Do Atheists Yearn For a “Road to Damascus” Moment?

Looking back to my past as a militant atheist I actually can't quite remember if I ever asked myself that question, or even if I ever felt this way or that way about it. I ask it now because it has crossed my mind lately, especially, and once again, because of the debate between David Wood and Matt Dillahunty, a debate that prompted me to write some stuff critical of atheism and secular humanism, which you may want to read, in this very same blog, if you find this present article at all interesting. I suppose some atheists won't, they'll find the title downright funny or perhaps even insulting... but as a wise man once said – It's all in the game, yo.

“Conversion on the Way to Damascus” by Caravaggio

In the New Testament, in the book of Acts specifically, the apostle Paul, then named Saul, who by his own admission was a horrible man who persecuted christians, was traveling to Damascus precisely on such business when he was suddenly overwhelmed by a bright light, and then an imposing voice asked of him – Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? Paul then refers to that voice as his lord and asks what he wants from him. And thus, from that moment on, a man who was a vehement persecutor of christians became one of the most influential christians of all time, having thereafter written various epistles that became an integral part of the New Testament. So in essence, Paul turned his whole life around after what seemed like divine intervention, after what seemed like, at least to him, categorical and empirical truth of the risen Jesus.

Since Paul's time, this story became an expression used to describe a complete reversal of one's worldview after a significant, and perhaps spiritual, experience. For instance, some avid smokers, after having a friend get diagnosed with lung cancer, never touch another cigarette. Other people, after learning of some cruel instance of animal farming, never eat meat or any animal products again, and so on. A road to Damascus moment would then be an experience so powerful that it completely overwhelms us to the point where we rebuke all possible arguments against it. Not all smokers get cancer and not everyone who feels sorry for animals becomes a vegan, but those who are granted the revelation have their lives forever changed. However, though meaningful in their own ways, such experiences appear to be inherently subjective, whereas Paul's experience, since it came from God, appears to be objective. If christianity is true, then Paul witnessed a revelation as true as two plus two being four, and thus he became a christian. But now this begs the question – why can't we all receive such revelations?

And it is a good question, I suppose. If most of us are meant to take it on faith, why are some select few given such powerful revelations? Why are they entitled to objective truth when the rest of us have to settle for a mix of faith and detailed studies undertaken two thousand years after the fact? Blessed are we who have not seen?... I dunno, it does sound unfair but is it any different than any other kind of unfairness? Yes, the apostles allegedly had empirical evidence of God, they truly knew that Jesus was who he was claiming to be, regardless of their faith in other matters or bravery in other instances. But then again, they had their own hardships incumbent to their affiliation with Jesus. Would most of us really want the job of apostle, disciple or prophet? It is lofty but it seems like a tough job too... So it would appear that God created us in such a way that we each have our own cross to bear, which seems to suggest we were never meant to be equal, not in that sense at least. Isn't it the case that some of us are simply healthier than others, smarter than others, prettier than others, stronger than others?... Without even delving into socio-economics we find there is no equality at all. Should matters of faith then be any different?

But then again, if christianity is true, I'm sure that some atheists engaged in honest pursuits of truth would have gladly given whatever comforts they have in this life in exchange for complete assurance in the life to come. As a sidenote, this is sort of why I never quite understood religious people, because if their religion really is true then it is the greatest truth in existence, a truth from which all other truths inevitably come from, and yet, religious people, for the most part, are just so darn casual about it all... I became an atheist because I didn't think of myself that way, I wanted the truth and I always had high standards for it, I wanted a religious text to give me a religious experience, a road to Damascus moment on every single page. But if all it could give me was a bit of guidance or inspiration then I never saw it as any different than any other book. And on that I think a lot of atheists agree – more than what's soothing, what ultimately matters is what's true. So why didn't God give all of us a road to Damascus moment, thereby separating the wheat from the chaff? Yes, because I believe there would still be some chaff... If some religious people are weak in their religion then it stands to reason that some atheists are weak in their atheism as well, and thus, I don't think all of them would become christians after such a moment. And in that case I consider a weak atheism to be an atheism that isn't at all open to new evidence, because as it turns out, atheism can be dogmatic too... They might assume the revelation was just a dream and that dreams are meaningless, they might assume they ingested some kind of hallucinogenic food, they might assume they had a singular neurological happenstance similar to an epileptic attack or the like, they might even assume they were being interfered with by powerful beings from another galaxy... So would a road to Damascus moment be enough to unite the world under one single faith? Maybe not. But would it help save a whole lot of souls? I'd say yes.

