Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Atheism and Politics
There should be a separation between Church and State.
This is a fundamental tenet in American culture and in some others as well. It's a conclusion we reached through many hard years of fighting religious wars in the West. It's a lesson still not learned in most other cultures, who pay dearly for their foolishness.
The question of the day is this: if religion should be kept out of politics, ought atheism be kept out as well? I'm not entirely sure what that means, but it strikes me that instilling a policy of unbelief in religion at a political level is itself a kind of act of faith. Maybe what we atheists should do is to allow religious people to be in politics all they want, just so long as they don't set policy or pass legislation based on that religion. On the other side, atheists ought not be able to set policy or pass legislation based on their disbelief in or distaste for religion. I reckon that would extend to all religions.
It's rather a moot point since religion is so deeply embedded in our political dialog. I merely raise the point, to record it here.
This is a fundamental tenet in American culture and in some others as well. It's a conclusion we reached through many hard years of fighting religious wars in the West. It's a lesson still not learned in most other cultures, who pay dearly for their foolishness.
The question of the day is this: if religion should be kept out of politics, ought atheism be kept out as well? I'm not entirely sure what that means, but it strikes me that instilling a policy of unbelief in religion at a political level is itself a kind of act of faith. Maybe what we atheists should do is to allow religious people to be in politics all they want, just so long as they don't set policy or pass legislation based on that religion. On the other side, atheists ought not be able to set policy or pass legislation based on their disbelief in or distaste for religion. I reckon that would extend to all religions.
It's rather a moot point since religion is so deeply embedded in our political dialog. I merely raise the point, to record it here.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Justice is Done
This has been bugging me, so I'm writing it in order to be done with it.
From the day the SEALs nailed bin Laden, from the very day of the event, I have heard people talk about how justice has been done, how his death closes a chapter, that the families of his victims have gained a degree of closure.
Et cetera, inter alia.
What bothers me? Am I some sort of terrorist-lover? Well, my discomfort concerns not one dead Arab but rather the debate in this country over the death penalty. It concerns what is good, for geese and for ganders.
If the right thing to do, to avenge the deaths of bin Laden's victims, is to hunt the muther down and kill him; if not only the victims but their families and indeed even all of their countrymen cry out for blood; if it's not only right but necessary that such a killer himself be killed, then surely the same must hold true for the domestic serial killer, the child-murderer, or the plain ol' ordinary cold-blooded homicidal maniac.
If it's justice, then it's justice.
I kept waiting to hear someone make an excuse, a rationale, a distinction. This killing was justified because it was in connection with war. However absurd a definition of war this present activity may be, it would at least provide the pretense of a distinction. I'm a historian. I understand how governments have to pretend things are true that are not.
But I never heard the strained rhetoric, the disingenuous lie. All I heard was an honest and heart-felt emotion. Good. The sonofabitch is dead. He had it coming.
Fellow citizens, I put it to you. If the death penalty is wrong, then killing bin Laden was wrong and those SEALs are murderers. Or, if you prefer, what was done over there in Pakistan in our name was right, and every state in the Union should hang 'em high. Death by automatic weapon, at the very least.
There, I've said my piece.
From the day the SEALs nailed bin Laden, from the very day of the event, I have heard people talk about how justice has been done, how his death closes a chapter, that the families of his victims have gained a degree of closure.
Et cetera, inter alia.
What bothers me? Am I some sort of terrorist-lover? Well, my discomfort concerns not one dead Arab but rather the debate in this country over the death penalty. It concerns what is good, for geese and for ganders.
If the right thing to do, to avenge the deaths of bin Laden's victims, is to hunt the muther down and kill him; if not only the victims but their families and indeed even all of their countrymen cry out for blood; if it's not only right but necessary that such a killer himself be killed, then surely the same must hold true for the domestic serial killer, the child-murderer, or the plain ol' ordinary cold-blooded homicidal maniac.
If it's justice, then it's justice.
I kept waiting to hear someone make an excuse, a rationale, a distinction. This killing was justified because it was in connection with war. However absurd a definition of war this present activity may be, it would at least provide the pretense of a distinction. I'm a historian. I understand how governments have to pretend things are true that are not.
But I never heard the strained rhetoric, the disingenuous lie. All I heard was an honest and heart-felt emotion. Good. The sonofabitch is dead. He had it coming.
Fellow citizens, I put it to you. If the death penalty is wrong, then killing bin Laden was wrong and those SEALs are murderers. Or, if you prefer, what was done over there in Pakistan in our name was right, and every state in the Union should hang 'em high. Death by automatic weapon, at the very least.
There, I've said my piece.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Atheists march
A headline today reads
Spanish atheist march banned in Easter Week
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-13158138
This business highlights one of my chief complaints about my fellow atheists; namely, confusing atheism with religious antagonism. These Spanish so-called atheists wanted to march right past Catholic churches (hard to avoid, in Madrid!) during Easter ceremonies. Their intent plainly is to provoke.
I have no problem with provocation. By all means tweak those Catholic noses, some of which deserve tweaking. And make your point that in Spain, separation of Church and State is a bit of a shadow play.
But don't call it atheism. This is anti-Catholicism, unadulterated.
The atheist doesn't care a fig for the outrages of this or that religion, or at least it's not his atheism that is outraged. His moral sensibilities may be, and that's fine. Any of us can condemn any number of aspects of any number of religions on the grounds of human decency or violation of civil law, and so on.
