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The Mind Behind the Mindless

  • Daniel D'Innocenzo
  • Feb 10
  • 9 min read

Updated: Apr 12




Arguably the most effective argument against the existence of God is the observation of chaos in the cosmos, or put in more traditional terms, the recognition of evil in the world. This is apparent by the fact that atheists from all generations have often capitalized on this observation and used it in refutation of an argument for the existence of God: the recognition of purpose, beauty, order, and goodness in the world. The latter argument, as put forth by St. Thomas Aquinas in his fifth proof for God’s existence, asserts that: “We see that things which lack knowledge, such as natural bodies, act for an end, and this is evident from their acting always, or nearly always, in the same way, so as to obtain the best result. Hence it is plain that they achieve their end, not fortuitously, but designedly. Now whatever lacks knowledge cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence; as the arrow is directed by the archer. Therefore some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end; and this being we call God” (ST I, q. II, a. III).

This is Thomas’ way of articulating the teleological argument for God’s existence, discerning from the natural telos- the purpose or end of individual things- the Mind behind what seems to be universal, or nearly universal, design. Aquinas was by no means the first to use it. He himself credits St. John Damascene and the Muslim philosopher Averroes as others who use it. And in Cicero’s dialogue On the Nature of the Gods, the great Roman orator has the character Balbus employ it, whimsically concluding from the force of the argument that "if anyone thinks it [nature] mindless then he himself must be out of his mind"(book II).

But, asks the atheist not without some merit (thus demonstrating he is not completely out of his mind), if the acknowledgment of order in creation is credited to a divine intelligence must not the observation of apparent disorder in other aspects of the universe be evidence of a lack of intelligence behind its design? Was it not in the 18th century when the weakness of the teleological argument was identified by David Hume when he critiqued the inherent illogic of inferring from particulars the conclusion of divine design when other examples could be provided in support of a contrary conclusion (c.f. Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, Part II)? The fallacy of attributing a part to the whole? For it is clear, not all the world is acknowledged as being ordered to a purpose and hence hospitable to life; the artic regions of the north, the arid regions of the south, storms of varying destruction and onsets of horrific disease all contest to the fact that there seems to be an obvious lack of, at the very least, a beneficent Mind behind it all. At a minimum, one ought to be hesitant in outright denying the possibility of meaningless chance as an adequate explanation for the universe.  

This critique is not to be dismissed lightly- nor should it however be conceded too easily either. For there does seem to be an overwhelming amount of order in creation that would seem to necessitate an explanation for the disorder in it. Indeed, disorder can only be recognized as such because of the preponderance of evidence for order. In other words, all things, even those things that appear senseless and downright wrong in the world, it would seem in the long run must “work out for the good” in the end (c.f. Rm 8:28). To quote Chesterton: “Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; [but] good is so good, that we feel certain that evil could be explained” (The Man Who Was Thursday). Thus, those things that appear to contest the conclusion for intelligent, beneficent design at first glance may well, after some reflection, neatly fit within the paradigm of created order in the world.

In order to attempt to make a persuasive case for this position, one might call to mind something that Socrates had once articulated that it is better for a man to suffer injustice than commit it (c.f. Plato, Gorgias). What does he mean by this? Certainly, this sentiment highlights the fact that doing evil effects man negatively. It hurts his soul in a way analogous to a thrust of a sword that would hurt his body. But, could we not also assume the converse is true in Socrates’ words as well- that not only is it harmful to do harm but it is also beneficial to one's well-being to endure it? Perhaps, injustice's force is not only found in its toxic effect on the one who perpetrates it but also in its transformative effect in the one who receives it. For when it comes to the numerous injustices man must accept as he lives in this world (whether they be perpetrated against him by nature or by other moral agents) it may rightly be perceived that perhaps these evils patiently endured can serve a greater good that is not at first apparent. This is not a sadistic mindset that sees suffering as good in and of itself; rather, it is an outlook that sees beyond the apparent, recognizing endurance through suffering as the thing that enables man to flip on its head the evil and disorder this world throws at him and turn it into something that becomes of actual benefit.

Seeing things in this way allows the human mind to discern meaning in suffering. Yet, think of the tragedy that would result if one, not recognizing suffering as a gift for his benefit, simply squandered it by denying any purpose to it. It would be much like the silliness of a toddler who, given a substantive sum of money by a beneficent parent, disregards the gift on the basis that it does not immediately satisfy his need for a toy. How foolish would he be to fail to recognize the value money could afford him if put to good use. Or, even more tragic, it would be like the story of King Aegeus leaping to his premature death by not properly understanding the meaning of the black sails that were hoisted on Theseus’ ship. The message communicated by the presence of such sails was not meant to transmit the death of his son. On the contrary, the excitement of not only Theseus’ survival but his victory over the Minotaur was what caused the unfortunate son to accidently misinform his father by forgetting to hoist sails of white, thereby bringing the great king to grief. As we can see from these examples, such short-sighted reasoning leads to a child’s disregard for money- such hasty judgement is what led to King Aegeus’ premature death. We would be wise to not imitate the imprudence of both by failing to recognize the telos of human suffering. Doing so is a tragic misread of reality. 

