Dear Moral Borrowing Atheist,

Do you believe in the higher value of humans over non-human animals? If so, you are borrowing some of your morality from Theistic philosophy. Evolution provides no foundation for this higher value. The philosophy that has its foundation in evolution equates man with animals. In this view, man does not deserve a higher value than animals. This morality is based on one’s ability to suffer.

Is it more moral to kill a pig that can feel pain or a fetus that can’t feel pain? Atheists would save the pig. Is it less moral to eat bacon, seeing as how the pig can suffer and humans killed it, or practice cannibalism as long as the human died accidentally and the relatives say it’s OK? Atheists would enjoy a good batch of John Smith stew. Is it more moral to kill a deformed or mentally retarded infant so they won’t have to suffer all of their lives, or let them live (although this “suffering” is debatable)? Atheists choose to end the suffering. Some atheists would still let the child and the fetus live and also eat bacon, but if they do they betray the fact that their philosophy does not totally align itself with atheistic philosophy. They borrow from Theistic philosophy.

Would you be more disgusted at a picture of a dead fetus? Your answer will tell you what philosophy you live by.

Dear Moral Atheist,

I wonder if your morality is the better morality. Morality for the atheist is undefined much like atheism has no real definition. Each atheist goes about living the way he sees fit. There is no atheistic code of ethics. Your morality starts from a sort of “ground up” scenario. All presupposed morality is dismissed as fabrication, and the morality that emerges is chosen by you to either benefit you or society. If it so happens to wrong someone in any way, then you consider dropping that particular moral standard or altering it so as to avoid contention. But, you can also reason that particular standard to be fair no matter what the consequences to the other person if it benefits society. Let us examine one such moral standard.

Society today decides when a proper amount of value for a human life is given to that life. The fetus has less value at a certain point than later when it has developed well enough to have obtained some human value. However, isn’t it more advantageous for the fetus to have the attribute of human worth at the moment of conception so it is less likely to be aborted? Don’t misunderstand me here. This conversation is not about abortion. It’s about morality.

Generally speaking, a higher moral standard is better than a lower moral standard. If we say there is no higher or lower standard, just a particular set of standards that I choose, then there was no real reason for World War II. Surely Hitler and the ethnic cleansing he was doing was considered wrong during that time period. And surely the way the Jews were treated could only have happened if a different set of morals were adopted by the Germans. By the same token, the married man who sleeps around with other women is considered to have lower moral standards. Be that as it may, even though we set moral standards for ourselves, we don’t keep them 100% of the time. No matter how low or high one’s morals may be, they aren’t always kept. However, keeping a higher standard is a preventative measure so that our margin of error won’t destroy us.

But, what are we really doing when we evaluate someone else’s moral standing? Is there not some imagined morality that is the best we could adopt? Are we not heading somewhere toward a better and better morality till we eventually get it right? If no perfect morality exists, then the whole idea of the evolutionary process is has lost its ground, for by it we should be continually improving and maturing. If not, what’s the point? And, what about the evolutionary imperative? It’s supposed to cause us to keep the traits that are good for reproduction and societal living. It seems, though, that we are not following the evolutionary imperative or the natural selection process when we continue the act of abortion. We don’t let the “natural” take its course. If you justify the act by saying that we are controlling overpopulation or honoring the rights of the woman, are we not overstepping our bounds here? Are we not taking on the role of evolution itself, and in a sense become impatient with it? It seems humans aren’t just content to be their own gods, but they want to control the evolutionary process as well.

The Christian’s morality is built with a “top down” scenario. We examine the morality found in the Bible, and perceive these standards are high. We may choose not to follow them, or even alter them in some way (indeed, some Christians support abortion), but the standards are always there. They are unchanging and unrelenting in their call for us to follow them. In regards to the fetus, value is attributed at the moment of conception, making the destruction of the fetus at any point inhumane. It would seem that the Christian standard of morality does a better job of supporting the human race than the morality brought about by the evolutionary process. In fact, I challenge you to find a morality better than ones found in Biblical principles. (I’m not talking about the actions of individuals or groups recorded in the Bible, or orders from God confined to one point in time.) If, however, you can’t then you must logically conclude that the evolutionary process will eventually lead your morality to the become the same as the Christian standard. And should you not jump the evolutionary ship to join a more advanced one?

Have a look at atheistic morality in this video:

A Long Time Ago… Or Is It?




It was the night of sacrifice. The air was heavy and damp with sticky summer heat. Sweat covered one’s body like an oily film.