But atheism merely says there are no gods. It's a simple enough proposition, self-sufficient. Many people, though, make the moral leap to the active statement that believing in gods is Bad. And should be not only condemned but fought against.
I disagree. Believing in gods is not Bad, it's merely silly. Pointless. Delusional. I'll condemn evil done in the name of anything, gods included, but then I'm condemning the man who did the act, not the ideology that he employed to justify his actions to himself. Hate the sinner, not the sin, to counterfeit a phrase.
I'm not glad that the marches in Madrid were banned. Yes there probably would have been clashes and the civil authorities were probably behaving responsibly, but you still have to let people march and let the confrontations happen and then clean up afterward. Let them dance, let them dance, although they may not be the only ones [Young: 3:8-11]
But call yourselves Catholic Haters of Spain or something. Not atheists. You give us a bad rep.
Spanish atheist march banned in Easter Week
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-13158138
This business highlights one of my chief complaints about my fellow atheists; namely, confusing atheism with religious antagonism. These Spanish so-called atheists wanted to march right past Catholic churches (hard to avoid, in Madrid!) during Easter ceremonies. Their intent plainly is to provoke.
I have no problem with provocation. By all means tweak those Catholic noses, some of which deserve tweaking. And make your point that in Spain, separation of Church and State is a bit of a shadow play.
But don't call it atheism. This is anti-Catholicism, unadulterated.
The atheist doesn't care a fig for the outrages of this or that religion, or at least it's not his atheism that is outraged. His moral sensibilities may be, and that's fine. Any of us can condemn any number of aspects of any number of religions on the grounds of human decency or violation of civil law, and so on.
But atheism merely says there are no gods. It's a simple enough proposition, self-sufficient. Many people, though, make the moral leap to the active statement that believing in gods is Bad. And should be not only condemned but fought against.
I disagree. Believing in gods is not Bad, it's merely silly. Pointless. Delusional. I'll condemn evil done in the name of anything, gods included, but then I'm condemning the man who did the act, not the ideology that he employed to justify his actions to himself. Hate the sinner, not the sin, to counterfeit a phrase.
I'm not glad that the marches in Madrid were banned. Yes there probably would have been clashes and the civil authorities were probably behaving responsibly, but you still have to let people march and let the confrontations happen and then clean up afterward. Let them dance, let them dance, although they may not be the only ones [Young: 3:8-11]
But call yourselves Catholic Haters of Spain or something. Not atheists. You give us a bad rep.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Al-Jazeerah at TED
A fascinating and moving talk from a report who was there, more than once.
He makes a wonderful statement about nine minutes in. He says the oppressive governments "had lost the power to deceive." What a great summation of the core nature of the State.
The other inspiring moment for me was at the end where he talks about how it's the young people in these countries who are leading the way, who have more wisdom than the old people. That does this old radical's heart much good, to see someone ... anyone ... anywhere ... doing what we failed to do. Bring real change.
He makes a wonderful statement about nine minutes in. He says the oppressive governments "had lost the power to deceive." What a great summation of the core nature of the State.
The other inspiring moment for me was at the end where he talks about how it's the young people in these countries who are leading the way, who have more wisdom than the old people. That does this old radical's heart much good, to see someone ... anyone ... anywhere ... doing what we failed to do. Bring real change.
Friday, February 25, 2011
On the Uses of History
Sometimes I think the main use of history is for the nurturing of old grudges, to keep the wounds open. When I hear some commentator say how in order to understand a region we must keep in mind its history, what he is really saying is that every slight, every outrage, every transgression must be dragged out over and over, so that each side might feel justified in its anger.
Surely this is how God sees the world. Every sin is present, every failing fresh. No wonder there's no forgiveness to be had, except by special dispensation. God is no historian, in this view; God is a politician. The historian understands that the past is past. The politician insists the past is present, which perspective only condemns it to be our future as well.
Surely this is how God sees the world. Every sin is present, every failing fresh. No wonder there's no forgiveness to be had, except by special dispensation. God is no historian, in this view; God is a politician. The historian understands that the past is past. The politician insists the past is present, which perspective only condemns it to be our future as well.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
On Divine Love
For God so loved the world that He said "aw screw it, everybody goes straight to Heaven when they die, and my kid can stay home."
-- Skip 3:16
-- Skip 3:16
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Coming Irrelevance of the Nation-State
Since this is now my Last Blog Standing, I'll be writing about more than just atheism here, and this is the first of such posts.
Recent events, along with the history courses I teach, have caused me to think a good deal about the nature of power relations in our world. We've had something called the nation-state for three or four centuries now, depending on how fussy one is about definitions. In its pure form, there is perfect correlation between nation and state; that is, between a "people" (natio) and the geo-political entity that governs that people.
This notion is extremely powerful, though it's been the source of endless grief, as drawing clear lines around a people turns out to be rather difficult. Far more blood has been shed between nations than was ever shed between religions. Nevertheless, it appears to be the only political form we can imagine.
There are some awkward exceptions, the United States being one of them. While other nation-states struggle with ethnic groups, there is still something like Russians and Chinese, but the only people who can lay claim to being Americans are the subjugated native peoples. We aren't a nation-state, and we've struggled with that hard fact for most of our history.
