Really, it's good, sound ancestral logic.
A man broke into a Shiva temple in India and stole many valuable items from the temple treasury. When the man was apprehended, he freely admitted the break-in, but nonetheless contended that he was innocent of theft.
Innocent?
Yes indeed, said the man. I stole nothing.
But the goods from the temple were found in your possession, said the authorities.
Nevertheless, I am innocent of the charges, said the man.
In India, a temple and everything in it belong to the main god enshrined therein. This is good, sound ancestral lore: any ancient Greek would have said the same. To steal something from a god—the original meaning of the word sacrilege—was accounted by the ancestors as one of the most terrible of crimes, in the same category as incest or murder.
How is it, then, that the man claimed innocence?
Because, he contended, the god Shiva does not exist. To own, you must exist. A non-existent person cannot be said to own anything. Therefore, to take things from the temple was not theft. You cannot steal something that is ownerless.
The case went up through the courts, which—understandably—were unwilling to rule on whether or not gods actually exist. One readily understands their reluctance. Courts simply don't have the standing to rule on such a question. To rule for their existence would be to exceed judicial authority. To rule against their existence would—as the case itself demonstrates—create a deeply dangerous precedent.
Finally, the case reached the Supreme Court. Their ruling was elegant in its simplicity.