A theist told me that without god I’m just molecules in motion…
We are molecules in motion. Only not just.
We are also heirs (at the very least) to 5 thousand years of history, 14 thousand years of civilization, 50 thousand years of behavioral modernity, 3 billion years of biology, 14 billion years of physics, chemistry, and cosmology.
We are descended from the cosmos — “A way for the universe to know itself.”
Not a p a r t from it, but a part of it.
We are particles that dream. Atoms that love. Star dust configured to comprehend its own existence.
We are kin and kindred to every earthly organism that is or ever was and perhaps ever will be.
We sail across an ocean of human toil and pain and blood…and of hope.
We are curators of knowledge. Co-authors of the human story.
At our feet, all of human achievement, above us endless possibility, within us untapped potential.
And the truly beautiful part, the sweetest, most succulent, warm and fuzzy, spine-tingling, uplifting, stupefying, humbling, unequivocally, undeniably most beautiful part about it…
The Huffington Post has an interesting article about a recent Gallup poll showing that many Americans have lost confidence in organized religion. The shift represents a more than 22 point swing over the last forty years.
While the polls are clearly denoting a loss of faith in the institutions of organized religions and NOT a loss of faith in God or religious doctrine, they still represents cracks in the armor. Growing up, I don’t know that I held anyone outside of my immediate family in higher esteem than my church elders. Even after I was no longer a practicing Christian, I considered the ‘the cloth’ as an estimable position to have.
Very public scandals involving the Catholic church and televangelists preachers have clearly had a deteriorating effect on people’s trust in church leadership. There was the immediate effect of those scandals of course, but there were also long term effects. By painful example a religious title obviously doesn’t give a person greater insight into the human condition. It doesn’t make a person more wise or less prone to mistakes. It certainly doesn’t make a person better at decision-making.
I think another factor in this loss of confidence is the proliferation of the personal relationship with God central to evangelical Christianity–the fastest growing religion in the world. Evangelicals don’t need church fathers to intermediate between God and themselves. Through prayer and contemplation they seek the connection with God themselves and only turn to church officials for guidance in this effort.
While I still maintain that individual spirituality can have a obstructive impact on some advancements in science and technology as well as human rights, organized religion is the true culprit in the fight against cultural egality.
Most of the people I have observed who characterize themselves as spiritual rather than religious, no matter how similar their beliefs might be to organized religious dogma, do not presume nearly the same level of moral authority to impose those beliefs on others.
Obviously, the power of the church is far from broken. It’s more accurate to say the overall influence of the church is somewhat diminished and it has been considerably diminished over the last decade or so.
While it is my hope that–someday–everyone will come to see the merit–even wisdom–of skeptical reason, I have the utmost respect for religious freedom. In practical terms alone that goes to our basic freedoms of speech and thought. So I am not interested in any course that leads to the restriction or loss of rights for any churches or belief systems (except that any church that is politically active loses its tax exempt status. No one should be able to use tax free dollars to influence policy.)
It will be interesting to see how this trend continues. As an element of civilization, I think it is inevitable. The more we know, the less superstitious we become. Still, even the inevitable can take centuries and be rife with backslides and regressions. Hopefully, this trend will instead snowball to a point where we start moving towards policy dictated by evidence-based argument rather than unfounded claims based solely on religious beliefs.
It has been alleged that I like calling people stupid. 🙂
I actually don’t. It’s just an honest observation. Group think and mob mentality are well documented psychosocial states. Sometimes it manifests as a trend in the stock market other times as a guy being dragged to death behind a pick-up truck. Of course, stupidity comes in myriad forms.
I am not talking about people with legitimate cognitive disabilities, but rather people who fail (or refuse) to put adequate thought behind their words and deeds.
Like evil, stupidity is a result of behavior. It stems primarily from speaking or acting from ignorance. Ignorance is unawareness of–or disregard for–information, logic, reason, and common sense. So stupidity is nothing more than ignorance in action. It is learned and reversible.
And it is rampant in the United States of America.
This is mainly because we accept it. We allow people to espouse unfounded and illogical beliefs without challenge. We have a media that simply parrots talking points. We have an education system that is merely prep for standardized tests. We elect ignorant people to positions of power and allow them to use their ignorance to impact everyone.
So why do we do this?