But, is this not what we do when we entertain the idea of euthanasia? It is precisely by the love for money, which our hypothetical child lacked, where our society has been driven to pragmatically consider the economic benefit of ending the unnecessary suffering of the terminally ill and elderly; it is precisely by an unhealthy admiration of Aegeus’ suicide where our society has fostered its own desire for premature death when sorrow grows too great. All this because suffering has been emptied of meaning by the intellectual and moral rejection of design that atheism purports. Euthanasia and the enthusiasm with which it is supported is the folly of the unreflecting child, the foolish king, and the atheist being praised and imitated. In sum, euthanasia is a capitulation to the disorderly mindset that fails to see order in all things.

  Of course, the reasons given for euthanasia are never argued on such monstrous grounds. It would be too easy to persuade the average decent person not to get on board with it if it was put thus. Rather, appealing to the masses on the moral soundness of euthanasia is done in a much more delicate way. For how does one reasonably argue against the apparent compassion that is evidently shown by its proponents when they argue to mercifully end the needless injustice of a life's last bought of physical suffering- not in the fighting ring of life where vitality still has a chance- but on the mercilessly dismal deathbed where death is certainly near? How does one not sympathize with the idea that to end suffering at this point is an altogether good and that only cold-hearted idiocy makes one believe in the hallucination of suffering, especially at death, having a meaning?

For my part, I may not succeed in not being an idiot but at least I try to be a good-natured one, and I cannot help but maintain from my own perspective that euthanasia is a shallow way at viewing life and an even more shallow way at grasping death. For I simply reject the basic premise of a euthanasia supporter that says, much like the atheist, that things have no design. If the vast preponderance of the universe seems wrought through with design, albeit a design that sometimes is not at first apparent, I cannot believe that something as momentous as human suffering- a thing that pervades our entire life to some degree- does not likewise have an intended purpose. The problem is articulating what that purpose might be and persuading others to not reject it by prematurely killing their own loved ones on their deathbeds.

Fortunately, we have already tapped into the thought of Socrates that affirms there is benefit to suffering injustice- and what can be seen as more unjust than the thought of the physical suffering that precedes death. Yet, more fortunate are we that this thought seems to be a mere foreshadow of what would come 400 years after Socrates’ time when the most innocent of all men, Jesus of Nazareth, embraced the injustice of suffering as a means of perfection by obediently accepting it (c.f. Heb 5:8-9).

As by faith we Christians profess this same Jesus to not only be man but also divine, we must nonetheless acknowledge there is no need for growth in perfection in Christ (through suffering or otherwise), being as He is perfect in Himself. But, just as there was no need for Him to be made holy by the waters of baptism in the Jordan (rather He needed to make holy those same waters by His baptism according to various Church Fathers), likewise there was no need for Christ to suffer in order to be made perfect by accepting it. Rather, the mystery seems to be that by His passion human suffering becomes a perfectible event for us.

  But questions remain. How and why does suffering do this? And why must Christians stubbornly fight to preserve everyone’s opportunity to endure this all-important human reality by rejecting the easy-out of euthanasia?

A coherent meaning of physical suffering came to me by the moving testimony of my cousin who was called upon to explain it to another person at the bedside of her dying father. Why, it was asked of her, could we not end the final suffering of my uncle who it was clear was entering into his final time of earthly life? What could be lost by relieving him of such unnecessary pain?

My cousin’s response to this admittedly difficult situation was to identify a basic tenet that is held not only by Christians but all western anthropology- that man is composed of both soul and body and, while what affects the soul need not affect the body, what affects the body can, in a very real way, affect the soul. And what is needed by the soul at such a pivotal hour as death is preparation for what comes after this event. For the soul will be “placed” face to Face with God Himself, who is a “consuming fire” (Heb 12:29), perfect in Himself, who demands that nothing unclean is capable of entering into His life (c.f. Rev 21:27). Thus, what lies underneath the suffering of dying is nothing less than the perfection of spirit that necessarily accompanies it when humbly accepted; "One is approved if, mindful of God, he endures pain while suffering unjustly" (1 Pt 2:19).

For who could deny that physical suffering makes one feel utterly helpless? Suffering- especially at death- is the leveling agent that is intended to bring one to the humility necessary to see God not only as the One in control but also as the One who knows just how proud and self-reliant we really are in the depths of our hearts. In other words, the suffering of dying empowers us to repudiate within ourselves for the last time any sense of self-sufficiency that obscures our vision of God as a sovereign and loving Father who saves us because we cannot save ourselves. Suffering enables us to attain to “the holiness without which no one will see the Lord” (Heb 12:14)- it allows us to fully enter into communion with Him, and not only with Him, but with all “the spirits of just men made perfect” through suffering (Heb 12:23).

Thus, who of us, standing beside the deathbed of a loved one, can determine when he has attained such holiness? Who of us can ever judge when one is truly ready to see God? It would be nothing but pitiable if, interrupting the ongoing operation by the Divine Physician who was actively bringing about our perfection through our last death throws, we cut short the procedure before the Doctor had finished!

If the first part of Socrates’ maxim that “it is better to suffer injustice” be not persuasive enough for the non-believer to accept when it comes to the suffering of death, let him at least heed the second part that rejects any good to perpetuating injustice in any form- especially by the taking of innocent life. Either way he will, intentionally or not, be affirming there is a Mind behind matter, there is a moral law that man must follow in order to be just, there is meaning that exists underneath appearances, there is a point behind what is apparently pointless. If he does not even accept these truths, perhaps it must be admitted a enthusiast for euthanasia truly is “out of his mind” in mistaking the reality of design for nothing but meaningless injustice.  

 
 
 

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