Club Misery: How the godless elite let the truth slip about atheism



What do Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Bill Maher, and Ricky Gervais have in common?

If you’re the sort of person who reads HuffPost, sips oat milk lattes, and thinks everything wrong with the world boils down to white men with opinions, you probably already have your answer: privileged patriarchal monsters.

Atheism, in its purest form, is an ideology of erasure, a faith in subtraction.

But if you’re a little more honest — and a little more curious — you’ll notice something different.

These aren’t just successful men. They’re atheists — and they’re also, quite clearly, miserable.

Bill Maher

Maher is a comedian by trade, but rarely funny any more — at least not in the way that feels joyful or generous.

On "Club Random," his podcast that masquerades as freewheeling conversation, Maher talks over his guests so relentlessly that it’s become the most consistent punch line in his YouTube comments.

  • “Stop cutting them off, Bill.”
  • “Let them speak, for once.”
  • “Do you invite guests just to hear yourself talk?”

He lectures, sneers, and plays the same greatest hits week after week. He’s not sharing ideas — he’s performing superiority. You can practically feel the clenched teeth through your screen.

Richard Dawkins

Then there’s Richard Dawkins, the patron saint of Darwinian superiority, the man who turned religious skepticism into a career of scowling, condescension, and book tours.

Dawkins hasn’t smiled in public since the Cambrian explosion. He scolds believers like a substitute teacher who can’t believe anyone is still talking about God after he’s assigned the fossil chart. Every public appearance is an exercise in barely contained frustration — at creationists, at the Bible, at people who pray for the sick instead of shrugging their shoulders.

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Dawkins doesn’t merely disbelieve. He resents belief, and nothing is more exhausting than a man perpetually outraged that billions of people don’t think exactly like him.

Ricky Gervais

Some will point to Ricky Gervais as the exception.

An atheist, a comedian, a master of satire, and they’d be right — at least partly. Gervais is funny. Incredibly so. But happy? That’s another story.

Gervais has never struck me as someone content. Even in interviews, there’s a fog of irritation that never quite lifts. He’s always complaining, always nagging, always rolling his eyes at something. And while he packages the whole thing in charm and wit, the engine underneath doesn’t sound like joy. It sounds like frustration dressed up for a Netflix special.

His entire career — brilliant as it may be — has been a decades-long monologue of gripes. Yes, he makes people laugh. But the deeper source of it all feels like a man quietly suffocating on his own disbelief. If in doubt, feel free to watch his recent interview with Jimmy Kimmel, a practicing Catholic, where he spent minutes rambling about everything wrong with himself and the world — his body, his brain, society, death.

Funny? Sure, but also bleak. The laughter lands, but the undertow is pure despair.

And then there’s "After Life," his hit Netflix show. Lauded for its honesty, praised for its emotion. But look closely, and what you see isn’t fiction; it’s confession. A man mourning his wife’s passing, clinging to sarcasm like a flotation device in a sea of grief. It’s gulag humor without the bars — just a soulless bloke with a dog and a sharp tongue, cracking jokes to keep the walls from closing in.

Gervais is playing himself. "After Life" isn’t just a comedy — it’s an atheist’s eulogy.

Sam Harris

Gervais' close friend Sam Harris is no better.

Before he was consumed by Trump derangement syndrome, he was a sharp mind who took a blowtorch to radical Islam. Harris positioned himself as the cold, rational surgeon cutting through sacred narratives full of hate and delusion.

But even then, the man radiated pessimism. There was always an oddness to him — like he was describing humanity from orbit, distant and curiously detached.

These days, it’s worse. His permanent frown, his stilted delivery, his fixation on Trump supporters as if they’re some primitive tribe to be studied under glass — it all screams anxiety, not authority. He doesn’t project clarity. He projects burden. Every podcast, every essay, every panel feels like another brick in a bunker of airtight, joyless "reasoning" — sealed off from awe, from beauty, from anything resembling peace.

No comfort. No transcendence. No light. Just a man methodically dismantling meaning while sounding more drained with each attempt. Harris whispers meditations and mouths moral truths, all while insisting there’s no divine author behind any of it.

Christopher Hitchens

Even the great Christopher Hitchens — brilliant in so many ways — died with a cigarette in one hand, a scotch in the other, and a rage against the God he claimed didn’t exist.

Hitchens was a man of genuine intellect and rhetorical firepower. He could dazzle a room into silence. He could devastate an opponent with a single line. Joy, however, was never part of the package. The Brit burned hot, but never warm. His wit wasn’t rooted in love. It was weaponized. He didn’t laugh with you; he laughed at the absurdity of the world and often at the people trying to find meaning in it.

RELATED: Neil deGrasse Tyson tries to mock Christianity — but exposes his own ignorance instead

His takedowns of Mother Teresa, of Henry Kissinger, of religion itself — they were theater, yes. But they were also therapy. They came from a place of deep unrest. His war wasn’t just with belief systems but with the very structure of consolation. The human need for mercy, for absolution, for something sacred. He couldn’t tolerate it, maybe because he wanted it too much.

Atheism didn’t bring him peace. It gave him license to rage: to reject sentiment, spit on tradition, and scorn the spiritual longings of billions.