As is often the case, it goes back to religion (I’m not trying to beat up on it, I’m just noting where things come from). Our nation has Christian roots. And what Christianity teaches us is that the sin that has doomed our entire race to suffering and strife is the acquisition of knowledge. Not envy, or wrath, or greed, not murder or rape, but knowledge. I’ve considered the Adam and Eve story allegorical for as long as I can remember. A disappointingly large number of people take it as literal. Either way, it’s unsurprising that after inculcating, even beating, this story into millions and millions of kids over the course of centuries, we have learned to distrust knowledge.
This distrust is nothing more than willful ignorance.
Education, discussion, and exposure to new people and experiences can do away with involuntary ignorance. Hey, I didn’t know cause I didn’t know. But with willful ignorance, commonly expressed as, “That’s just what I believe,” this baseless, line-in-the-sand positioning becomes a bulwark against enlightenment. It is often considered principled, even noble, to hold firm to one’s beliefs regardless of their validity. Unfortunately, it’s used to hurt people for “honorable” reasons.
But it is not noble or honorable. It’s hubris. It’s dangerous. And it’s antithetical to progress.
Essentially one is saying, I am going to keep believing in something even though I have no reason to believe it other than I want to. At issue in these instances actually isn’t the belief itself but rather the feeling of safety, security, comfort and stability one gets from believing it. Ignorance really is bliss.
This is common refuge for religious people. To some degree I understand the obstinance. Faith deals with ideas that are often reassuring, unquantifiable, and–most importantly–unfalsifiable. It feels good to believe it and it can’t be disproved, so there’s little motivation to stop believing it. Plus, science doesn’t have any better answers in many cases.
While this type of reasoning is actually unsound, there is a pure logic to it that appeases common sense…until you actually think about it. Pleasant fiction is still fiction.
The troubled waters really begin when this type of thinking spills over into other aspects of life, especially legislation.
When stupidity dictates policy you get Stand Your Ground and Sharia Law bans. You get our crumbling education system. You get bigotry, tribalism, and antipathy.
You also get the Texas state GOP rejecting higher thinking skills, including critical thinking, on their official party platform. Or you get the Louisiana lawmakers who passed a school voucher program allowing people to send their kids to Christian schools pulling their support for the program after people started using those same public funds to send their kids to Muslim schools. It’s how you get people scoffing at global warming every time it snows or refuting radiometric dating without an iota of expertise.
Of course, these are right-wing issues.
On the left, fear of vaccines and other pharmaceutical drugs are built largely on conjecture, unfounded claims, and circumstantial evidence. Any charlatan with an alphabet soup after their name can write a book and present it to the masses as a breakthrough. The lay person lacks the acumen to challenge it. But does that book hold up to the scrutiny of other experts in their field? The only thing these miracle herbalists and holistic healers need to do is demonstrate–to other experts in the field–that their methods get consistent results–that anyone who follows their processes can duplicate. That is the standard for the scientific method.
Most of the people I’ve had discussions with could not articulate that standard of proof. We haven’t been taught to think in those terms. We believe what we want to believe.
So we do need better education. But we also need to let go of our own arrogance. We need to stop presuming that we’re right all the time. We need to stop thinking that we know and start proving that we know. We’ve got to stop being scared of challenging our beliefs.
I lean towards skepticism because it makes the fewest presumptions. It’s mantra is simply that I will believe whatever there is sufficient reason to believe.
It’s a renunciation of absolutes and it’s far from sexy. For some, it may seem like a cold proposition (of course, that is once again basing one’s beliefs on feelings rather than facts). Admittedly, the argument that there’s more to life than what you can measure and calculate has merit. But in terms of what rules we make to live by, we should go by a reality that we can mutually demonstrate. The standards should rely on independently verifiable evidence.
This means getting past life by je ne sais quoi, and into the realm of the provable, quantifiable, and falsifiable.
That means getting past stupidity, which means letting go of our ignorance, which begins by admitting that we are ignorant.
I know, it doesn’t feel good, but it gets better (I hope! :o).
And it’s important to remember that the problem is not the lack of knowledge but rather acting on the lack of knowledge.
Changing the culture is a generational thing. But it’s possible. And it starts with each of us.
Ah ! well a-day ! what evil looks
Had I from old and young !
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
–From The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The line between free thought and subjugated thought is thin but absolute and can be determined with a simple question that requires no modification of current beliefs: If there is no God, if we are all that is, would you want to know?
