Only an Atheist Can Believe in God

Many years ago, I was riding on the New York City subway, reading Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time. “Only an atheist can believe in God,” I wrote in my notebook. The man sitting beside me recoiled in horror, apparently not minding his own business. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said, “to write something like that while wearing a kippa.” I didn’t bother trying to explain myself to him.

The basic idea is this: only by contemplating the possibility of an immensely complex universe such as our own emerging and running without God is it possible to appreciate the alternative—that there is a God behind all of this, a deity concerning whom the Psalmist exclaimed:

^{תהלים קד:כד} מָה רַבּוּ מַעֲשֶׂיךָ  יְ־הֹוָה

^{Ps 104:24} How many are the things You have made, YHWH!

For us, unlike for most people in the ancient world, belief in God is no longer culturally compulsory. It is now possible for natural processes to serve as a place-holder for God. The implications of this situation could not be captured any more forcefully than by Nietzsche:

The madman leapt into their midst and pierced them with his gaze. “Where has God gone?” he cried. “I will tell you! We have killed him—you and I!… What did we do when we unchained this earth from its sun? Where is it moving now? Where are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not continually falling? And backward, sideways, forward, in all directions? Is there still an above and a below?” (The Gay Science, §125)

Modernity has brought us to a situation in which God and no-God are both genuinely available possibilities. Rational arguments can be given and debated, but who decides at the end of the day? David Hume warned us that reason is a slave to the passions. Rational argument may take us far, but at some point another question intrudes: Do we want God?

From a religious perspective, all of this can be reframed in positive terms. Now more than ever, it is possible to have a relationship with God by consent.

Whether in the text or in the world, a relationship with God is a constant choice. As an observant Jewish academic biblical scholar, I am perpetually straddling two seemingly mutually exclusive worlds: one that interprets the Bible as divine revelation and the other as a human artifact. My guiding principle has been not to let critical inquiry dictate faith, nor the opposite. In other words, neither possibility cancels out the other. They are both constantly available.

It is not a case of having made up one’s mind at a certain point in life and then cruising on “auto-pilot.” One never finishes making up one’s mind. As Hillel warned:

^{אבות ב:ד} וְאַל תַּאֲמִין בְּעַצְמְךָ עַד יוֹם מוֹתְךָ

^{m. Avot 2:4} Do not trust in yourself until the day of your death.