inheritance from their father in Deuteronomy 32, are said to have come down and mated with women. The identification of the “sons of Elohim” with angels comes from other texts, such as the book of Job, in which the angels are given this name. This really is quite apart from the point, though.
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