v Beyond Belief v
--"I believe in the Communion of
Saints."
--"Really? How quaint!"
--"And in the resurrection of the body."
--"Oh come now, let's be real!"
--"And life everlasting."
--"Hey, call 911! This guy's losing it!"
--OK, so what do you believe?"
The silence was something you could cut with a two-edged sword.
v
v An Interview with Profssor Agnostini v
Conducted by Bernard Josephson
Enquirer: Professor Agnostini, thank you for taking the time to answer these
questions.
Agnostini: You’re quite welcome.
E:
You say you are an agnostic?
A:
That’s correct.
E.
Have you ever had a belief in God?
A.
Not really.
E.
Were your parents religious?
A.
Not that I ever noticed.
E.
Did they believe in God?
A.
Probably in some limited way.
E.
But you don’t?
A.
I’ve already explained that I am an agnostic. I am neutral on the

question.
E.
Neutral or undecided?
A.
Neutral is the better term. I’m not trying to decide anything here.
E.
Would indifference describe you state of mind?
A.
Perhaps. Why be concerned about something or someone you can

know nothing about?
E.
Even if that party had some power over you?
A.
I suppose even in that case. If you can’t do anything about it, why

concern yourself with it unduly.
E.
But in the case of God, in virtually every religion in recorded history,

there are many things you can do to win God’s favor. Obeying the Ten

Commandments, for example.
A.
Sure, but your question has two built-in assumptions. First, you’re

assuming an agnostic has something to worry about when it comes to

God. God is supposed to be loving, isn’t he, all forgiving and so on.

The second thing, which is the more critical, is that you’re assuming

he exists. My position is that if you’re agnostic about God, you have

to be agnostic about things like the Ten Commandments as well.
E.
And about any idea of heaven and hell?
A.
Of course. It’s all unknowable so why be concerned about it.
E.
Do you think Pascal’s Wager makes no sense?
A.
It makes no sense to me, that’s for sure. And in fact, I don’t know of

anyone who believes in God on a shrewd gamble like the one Pascal

suggests. And I can’t imagine religious assent based such a motive

would please God.
E.
Well, that’s arguable. Scripture has it that fear is the beginning of

wisdom, but let me put the question another way. Would it please you

to learn, of a sudden, that there is a God after all?
A.
That’s an interesting question. I think I have to answer that I’m not sure it

would matter to me, one way or the other. I haven’t thought about it

because I don’t expect to experience your hypothesis.
E.
But it would be interesting to know how anyone could remain indifferent

as to whether or not God truly exists.
A.
Why does that surprise you? Doesn’t that indifference describe the

great majority even of believers, at least in a relative way? I think my 

parents probably did believe in God in some dim way, but it meant

nothing to them as far as I could tell.
E.
You are right, of course. But the question still remains. Let me ask you

in another way. Why do you think for some people God is very

important, to the point that they are willing to lay down their lives for

Him, and for others, like yourself, apparently he appears to mean

nothing at all.
A.
Well, I’m not exactly sure. But why do some people like Bartok and

others can’t stand his music? I guess it’s a matter of taste. You can

cultivate a taste for almost anything.
E.
The taste for God, as you call it, has been present since the beginning of

history, until our age at any rate. Anthropologists have never found a

culture without some form of religion. How do you account for that?
A.
Well, we don’t know that everyone was religious, just because a culture

had an element of religion in it. That’s probably always going to be

the case. People used to fear the forces of nature, storms, lightening,

droughts; today maybe it’s more just plain fear of what might happen

to them. Ultimately it’s the fear of dying, and so people project these

fears onto unknown forces that seem to control and often threaten

their lives. They want to neutralize them, keep them friendly. Not

everyone thinks this way, mind you, and many probably never did.

Some people take out insurance policies and see the doctor once a

year. Others pray or whatever.
E.
You have no fear of anything that might happen to you?
A.
Not really. Sure, I have anxieties. Everyone does, even believers. But

normal anxieties don’t drive my kind to a belief in a god who controls

everything, in the hopes that he’ll watch out for us or something.
E.
Has it every occurred to you that God does watch out for those who

believe in him?
A.
I can’t say I have. We would have seen some hard evidence for it if that

were true.
E.
Well, believers have the experience that He does. Can you accept their

testimony?
A.
I guess I can accept the fact that they make these claims. I don’t accept

there is any evidence their lives are any different. They get sick and

die just like everyone else, don’t they?
E.
Believers claim they have peace and joy, even in the face of death. The

martyrs sang hymns in the face of lions and tigers.
A.
But what does that mean really? Peace and joy are pretty relative

terms, aren’t they? Are you suggesting unbelievers cannot face death

with equanimity? That no one else experiences peace and joy in their

lives?
E.
Yes, I agree, the terms are relative. But believers will tell you that the 

peace they have is different in kind, a peace “not as the world gives,’ 

and so is their joy.
A.
OK, so we agree on something. Everybody’s different. What does it

prove?
E.
Believers also say that they feel loved, not just by another person, or their

dog, but by God, the author of life, the source of every good thing.
A.
Good for them then.
E.
Is that all you have to say?
A.
What am I supposed to say, that I don’t feel loved?
E.
Well, do you mind telling me, do you feel loved?
A.
Obviously not, not in that sense.
E.
And is that a matter of indifference to you, being loved or not being