There may, however, be alternatives. The chief one may be the corporate state. One need not examine multinational corporations very deeply to see that they are very nearly invulnerable to the authority of a given nation-state. The multinational represents a huge collection of resources -- capital, people, technology -- in any given nation-state that is utterly outside that state's ability to command. Could states be built around corporations? Possibly, though it's not likely to happen soon. Corporations are getting a free ride from their host states. They don't need to provide security, social services, infrastructure, defense. All that is left to the state. We won't see a corporate state until nation-states begin to fail on a large scale.
And we do have failing states. The phrase has even entered the vocabulary. It should become possible to begin to chart the spread of failed states across the planet. It's a phrase that could not have existed in the 19thc.
We're beginning to recognize on a profound level that economics are quite beyond the ability of any one nation to control. This occurs at the most fundamental levels of food and water and continues right through manufacturing, technology, and communications. If we are indeed moving to a global village, then the nation-state is plainly irrelevant if not downright obstructionist.
What other alternatives exist? The religious state is a possibility. It's been a contender all along, but it's profoundly flawed. This is because religion is fundamentally a social expression and has no abstract or practical validity. Every time religion has tried to manage at a state level, it has fractured into schism. Every faction is an expression of its local culture, of its natio. There can be horrible tyranny for a time, but no enduring success in a religious state.
Another alternative has occurred to me, spurred by an observation that nation-states cut right across ecological boundaries. What about an eco-state? The most obvious candidate would be a river system with all its drainage. As ecological concerns begin to outweigh other matters, it might make sense to organize human society around such basic planetary factors.
Impractical? Of course. Everything is impractical until it is done. I don't see solutions but I do see possibilities. The corporate state is one. The religious state is another. The ecological state is a third.
I prefer the third. It is my fate, however, to live and die in a nation-state.
Recent events, along with the history courses I teach, have caused me to think a good deal about the nature of power relations in our world. We've had something called the nation-state for three or four centuries now, depending on how fussy one is about definitions. In its pure form, there is perfect correlation between nation and state; that is, between a "people" (natio) and the geo-political entity that governs that people.
This notion is extremely powerful, though it's been the source of endless grief, as drawing clear lines around a people turns out to be rather difficult. Far more blood has been shed between nations than was ever shed between religions. Nevertheless, it appears to be the only political form we can imagine.
There are some awkward exceptions, the United States being one of them. While other nation-states struggle with ethnic groups, there is still something like Russians and Chinese, but the only people who can lay claim to being Americans are the subjugated native peoples. We aren't a nation-state, and we've struggled with that hard fact for most of our history.
There may, however, be alternatives. The chief one may be the corporate state. One need not examine multinational corporations very deeply to see that they are very nearly invulnerable to the authority of a given nation-state. The multinational represents a huge collection of resources -- capital, people, technology -- in any given nation-state that is utterly outside that state's ability to command. Could states be built around corporations? Possibly, though it's not likely to happen soon. Corporations are getting a free ride from their host states. They don't need to provide security, social services, infrastructure, defense. All that is left to the state. We won't see a corporate state until nation-states begin to fail on a large scale.
And we do have failing states. The phrase has even entered the vocabulary. It should become possible to begin to chart the spread of failed states across the planet. It's a phrase that could not have existed in the 19thc.
We're beginning to recognize on a profound level that economics are quite beyond the ability of any one nation to control. This occurs at the most fundamental levels of food and water and continues right through manufacturing, technology, and communications. If we are indeed moving to a global village, then the nation-state is plainly irrelevant if not downright obstructionist.
What other alternatives exist? The religious state is a possibility. It's been a contender all along, but it's profoundly flawed. This is because religion is fundamentally a social expression and has no abstract or practical validity. Every time religion has tried to manage at a state level, it has fractured into schism. Every faction is an expression of its local culture, of its natio. There can be horrible tyranny for a time, but no enduring success in a religious state.
Another alternative has occurred to me, spurred by an observation that nation-states cut right across ecological boundaries. What about an eco-state? The most obvious candidate would be a river system with all its drainage. As ecological concerns begin to outweigh other matters, it might make sense to organize human society around such basic planetary factors.
Impractical? Of course. Everything is impractical until it is done. I don't see solutions but I do see possibilities. The corporate state is one. The religious state is another. The ecological state is a third.
I prefer the third. It is my fate, however, to live and die in a nation-state.
Monday, January 17, 2011
A Sense of Urgency
Never having been a religious man, I don't know how it is for them, but for us atheists, growing old gives one a sense of urgency. We know our time is playing out, that it's now or never, that we'd best buckle down and see about Getting Things Done.
I work best under a deadline. Pun intended.
Knowing that this life is but a pilgrimage through a vale of tears, that all our mortal endeavors are as dew fading on the grass, this all seems to me would make a fellow complacent in his later years. Makes him want to kick back and have a beer. Ball game's on soon. No time to mow the lawn or paint the house, so let's just fix a snack and settle in. Better times are comin'.
I don't get it. I honestly don't. How is this a better way to approach life? How is it more human to devalue human activity? For that's what all religions do. Forget about what you do here. Earthly things are trivial and corrupt, worth nothing in the divine scheme. It's eternity that counts. This holds for all religions, mind you. Even the ones that talk about reincarnation; it's the same message only strung out longer. There, what you do in this life counts, but only in context of your past and future reincarnations. You have one big, long life, with lots of iterations, but it's all justified only in terms of eternity. The Big Payoff. You've got it made only when you've left it all behind. Join with the Great Consciousness that is God and spend the rest of eternity laughing your ass off at all us poor cockroaches.
Well, I'll take Archy and Mehitabel any day of the week. Wotthehell.