I believe abjectly that human potential is virtually limitless. We have just scratched the surface of what we can do and become. Unfortunately, we are constrained by a fatal flaw in our design (it also happens to be one of our greatest attributes):
I’m not just talking about religious faith–although religion is a crucial aspect. I’m talking about faith as the trust we have that we are correct about what we believe (i.e., hold to be true). Because of that trust we make presumptions. We hold some presumptions so dearly that we actually consider questioning them taboo. But presumption is simply unfounded belief, no matter how logical it may seem or profoundly we may believe it. Religion then exalts these unfounded beliefs as the Will or Law of supreme and/or supernatural beings–who are themselves unfounded beliefs. It uses evidence to justify–rather than evaluate–beliefs and either disregards or denounces contradictory evidence (such as evolution and radiometric dating).
It may seem like I’m calling humankind delusional, but as instinctive and intuitive animals, we are right so much of the time–purely by guessing–that belief has become innate. Whether it’s navigating through traffic, recognizing whether a door is automated or manual, or realizing that an unattended child is getting into something, we guess right an overwhelming majority of the time. It verifies our faith. It’s probably why it’s so embarrassing and even unsettling when we’re wrong; we’ve failed in our perception of reality.
Faith was crucial when we were ignorant of the natural world. But as we have passed from the age of faith, through the age of reason, and into the age of knowledge it has become imperative for us to re-evaluate the principles and processes by which we discern what is true.
We have not only acquired more knowledge–beliefs supported by evidence–we’ve gotten better at acquiring it; knowledge chafes against the limits of faith, religious or otherwise. Our understanding of the world, once buttressed by faith is becoming increasingly imprisoned by it. We resist accepting new truths because they may dispel older ones.
It has become untenable.
If we are skeptical–which is to say we presume as little as possible, only accepting beliefs supported by evidence–we can get closer to the reality of existence than we ever could by faith in unfounded beliefs. Because that faith may be displaced. Skepticism is the purest search for truth and truth encompasses all possibilities.
So this is not to denounce religious beliefs. The exploration of a transcendental origin, nature, or purpose for existence is at the very least well-intentioned. And it may very well be true. But until it is supported by evidence, it is only a belief in what is possible and therefore should neither be the basis for social law nor the arbiter of morality.
The only way to liberate thought is to prioritize truth. Science and philosophy which share this mandate with religion, will always trump religion because science and philosophy admit to fallibility. A core tenet of scientific method is scrutiny through peer review and the first rule of philosophy is that we may be wrong about everything. Meanwhile religion, particularly Christianity, Mormonism, Islam, and Judaism, profess, without evidence, to relay the infallible, yet wildly interpretive, word of God. None hold up to objective scrutiny. Their only defense is to restrict investigation, deny contradiction, and denounce skepticism.
It’s been successful. We have been programmed to avoid intellectual conflict. Never talk about politics or religion. By default I would add money to that list. But these are the core, substantive issues affecting the quality of life on earth. What better to talk about than money, politics, and religion? Or should billions suffer and starve so no one has to admit they may be mistaken?
When we are wrong–which is inevitable–failing (or refusing) to re-examine what we hold to be true diminishes our potential. We deny possibilities for no reason outside our own minds. It limits our ability to understand, even to question.
Thus faith has become the albatross around the neck of human thought.
We absolutely must free ourselves from the yoke of this superstition. We must define truth as beliefs justified by–and better, arising out of–evidence and always subject to greater truth. Only skeptical reason, tempered by compassion, can elevate society beyond unfounded belief and into the realm of knowledge in the noble quest to understand.
What God would just leave us in a world like this
And call it love?
The gates of heaven should open into oblivion
that under this firmament
–where the seconds saunter spitefully by–
full of dancing fools and lovers,
whose eyes fix on peace
and call it nothing
My bond is to my brother’s keep
‘Til I take his eye for my belt loop(Just for the snivel in him)
I. Draw. My. Every. Breath.
My rainbow ends in her arms
friendly faces, ocean-side vespers, humble feasts
What world could be as Divine as this
–where the years take wing upon swift gales–
That has no God?
Only selfish fools and lovers
whose eyes fix on nothing
And call it peace
I have a love/hate relationship with labels. The clarity is great but the rigidity sucks.
When I noted that I am a spiritual atheist, some people ascribed to me their stigma of atheism. Others considered spiritual atheism paradoxical.
I am a human being who does not believe in deities nor any connections or derivations thereof (divine books, origins of birth, miracles, etc.). I do not deny the existence of any god, I just don’t subscribe to it. I don’t know what happens after we die (of course, what I don’t know is infinite).
However, I am a believer and proponent of the connection I share with other people–all people, in fact, all living things–the earth, and the universe. We are cosmic beings, made of celestial material; we come from the universe and to it we will ultimately return.
