A Basic Case for God

As I was shredding my guitar along to the most sonically sensational Ratt tunes this morning, it occurred to me that the most basic (and informal) statement of the cosmological argument (for the existence of God) is essentially this:

1. There must be something fundamentally different in this world—something uncaused, necessary, eternal—to ultimately make sense of (explain, cause, or ground) all the stuff that is clearly not uncaused, necessary, eternal.

2. That very different something must be relevantly different. In other words, for something to be uncaused, necessary, and eternal, whatever it is that makes it different must be the sort of difference that actually makes a difference to it being uncaused. And when we work out what those relevant differences are, we ultimately arrive at a being that is radically other—simple, purely actual, immutable, unrestrictedly powerful, knowledgeable, good, and so on—fitting the designation of God.¹

What I’m saying, of course, is just what I’ve said so many times before, but in different language (most extensively in The Best Argument for God and most technically, and somewhat differently, in my article, The Millerian Cosmological Argument). For instance, something having fewer angles, being slightly less fat, being in the key of F# minor, taking the shape of a turtle instead of an ostrich, or being located at a different point in space-time does not seem like the kind of difference that is relevant—the kind of difference that would actually make the difference we’re looking for.

Nor is it enough to say that the difference is simply that this something is uncaused and necessary—because, again, that just raises the question of what sort of thing could be uncaused and necessary. We agree that something—at least one thing—must be uncaused and necessary; what we are now asking is how anything could be like that.

Once more, I think the Perennial Philosophy got this absolutely right: the sorts of things that are contingent and must be caused are the sorts of things that are qualitatively finite (having arbitrary limits—for example, in power, knowledge, goodness, position, or shape), composite (all composite things have limits, if only to differentiate their parts from the whole or from each other), and changeable or mutable (such entities acquire new and different modes of existence and are thus metaphysically composite, consisting of principles of act and potency, etc.), and (perhaps most obviously) are substantially generated and corrupted.

This means that—unless reality is fundamentally absurd—the sort of thing we’re looking for must be radically other, incredibly "spooky," and utterly unique.² It must be simple and immutable (and, because of that, eternal), without arbitrary limits—a being of pure, unrestricted power, knowledge, and goodness; immaterial, incorruptible; absolute. Ultimately, it must be a being whose essence is identical to its existence—a being of pure existence, as Aquinas held, rather than one of participated existence. (Is such a being coherent? I contend that it is—but only if one already has in place a certain theory of existence, analogy, and so on. All of that, however, is beyond the scope of this discussion.)

This, of course, is just the classical theistic conception of God. And again, I must emphasize, this conception of God is not derived from Biblical interpretation (though, of course, many Christians will argue it can be—but let’s set that aside). Rather, it is the conception of God that emerges when properly asking—and properly answering, within a particular (I think ultimately correct) metaphysical system—the question of what sort of thing could anchor everything else existentially, while needing no anchoring itself. It is, as I should say, the God of the Philosopher.³

OK, are you sick of me talking about this yet?

If so, go listen to this Ratt tune and take a break.

If not, check out my book—or this post, this post, this post, or, yep, this post.

1. Whatever is relevantly different really must be radically (categorically) different!

2. See Gerson for some arguments on why there can only be one absolutely simple being, whose essence just is its existence.

3. Though, of course, many argue that the God of the Philosopher just is the God of the Bible.