What we do here does matter. What we do here is in fact the only thing that matters at all, insofar as mattering has any meaning whatsoever. Each of us should spend our time being the best us we know how to be, knowing that we have only this one throw of the dice. This is for me, as the song says, the essence of true romance. Its meaning is far more profound than any metaphysical so-called insight because this is human meaning. This is my-two-hands, dirt-under-your-feet meaning. This is meaning hard-won and shared, not meaning handed down and forever inscrutable.
The clock is ticking and ain't it a cheery sound? No it ain't, not at all. All clocks wind down. But I'll take that sound over the silence of the Spheres or the dreary drone of Om. Any time. All the time. It means we're still here and we still have things to do, meaning to create, mysteries to solve. That's a far better thing to have pressing upon one's heart than the awful, fruitless notion that we all need merely to get through this misery and wait upon Judgment Day in order to be justified.
I work best under a deadline. Pun intended.
Knowing that this life is but a pilgrimage through a vale of tears, that all our mortal endeavors are as dew fading on the grass, this all seems to me would make a fellow complacent in his later years. Makes him want to kick back and have a beer. Ball game's on soon. No time to mow the lawn or paint the house, so let's just fix a snack and settle in. Better times are comin'.
I don't get it. I honestly don't. How is this a better way to approach life? How is it more human to devalue human activity? For that's what all religions do. Forget about what you do here. Earthly things are trivial and corrupt, worth nothing in the divine scheme. It's eternity that counts. This holds for all religions, mind you. Even the ones that talk about reincarnation; it's the same message only strung out longer. There, what you do in this life counts, but only in context of your past and future reincarnations. You have one big, long life, with lots of iterations, but it's all justified only in terms of eternity. The Big Payoff. You've got it made only when you've left it all behind. Join with the Great Consciousness that is God and spend the rest of eternity laughing your ass off at all us poor cockroaches.
Well, I'll take Archy and Mehitabel any day of the week. Wotthehell.
What we do here does matter. What we do here is in fact the only thing that matters at all, insofar as mattering has any meaning whatsoever. Each of us should spend our time being the best us we know how to be, knowing that we have only this one throw of the dice. This is for me, as the song says, the essence of true romance. Its meaning is far more profound than any metaphysical so-called insight because this is human meaning. This is my-two-hands, dirt-under-your-feet meaning. This is meaning hard-won and shared, not meaning handed down and forever inscrutable.
The clock is ticking and ain't it a cheery sound? No it ain't, not at all. All clocks wind down. But I'll take that sound over the silence of the Spheres or the dreary drone of Om. Any time. All the time. It means we're still here and we still have things to do, meaning to create, mysteries to solve. That's a far better thing to have pressing upon one's heart than the awful, fruitless notion that we all need merely to get through this misery and wait upon Judgment Day in order to be justified.
Friday, December 03, 2010
21 May 2011
Some things will always make the Smiling Atheist smile. This is one of them:
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20101201/NEWS06/12010350/-1/testpage/Nashville+billboards+claim+Jesus+will+return+May+21++2011
Here's one of the things I don't figure. If we know the end is coming, and we know the nature of that end (most go to Hell, the Elect are saved), then is there really anything to do? I doubt a last-second conversion is going to do the trick. Should we really all gather on a hilltop? Why? I figure, Jesus can just come over to the house if he's got business with me. Otherwise, I'm just going to watch Dexter until the lights go out.
Or, alternatively, I do believe the drill is that there will be an anti-Christ and there's that thousand-year reign and such. We've got plenty of time. Just relax. You'd still better mow the lawn.
Then there's this, from the article. Family Radio says they "want to save their friends and neighbors from God's judgments." Pardon? It's in the power of mortals to save other mortals from God's judgment? Kewl.
Finally, is there any significance to the fact that 21 May 2011 is on a Saturday? Score one for the Seventh-Day Adventists?
Well. At least the Christian God will end the world before those rotten Mayans can.
On a more serious note, the passage from Mark 13:32 (you'll have to read the whole business for the background) says something really interesting to me. Specifically,
"But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father. "
The Father knows a thing that the Son does not? Extraordinary! That seems to undercut the post-Nicaean understanding of the nature of the Trinity. I really, honestly do feel sorry for the untold legions of theologians who tried so valiantly to bring any sort of consistency out of the chaotic collection that is the Christian Bible.
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20101201/NEWS06/12010350/-1/testpage/Nashville+billboards+claim+Jesus+will+return+May+21++2011
Here's one of the things I don't figure. If we know the end is coming, and we know the nature of that end (most go to Hell, the Elect are saved), then is there really anything to do? I doubt a last-second conversion is going to do the trick. Should we really all gather on a hilltop? Why? I figure, Jesus can just come over to the house if he's got business with me. Otherwise, I'm just going to watch Dexter until the lights go out.
Or, alternatively, I do believe the drill is that there will be an anti-Christ and there's that thousand-year reign and such. We've got plenty of time. Just relax. You'd still better mow the lawn.
Then there's this, from the article. Family Radio says they "want to save their friends and neighbors from God's judgments." Pardon? It's in the power of mortals to save other mortals from God's judgment? Kewl.
Finally, is there any significance to the fact that 21 May 2011 is on a Saturday? Score one for the Seventh-Day Adventists?
Well. At least the Christian God will end the world before those rotten Mayans can.