And we are alive. I know of no other comparable fortune. What’s more, we are aware of this gift and can enjoy it for the blessing that it is.
Plus, we are the inheritors of 200,000 years of human history. I am the beneficiary of the sacrifices and accomplishments of all those who came before me from families, merchants, soldiers, kings, scholars, and philosophers to theologians, artists, inventors, and masons, even bakers and cobblers. Their achievements have made our lives possible. They have progressed us–technologically, scientifically, and morally–to our highest point in recorded history. I believe we have a responsibility to continue their work and leave an even better world than we inherited. They are examples, not the pinnacle, of how high we can go. We honor them by striving to exceed them as they exceeded those who came before. I believe it is our duty, our obligation, to do so (We have a LOT of work to do).
I believe in a world without suffering, where we are each free to pursue our own happiness, so long as it does not infringe on the happiness of others or abandon our sense of responsibility to one another.
Some will call it a pipe dream, an impossible quest for a perfect world; but I respond (echoing Vince Lombardi), perfection may be impossible, but in striving to achieve it, excellence may be attained.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
This is the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment, one of the most broadly interpreted–and hotly contested–parts of the U.S. Constitution.
The Establishment Clause was initially interpreted to mean the U.S. Congress only. Many of the states had already adopted official churches. However, by the early 19th century–when many of the founding fathers were still involved in governance–the interpretation had already been broadened to include elements of state and local government. However, the Clause didn’t formally include the states until the U.S. Supreme Court’s 1947 ruling on Emerson vs. The Board of Education. The ruling echoed writings by Thomas Jefferson on the subject in which he envisioned a “wall of separation” between the government and the church. It makes sense. They had just rebelled against a Christian theocracy; it stands to reason that they wouldn’t want to re-establish the same system here in America.
Like many of the ideals expressed in the Constitution, our interpretation of the church/state relationship has evolved. Both sides have positions rooted in the origins of our nation. The real question is, do we want to progress with those ideals or go backwards?
This is where Conservatives and strict Constitutionalists miss the point. The greatness of the U.S. Constitution is its adaptability to the needs of the times while maintaining core values regarding liberty, freedom of speech, freedom of religion, pursuit of happiness, et al; not because it was perfect as-ratified in 1788, long before the automobile, the airplane, the nuclear bomb, modern medicine, and the Internet. Remember, the Constitution also allowed for slavery and counted slaves as 3/5 of a person.
But then Christian fundamentalism has its roots in the vestiges of slave culture. In the 1960s Republicans courted southern whites enraged over the Civil Rights Movement as part of the Southern Strategy. Republicans positioned themselves not simply as proponents of Christianity, but rather as defenders of Christian supremacy. This is not about protecting peoples’ right to worship; it’s about imposing their particular brand of Christianity on all Americans.
This brand of Christian fundamentalism is called Dominionism, the belief that secular government must be eliminated in favor of theocracy. It’s basically fascism toting a crucifix. Rick Perry, Michelle Bachmann, and Sarah Palin number among the nationally known Republicans who subscribe to this theory.
…Which brings us back to the Establishment Clause.
I believe that, much like the issue of slavery, the Founding Fathers were not stauncher in their enforcement of the Establishment Clause in the interests of pragmatism. It would have been detrimental to the birth of the new nation to embroil it in a battle over economics and religion.
Yet regardless of how we might interpret the Establishment Clause, what is not debatable is that the Founders did not intend for us to be a theocracy, Christian or otherwise. How do we know this? The Constitution itself. All the framers needed to do was state, “These United States of America shall be a theocratic union…” or ” The official religion of these United States shall be…” or something to that effect. The fact that such language is notably absent from the Constitution speaks volumes about the Founding Fathers’ intentions.
Of course, there are the words of the Founding Fathers themselves:
“And the day will come when the mystical generation of Jesus, by the Supreme Being as his father in the womb of a virgin will be classed with the fable of the generation of Minerva in the brain of Jupiter. But may we hope that the dawn of reason and freedom of thought in these United States will do away with this artificial scaffolding, and restore to us the primitive and genuine doctrines of this most venerated reformer of human errors.” —Thomas Jefferson, Letter to John Adams, April 11, 1823
“Let it simply be asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion.” –George Washington, Farewell Address
“The priesthood have, in all ancient nations, nearly monopolized learning. And ever since the Reformation, when or where has existed a Protestant or dissenting sect who would tolerate A FREE INQUIRY? … But touch a solemn truth in collision with a dogma of a sect, though capable of the clearest proof, and you will find you have disturbed a nest, and the hornets will swarm about your eyes…and fly into your face…” — John Adams, letter to John Taylor
“It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are 20 gods, or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”–Thomas Jefferson
The Christian Right mistakenly argues that our nation’s founders were all Christians (much less wanted a Christian theocracy). Many did believe. Many others, including, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and John Adams were Deists. It stands to reason then, that they would want a nation in which all people were free to believe–or not believe–as they choose. It was a concept unique in the world at the time and which many Christian fundamentalists have difficulty comprehending.