He could speak for hours. But when it came to rest — to true stillness — he had none.

The problem with atheism

The problem with modern atheism isn’t just lack of belief. It’s that it builds identity around lack itself, around the removal of things. Strip away God, strip away the soul, strip away metaphysics, strip away teleology, and what’s left isn’t freedom — it’s vacancy.

Atheism, in its purest form, is an ideology of erasure, a faith in subtraction. And subtraction, no matter how eloquently defended, is not a place from which joy can grow.

It is, however, a place from which misery flourishes. Consciousness gets recast as a glitch, morality as adaptive behavior. Love? A chemical bribe from nature. Everything that once lifted the human soul now gets filed under "illusion."

And illusions, we’re told, are best destroyed.

RELATED: How atheism created a terrorist — but his bomb shattered secularism's illusions

But here’s the truth atheists ignore: You cannot build a life — let alone a civilization — on negation. You cannot inspire the heart with “there is no God,” no matter how clever the phrasing. You can’t raise a child on “nothing matters” and expect the child to thrive. You can’t look into the eyes of someone dying and offer neurons as comfort.

This public face of atheism — the podcast hosts, the viral thinkers, the smug Substack intellectuals — don’t sell joy. They sell despair dressed up as clarity. They tell you that meaning is a delusion, that your suffering has no higher context, that the love you feel is just your DNA playing dress-up. They perform autopsies on transcendence, then wonder why their audiences walk away spiritually numb.

Humans don’t just crave truth. They crave belonging, direction, awe, and something to serve that isn’t themselves.

Atheism offers none of that. It hands you a mirror and tells you it’s a map — and then it dares you to walk in circles and calls it freedom.

The lie that launched a thousand riots



For decades, academic leaders insisted on "neutrality" when it came to life’s most important questions — whether God exists, what defines the highest good, and how to live a virtuous life. But that neutrality was always a ruse. Now the roof is caving in.

In Los Angeles, rioters burn police cars, wave foreign flags, and earn praise from elected officials who call them “peaceful demonstrators.” These aren’t isolated incidents. They reflect the long-term effects of a philosophy cultivated on campus and subsidized by taxpayers.

The neutrality myth has run its course. The wolves are no longer pretending to be sheep.

The recent unrest didn’t appear out of nowhere. It’s the predictable bloom of a poisonous seed — one we let grow under the false belief that the First Amendment demands silence in the face of subversion. It doesn’t. And this strategy from America’s enemies didn’t begin last week. It’s been unfolding for decades.

Attacking the American order

Arizona State University, the nation’s largest public university, offers a snapshot of the broader national crisis. It imports professors from elite graduate programs and churns out activist graduates steeped in a worldview that condemns the United States as irredeemably evil.

Look at the student organizations ASU endorses — like MEChA, whose stated mission reads like a political ultimatum:

“[We] devote ourselves to ending settler colonialism, anti-Black racism, heteronormativity, borders and prisons because our liberation does not exist until these legacies of colonization are abolished.”

In 2024, ASU suspended the campus chapter of the far-left Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán — and only suspended them — after the group declared, “Death to the ‘Israeli’ entity! Death to the ‘American’ entity! Long live Palestine! Long live Turtle Island!”

("Turtle Island" refers to a Native American creation myth that North and Central America rest on the back of a giant turtle.)

Despite the suspension, MEChA remains listed as an active club on campus. The group still enjoys faculty support.

This isn’t about revising reading lists or replacing Shakespeare with indigenous poetry. “Decolonizing the curriculum” masks a much larger goal: revolution. This is a coalition of radicals — communists, LGBTQ+ activists, pro-Mexico nationalists, anti-Semitic “Free Palestine” organizers, land acknowledgment militants, and Islamist groups like the Council on American-Islamic Relations — who align not because they share values, but because they share a target: the American constitutional order and its Christian foundations.

And yet naïve liberals and sentimental Christians often fall for the rhetoric. These groups invoke empathy, community, and sacrificial love — virtues rooted in the Christian tradition. But they weaponize those virtues. They wear sheep’s clothing to cloak their wolfish designs.

Rather than reform through representation, they aim to abolish representative government entirely. They don’t seek equality before God; they demand a transfer of power — to a Native tribe, to Mexico, or to some vague utopia where oppression has been deconstructed out of existence and LGBTQ sex litters every street corner.

That may sound absurd. It is. Mexico, after all, functions under cartel rule and bleeds citizens who risk everything to escape. But revolutions don’t require coherence. Absurdity often accelerates them. These movements aren’t governed by logic or principle. They run on resentment — the fury of those who believe life cheated them.

What the moment demands is moral clarity. That begins with rejecting the lie of neutrality.

Neutral education is a lie

A “neutral” education doesn’t exist. Every curriculum is built on a view of the “good life.” Every professor teaches from a vision of what humans are and what we are meant for. When we allowed universities to abandon the pursuit of wisdom and virtue — to stop teaching that God created us and that our rights come from him — we didn’t establish neutrality. We created a vacuum — and radicals rushed in to fill it.

As a professor, I’ve seen firsthand how godless academics wield the First Amendment as both shield and sword. They argue that “free speech” protects those who seek to dismantle the very system that guarantees that right, while insisting those same protections exclude Christian ideas from the classroom.