On a more serious note, the passage from Mark 13:32 (you'll have to read the whole business for the background) says something really interesting to me. Specifically,
"But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father. "
The Father knows a thing that the Son does not? Extraordinary! That seems to undercut the post-Nicaean understanding of the nature of the Trinity. I really, honestly do feel sorry for the untold legions of theologians who tried so valiantly to bring any sort of consistency out of the chaotic collection that is the Christian Bible.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
I'll have a vent, eh
I got my stick an' I got my hat
You best believe, honey, I'm all dat
Benny and his Jets today attacked "atheist extremism" and "aggressive secularism". I suppose his pontiffiness would be happier with passive secularism or atheist moderation.
First of all, let me say that atheist extremism in the defense of liberty is no crime.
Second, let me say that anyone wearing that much gold simply cannot be taken seriously.
There's a reason why the Brits went on a tear about Popery and His He-ness ought to recognize that he's a guest in the Isles and not take such a popier-than-thou tone with his hosts. Then again, popes have a long history of scolding. They acquired the buttinsky disease early on and have never got over it, not even when told to get lost.
Doesn't he look like he has a jet pack on and is getting ready to launch?
I don't mind folks being Catholic. To each his own, sez I. But I do mind when any leader decides that he gets to decide, regardless of the topic. I hold to this principle aggressively, thankee kindly. I also like my history straight, hold the holy water, and his statement that Christianity is the foundation of British freedoms goes so far wide of the mark that it's both irritating and laughable at the same time. I'm not sure which freedoms he had in mind when saying that; I doubt any particular ones at all. It sounds like the sort of fuzzy-minded generalizations that I try hard to teach my students to avoid.
Wouldn't you like to see some kung-fu moves with that Staff of Holiness +6?
What few responses I've read from the secularists sound decidedly un-aggressive, and none of the atheist remarks are in the least bit extreme, and nary a neo-nazi among 'em. I suppose the pope knows some folks I don't.
My recommendation to Il Papa is: stick to the kindly-old-man remarks like the ones you made later today in Glasgow. Encourage the young priests, fortify the faithful, and don't presume to judge the rest of us. I think your User's Manual has a passage about that somewhere.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Spiritualism and Religion
Spiritualism. You know the type.
"I believe in God but I don't believe in any organized religion."
By which they mean: I've chosen all the warmFuzzyHappy parts about religion and keep away from the oppressiveRegulatedScary bits.
This is nonsense and worse than nonsense. Nobody believes in a God without the context of religion because that's how we learned about God in the first place. We read about Him. We saw the movie. The choice of the spiritualist isn't the choice of a genuine religious, it's the choice of the protester (not to say 'protestant'), the half-committed, the revisionist. It's a person who refuses to accept the discipline and instruction of an organized religion while stubbornly claiming that his happy-blanket is just as good or better. That may be a comfort to the individual, but it offers nothing to the human condition.
And the Smilin' Atheist says that if you aren't offering something to the human condition, then you aren't offering anything at all. Mysticism goes nowhere. Monasticism is the epitome of self-indulgence. "Get on up-a", to quote the sage, "get on the scene."
True, spiritualism doesn't necessarily imply quietism, but that's the direction in which it tends. As for me, give me that old-time religion. Gods and priests and rituals and rules ... I get that. I understand that, where it comes from, where it goes, and where it doesn't go. When you make up your own rules nobody gets to judge you; it keeps you safe, but it also checks you out from the human condition, which is fundamentally social. Man is a political animal, as a former rock star says, and only the idiot pretends he is not part of the polis. If you *are* going to drop out, at least do so to form a new society. That's what the Protestants did, and they get props for that at least.
The spiritualist, though, offers nothing, asks for nothing, abides by nothing, and yet claims to have something. What is it, you ask. It's personal, comes the reply. Oh. Well. Off you go then. The Smilin' Atheist sez: only religions have belief; spiritualists have make-believe. It's all nonsense, but there are grades of nonsense, ain't there?
"I believe in God but I don't believe in any organized religion."
By which they mean: I've chosen all the warmFuzzyHappy parts about religion and keep away from the oppressiveRegulatedScary bits.
This is nonsense and worse than nonsense. Nobody believes in a God without the context of religion because that's how we learned about God in the first place. We read about Him. We saw the movie. The choice of the spiritualist isn't the choice of a genuine religious, it's the choice of the protester (not to say 'protestant'), the half-committed, the revisionist. It's a person who refuses to accept the discipline and instruction of an organized religion while stubbornly claiming that his happy-blanket is just as good or better. That may be a comfort to the individual, but it offers nothing to the human condition.
And the Smilin' Atheist says that if you aren't offering something to the human condition, then you aren't offering anything at all. Mysticism goes nowhere. Monasticism is the epitome of self-indulgence. "Get on up-a", to quote the sage, "get on the scene."
True, spiritualism doesn't necessarily imply quietism, but that's the direction in which it tends. As for me, give me that old-time religion. Gods and priests and rituals and rules ... I get that. I understand that, where it comes from, where it goes, and where it doesn't go. When you make up your own rules nobody gets to judge you; it keeps you safe, but it also checks you out from the human condition, which is fundamentally social. Man is a political animal, as a former rock star says, and only the idiot pretends he is not part of the polis. If you *are* going to drop out, at least do so to form a new society. That's what the Protestants did, and they get props for that at least.
The spiritualist, though, offers nothing, asks for nothing, abides by nothing, and yet claims to have something. What is it, you ask. It's personal, comes the reply. Oh. Well. Off you go then. The Smilin' Atheist sez: only religions have belief; spiritualists have make-believe. It's all nonsense, but there are grades of nonsense, ain't there?
Monday, August 09, 2010
How Religion Happens
I've been meaning to comment on this for a few months. Not long after the earthquake in Haiti, a few weeks after, I heard a news story. The reporter interviewed a local who talked about the destruction of this and that building. She spoke specifically of the destruction of churches, always a somewhat awkward bit when dealing with natural disasters.
Yes, she said, many churches were destroyed in the earthquake, and many of the faithful were having a hard time understanding why God should have allowed (or caused) such a thing. She went on to observe, however, that in her church, the crucifix didn't fall down, even though the rest of the building did. Moreover, the same had been the case in churches all across Haiti. The churches fell, but not the crucifixes.
Thus were the faithful justified in their faith.
Now, chances are, this nice lady did not go around Haiti personally verifying this little factoid. It's practically the very definition of faith that one doesn't check, one simply believes. I have no doubt that this "fact" has passed into legend, at least within her own circle if not more widely, where it will be immune from checking for ever more.
And it hit me then and there: this is how religion happens. Faced with calamity, we struggle to make sense out of the random cruelty of the universe. We see a thing, or think we see it, or we hear of a thing, and this thing both justifies and comforts us, so we cling to it and nurture it, and we would never dream of subjecting it to anything like objective verification. It's as if we believed we'd learned to fly by flapping our arms. Why would a fellow want to stop flapping his arms? Just to check? Get outta here.
So, in churches all across Haiti, the buildings fell but the crucifixes stood, and surely this Means Something, though people won't say what. They'll just repeat the story to one another and nod their heads and be comforted.
Flap, flap, flap.
Yes, she said, many churches were destroyed in the earthquake, and many of the faithful were having a hard time understanding why God should have allowed (or caused) such a thing. She went on to observe, however, that in her church, the crucifix didn't fall down, even though the rest of the building did. Moreover, the same had been the case in churches all across Haiti. The churches fell, but not the crucifixes.
Thus were the faithful justified in their faith.
Now, chances are, this nice lady did not go around Haiti personally verifying this little factoid. It's practically the very definition of faith that one doesn't check, one simply believes. I have no doubt that this "fact" has passed into legend, at least within her own circle if not more widely, where it will be immune from checking for ever more.
And it hit me then and there: this is how religion happens. Faced with calamity, we struggle to make sense out of the random cruelty of the universe. We see a thing, or think we see it, or we hear of a thing, and this thing both justifies and comforts us, so we cling to it and nurture it, and we would never dream of subjecting it to anything like objective verification. It's as if we believed we'd learned to fly by flapping our arms. Why would a fellow want to stop flapping his arms? Just to check? Get outta here.
So, in churches all across Haiti, the buildings fell but the crucifixes stood, and surely this Means Something, though people won't say what. They'll just repeat the story to one another and nod their heads and be comforted.
Flap, flap, flap.
Friday, July 16, 2010
When You Wish Upon A Star
Makes no difference who you are.
Or where you are. Or what church you attend. Or what you believe or disbelieve. Or which pair of socks you wore last Thursday.
This is really, really difficult for us humans to accept. Like a child denied a treat, we continue to find ways to expect, to ask, to hope. And then, when some hoped-for thing actually happens, we naturally attribute it to that church, that belief, that pair of socks, because otherwise we must face the universe without hope.
I'm okay with that. In fact, I'm profoundly satisfied with that. I want to look at the universe without flinching. I don't find the universe to be exciting or beautiful (pace Carl Sagan); rather, I find it to be largely empty with random acts of violence, a subset of which I happen to like. The universe does occasionally surprise me, but mostly it's pretty dull. Human beings, otoh, are eternally surprising. Yes, the universe will one day snuff out all of us, but that doesn't make us any less valued, no more than does the fact that a flower will one day fade lessen in the slightest its present beauty.
So, a pox on the desperate hopefulness of religions. Whether its a hope for heaven or nirvana or just avoiding the wrath of the sky god -- or indeed the hope for being cured of a disease or to have the home team win or to get out of this damned foxhole alive -- no matter, I say, it all detracts from our humanity. It demeans us and lessens us. Let us have an end to chanting, an end to prayer circles, an end to offerings. Let us stop trying to petition the Lord with prayer. He ain't at home anyway.
What if all the energy spent in prayerful wishing were spent in doing, instead?
Or where you are. Or what church you attend. Or what you believe or disbelieve. Or which pair of socks you wore last Thursday.
This is really, really difficult for us humans to accept. Like a child denied a treat, we continue to find ways to expect, to ask, to hope. And then, when some hoped-for thing actually happens, we naturally attribute it to that church, that belief, that pair of socks, because otherwise we must face the universe without hope.
I'm okay with that. In fact, I'm profoundly satisfied with that. I want to look at the universe without flinching. I don't find the universe to be exciting or beautiful (pace Carl Sagan); rather, I find it to be largely empty with random acts of violence, a subset of which I happen to like. The universe does occasionally surprise me, but mostly it's pretty dull. Human beings, otoh, are eternally surprising. Yes, the universe will one day snuff out all of us, but that doesn't make us any less valued, no more than does the fact that a flower will one day fade lessen in the slightest its present beauty.
So, a pox on the desperate hopefulness of religions. Whether its a hope for heaven or nirvana or just avoiding the wrath of the sky god -- or indeed the hope for being cured of a disease or to have the home team win or to get out of this damned foxhole alive -- no matter, I say, it all detracts from our humanity. It demeans us and lessens us. Let us have an end to chanting, an end to prayer circles, an end to offerings. Let us stop trying to petition the Lord with prayer. He ain't at home anyway.
What if all the energy spent in prayerful wishing were spent in doing, instead?
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
The Fool Hath Said In His Heart
This is a repost from my first year of this blog. It's worth re-stating, with some even-handed additions.
There is no God.
There is no Thor, no Odin, Loki, Freya or Jormungand.
There is no Yahweh, there is no Allah.
There is no Zeus, no Ares, no Isis nor Osiris.
There is no Brahma, no Kuber, no Yama or Shiva or Ashwini Kumara.
There is no Anguta, no Shakura, no Selu, Sedna or Ocasta.
There is no jaguar god, no elephant god, no coyote god, no bear god, no guinea pig god.
There is no god of the sun, of the moon, of Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, any of the asteroids, nor of the comets nor of disabled orbiting satellites.
There is no Chenresig, no Maitreya, no Vajrasattva, no Manjushri.
There is no Akongo, no Gua, no Zin or Yo or Mon or So.
What, did you think your particular god was different somehow?
There is no God.
There is no Thor, no Odin, Loki, Freya or Jormungand.
There is no Yahweh, there is no Allah.
There is no Zeus, no Ares, no Isis nor Osiris.
There is no Brahma, no Kuber, no Yama or Shiva or Ashwini Kumara.
There is no Anguta, no Shakura, no Selu, Sedna or Ocasta.
There is no jaguar god, no elephant god, no coyote god, no bear god, no guinea pig god.
There is no god of the sun, of the moon, of Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, any of the asteroids, nor of the comets nor of disabled orbiting satellites.
There is no Chenresig, no Maitreya, no Vajrasattva, no Manjushri.
There is no Akongo, no Gua, no Zin or Yo or Mon or So.
What, did you think your particular god was different somehow?
Monday, May 31, 2010
What Have They Done?
The tragic farce that is the BP oil spill keeps bringing back to mind lines from Jim Morrison.
What have they done to the earth?
What have they done to our fair sister?
Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her,
Stabbed her with knives in the side of the dawn,
Tied her with fences and
Dragged her down.
Well, Jim, we still want the world and we still want it now,
but it turns out that it didn't matter if we had the numbers.
They had the guns.
What have they done to the earth?
What have they done to our fair sister?
Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her,
Stabbed her with knives in the side of the dawn,
Tied her with fences and
Dragged her down.
Well, Jim, we still want the world and we still want it now,
but it turns out that it didn't matter if we had the numbers.
They had the guns.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Why Good Things Happen
Theologians have long wrestled with the thorny question of why God, who is Good, would allow bad things to happen (by which the religious always mean "happen to *people*"). I will not try to duplicate or even to discuss that conversation, for it's been well handled over the centuries. I think what explanations there are, are about as good as they're going to get.
What strikes me is no one discusses the logical inverse of this proposition. I personally have no trouble at all wondering why bad things happen. They just happen. Rocks fall and every once in a while some poor sap is underneath one of them. There's nothing really to explain, once you get past the physics.
It is a wonder, though, why good things happen. I suppose this is the great conundrum for the atheist. The religious don't have to explain it because God causes all good things, right? Problem solved. They then turn to the atheist, smiling smugly, and ask how in a world without God, anything good could possibly happen.
The question stems in part from the view of the religious that humanity is fundamentally flawed. Pick your religion, they all hold the same tenet: there is Something Better out there and it ain't us. So we need some sort of help, some discipline, some forgiveness, some catastrophe to happen and then and only then can we hope to become Better.
Wouldn't it be interesting, though, to suppose that neither Good nor Bad is in need of explanation. Humans do good things (or bad things) because we do things and some of these things are judged to be good and some are judged to be bad. We are judge, jury, prosecution, defense, the accused, and the victim. There is no god but us and we are our own prophet, thank you very much.
If you look at any particular time and any particular place, you'll find there's quite a bit more Good than Bad going on. Bad gets all the press, and Good is usually rather boring, but in sheer quantity over the course of twenty-four hours, basic decency wins. We're usually polite to one another. Most of us care for each other most of the time. Most of us like doing kind things for each other. What's to explain?
Yes, we can go grievously wrong from time to time. Spectacularly wrong. But it's from time to time, not all the time. It's some of us, not most of us. After all, being wicked takes work.
So, why do Good things happen? Because there are people.
BTW, if you read sacred texts that narrate the actions of gods, I'd say their record of doing Good Things versus doing Bad Things is heavily weighted toward the Bad. Gods tend to blow shit up, tear things down, kill people and animals. Only very occasionally, indeed almost randomly, do gods build cities, raise families, heal the sick, bring peace and justice, create beauty. Doesn't seem to be their specialty.
What strikes me is no one discusses the logical inverse of this proposition. I personally have no trouble at all wondering why bad things happen. They just happen. Rocks fall and every once in a while some poor sap is underneath one of them. There's nothing really to explain, once you get past the physics.
It is a wonder, though, why good things happen. I suppose this is the great conundrum for the atheist. The religious don't have to explain it because God causes all good things, right? Problem solved. They then turn to the atheist, smiling smugly, and ask how in a world without God, anything good could possibly happen.