Obviously, faith can be a guide, but it cannot be the basis by which laws are made.That would, by definition, make us a theocracy, no different structurally than Taliban-controlled Afghanistan.
This is where the Republican party bears responsibility. In courting the Christian fundamentalist vote they have perpetuated a dangerous element in politics. And the Republican leadership supported fundamentalism not because they shared their deep, albeit hateful, type of faith. They did it to acquire a devoted, factually ignorant, and malleable voting block, one conditioned to accept cloudy answers and fall in line with a simple call to faith.
They set discriminatory and oppressive policies, cherry-picked in the interests of their own insecurities, and shroud them in religion. They claim their purposes are noble; faith is personal and sacred; and to challenge their beliefs is disrespectful and taboo. In fact, we are the cultural assailants because we won’t let them impose their beliefs on us.
On top of all of that, the most terrifying thing about these Christian extremists is their longing for the Rapture. Call it Armageddon, call it Judgement Day, they yearn for the destruction of this world because they believe God’s Kingdom awaits them on the other side. True, the Christian extremists controlling the Republican party want to fundamentally change our form of government. But their ultimate goal is a Holy War. Therefore, it is incumbent upon both people of reason and reasonable faith to join together to not only oppose Republican Dominionism but to eradicate its influence from American politics. This is not about abortion rights. It’s not about gay marriage or the social safety net or U.S. foreign policy.
This is about what kind of America we want to live in: a Christian theocracy based on a narrow interpretation of the Bible, or a nation of laws based on reason, liberty, and equality of opportunity for everyone. We have to decide and then fight for it.
Otherwise we are going to reap the whirlwind.
This is the end of Bill Maher’s documentary Religulous. It’s a bit too broad and propagandized, but hyperbole aside, it’s accurate about a point many people don’t want to talk about.
According to the World Health Organization, a higher percentage of scientists currently agree that global warming is real and man-made than scientists in the 1980’s agreed that cigarette smoking causes cancer.
The only reason this nonsensical climate change non-debate even exists is anti-intellectualism–which I call the promotion of stupidity.
In America, promoting stupidity has become an art. However, it began as a political tool used to galvanize the mid-western and southern states against the coastal states. The coastal big cities, especially San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York, are admonished as centers of moral depravity and scholastic balderdash.
Nevertheless–putting my “lib” hat on– “anti-intellectualism” as a philosophy isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It can simply be the promotion other aspects of the human experiences over intellectual achievement. Both reasonable and valid.
The promotion of stupidity, however, distrusts intelligence and condemns most non-religious thought as self-important erudition or cultural warfare. As a result, we have minimized the importance of education–of thinking for ourselves.
There are two primary reasons this unfortunate state of being has come about: Religious fundamentalism and education.
America is the most religious of the modern nations. Tragically, our political discourse is being overrun by the “Born Again” crowd, the Christian fundamentalists. The direction of our 21st Century, technology-age nation is being determined by the religion of bronze-age farmers.
Christian fundamentalism proclaims the Holy Bible as 100% factually and historically accurate. This is why many adult Christians believe the earth is only 6,000 years old and that humans lived with the dinosaurs. Their piety towards this fairy tale nonsense forces them to distrust facts that contradict their belief–despite what those facts might tell them. It has to. Otherwise they wouldn’t be able to continue to believe.
There’s no point in debating the veracity of these fictions; the Bible doesn’t even meet most scholastic or scientific standards. Of course, it doesn’t need to. It’s a book of faith. From that perspective, the truths of the Bible are equally inarguable.
For most Christians, only their faith is centered around their holy book. For Christian fundamentalists, however, their understanding of natural history is centered around the Bible as well. Many other religious fundamentalists share similar relationships with their holy texts. Challenging that relationship is challenging their faith and then you’re getting to the core of a person. You will not win the argument.
But I don’t think we need to.
What we instead need to do is separate religion as an article of personal faith, which can be a wondrous thing, from religion as a source of governance, which is generally discriminatory–if not outright oppressive–to those who believe differently.