But the Constitution doesn’t require taxpayers to subsidize sedition. Nothing compels a university to hire professors who publicly call for the abolition of the American republic.

RELATED: Academia fuels the fire that torched Jewish grandmothers in Boulder

  Photo by Jacek Boczarski/Anadolu via Getty Images

This isn’t about banning ideas. People can believe whatever they want. But taxpayers shouldn’t be forced to underwrite the education of young Americans in philosophies that teach them their country is an imperial cancer.

If a professor wants to advocate abolishing the United States, let him do it honestly. Declare it on the syllabus. Reject public funding. And stop pretending any of this qualifies as neutral education.

A little truth in advertising would go a long way. Imagine just a few basic reforms.

Preparation: Professors should demonstrate a grasp of foundational truths — about God, goodness, virtue, wisdom, and the greatness of the U.S. Constitution. Anyone who denies these basics has no business teaching at a taxpayer-funded institution. Private universities exist for that. Once upon a time, American universities valued this knowledge, often requiring courses in natural theology for all students.

Transparency: Require state-employed professors to disclose if their courses promote a political or ideological agenda — especially one hostile to the principles on which this country was founded.

Accountability: Tie public funding to standards that reflect the values of the citizens footing the bill. That includes respect for the rule of law, representative government, and the God-given rights enshrined in the Declaration of Independence and Constitution.

Reform: Restore universities that teach what used to be obvious — that God is our Creator and knowing Him is the highest good of human life. State dollars come with strings. Those strings should include love of God and country.

That last point may sound idealistic, but it’s far more grounded than the utopian fantasies now taught with your tax dollars. It takes human nature seriously. It acknowledges the need for redemption, the pursuit of virtue and wisdom, and the moral order built into creation.

It’s time for students, parents, donors, governors, pastors — and yes, President Donald Trump — to recognize what the Los Angeles riots truly represent: not just political unrest, but philosophical collapse. The neutrality myth has run its course. The wolves are no longer pretending to be sheep. They’re outside your child’s classroom, dressed in regalia, holding a metaphorical Molotov cocktail.

Enough pretending. The time for reform has come.

How atheism created a terrorist — but his bomb shattered secularism's illusions



Last month, a 25-year-old named Guy Edward Bartkus set off a bomb at American Reproductive Centers, an IVF clinic in Palm Springs, California. Four people were injured, and the FBI said that Bartkus was killed in the blast that tore through the building.

Akil Davis, assistant director of the FBI Los Angeles field office, called it “the largest bombing scene that we’ve had in Southern California.”

Without any standard, we should not be surprised when man begins to act like the animal that secular atheism claims he is.

Though the clinic endured heavy damage and a nearby car was crumpled in a burned heap, Dr. Maher Abdallah, who leads the clinic, said that no eggs or embryos were harmed.

“Thank God today happened to be a day that we have no patients,” said Abdallah. “We are heartbroken to learn that this event claimed a life and caused injuries, and our deepest condolences go out to the individuals and families affected. Our mission has always been to help build families, and in times like these, we are reminded of just how fragile and precious life is. In the face of this tragedy, we remain committed to creating hope — because we believe that healing begins with community, compassion, and care.”

Abdallah’s view of life stands in stark contrast to the bomber’s, as the FBI has confirmed this was an intentional act of terrorism spurred by his ideological position.

In an online manifesto, Bartkus said he was a “pro-mortalist.” Pro-mortalism is the belief that death is better than life and is supposedly motivated by the desire to end suffering.

It is related to anti-natalism, or efilism, as Bartkus called it, which is the belief that it is morally evil to have children.

His manifesto shows that Bartkus viewed humans as parasitic to the planet and other life forms. He also showed a hatred toward religion and God, stating that he preferred Satan over God.

Though he is being called a nihilist, Bartkus saw a difference between his views and nihilism, saying that “religion is retarded but there is objective value in the universe and it lies in the harm being experienced by sentient beings.”

Bartkus also said that “we need a war against pro-lifers.”

He referred to a friend he called “Sophie,” who allegedly had recently committed suicide, and that the two of them had agreed that if one died, the other would also die soon after. He claimed that they both had borderline personality disorder.

In an audio recording, he said that he was committing the attack because “it just comes down to I’m angry that I exist and that, you know, nobody got my consent to bring me here” and “I’m very against [IVF], it’s extremely wrong. These are people who are having kids after they’ve sat there and thought about it. How much more stupid can it get?”

How did we get here?

Though the philosophies to which Bartkus ascribed are not commonly known, they are gaining popularity, even being taught in university courses and recently being platformed by outlets such as the New Yorker.

I believe that these philosophies are not new, but are the logical progression of secular atheism and a society that increasingly is entitled, despises religion, and sees no meaning in life.

Our culture has been systematically stripped of its religious and moral values and our very foundation for what makes life meaningful.

When you tell people from the time they are children that the universe is an accident, life is hopeless, and that man, who is no different from animals, is a parasite destroying the planet, you cannot then expect that they will grow into happy and fulfilled people.

When you lie to people daily that we are in imminent peril of a man-made climate cataclysm that will destroy ourselves and all life on Earth because we are selfish and use fossil fuels, you should expect that at least some of them will begin to believe you.

When you champion the idea that the only life that has value is one free of suffering and promote euthanasia as a solution, you should not be shocked when young people act on such an idea and seek not only to kill themselves and the unborn but to harm those who would bring life into the world.

The reality is that secular atheism — with its desire to eliminate God and any objective morality and meaning grounded in religion — has effectively doomed mankind. All secularism has to offer is: “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

Unfortunately, that isn’t enough, as most people will still seek meaning and purpose. And many will still find that all the supposed fun to be had doesn’t outweigh the hardships and suffering in life.

Without any standard, we should not be surprised when man begins to act like the animal that secular atheism claims he is.

What is the answer to the questions of life, meaning, and suffering?

In short, thankfulness — not thankfulness alone, but thankfulness to God.

G.K. Chesterton — the great author, philosopher, and apologist of the 19th and early 20th centuries — discussed this idea throughout his life, but I want to focus on what he said near the end of his life in his autobiography. You can read the book for free here.

In the final chapter, entitled “The God with the Golden Key,” Chesterton wrote that the “chief idea of my life” was “the idea of taking things with gratitude, and not taking things for granted.”

From his childhood, Chesterton said he had an almost “violently vivid sense of those two dangers; the sense that the experience must not be spoilt by presumption or despair.”

"To take a convenient tag out of my first juvenile book of rhymes, I asked through what incarnations or prenatal purgatories I must have passed, to earn the reward of looking at a dandelion," he wrote. "But in substance what I said about the dandelion is exactly what I should say about the sunflower or the sun, or the glory which (as the poet said) is brighter than the sun. The only way to enjoy even a weed is to feel unworthy even of a weed."

Chesterton noted two other perspectives on the dandelion: that of the pessimist, who saw the dandelion as meaningless, and the “offensive optimist,” who complained by comparing the dandelion to what one may find elsewhere.

He reasoned that such comparisons are “ultimately based on the strange and staggering heresy that a human being has a right to dandelions; that in some extraordinary fashion we can demand the very pick of all the dandelions in the garden of Paradise; that we owe no thanks for them at all and need feel no wonder at them at all; and above all no wonder at being thought worthy to receive them. Instead of saying, like the old religious poet, ‘What is man that Thou carest for him, or the son of man that Thou regardest him?’ we are to say like the discontented cabman, ‘What’s this?’ or like the bad-tempered Major in the club, ‘Is this a chop fit for a gentleman?’”

Chesterton said that younger generations had developed a sense of entitlement to their “right to happiness” and “right to life,” all while claiming that there was no divine source for those rights.

Chesterton responded by saying that rights “came from where the dandelion came from; and that they will never value either without recognizing its source.”

Life includes suffering, but that doesn’t mean it is without meaning or that it isn’t worth living.

He added, “And in that ultimate sense uncreated man, man merely in the position of the babe unborn, has no right even to see a dandelion; for he could not himself have invented either the dandelion or the eyesight.”

Secular atheism, he argued, logically leads to the types of despairing philosophies that Bartkus ascribed to, which undermine the beauty of life.

“When first it was even hinted that the universe may not be a great design, but only a blind and indifferent growth, it ought to have been perceived instantly that this must for ever forbid any poet to retire to the green fields as to his home, or to look at the blue sky for his inspiration,” Chesterton stated.

"There would be no more of any such traditional truth associated with green grass than with green rot or green rust; no more to be recalled by blue skies than by blue noses amputated in a freezing world of death," he wrote. "When there is no longer even a vague idea of purposes or presences, then the many-colored forest really is a rag-bag and all the pageant of the dust only a dustbin. We can see this realization creeping like a slow paralysis over all those of the newest poets who have not reacted towards religion. Their philosophy of the dandelion is not that all weeds are flowers; but rather that all flowers are weeds. Indeed it reaches to something like nightmare; as if Nature itself were unnatural."

Chesterton did not mean that everything in life is always pleasant or beautiful, but that overall, life is a gift from God.

Life includes suffering, but that doesn’t mean it is without meaning or that it isn’t worth living.

But the only way for life to have meaning, or to make sense of the troubles in life, is through God.

The way forward

I sympathize with those who have been failed by the secular philosophers, teachers, politicians, and other “experts” who have given them nothing to look forward to but suffering.

I am a man who has suffered little but does not suffer well. I understand why people like Bartkus feel as though they wish they had never been born. In their worldview, there truly is nothing to give them hope through life’s toils and tribulations.

But for the Christian, there is always meaning, purpose, and hope.

And when one becomes a Christian, it is with the knowledge that we do not deserve anything but God’s wrath for eternity. The key to life is understanding this and knowing that every good thing we experience is the result of God’s grace.

I share with you an anecdote from the 18th-century preacher Matthew Henry that has helped me when I have been suffering.

Henry was on his way home one night when he was robbed. That night Henry wrote in his journal:

I thank Thee first because I was never robbed before; second, because although they took my purse, they did not take my life; third, although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth, because it was I who was robbed and not I who robbed.

As a Christian, there is always something to be thankful to God for — even if in the moment it doesn’t seem like it.

