Faith & Thought

The Assurance of God’s Ever-Present Availability

Last spring, I taught a philosophy course at St. John’s University that had the awful title of “The Problem of God.” I have taught the course several times. It should have been called “The Mystery of God,” but that title is also used for a course in theology, and at St. John’s, two courses with the same title are not permitted.

I can easily recall the time several years ago when the chairman asked me to teach the course. The instructor who was teaching the course no longer wished to teach it. The way the chairman approached me revealed to me that he thought I would be doing him a favor by teaching the course. I almost found that amusing. Apparently, he did not realize that he was doing me a favor. To have an opportunity to teach an entire course about God was a gift. To lecture two or three times a week
about God is a privilege and blessing in my life. I hope I never forget that.

I decided to divide the course into three sections: the first section would cover traditional arguments for God’s existence, particularly those of Anselm and Thomas Aquinas; the second would examine influential 19th- and 20th-century atheists; and the third would explore contemporary reflections on the meaning of God. As I suspected when I agreed to teach the course, I have found the course to be a wonderful educational experience for me.

I expected that the first and third sections of the course would help me deepen my philosophical reflections about God, but I was surprised how much the atheists helped me in my philosophical reflections about God. Almost every atheist whose philosophy the students and I have encountered in the course has helped me in my philosophical reflections about God. I will offer one example, the atheist whom I would have least expected would deepen my thoughts about God, Friedrich Nietzsche.

Nietzsche (1844-1900) was an existentialist. Some books identify Nietzsche as the first existentialist, but Kierkegaard (1813 1855) preceded him. The phrase that is often associated with Nietzsche is “the Death of God.” Nietzsche did not mean that there was a being called God who died. He meant the idea of God, which influenced every part of culture, no longer had that influence. The death of the idea of God influenced everything. The following quotation is from the book “Religion and Atheism” by William Luijpen and Henry J. Koren:

“God is dead and belief in the Christian God has become unbelievable; this fantastic fact has already begun to cast its shadow over Europe. True, his death means liberation. It brings happiness, relief, and the dawn of a new era. Man will be innocent again. But there are also other, more remote consequences.

“Most people are unable to grasp all that will follow from God’s death; they have no inkling of the collapse of everything that has been built on the belief in God. Because God is dead they can no longer pray or find rest in infinite confidence; there is no longer any ultimate Truth, ultimate Goodness, ultimate Power. Man is alone at last, but he no longer also has any Friend; he lives forlorn on an icy mountain-top, without a place where he can find rest for his weary heart. Who as yet has the courage to face such an ordeal?

“The death of God means, first of all, that no one will still strive for the moral good, for morality is intimately connected with the existence of God” (p. 116).

I am impressed both by Nietzsche’s awareness of how, at one time, almost everything in society was related in some way to belief in God. I am also impressed that Nietzsche recognized the enormous consequences of atheism. His description of how people will feel abandoned and adrift if they cease to believe in God is powerful. To go from a belief in God to disbelief in God is not a small step with no consequences. It is almost earth-shattering. Of course, Nietzsche offered a solution very different from the solution offered by Christians.

Reflecting on what I think is needed in the face of massive disbelief, I think of Pope Francis’ dream of a revolution of love that would transform culture. I don’t think Pope Francis’ dream is unrealistic if each of us tries to transform the culture in which we live. If I become a loving person and my neighbor becomes a loving person, then a revolution of love would be happening. Each believer has a contribution to make to the revolution of love.

Everyone is called to be a gift-giver, which is another way of saying everyone is called to be a lover.


Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica. His new book, “The Cosmic Love Story: God and Us,” is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble.