As I've grown older, one of the things I've noticed about "atheism", in the sense of being a reaction to and argument against theism, is that it primarily based in one or two errors: circular reasoning, and straw-men arguments.

I discovered this by watching myself, and seeing how my own atheistic assumptions (which everyone, I think, carries) had colored my reading of the bible, and my theological thought.

It would be rather odd to see a man take apart a motorcycle, and pull out each part one by one, carry it over to his car, and then show it really didn't fit. The engine was the wrong size entirely. That little seat didn't make sense in a space that big, on the floor. How could such a small gas tank power such a large vehicle long enough? (Or vise-versa -- I'm not trying to link vehicle size to theological preference.)

Yet I realized, at a subtle psychological level, this is exactly what the atheist (or even a largely unreformed theist, like myself) does.

In a theistic context, it's reasonable to assume that if God may bring life into being, he also has the authority to decide when it should end. We understand this intrinsicly: if I start a computer program, I may also decide when it should end: if it should terminate normally, under which condition, or even if I should interrupt its execution.

In this sense, "God" would not be like man, who did not create his fellow creature, and thus cannot morally assert the same kind of ultimate authority.

We also understand that each of us will die at some point. In a theistic context, we would say each of us is appointed to die at some point: it is no more or less moral for God to end a life at 22 years of age by drowning than to end it at 56 by heart attack or at 91, in one's sleep.

But when we read the Old Testament story of God drowning the Egyptian army (who were pursuing the fleeing Jewish people), sometimes all that goes out the window. We suddenly forget all this, and bring our atheistic assumptions into the story. Unsurprisingly, we are then drawn, circularly, to atheistic conclusions: God is "murdering" these Egyptians! (Wouldn't he also have "murdered" them if they died at age 70?)

We also might be tempted to think God "hates" (as John Spong asserts) Egyptians, because he drowned them. Yet God kills everyone once -- not just Egyptians. The Jews all eventually died too -- just a bit later.

But had these specific soldier's lives continued, there would have been no Jewish people, and no Christianity (the very basis for Spong's own authority, ironically). And thus no science, no abolition of slavery, no hospitals, no modern medicine, etc. Their seemingly "untimely" deaths were sad necessities -- brought by their unrelenting desire to endlessly enslave another race for economic gain -- not an act of arbitrary, capricious cruelty.

Let me give another example: In the Old Testament, God is portrayed as a "jealous" God. He asks people to set up temples, and worship him and no other.

"So," the atheist reasons, "look how vain this character is! We all know someone who is constantly wanting everyone to be impressed with himself: this God fellow is so much worse! We know that jealousy is a bad trait in humans -- look at how much worse this Jehovah is! How egotistical! How relentlessly narcissistic!"

But this argument is a classic case of circular reasoning, on many different levels, each of which are predicated on the very atheistic assumptions ultimately being "proved".

First, jealousy isn't always a bad trait: it is not a sin. Take the case of a woman who has discovered her husband truly is cheating on her. Is her jealousy wrong? Of course not: her husband really did promise he would share his body with her only. She is not "coveting" what isn't hers, rather she is only wanting that to which she is rightfully entitled. But the atheist only looks at cases where jealousy is wrong, and assumes, incorrectly, it is an inherantly "sinful" emotion, or reaction to circumstances, and thus assumes God is busy sinning when he says this.

Yet if God created the universe, what would be the appropriate way to describe the God-mind's reaction to men worshipping and dedicating their lives to promoting bits of wood carved to look like snakes, birds, or malformed humans -- and treating such statues as though they were the source of our being? Especially if "he" knew that sort of behavior tended to harm them? (Indeed, people sometimes even burned their children alive as sacrifices to such wood statues.)

Wouldn't it be a rather "reasonable" response to want them to fill their head with truer ideas, and direct their religious impulse towards their actual creator, rather than scary-looking bits of wood and metal?

Second, the atheist is anthromorphizing God: treating God as though "God" were the exact same concept as a human being. When God tell us he is "jealous", he is trying to use a human concept to explain that he doesn't want us attributing the origin of the universe and our own being to a wooden statue.

(As if that were an entirely unreasonable proposition!)

Third, the atheist (or wayward theist, like myself) is assuming God is evil in order to prove God is evil. Because we are prone to short-sighted selfishness, we have been taught not to seek our own praise: generally, when we do so, we act out of bad motives, and so it is something we are taught to guard against. Also, in a theistic context, we are not the ultimate moral authority, so each should be judged against God's standards, not our own.

But what if another person -- say, Carla -- did something extremely good, and I sought praise for her? Would that be egotistical or immoral? Of course, not, because we're pretty sure my ego isn't tied up in promoting Carla. Unless she was my wife or girlfriend -- then perhaps even my desire to see another praised could be tainted.

But if God was indeed morally good, God would also be utterly, profoundly self-less, in a way which is alien to our experience. Most people assume that this means God wouldn't desire to see God praised, because that is how self-less people behave. But the other missing theistic assumption, here, is that not only has God done many good things -- like Carla, in my example above, who is worthy of public praise -- but, beyond that, God is the very source of all goodness.

Just for a moment, assume God is selfless, and that God is, somehow, a plural entity. Then you could have each member of the Godhead seeking to promote, praise, and elevate anything which is good -- including good acts by men, and, of course, the other "members" of the Godhead. And do so entirely selflessly, not out of ego, but simply becaus of love of goodness, and wanting to see goodness promoted and praised wherever it is found.

Jesus gives us an analogy to try to help us understand -- at least a little bit -- that of father and son: Jesus sought to see his Father, the creator, praised; the Father sought to see the son's honest and true statements and good acts recognized. Each promotes the other out of an unselfish motive; and yet each is promoting God's praise and goodness; and yet both are God.

Although this is hard for us to understand emotionally, we can see it almost "mathematically": a truly good God would want to be see goodness praised and promoted, and would want to see true, important facts promoted. And, if God lacked an ego, God would not be prohibited from promoting truth about God's own place in the universe. Especially if "he" knew it was important to help people he loved, like us, function right.

Which is his whole point in doing so.

My point here isn't to "prove" theism, but rather to point out that each system must be considered on its own merits, in light of its own stated assumptions.

We must not be like the man who says motorcycles can't function because he can show each motocycle part, one at a time, doesn't fit into his car anywhere. When we smuggle atheistic assumptions and values into our evaluations of bits and pieces of theism, we should not be surprised when we are led back to the exact same atheistic convictions we started with.