To avoid future tragedies like that of Guy Edward Bartkus, let us endeavor even more to counter the lies of secularism and our pro-death culture with the truth and hope of Jesus Christ and to teach people that peace and happiness will only come from humbly thanking God for every good gift He chooses to bestow on us.

This article is adapted from an essay originally published at Liberty University's Standing for Freedom Center.

What Went Wrong in ‘Jordan Peterson vs 20 Atheists’

Jordan Peterson professes to be an expert on Christianity but doesn't believe in Jesus — in fact, the only higher authority he seems to recognize is himself.

Charlie Kirk exposes the moral rot at Cambridge in a devastating exchange



Charlie Kirk has done something few public figures attempt: For the past decade, he has toured American university campuses and taken unscripted questions from students. In the process, he has exposed the intellectual rot at the heart of the modern academy. Most students come prepared not with arguments but with slogans — recycled from gender studies lectures and Ibram X. Kendi reading groups. What’s missing is actual critical thinking, the very trait these institutions pretend to cultivate.

Kirk recently brought his project to the United Kingdom, with similarly revealing results. At the storied Cambridge Union on May 19, he debated students and fielded questions from the audience. The encounter didn’t showcase the vitality of one of Christendom’s oldest universities. It exposed its decline. What stood out wasn’t the strength of Cambridge’s intellectual tradition but its weakness — the spectacle of a self-assured student, brimming with elite self-regard, being outmatched by an American who never earned a degree.

Kirk delivered the mortal blow: A child has more wisdom than a Cambridge student.

Once upon a time, the Cambridge student who wanted to “challenge the system” or “speak truth to power” might have supported William Tyndale in translating the Bible into English — an act that cost him his life. Or perhaps he would have taken pride in the legacy of John Eliot, a fellow Cambridge alumnus who crossed the Atlantic, entered the wilderness, and ministered to the Algonquin. Eliot invented a written form of their language, translated the Bible into it, and sent a copy back to Cambridge — confident the university would take pride in such a feat. His was the first Bible printed in the American colonies.

Those days are gone.

No God, no goodness

In the recent debate, former Cambridge Union President Sammy McDonald didn’t use his platform to pursue truth. He used it to mock the Christian faith. While Kirk’s Christianity is no secret, McDonald’s contempt was likely aimed at specific claims Kirk made during the event — that life begins at conception and that monogamous, heterosexual marriage benefits society. In today’s academic climate, such positions qualify as heresy. The punishment is no longer martyrdom (not yet) but smug derision.

In that context, Kirk performed a public service for Cambridge and the world. McDonald stands as a warning of what students too often become when shaped by today’s academic regime: clever but foolish, hostile to God, Christ, and Christianity, and armed with a brittle moral confidence unsupported by any coherent view of good and evil.

One of the most painful moments of the debate came when McDonald revealed he didn’t know what “genocide” or “ethnic cleansing” meant. His tactic was simple and dishonest: accuse Charlie Kirk of endorsing atrocities without a shred of evidence, then use the rest of his time to condemn those atrocities as evil. It’s a lazy maneuver — a rhetorical sleight of hand — and emblematic of the intellectual decay at the Cambridge Union.

Worse, McDonald offered no coherent explanation for why anything is evil. His only moral compass seemed to be a vague intuition that suffering is bad. But where did that intuition come from? He professed concern for innocent children killed in Gaza, yet never acknowledged the mass slaughter of unborn children in his own country. That’s not moral reasoning. That’s hypocrisy. And one wonders why a Cambridge education failed to help him see it.

The problem of abundance

Kirk, by contrast, praised Great Britain for its civilizational legacy and urged students to reclaim it. When asked why wealthy societies tend to abandon monogamous marriage, Kirk’s answer cut to the heart of the issue: Once a society stops needing to delay gratification — once comfort becomes the norm and abundance replaces sacrifice — moral decay follows. Without a transcendent order grounded in the creator, collapse becomes not just possible but likely. Even before collapse, citizens lose their footing. Anxiety and misery take hold.

It was an odd question, really, since the dominant theme among leftist students is that wealth corrupts and the rich are inherently evil. And yet they seem eager to imitate the decadence of affluent societies rather than return to the moral clarity of more modest times.

McDonald’s moral confidence boils down to a single assertion: Suffering is bad. He has hollowed out anything transcendent. When Kirk affirmed that there are good guys and there are bad guys, McDonald scoffed, accusing him of holding childish morality.

Then, Kirk delivered the mortal blow: A child has more wisdom than a Cambridge student. And that’s what Kirk puts on display time and again: University students do not know what is clear.

RELATED: Charlie Kirk is not wrong about birth control

  Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

When Kirk spoke of truth, beauty, and goodness, the students stared blankly, as if they had heard ancient words but had forgotten what they meant. To borrow from Johnny Cash, “They say they want the kingdom, but they don’t want God in it.” Like Richard Dawkins, such students want the benefits of Christian culture but without Christ.

That tells us nearly everything. Students like McDonald study among the crumbling stones of a university built on Christian foundations — a place that once trained minds in piety, theology and the Great Commission. The Physics Department at Cambridge still bears the words of Psalm 111:2 above its door: “The works of the Lord are great; sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.” But reverence has given way to signaling, posturing, and progressive clichés. Today’s mission is not to spread the gospel but to promote the sexual politics of Alfred Kinsey — and to call that “progress.”