The question stems in part from the view of the religious that humanity is fundamentally flawed. Pick your religion, they all hold the same tenet: there is Something Better out there and it ain't us. So we need some sort of help, some discipline, some forgiveness, some catastrophe to happen and then and only then can we hope to become Better.
Wouldn't it be interesting, though, to suppose that neither Good nor Bad is in need of explanation. Humans do good things (or bad things) because we do things and some of these things are judged to be good and some are judged to be bad. We are judge, jury, prosecution, defense, the accused, and the victim. There is no god but us and we are our own prophet, thank you very much.
If you look at any particular time and any particular place, you'll find there's quite a bit more Good than Bad going on. Bad gets all the press, and Good is usually rather boring, but in sheer quantity over the course of twenty-four hours, basic decency wins. We're usually polite to one another. Most of us care for each other most of the time. Most of us like doing kind things for each other. What's to explain?
Yes, we can go grievously wrong from time to time. Spectacularly wrong. But it's from time to time, not all the time. It's some of us, not most of us. After all, being wicked takes work.
So, why do Good things happen? Because there are people.
BTW, if you read sacred texts that narrate the actions of gods, I'd say their record of doing Good Things versus doing Bad Things is heavily weighted toward the Bad. Gods tend to blow shit up, tear things down, kill people and animals. Only very occasionally, indeed almost randomly, do gods build cities, raise families, heal the sick, bring peace and justice, create beauty. Doesn't seem to be their specialty.
Friday, April 02, 2010
Separation of Atheist and State
We're all over separation of Church and State. It's a principle widely recognized in multiple countries, and we all see the unfortunate effects of failing to maintain that separation. But it occurred to me...should there be a separation of atheism and the State?
This gets tricky. The principle is that there should be a separation of the State from the Church, but not that there should be a separation between public service and religiosity or spirituality. Indeed, many feel there's a necessary link between strong spiritual values and being a good public servant. We draw the line, though, at using the power of the State to support any particular Church, or using the doctrine of any particular Church at informing public policy.
See? It gets interesting. I doubt any atheist would argue that the power of the State should be used to support atheism in any form. But what about using the principles of atheism to inform public policy? Should a State be organized on atheistic principles?
I think the answer lies more or less in how we handle religion in the political sphere. Any given legislator is free to have his decisions underpinned, conditioned, influenced, by his personal beliefs, whether these are the beliefs of a religion or of atheism. Those in the judiciary are supposed to follow the Law, rather than any god or philosophy. With a legislator, the democratic assumption is that if the legislator belongs to a religion out of step with his constituency, and lets that influence too greatly influence his legislating, then the people vote him out. That can't happen with a judge. The executive is trickier, as only a handful of executives are elected.
In any event, the thought does bother me a bit. It's all very well to say to keep religion out of politics, but logically that argument should extend to any philosophy, and that doesn't feel right either. Separation of Existentialism and State?
This gets tricky. The principle is that there should be a separation of the State from the Church, but not that there should be a separation between public service and religiosity or spirituality. Indeed, many feel there's a necessary link between strong spiritual values and being a good public servant. We draw the line, though, at using the power of the State to support any particular Church, or using the doctrine of any particular Church at informing public policy.
See? It gets interesting. I doubt any atheist would argue that the power of the State should be used to support atheism in any form. But what about using the principles of atheism to inform public policy? Should a State be organized on atheistic principles?
I think the answer lies more or less in how we handle religion in the political sphere. Any given legislator is free to have his decisions underpinned, conditioned, influenced, by his personal beliefs, whether these are the beliefs of a religion or of atheism. Those in the judiciary are supposed to follow the Law, rather than any god or philosophy. With a legislator, the democratic assumption is that if the legislator belongs to a religion out of step with his constituency, and lets that influence too greatly influence his legislating, then the people vote him out. That can't happen with a judge. The executive is trickier, as only a handful of executives are elected.
In any event, the thought does bother me a bit. It's all very well to say to keep religion out of politics, but logically that argument should extend to any philosophy, and that doesn't feel right either. Separation of Existentialism and State?
Monday, January 11, 2010
Atheist Holidays solved
I thought about it and I have the solution.
Weekends are now officially atheist holidays.
All weekends, except for those that coincide with religious holidays. Wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes.
I like this solution because it gives to atheists more holidays (defined as non-work days) than any religion, which seems just. As for rituals associated with our holidays, I submit that they already exist: movies, parties, gaming, dining, dancing, drinking, hanging out, going out, freaking out. In short, being human. What better way for atheists to celebrate?
Weekends are now officially atheist holidays.
All weekends, except for those that coincide with religious holidays. Wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes.
I like this solution because it gives to atheists more holidays (defined as non-work days) than any religion, which seems just. As for rituals associated with our holidays, I submit that they already exist: movies, parties, gaming, dining, dancing, drinking, hanging out, going out, freaking out. In short, being human. What better way for atheists to celebrate?
Monday, December 14, 2009
Atheist Holidays
Atheists should have their own holidays. It seems a pity to have to piggy-back off of religious holidays--we should have our own. I've looked around a bit and the ideas I've found are pretty lame. Winter solstice? Seriously?
I say we should just appropriate some. New Year's Day seems a good one. So is July 4. Arbor Day is another. April 1, of course. And we certainly should invent Atheism Day. You get the drift.
The more interesting question is: how should atheist holidays be celebrated? With rituals? I'm going to have to think more about this, but I'm too sleepy just now.
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