Religion puts otherwise rational people in direct opposition to logic, even facts. Any debate with a religious component can be reduced to “well, that’s just what I believe.” This is perfectly fine if what you believe is determining what you do with your life and your family. But if you are making decisions that affect other people and their lives, well then, you better have some facts to back it up.
The 1st Amendment of the U.S. Constitution and subsequent statements by several Founding Fathers on the topic suggests that they did not intend religion to be the basis by which laws are made. You cannot make a law because the Bible (Or Koran, or Tanakh) says x, y, or z. You have to establish the reason for the law in rational terms, even if your beliefs inform your position.
Plus religion, especially fundamentalism, stifles free thought. It teaches people not to dissent, to be part of the flock, to accept questions that have no real answer as “God” or “God’s Will”. It teaches people not to challenge certain things, but instead to just believe no matter what. These are not traits conducive to stimulating the intellect.
Nonetheless, I am not trying to be anti-religion. I believe religion is a path to redemption for many people…in any sense of the word. And it’s a source of comfort for millions of people.
I also think that anti-intellectualism is more a tool for religious leaders eager to keep their flocks and their funds coming than an actual tenet of any religion.
In fact, all of the major religions have contributed substantially to the history of thought. Monks preserved the knowledge of the ancient world and educated princes. Great and revered leaders advanced civilization by challenging the old ways of thinking, from Jesus Christ, to Harun al-Rashid, to Martin Luther.
This type of thinking needs to be brought back to religion.
Our education system is designed for an industrial workforce. It promotes discipline, hard work, and acquiescence to authority. It supports technical learning and even problem solving. However, it does not advance out-of-the-box, innovative thinking to nearly the same degree. So in a way, even our education system is anti-intellectual.
And now, even that education system is being cut to the bone.
Austerity–reducing government spending–is an easy selling point for simpletons who seem to believe that leading a global economy is akin to balancing their checkbooks. (They also seem ready to believe that tax rates are the driving principle behind the economy.) So we hack and slash at government spending because the numbers are big and big is scary to stupid people.
With American austerity, perpetuated by both major political parties, education is ALWAYS among the first programs to receive cuts. Our education system, once the best in the entire world, is now middling among modern nations. In 2009, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development ranked the United States 18th among the 36 nations it studied. We’ve had even more draconian cuts to education since.
Yet a quality education is not only the best way to ensure equality of opportunity but it also provides an intelligent and informed citizenry. There was a time when higher education was about more than job training. College graduates were considered scholarly, at least to a degree, and held in esteem. They were our thinkers; now they’re just our better trained workers.
Clearly, the proliferation of college graduates has taken some of the luster off of getting a degree. But universities have also been scrutinized for even trying to challenge traditional thoughts and beliefs. K-12 schools largely don’t even try.
This is because the promoters of stupidity desire that no school teach students anything that contradicts what their parent or religious leaders have taught them.
I guess they forgot:
“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
Of course, education is only responsible for the transmission of our cultural and intellectual advancements, and the preparation of our youth to compete in the global economy, so maybe I’m just over-hyping its importance.
In the end the promotion of stupidity isn’t usually perpetuated by stupid people. More often, intelligent people promote stupidity to both take advantage of people susceptible to that and to create a bigger pool from which they can reap benefits.
The real problem isn’t so much that Americans can’t find their hometown on a globe or explain the theory of relativity. It’s the celebration of that ignorance. Not only are we happy that we don’t know it, we don’t trust the people who do.
Granted, intelligence is by no means a virtue; but neither is the lack of it. The virtue lies in maximizing our potential, whatever our capacities. When Neil Armstrong took his first steps on the moon, it was the realization of years of work by some of the smartest, most courageous, decent, and (yep) God-fearing people in our nation’s history.
We need to come together like that once again.
And yeah, I suppose there were some dimwits shuffling about during the Apollo 11 moonwalk as well. I mean, someone had to clean the crappers.
The title is a bit misleading (Guess I just liked the sound of it).
This post is really for the non-religious. Being skeptical of a theistic, intervening deity–which I am–is not the same as being cynical of any greater power whatsoever–which I am not.
I was never much of the “praying type”. It always seemed kind of selfish to me. Even when I prayed for other people, I was doing so because I wanted good things for them. I suppose there are worse things you could do with your time. But I always like the concept of praying, putting good vibes out there.
A key aspect of myriad religions and philosophies, prayer covers a wide range topics and there are innumerable methods and purposes. In general, I consider prayer as a kind of active, focused, positive thought.