In his final moments, McDonald grasped for a rhetorical flourish and accused Kirk of having betrayed America — a country McDonald, bizarrely, claimed to admire. After the applause, Kirk delivered the final blow: “The difference is, when we get our way, we’ll still have a country. You’ll be living in a third-world hellhole.”

It was a moment of historical symmetry: the smug redcoat realizing, too late, that the ragtag colonials had just won.

A call to return

If “loving America” means gutting its Christian foundation and moral clarity, young Mr. McDonald can keep his affection to himself. No means no.

Cambridge should reclaim its former glory. As Kirk rightly observed, the United Kingdom has become a husk of what it once was. This was once the land of Bible translators, of scholars who believed every reader deserved Scripture in their own language — and the education to understand it and live by it. On that foundation, England abolished slavery and carried Christian morality across the globe in pursuit of the Great Commission.

Short of revival, Kirk has performed a necessary service. Just as he has done for American families, he has now done for English ones: exposed the ignorance of the modern university. He’s held up a mirror so that every parent might ask, honestly and urgently, whether a diploma is worth the price of their child’s soul.

Where the Jordan Peterson vs. atheists 'Jubilee' debate went wrong



The internet is ablaze with clips of the recent “Jubilee” debate between Jordan Peterson and 20 atheists — and many on the right are criticizing Peterson for his answers to the theological questions presented.

However, BlazeTV host Allie Beth Stuckey doesn’t believe the clips circulating on social media actually reflect Peterson’s performance.

“There were some things that he answered that I thought were really good, that I would affirm and say as well, and then there were other things that I’m like, ‘That is not at all the Christian perspective,’” Stuckey says on “Relatable.”

Peterson made four claims that the atheists were supposed to be contending with. The first claim is that “atheists reject God, but they don’t know what they’re rejecting.”


While the atheists took a major issue with this assertion, Stuckey believes they misunderstood Peterson’s point.

“Jordan did not actually claim that you can never reject that which you don’t understand. That’s not what he said. That’s what this atheist is assuming that he meant by his claim,” Stuckey says, explaining that instead, Peterson “claimed that atheists specifically reject that which they don’t understand, not that no one can reject anything that they don’t understand.”

Peterson’s second claim is that “morality and purpose can’t be found within science.”

“Maybe it’s too far to say the implication is that morality and purpose have to be from God — I would say Christianity — not just from any supernatural entity. But that seems to be the implication here,” Stuckey says. “And actually, the implication is what most of the debaters are debating against. And maybe that’s their error, or it's a safe assumption.”

One atheist attempted to make the point that morality can’t come from Christianity, as slavery was depicted in the Bible. He also claimed that slavery ended because humans “evolved,” to which Peterson fired back, “The reason we evolved, so to speak, away from slavery was because the West was founded on Judeo-Christian morality and the presumption that every person was made in the image of God, and so slavery itself became immoral.”

“I liked the last part of Jordan Peterson’s answer there, because he is absolutely right,” Stuckey says, before diving into Peterson’s third claim — that “everyone worships something, including atheists.”

This part of the debate has gone the most viral, as an atheist named Danny, whom Stuckey calls “Reddit Timothee Chalamet,” did not appear to be arguing in good faith. Rather than really getting to the heart of the debate, he spoke over Peterson and focused on seemingly irrelevant points.

“Danny is probably trying to argue, in the same way, atheists attend to and prioritize certain things, but they don’t worship them,” Stuckey says, adding, “As a Protestant, I would say, ‘No, that is worship.’”

Peterson’s last claim is that “atheists accept Christian morality; they just deny the religious foundation of Christian morality,” which Stuckey agrees with.

“I actually think that Jordan Peterson did a lot better than some critics on social media are saying,” she says. “I enjoyed watching it, and it made me think myself, and I always welcome the opportunity to think more deeply about my faith and why I believe what I believe.”

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Did science kill God? How the 'Big Bang' actually disproves atheism



In the modern West, “scientific proof” is considered the gold standard for separating truth from falsehood. The popular belief is that if you don’t have scientific proof of something, then it doesn’t exist or is just a matter of subjective opinion.

This is a viewpoint known as "scientism," which holds that “science” is the only (or the best) means of discovering truth.

'The entire universe is balanced on a knife-edge and would be total chaos if any of the natural "constants" were off even slightly.'

But there are many truths about the world that are outside the realm of science. For example:

• Philosophical truths (such as the laws of logic)
• Moral truths (murder is an evil act)
• Historical truths (Columbus set sail in 1492 to discover a sea route to Asia)
• Aesthetic truths (sunsets are beautiful)

So when it comes to providing reasons to believe that God exists, we need not limit ourselves to scientific evidence.

We can appeal, for example, to the existence of objective morality (as C.S. Lewis did in "Mere Christianity"), to religious experience, or to Jesus’ resurrection from the dead.

Nonetheless, there is powerful scientific evidence that points to God’s existence, and we’ll discuss two lines of this evidence below.

