THE BELIEVER

THE COGITIST

Believer.

Do you believe in God?

Cogitist.

Do you believe in x?

Bel.

Huh?

Cog.

Do you believe in x?

Bel.

What do you mean?

Cog.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Bel.

I don't get it.

Cog.

I just wanted to demonstrate to you just how meaningless that question is to me.

Bel.

Ah, so you don't believe in God.

Cog.

Did I say that?

Bel.

Yes. You said it was a meaningless question.

Cog.

Ah, so I didn't say, "I don't believe in God," did I?

Bel.

So,.. you do believe in God?

Cog.

That's not what I said either, is it?

Bel.

Ok, let's start over. Do you or don't you believe in God?

Cog.

Do you or don't you believe in x?

Bel.

What are you talking about?

Cog.

Ah, now we're making some progress, aren't we?

Bel.

What do you mean?

Cog.

That's exactly what I mean.

Bel.

Oh, so we're playing something like "Who's on First?" Right?

Cog.

Well, not quite. Who was definitely on first, not x.

Bel.

You lost me.

Cog.

Where did I lose you?

Bel.

You keep mentioning x. I don't know what you're talking about when you say x.

Cog.

Ah, now we ARE making some progress, for sure. You see, I don't know what you're talking about when you say x either.

Bel.

I didn't say x, you did.

Cog.

That's right. You used a different variable, but it doesn't really matter what letter or letters you use for your variable, it amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?

Bel.

You're saying God is a variable?

Cog.

Well, sort of.

Bel.

So you believe God is a variable?

Cog.

No, no, no. What I'm saying is that you're using the letters G, o and d together, and you're pronouncing them together like one word, to refer to something, and I don't know what that something is. To me, G, o and d pronounced together is just a variable, like x, that may refer to something, I just don't know what it is you're talking about when you use the word. What do you think I mean when I ask you, "do you believe in x?"

  Bel.

Hmm. (pause) How can you not understand? Do you believe in God? What is it you don't understand?

Cog.

Perhaps I can illustrate the point.

Bel.

I wish you would.

Cog.

Well, you know how in mathematics we have these things we call constants and variables. Typically we use the italicized letter x to represent the variable and the italicized letters a, b and c to represent the constnats. For example, ax squared plus bx plus c equals zero.

When you write it out on paper, it looks like this: ax² + bx + c = 0.

If you know what the constants a, b and c are, you can solve for x. Right?

Bel.

Uh. Right.

Cog.

But if you don't know what one of the constants are, you can't solve for x. You don't know what x is. It could be just about anything depending on what the constants might be. That's why it's called a variable.

Bel.

Ok. But I don't see what this has to do with God.

Cog.

Do you believe in x?

Bel.

Uh,... Do.. I.. believe... there's a variable called x? Yeah, sure.

Cog.

You do, eh?

Bel.

Yeah.

Cog.

What is it?

Bel.

It's a variable.

Cog.

Saying it's a variable doesn't tell me what x is. What is this particular variable x that you're referring to?

Bel.

You said so yourself, it could be anything.

Cog.

You mean to tell me that you don't know what number I'm referring to when I use the variable x?

Bel.

Not without knowing what those constants a, b and c are, you said so yourself. It could be anything.

Cog.

So, you'd agree, asking you whether you believe in x is a meaningless question.

Bel.

Look, I really don't know what you're getting at. I was just interested in what you believe in. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine.

Cog.

Well, that's a very different question than the one you started out with, isn't it?

Bel.

Well, I already figured out that you don't believe in God, so what is it that you DO believe in?

Cog.

Wow. (pause) I really don't know how to respond to that one. First of all, I don't think you've really figured out that I don't believe in x, and secondly, are you assuming that a person has to believe in something? That not believing in anything is an impossibility?

Bel.

You're a nihilist.

Cog.

I don't believe that.

Bel. and Cog.

(chuckling) Bel.

You don't believe in anything then.

Cog.

I don't know.

Bel.

How can you not know whether or not you believe in something?

Cog.

I prefer to use the word "think."

Bel.

But that doesn't mean the same thing.

Cog.

Certainly not. I don't know whether or not I believe in anything. I probably don't have any control over what I DO believe and what I DON'T believe, if anything. Probably nobody has. But I can think thoughts, just like I can see sights and hear sounds. I don't think it matters whether or not I believe anything as long as I can think.

Bel.

Hmm. Wow. (pause) Uh, I don't know what to say to that. So, what do you think about God?

Cog.

What do you think about x?

Bel.

Oh, God! Here we go again!

Cog.

(laughter)

Bel.

Seriously, though. What about God?

Cog.

How many people are there on this planet? Six billion? More?

Bel.

About that.

Cog.

If you gave each one a pencil and paper, and asked them to draw a chair, assuming they all spoke English and understood what you were asking them, how many exact duplicates of a chair do you think you'd find? And I mean exact, you hold two pieces of paper together in front of a bright light and they match up exactly, how many drawings would be exactly the same?

Bel.

Probably none.

Cog.

Well, with six billion of them, I'd be willing to concede that you might get some, but not many for sure, and that's using a word that refers to something very concrete. Does the word "God" refer to something concrete or abstract?

Bel.

Well, it depends on the person, I suppose.

Cog.

Exactly. You ask six billion people to draw a picture of God and how many matches do you think you're going to get? Some people aren't going to be able to draw anything because they believe God can't be described. Some people believe God is "all that is" and there's no way they're going to be able to fit that on a piece of paper. Other people might try to draw a self portrait, and how many of those six billion people look exactly alike? And that would say nothing about their emotional and psychological profiles. And what about the characteristics of God that people can't draw? They might have specific notions about God's characteristics that differ widely from the people in their own family. So, if you ask me whether or not I believe in God, which one of those do you expect me to pick?

Bel.

You don't have to pick one of those. You just make up your own.

Cog.

Did I just hear you right?

Bel.

What? You make up your own?

Cog.

That's what I thought you said. So, let me get this straight. I use my eyes to look around. I see all sorts of sights. I listen with my ears. I hear all sorts of sounds. I touch things. I smell things. I taste things. But you want me to use my imagination to come up with one more notion, that's six billion plus one, and then once I've conjured something up from my imagination, now I'm supposed to believe that it's not my imagination but it's actually real, "out there," something that I could theoretically have seen, heard, touched, smelled and maybe tasted? You think it makes sense to believe that things I imagine are actually real?

Bel.

(words)

Cog.

(words)