Molech’s image glowed against the dark, deeply clouded sky. The figure was ominous and awesome—a beautifully sculpted, dramatic bull’s head atop a powerful, muscled body of a man. Tilka’s heart pounded in anticipation of the night’s sacrifice. It was anticipation bred of devotion, yet mixed with anguish and silent terror. It was her firstborn son who was to die in Molech’s glowing, red-hot arms.

Tilka knew there was no alternative but to sacrifice her tiny son. It was the law and the way of her people. All her life, she had worshiped before Molech and Baal and the other gods and goddesses. When she had come of age, her family went to the temple together, each going in to the temple prostitutes. That was where she lost her virginity in the service to their gods. She knew it was the right thing to do.

And she had taken part in the sacrifices, watching other mothers place their innocent, newborn sons in the outstretched arms of the terrible, flames-filled Molech. It was a humbling experience. She always felt sympathy and pride for the mothers who gave up their children. It was necessary to ensure good harvests and even future fertility of the women.

Tilka knew that one day she would have the opportunity to serve the gods with the ultimate sacrifice. She knew she would have to give up her firstborn son, and knew she would. It had to be done. It was the law and the way of her people. She was always proud to be a servant of Baal and El and Molech.

She dressed in her most elegant and revealing gown. Tonight she would not only offer her son to Molech, but she would again offer her body to temple prostitutes at the height of the worship ceremony. As she prepared herself, she did her best to steel her thoughts against the pain of losing her child. She had to be perfectly numb and emotionless as her innocent infant son was rolled into the hungry flames—the ever ravenous flames. If she cried or gave any indication of sorrow, the sacrifice of her son would be meaningless, and she and her husband would be barred from the temple.

Tilka went over to where her son was sleeping. He had just nursed and was sleeping soundly. She wanted him to remain as quiet and peaceful as possible as he faced the ordeal. He was such a beautiful baby boy, with handsome features and a surprisingly full head of hair. He was flawless. As she wrapped him in his blanket, momentary regret and pain flashed through her breaking heart. Yet she didn’t dare question the gods’ motives, not even herself.


As Tilka and her husband approached the hill of sacrifice, the sounds of the ceremony drifted toward them. Loud drums were being beaten rhythmically, and other instruments added to the deep din. In the distance, to the west across the mountains, thunder rumbled in counter-point, and intermittent heat lightning flashed eerily. It was a perfect night for sacrifice, for the gods were joining the worship.

Tilka shivered in the chilly air, yet she was covered with a cold, slimy sweat. She and her husband walked into the circle of worshipers, and carried their son to the priest. As they moved nearer the blazing Molech, the music became louder and more frenzied. For a moment, Tilka wanted to scream and run, taking her child with her. Yet, from deeper inside, she knew the sacrifice was right and good. And she knew she would obey her gods as she had done all her life.

She placed her son in the priest’s arms. The priest lifted the child toward the image and began chanting to the great god Molech. Attendants threw more wood into the furnace, making the fire roar with new intensity.

The music was raucous, a frantic din. It always got loudest during a sacrifice. Perhaps, Tilka guessed, it drowned out the cries of the dying infant as he screamed in agony and pain. The scantily clad temple prostitutes, both male and female, began to dance sensuously before the image of Molech, enticing the god to observe their ceremony and take heed of the sacrifice.

Tilka stood frozen, emotionless as she watched the priests handle her son. Each one took the child and intoned over him, praying to Molech, and blessing the sacrifice. Finally the child was handed to the high priest who stood before Molech’s outstretched arms. Tilka had never noticed until tonight how frightening and evil Molech’s image appeared.

The music reached a deafening peak. The dancers twirled in obscene frenzy, other worshipers joining them. It was as if a mass hysteria had begun to creep over the congregation of devout worshipers.

The priest slowly lifted the child skyward as he awakened and began crying innocently for his mother. But his mother stood still. Suddenly, the priest, not able to get too near the glowing, intensely hot image of Molech, threw the crying child into the god’s outstretched arms. The innocent child screamed in terror and pain. The odor of charred flesh immediately filled the air with its awful stench. For several moments, the child’s frantic death cries could be dimly heard beneath the noise of the instruments. The priest took a rod and pushed the blackened, charred body deeper into the flames, and the crying stopped.

The baby was finally dead. Molech was served.

Twenty-eight centuries later, Mary moved about the bedroom slowly, gathering her belongings into a small suitcase. Today was the day she would go to the abortion clinic…



What god do you serve? Have you met the god of convenience?




-story by John O. Anderson