God on Trial: Opening Arguments in the Scientific Age
In today’s America, God is everywhere—and nowhere.
He’s etched on our currency. Quoted in political speeches. Cited in courtrooms and classrooms. Invoked during national tragedy and personal triumph. And yet, for all His cultural saturation, He remains curiously absent from the one arena that defines our age: the scientific, evidence-driven world we actually live in.
We put everything else under a microscope—why not God?
This series, God on Trial, isn’t about cheap shots or cheap faith. It’s about putting religion under the same scrutiny we apply to everything else in a post-Enlightenment world. It’s about asking, without apology: Do the claims of religion—of Christianity in particular—still hold up in an age of telescopes, DNA, climate modeling, and quantum mechanics?
Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: Most believers don't want their beliefs tested. They want them affirmed. They’ll tell you that God’s presence is something you just feel—a warmth in your chest, a certainty in your soul. They’ll say, “If you knew Him, you’d understand.”
But imagine using that logic anywhere else.
Try applying it to gravity: “If you believed in it hard enough, you wouldn’t fall.” Or to medicine: “If you had faith in this pill, the tumor would shrink.”
Science demands verification. Religion demands surrender. And in the 21st century, that difference matters more than ever.
The “God Owes Us Nothing” Dodge
When confronted with the contradictions, silence, or apparent cruelty of their deity, believers often retreat into a peculiar defense: “God owes us nothing.”
It’s meant to shut down the conversation.
Why doesn’t God stop genocide? He owes us nothing.
Why doesn’t He heal children with cancer? He owes us nothing.
Why no clear sign, no unmistakable proof? He owes us nothing.
And yet—He demands belief, obedience, worship, and love.
He commands us to follow laws on pain of eternal torture.
He tests us, we’re told, and judges us for the results of a test He designed.
So which is it? A distant creator free of obligation? Or a deeply involved moral authority issuing eternal ultimatums?
You don’t get to call Him both just and inscrutable. If God sets the rules, demands loyalty, threatens punishment, and claims to love us unconditionally, then He
owes us clarity, consistency, and yes—proof.
And here's the kicker: the burden of proof doesn’t fall on the skeptic. It falls, as it always does in any rational discourse, on the one making the claim. That’s Logic 101.
You say there is a being who created the cosmos, speaks through ancient texts, and wants a personal relationship with every soul on earth?
Great. Prove it.
Otherwise, you’re not offering truth—you’re making a demand for belief without evidence. That’s not faith. That’s intellectual extortion.
The Problem of Personal Revelation
Every religion claims its truth is self-evident to those who truly seek it. Christianity says you'll “know them by their fruits.” Muslims speak of inner peace. Mormons cite the "burning in the bosom." But if emotional affirmation is the yardstick for truth, then every competing religion is simultaneously valid—and invalid. Personal experience proves nothing but personal conviction.
In short:
you felt something. That doesn't make it real.
We don’t let feelings drive public policy—at least, we shouldn’t. Yet religion is still used to shape laws, restrict freedoms, and claim moral high ground without evidence. That’s not harmless tradition. That’s an epistemological failure with real-world consequences.
The Trial Begins
So here's what this series will explore:
- Can we separate cultural Christianity from constitutional governance?
- What happens when religious belief collides with scientific consensus?
- Is faith just a survival mechanism from our tribal past?
- Why do so many smart people still believe—and does that make it credible?
- Is morality possible without religion? (Spoiler: it is.)
This isn't a hit piece. It’s a cross-examination. Religion has shaped America for centuries, but shaping isn't the same as justifying. If we're going to build a future grounded in reason, evidence, and human dignity, then we must confront the sacred with the same candor we apply to the profane.
Because if God is to be more than a psychological comfort blanket, He must be able to stand trial.
And so, with due respect to tradition, reverence, and deeply held beliefs—
Let the trial begin.