loved.
A.
You know something? Love is a mixed blessing. I’m divorced, for

example. Love has its up side and its down side.
E.
I take it that the down side is that love sometimes turns into something

else.
A.
You can say that again.
E.
I mean that your problem is not with love itself, but with the lover.
A.
Fair enough. But God can turn against us too, right? I’ve read the Bible.
E.
What have you read that tells you that?
A.
In Isaiah, it says God is the author of both good and evil. Read the

stories. He’s always smiting someone or other.
E.
But you say you don’t believe in God.
A.
That’s exactly right.
E.
How can you not like something about him, then?
A.
I could never believe in that kind of god, that’s for sure.
E.
Would you believe in a different kind of God, who didn’t smite anyone for

example?
A.
I go back to my original statement. I’m an agnostic. I don’t like to

speculate about something that can never be decided.
E.
Because there’s no evidence?
A.
Because there’s no evidence, exactly. And it’s not likely there will ever

be.
E.
What sort of evidence would satisfy you?
A.
(hesitates) I’m not sure what would convince me. I’d have to give that

some thought.
E.
Are you really saying, in effect, that nothing would ever convince you?
A.
No, of course not. But I’m not sure what form the evidence would have to

take. I’ve never thought about it that way.
E.
Do you know what the evidence is that’s there now?
A.
There isn’t any as far as I can see.
E.
What about miracles?
A.
I don’t accept the miraculous, and I don’t know anybody who does.

There’s no one on this faculty who would ever admit to miracles. Not

even the few theists.
E.
What about events that are inexplicable in natural terms?
A.
I don’t believe there are any such events. In some case, we just don’t

understand the circumstances well enough.
E.
What about healings that confound medical science?
A.
Just because we don’t understand the natural processes doesn’t mean

they don’t exist. Who says these are miracles? No book of science

speaks of them.
E.
What about the dancing sun that 70,000 people saw at Fatima in 1917?
A.
I have no idea what you are talking about. If something like that ever

happened, it would be mass hysteria.
E.
What about bleeding hosts?
A.
I know nothing about that. What is it?
E.
What about the image of Jesus Christ on the shroud at Turin. Have you

heard of that?
A.
I read something about it somewhere. It was shown to be a fake, wasn’t

it?
E.
To the contrary, it has scientists completely baffled.
A.
Not any of the scientists around here. I doubt they even know about it.
E.
What about something in the natural order, like that fact that religious

families are healthier, happier, even economically better off on

average.
A.
Yeah, I’ve heard the slogan: the family that prays together stays

together. My view is that they have the causality backwards. The

family that stays together prays together. Their religious feeling is a

function of their contentment as a family, not the other way around, like

icing on a cake.
E.
I have the feeling that even if God appears in the sky and declared
`
himself with one miraculous event after another, you wouldn’t believe.

Am I wrong?
A.
Why doesn’t he, if we wants people to believe in him? It would certainly

make things a lot easier for people.
E.
Would you believe?
A.
I guess I would have to.
E
That’s why He doesn’t work that way. He wants people

to believe freely, of their own free will. He won’t force you.
A.
Then he shouldn’t mind if there’s an agnostic or two in the crowd, right?
E.
So are you saying then that you don’t believe in God because you chose

to not believe?
A.
I don’t think I said that.
E.
No, but isn’t that what it comes down to?
A.
I don’t see it that way.
E
Well, you don’t believe and no kind of evidence seems able to make you

believe, at least not any kind that you can identify, except maybe the

sort of evidence that God might force down your throat. But he’s not

interested in that kind of follower. So belief is up to you, and your

answer, as far as I can tell, is “I think I’ll pass.”
A.
Look, I said I’m an agnostic. I don’t reject god. I just don’t there is a
E.
Have you ever looked for God? He said “Seek and you shall find.”
A.
Where would you look?
F.
Have you ever asked Him to show Himself?
A.
Can’t say that I have.
E.
Have you ever prayed?
A.
Agnostics don’t pray, surely you understand that.
E.
Would you say then that you don’t believe there is a God because you

never tried to find Him?
A.
Are you suggesting it’s my fault? That’s absolutely silly. I never

look at the sun but I sure know its there.
E.
You know, there’s another thing that believers get from God.
A.
What’s that?
E.
Their identity. They know who they are, where they came from, where

they are going, why they are here.
A.
I suppose they think they do.
E.
And you are agnostic about these things too, I gather?
A.
Well, there are no easy answers to any of those questions, far as I can

see.
E.
Would you say, then, that you are an agnostic not only about God but

about yourself?
A.
You know, there are people in this university who deny there is even

such a thing as self.
E.
And you?
A.
Well, as you say, I am an agnostic.
E.
About both God and self?
A.
Yes, I guess so, if you want to put it that way.
E.
And are both issues matters of indifference to you? You said that about

God. True about self also?
A.
Look, this discussion has gone on long enough, don’t you think?
E.
OK, whatever you say, but thanks for this conversation. It’s been quite

interesting.
A.
You’re not welcome.
v
v An Interview with Professor Agnostini (Click here)