One final caveat before we proceed relates to the term "proof." Merriam-Webster defines proof as evidence that “compels acceptance by the mind of a truth or a fact.” This is the everyday meaning of "proof," in the sense of demonstrating something beyond any doubt.

It’s important to note, however, that science is unable to provide this level of assurance. As the philosopher Karl Popper famously argued, scientific theories can’t ultimately be proven or confirmed because other theories and observations may arise later that explain a phenomenon better. Thus, most leading scientists today recognize that scientific explanations are always provisional and may be modified or replaced in the future.

This is important to understand because science always deals with probabilities rather than proof. Some piece of scientific evidence can point to God’s existence and make it more probable, but scientific evidence can’t conclusively demonstrate that God exists. It’s simply beyond the purview of science to give us definitive proof about anything.

The evidence we’ll discuss below provides solid reasons to believe that God exists, but it can’t prove beyond any doubt that God exists. Science is incapable of reaching that high bar.

The existence of the universe

The most widely accepted account of how the universe came into existence is the standard Big Bang model. Based on a number of different scientific observations, physicists have concluded that the universe sprang into existence out of nothing about 14 billion years ago.

The most immediate question that comes to mind in light of this account is: Who or what caused the Big Bang?

Significantly, the standard model holds that all space, matter, energy, and time suddenly came into existence — from nothing — with the Big Bang. This means that whatever brought the Big Bang about is beyond space and time, immaterial, personal (this being made a decision to create), and unbelievably powerful. Of course, this is an excellent description of many of the attributes of God.

Who else but God could have brought a universe into being?

Some scientists have proposed alternative scenarios seemingly designed to avoid an absolute beginning of the universe, but none have proven persuasive enough to replace the standard model. While scientific theories, as we’ve noted, are always subject to change, the Big Bang as currently understood certainly points to the existence of God.

The fine-tuning of the universe

Although the fact that the universe exists at all is remarkable, another fascinating aspect of the universe is that it is fine-tuned for the existence of life.

Some examples include:

The strength of gravity: The strength of gravity is determined by the gravitational constant. If gravity were significantly stronger, stars would burn out much faster, leaving less time for life to develop. On the other hand, if gravity were much weaker, stars might not form at all, preventing the creation of essential elements for life.

The cosmological constant: This constant relates to the expansion speed of the universe. If it were just a little bit larger, the universe would have expanded too rapidly for galaxies and stars to form. Conversely, if it were smaller, the universe might have collapsed back on itself before life had a chance to emerge.

The strong nuclear force: This force holds together the protons and neutrons in an atom’s nucleus. If it were slightly weaker, protons and neutrons wouldn’t stick together, making complex atoms impossible. Without complex atoms, the chemical diversity necessary for life wouldn’t exist. If it were stronger, protons could potentially bind to each other more readily, which could lead to a universe without stable hydrogen, an essential element for life.

The size and distance of the Earth from the sun: Earth’s position in the solar system is in what scientists call the "Goldilocks Zone," where it’s not too hot and not too cold, allowing for liquid water to exist on its surface. The size of Earth also ensures that it has the right gravity to retain an atmosphere suitable for life without being too strong to inhibit the mobility of organisms.

Those unfamiliar with the evidence for fine-tuning will sometimes claim that it’s a concept held only by Christians or theists. Yet, scientists who claim no religious affiliation or are openly agnostic or atheist acknowledge this fact about the universe.

Fred Hoyle, an eminent physicist and agnostic, stated, “A commonsense interpretation of the facts suggests that a super intellect has monkeyed with physics, as well as chemistry and biology, and that there are no blind forces worth speaking about in nature.” In his book "A Brief History of Time," the late Stephen Hawking wrote, “The remarkable fact is that the values of these numbers seem to have been very finely adjusted to make possible the development of life.” Physicist P.C.W. Davies, also religiously unaffiliated, insists that “the entire universe is balanced on a knife-edge, and would be total chaos if any of the natural ‘constants’ were off even slightly.”

The existence and fine-tuning of numerous constants and parameters of the universe is unexpected and mysterious if naturalism is true. But it makes perfect sense if Christianity is true, and God desired to create beings He could have a relationship with.

Although acknowledging the provisional nature of science, there are good scientific reasons to believe that God exists, and these reasons seem to grow stronger the more we learn about the universe.

This article is adapted from a post that originally appeared on the Worldview Bulletin Substack.

Can religion REALLY predict your VOTE?



Questions regarding whether or not America is still a religious country have been circulating for years, and political science professor Ryan Burge believes he may have some answers.

In a General Social Survey Burge shared that spans from 1988 to 2022, the share of Americans who “believe in God without a doubt” has dropped across all political ideologies — but one more than others.

In 1988, 66% of Republicans believed in God without a doubt, and in 2022, that number dropped to 63%. For independents, the number was 59% but dropped to 51%. However, when it comes to godlessness, Democrats take the cake.


Beginning at 63% in 1988, only 39% of Democrats in 2022 reported believing in God without a doubt.

“What we’ve seen more and more over the last 25 years is that God gap has really sorted itself out now, where the Republican Party is definitely the party of religious people, and the Democratic Party has become the party of a couple different groups,” Burge tells Stu Burguiere on “Stu Does America.”

