Bibical - archaeology... proof - god... isn't that a little oxymoron-ish? Oh, Mickiel...
Best "proof of god," in my book, comes from Exodus. Here's Moses, off on the hill with "the god of Abraham," leaving his flock to tend for itself for forty days... (Leader + Prophet = disaster, in my book... and what kind of "finger of god" requires forty days to engrave... and) Forty days of man-god interaction, cast in stone, in the Creator's own script - smashed in a fit of pique by a man who should have known better - a golden calf is far more real than an "invisible" god, especially when such traditions are "grandfathered in..."
Proof nothing, sayeth the lord. God is, I know, deal... proof exists in my mind, and we can agree to disagree. But if there ever should come a day when the "Vulcan mind meld" becomes common practice, the atheist is gonna have to use another term... it bugs me, proving god. There's this word, "God," and if I bring it up, a conversation may ensure; there' my god and your god, god that lurks in philosophy and science, god that may or may not have a body - a point, or even an existance; who may or may not have have created the universe of bosons and bosun's mates and contemporary fiction... and there's people always on a crusade to name the Name, and if you're not the same, you're fair game...
And there's after. What after? We're all just worm food? Au contrare, mon frere... something - animates. A body in a casket is biodegradable material , not "John." Not "Frank," nor Joe nor my aunt Sarah, it is merely the dust from which it has evolved. What lives, is life; and life has contunued to live - everywhere. I'm not a human being; I am a collection of three trillion cells who "decided" that environmental pressures could best be overcome by self-organizing into a "single entity (a gross simplification)" And what am I? Which particular cell holds the moniker, John? What two amino acids link together to say, "I am?" If this is the sum total of living, what worth this life? Why not just take? God?
No. Not my agenda. I'm not a single life; I'm an entire ecology. Symboitic bacteria help me digest my food, groom my eyelashes, wait patiently within for the animating force to move on; after which what remains shall be just remains. Biodegradeable crap you don't want near your septic system. I don't worship the dead, there ain't no dead; a cemetary is a monument to the living. When I'm done, throw me in the blue bucket.
Scarsity of life - nothing. Ain't no "lifeless universe;" there's places of varing density. What of the fish, that first paddled towards "dry land," that barren abyss? I'm living at the bottom of an ocean - it is measurable with a barometer. Beyond our gravity well, the density markedly decreases; but spores go there, hydrocarbons go there, light goes there... life goes there.
How about, somebody go and prove this insiduous rumor called "death?" Show me some empirical evidence that Grant is buried in Grant's tomb. Show me my father. What remains of life is life. What remains of me, is god. Even if no one ever speaks my name.
Which is to say; what can be understood within the confines of mortal consideration, within a causal, entropic universe; doesn't necessarily include all that can possibly be understood. There may never have been a man who "spoke of god" in this universe that has anything to do with whatever after after actually is, but the three simple letters of g o d - clearly spell out something that we do not know...
But we can have a conversation about it.