I posted a blog recently discussing my rejection of religion. It sparked several wonderful conversations with friends, family, and fellow internet geeks on both sides of the issue, and has helped me more clearly define my own beliefs while being introduced to new ideas and perspectives. I can already tell this is just the beginning of my exploration of the subject.
However, I’ve already come to the startling and identity-smashing realization that I am an Atheist. I have likewise become entrenched in my rejection of religion and furthermore believe that religion is in desperate need of a new reformation–as happened with Christ, Mohammed, the Great Schism, and the Protestant Reformation. Religion is the bridge between a people and their deity. As such, religion must reflect both sides to be relevant, which most of today’s Western religions do with plummeting effectiveness. Civilization is in peril because modern technological capability is being governed by iron-age theosophy and agrarian morality. (But more on that another time.)
This is not a rejection of faith or even God.
Epistemologically speaking, “God” as the Creator, exists. The proof is existence itself. I exalt that “trinity” of creation, destruction, and recreation. My limited and casual understanding of the sciences suggests to me that these forces are at least interwoven if not one. While violent and terrifying from our subjective view these dynamics are, in reality, nothing more than the restructuring of particle groups and the principles that drive it. I believe, by the intricate flawlessness of these organizing principles, that some kind of intelligence drives them or comprises them or perhaps originated them.
I won’t speculate as to what kind of intelligence that might be or how it works. Nor would I hazard a guess as to sentience, especially not sentience as I know it. This, to me, is one of the places where reasonable people can, for the time being, come to their own conclusions.
For me, the staggering actuality that I–a collection of individually lifeless molecules, inexplicably arranged into sentience–am able to experience even this infinitesimal speck of all that is, has been, and will be, is more than miracle enough to compel my continual, embarrassed, and humble gratitude.
The question is, how exactly do I show that gratitude?
Again, I am an atheist, theologically speaking. Yet there are “higher” concepts that I do believe in: Salvation, enlightenment, even bliss. These ideas still hold profound meaning for me. To my mind they are all modes of thought, or more accurately, modes of thought procession. From perception and understanding to joy, forgiveness, and guilt, thought is how we experience existence.
This means that thought has power–unequaled power from the human perspective. So logically, I must therefore believe in the power of positive–and negative–thinking.
What I mean when I say positive is anything that drives us toward the combined states of individual contentment, environmental equilibrium, and social exceptionalism. In other words, I’m talking about states of happiness, balance, and growth as individuals and as a species.
I define happiness as the cessation of need, the tempering of desire through both achievement and self-control, and the unfettered pursuit of emotional, spiritual, and intellectual interests.
I define balance as maintaining a respectful, pragmatic equilibrium between the utilization and replenishment of our natural and cultural resources.
I define growth as progressive improvement in the quality of life and equality of opportunity for all people.
Experientially, these are modes of travel not destinations (to steal a motivational poster slogan). Salvation, enlightenment, and bliss are the ultimate forms of these modes. Our belief systems are how we achieve such modes which serve as the highest material functions of belief. In plain terms, faith can help make us better people.
Prayer then, along with reflection, meditation, and study, have their place as ways of attuning and refining thought positively, regardless of belief. You can pray to God, Allah, Yahweh, Mormon, or Buddha; you can pray to Oblivion; you can pray to the Blind Luck of the Universe if you want. The purpose is to give profound thanks for the opportunity to experience Life and to seek, within yourself or from God, the capacity to endure, overcome, and achieve.
I find something very reassuring about that.
And if praying is not your deal, then don’t do it. There are people of even devout faith who rarely pray.
Besides, if you’re doing it right, no one should know the difference.
And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
Note: I’m talking about faith and religion here. Just a warning in case the topic is not your thing.
To follow by faith alone is to follow blindly.
I come from a Church-going family. We didn’t go every Sunday, but most Sundays for the majority of my childhood. When I got older my mother allowed me to choose whether or not I wanted to attend. Predictably, I stopped going–although more from a lack of interest than a lack of belief. In fact, quite the opposite.
Still, over time Sunday became more synonymous with football than church.
A good decade after I’d last set foot in a church, I got a job as a custodian for the Park Village Elementary School (I know, lofty ambitions). It included an overtime gig opening up the gymnasium for a Nondenominational Christian church group on Sunday mornings. I did it from time-to-time.