And what if God did in fact perform a revelation unto the whole world, a one-off instance in which every single one of us, at the exact same time, would have heard a message understood in all of our respective languages? I guess such a thing would be coherent with the past... In the Old Testament it seemed like God was everywhere all the time, and whenever he wasn't, his absence was harshly felt. In the New Testament it was a bit more subdued, but to some people, the belief that God walked among them was as true as anything else. Yet now, in our modern day, we don't see God anywhere except perhaps in metaphors and grilled cheese sandwiches. So yes, a brief heavenly PSA would help. However... Would atheists particularly like that? Tinfoil hats aside, would they have willingly become christians? Would they have humbled themselves before God? Perhaps some would have but certainly not all. Because wouldn't such a demonstration be very orwellian indeed? The supreme, all-knowing, all-seeing creator, the great leader appearing unto all of us, demanding our love and obedience? I'm not so sure some atheists would have liked that, and I'm fairly certain that Christopher Hitchens specifically would have greatly despised it. Indeed, an atheism like Christopher's has made me realize that the fall of Lucifer and the betrayal of Judas actually make a very “real” kind of sense, even if the whole thing is fiction.

Underlying this whole Damascus thing ought to be a question of free will that I'm too ignorant to resolve. I don't know if we have free will or not, I don't know if God's existence grants us free will or denies it, I don't even know if we have free will to reject hard, empirical evidence, hell, at times I don't even know if we have the free will to quit smoking... Would it then be possible to disbelieve in God even after receiving a revelation? If not, then would such a revelation deny us free will? I don't know, I have to leave those questions to someone else. But perhaps before belief comes faith, and that might be at the heart of the question. Because certainty is a good thing, we all want it about everything, and by knowing we can know that we operate in this world. And more than just pragmatism, certainty brings us peace of mind. Thus, knowing that the world has a creator who actually cares about you is certain to bring you a whole lot of peace of mind. However, you don't know it the same way a physicist knows gravity, you don't even know God the same way Paul knew God, you only know, or claim to know, by faith... I think in many ways, at least for a while there, atheists were engaged in honest pursuits of truth, so why weren't we given any faith? Or why weren't we granted a revelation by God himself? Seek and ye shall find, right? Why do some of us just have faith without even taking religion all that seriously, whereas others have to have faith in faith, and others still are awarded no faith at all? Wouldn't it be reasonable of God to send a revelation to those of us who want to believe but are made in such a way that we just can't? Then again, are those who don't believe ready to change their minds if such a revelation ever took place? I suppose there are believers who just always believed, they never needed much effort, the religion simply suited them. Then there are believers who came to believe after much study or after a Damascus moment of their own. As for atheists, there are those whom I used to admire but now they defend beliefs I've come to find lacking, indeed they have built their system in such a way that no religion could ever be true. But there are also atheists who appear to simply not believe. Do those envy a road to Damascus moment?...

As for me, I think I do. I've come to realize that my militant atheism had an underlying envy of those people who just believe, people who didn't know their own religion as well as I did, people who never even read the book from beginning to end, people who say “my God” and mean it... Why should they, being ignorant, be granted a great truth that has been denied to me? I don't know, and I don't even know if any of this is meant to make any sense, but then again, envy is more a matter of the heart than a matter of philosophy. So, do atheists yearn for a road to Damascus moment? If they honestly do, then God's silence is mysterious, but if they don't, then there is something lacking in the rationality of atheism.