“The Republican Party has stayed relatively white and Christian. It’s still 75% white Christians today. The Democratic Party, however, is 45% nonreligious now and only about 35% white Christians,” he explains, adding, “In some ways, the Republican Party looks like what America looked like 30 or 40 years ago.”

While Republicans have held strong to their belief in God, what’s happened over the past few decades indicates a serious shift for all Americans regarding their priorities.

“For a long time in political science, we used to think that religion was first and politics lived downstream of that. So you know, your church, your pastor, the pope, your theology, taught you who to vote for, and then you voted for that candidate,” Burge says.

“What we’re realizing more and more now, is that people pick their church based on their politics. So politics is first, and religion lives downstream of politics. So whether someone chooses to go to an evangelical church or a Catholic mass or no religion at all, that’s really a political calculation,” he continues.

“People are going to pick a house of worship that aligns with their politics, you know, how they see the political world,” he adds.

Stu is not thrilled by what he’s hearing.

“This strikes me as very bad,” he comments.

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Atheists talk tough, but even they can't deny this inconvenient truth



It is widely accepted in the Western world today that morality is relative.

People who say this usually mean that morality is a matter of personal or cultural sentiment that has no objective basis in reality. Many modern people tend to think of the physical world as consisting of matters of fact (it’s not relative whether water is H2O), but of morality as being a matter of subjective opinion.

If we accept the modern, secular story of the world, this is a natural belief. If there is no higher authority on moral issues than individual or group opinion, then moral judgments are indeed subjective. Further, if the naturalistic story is true, and all that exists are matter and energy governed by natural laws, then good and evil are illusory concepts with no basis in reality.

After all, no material thing has the property of being good or evil; there are no good or evil atoms or molecules. Thus, neither good nor evil exists. Yes, one could have ideas about good and evil on this view, but they wouldn’t be any different from ideas about unicorns or leprechauns — none of these, in reality, would exist.

Many nonbelievers, when presented with this observation, will typically say something like, “I don’t have to be religious to know right from wrong,” or “Lots of atheists are good people,” or “Christians do so many evil things.” We can agree with all of these statements, but they miss the point that naturalism undermines any basis for objective moral values and duties.

The key word here is objective, meaning something that exists or is true regardless of what any person or group of people believes about it. Even if every person in an ancient culture believed that human sacrifice was a good and necessary practice, they would still be objectively wrong — that is, if an objective standard of morality exists. And the only plausible candidate for such an objective standard is God, whose very nature determines what is good.

'The religious fundamentalists are correct: Without God, there is no morality.'

Many who hold to a naturalistic worldview have never thought through its logical implications, especially in relation to morality. A number of leading naturalistic thinkers, though, have recognized and acknowledged that morality and naturalism are incompatible. This doesn’t mean that they became outlaws in their personal lives, but they certainly had to confront the cognitive dissonance of having deep moral intuitions (as all humans do), while also believing those intuitions have no relation to reality (though most don’t admit to this inevitable struggle).

Well-known biologist and atheist Richard Dawkins declared in his book "River Out of Eden," “The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind pitiless indifference.” Dawkins recognizes that good and evil have no place in a naturalistic universe.

Existentialist philosopher and atheist Jean-Paul Sartre acknowledged that it was “very distressing that God does not exist, because all possibility of finding values in a heaven of ideas disappears along with Him. … As a result man is forlorn, because neither within him nor without does he find anything to cling to.”

Atheist philosopher Joel Marks recalled that he once believed in objective morality but was eventually driven to abandon that position. He experienced a “shocking epiphany” that “the religious fundamentalists are correct: Without God, there is no morality.” He was forced to conclude that “atheism implies amorality; and since I am an atheist, I must therefore embrace amorality.”

Atheist philosopher Julian Baggini confessed, “In an atheist universe, morality can be rejected without external sanction at any point, and without a clear, compelling reason to believe in its reality, that’s exactly what will sometimes happen.”

In a debate with a Christian at Stanford University, the late Cornell biology professor William Provine stated, “There are no gods, no purposes, and no goal-directed forces of any kind. … There is no ultimate foundation for ethics, no ultimate meaning in life, and no free will for humans, either.”

I belabor this point somewhat because it is difficult for most secular moderns to come to grips with. One can hardly blame them because the implications of naturalism are truly horrifying. It represents the complete dissolution of all objective meaning, value, purpose, and morality.

Thankfully, however, naturalism is not true, and there is an objective basis for right and wrong, which is God’s own supremely good nature. Because all human beings are made in God’s image, we have deep moral intuitions that help us discern right from wrong. This remains true even for those who reject belief in God, which is why many nonbelievers live basically moral lives, even while discounting the very foundation of right and wrong (Genesis 1:26-27; Romans 1:32; 2:14-15).

Due to the Edenic fall, our moral intuitions have been corrupted by sin, and we need the moral guidance God has provided in His Word. God’s commands in scripture represent our moral duties and obligations and provide a firm foundation for living a life that reflects God’s own wholly good nature.

This article is adapted from a post that originally appeared on the Worldview Bulletin Substack.

How A Former Atheist’s Letters To God Changed The Way I Pray

With a penetrating gaze reaching deep inside his own soul, Hill touches a universal nerve of all humanity: a desperate need for God.