The church was called the Vineyard and they were some of the best people I have ever met. They were friendly, jovial, courteous, and kind. And more than that, they seemed genuinely happy. They were able to actively enjoy each others’ company and each moment as it came. The key was their faith.
I grew curious. The pastor readily made time to talk to me about life and belief and whatever else. Those conversations were amazing. They helped define the 2nd half of my intellectual–and spiritual–life.
It started me on a journey to rediscover my own faith.
Only problem was, try as I might, I couldn’t find it.
I am a student of history and philosophy. And in studying those fields, I learned things that irreparably damaged my road back to religion.
I have a much more objective understanding of the Bible’s historical context. I see syllogism and allegory in the Christian Bible. I do see truth, but what I don’t see is even remotely believable literality. I know how the Bible came to be. I know where many of the stories come from. I know how the meaning of certain biblical terms has changed over time. I see how the various denominations pick and choose what they want to believe.
Besides, time exalts and mysticizes history. People freely believe that phenomena considered impossible now was somehow possible a thousand years ago. I understand why they believe it and why they would want to. I just can’t believe the same.
When I try to look at Christianity objectively–which is virtually impossible since Christianity is the foundation of my values, morality, and culture–I see the same holes and inconsistencies that I do with, say, Islam or Mormonism.
However, I also understand the very human desire to continue, to not end once this life is over. I share that desire vehemently. I likewise share the desire to have a greater purpose for my life. I’ve felt the comfort of believing there is a God who loves us–me as much as anyone–and wants the best for us all. I, too, can see the beauty of a world without suffering.
Those hopes are indescribably powerful. I think they’re essential to the human composition. It drives our social and moral evolution. It’s why I find logic in Pascal’s Wager. It’s also why I find Atheism lacking even though I find it logical.
But these are issues of faith, not religion.
Religion is the rulebook. And I admit, part of me wants that rulebook. Part of me wants the religion of Jesus Christ to be true, for cruel and evil people to suffer while the virtuous are blessed for eternity.
But the rest of me looks at some of those rules (eating shellfish being an abomination, stoning disobedient children, the submission of woman) and not only do I NOT accept it, I don’t see Providence in it. All I see human judgmentalism in those rules. I only see inequity.
And I don’t buy the whole “His ways are mysterious” bit. Strange, he made it possible to understand astrophysics yet made an enigma-hidden-in-a-riddle-lost-in-a-mystery out of why eating lobster is a sin.
I find the idea that someone must burn in hell with rapists and murderers–simply because they are gay, and despite any other qualities they might possess–not only offensive, but ludicrous.
What’s more, I don’t believe in evil. I think people learn and continue cycles of abuse and neglect. People have chemical imbalances and structural deficiencies in their brains. People get indoctrinated into belief systems that embrace fear and anger and hatred–and they have mental and emotional compositions that make them susceptible to that kind of messaging.
Not only could an omnipotent God see those potentially insurmountable flaws within us, It would have CREATED them. Damning or saving us based on a rulebook, inattentive of those shortcomings, is cruel and unfair. It’s like condemning someone for being blind. What “loving” God, ruled by nothing but Its own Will, would choose to be cruel and unfair?
However, from a humanperspective, punishing those that hurt others can be appealing. The thought of Adolf Hitler burning in hell makes me all warm and fuzzy. And I don’t possess the magnanimity to wish him anything better, but that only reflects the cruelty within me.
So, for the above reasons (and enough more to fill a book), I came to the conclusion that I reject religion. It’s a personal conclusion, of course. That decision is profoundly individual. And it’s trans-rational. Echoing the sentiments of St. Paul, it has to make sense and it has to feel right.
I consider myself a spiritual atheist. I could perhaps call the force of creation in the universe, God. The fact that everything, from the most insubstantial subatomic particle to the most enlightened abstract thought drives instinctively and unstoppably toward organization suggests, to my mind, a possible kind of intelligence. However, the nature of that intelligence is factually unknown and unknowable thus far. Will Durant expressed it best:
We are moments in eternity and fragments in infinity. For such forked atoms to describe the universe, or the Supreme Being, must make the planets tremble with mirth.
As for what happens when we die, I can’t say, and I don’t think that’s the point. I hope there is some kind of eternal me (and you!) that lives on. I continue to hope, but it’s not my focus.
Some might find such a perspective restricting. I find it liberating. I search for what affirms and optimizes existence. It’s things like life and love, compassion, kindness, honesty, sincerity, truth, friends and family, faith and philosophy, music and story. They all profoundly enrich the experience of being.
I can’t imagine that any wise and loving God would wish for us anything else.