I know very little about François-Marie Arouet, better known as Voltaire, beyond reading “Candide,” a book I remember disliking thoroughly at age 15. However, throughout college, Voltaire has crept back into my consciousness (albeit in a much more palatable form). Despite having a complicated relationship with religion, Voltaire spoke of it often, writing on a myriad of topics and occasionally inventing Christian myths that have stood the test of time. Notably, in a verse epistle dated 1768, addressed to the anonymous author of “The Three Impostors,” he touched on something fascinating. In one of his most famous sayings, he wrote: “If God hadn’t existed, it would have been necessary to invent him.”
Scholars debate whether he meant it sincerely or cynically, given his well-documented opposition to organized religion. Nevertheless, he raised an interesting question about what we now recognize as a foundational pillar of human existence and societal function. His words are most thought-provoking for what they leave unsaid. My own continuation of Voltaire’s line of questioning goes as follows: If God hadn’t existed, we would have had to invent him—but if we’d been given the choice, what kind of God would we have invented?
I was raised in a household surrounded by prayer—we didn’t eat a meal or sleep in a bed without offering some semblance of thanks to God. I wouldn’t be surprised if decades of prayer had worn two knee-shaped indentations into the carpet beside my bed.
Yet, as I have aged, I still feel as if my faith in the eternal father walks on a tightrope. Steady, but never completely certain. I distinguish between faith in God and faith as a concept because I have never doubted the latter.
Voltaire’s use of the word “invent” is interesting to me in this context, as invention carries two distinct meanings. On one hand, the verb implies original creation; on the other, it implies dishonesty or deception. History shows that religion is not a fixed trait of human existence but a societal adaptation that emerged as life grew more complex—something we invented to explain the unexplainable. However, as religion has evolved, in many senses, it has become a tool to justify senseless acts of violence against others in the name of a higher being.
As I have grown older and walked further and further on the tightrope that is religious life, I have seen the astounding evil this world has produced in the name of religion. I continually ask myself why. Why would a deity, of any faith, allow their believers to carry out atrocities in their name? Would we call that a lord worthy of worship—and why? Why do we not recognize, more publicly, that the God we have invented has been used as justification for the unjustifiable?
The answer is, to me, simple: it is not the fault of religion that these things have occurred, but bad actors sheltering behind religion as an excuse to allow themselves to commit evil acts whilst claiming divine consent. If today we were given the agency to mold our God, would we rationally create a being that demands unquestioning loyalty and an organized religion so susceptible to corruption? I think not. Would we create a system where suffering is seen as a means to virtue? I’m not so sure. Though I believe these things, humanity is also inclined to divide. We have built boundaries where they needn’t have existed, and even if we invented a perfect, rational God, I believe we would still find ways to divide ourselves.
The situation is, by any stretch of the imagination, nonsensical, but so too is faith. Either way, we need a higher being, or something that a God represents. We need to feel like our existence means something more than the crushing reality that, in the grand scheme of things, our entire lives start and end in the blink of an eye. Community, meaning, and a moral compass are essential to being human.
And yet, every God we attempt to create will be corrupted in some way. The tools we use to build faiths eventually all become tools of persecution in the hands of bad actors. This we cannot escape.
Voltaire claimed that if God hadn’t existed, we would have needed to invent him. I agree. And if we were given the choice, what God would we invent? Perhaps the answer has always been the same. The features that make us ask “why?” are exactly the features that let deities function as they do. A deity without mystery is more akin to philosophy than faith, and a faith grounded completely in proof is no faith at all. So, to answer my extension of Voltaire’s question, if given the choice, what would we choose to build? Nothing new. We would choose what we know again and again, across the faiths. Not out of delusion, but because we know we know no better and cannot build a better future on a reality we fundamentally don’t understand. The mystery of faith is great, and the mystery of God is greater.
Noah Basden ’29 (nhbasden@college.harvard.edu) NEEDS to go to church more.
