Tag-Archive for » Atheism «

Sunday, April 05th, 2009 | Author: Moody

One of the most difficult positions held by atheists—a de facto position following of course from the main proposition of atheism—is that there is no divine aid or comfort to be looked for in difficult times. Religious people are fond of saying that they are “carried through the hard times” by their beliefs, by their deity. They say, over and over, that they don’t know how they’d cope if it wasn’t for “God” being there for them. Some of their stories are quite moving, emotionally and psychologically. That there is not a shred of evidence in them, or despite the fact that they are talking about their own actions based on what they believe and not on any demonstrable intervention on the part of said deity, seems lost to them. Their belief is tantamount to proof for them because they sincerely feel that it is what led to their successfully navigating some difficulty or surviving some hardship. It is difficult to argue with this position.

When an atheist says to a believer that there is no “God”, she or he is saying to the believer that there is no help for life’s worst times, that the person is on his or her own. It is something like a psycho-social replay of the scene in Bambi when Bambi’s father looms over the young deer and says, “Your mother can’t be with you anymore”. Of course, in the movie the young Bambi has no choice but to accept this and then deal, without support, with all that follows. In real life, the believer is under no such obligation to accept what the atheist is saying. The atheist is simply and immediately cast in the role of “Bad Person” or “Mistaken Person”, and the believer distances him or herself in at least a psychological way.

I feel a certain amount of distress over this. more…

Wednesday, March 18th, 2009 | Author: Moody

There are bound to be casualties on both sides in the culture wars.  Try as we might to be considerate to those whose feelings and opinions matter to us, we are bound to run into some difficulty that either hurts them or us. If we speak our minds to persons close to us whose position radically differs from ours, we risk making them feel diminishing and alienating them. If we keep our mouths shut and keep our ideas private, we risk feeling passively diminished and alienated.

Ideally, we’d like to be able to be who we are and know that those close to us will accept us. This is especially the wish where family members are concerned. It’s also the type of relationship most likely to expose us to one of the most unfortunate sides of the culture wars. It is the place in our lives where we will probably have to draw strictly defined lines in order to save ourselves and those we care about from long-lasting wounds.

Of course it’s not the only place we will find ourselves drawing such lines. Other relationships (professional or casual) will require us to do so for the sake of civility. But I am mostly concerned here with close interpersonal relationships, especially familial ones, because these are really thorny and fraught with danger.

more…

Sunday, March 15th, 2009 | Author: Moody

Every now and again I get a wistful feeling when I hear someone talking about how satisfying her or his spiritual beliefs are. Such people are often very sincere, I know; when you have a belief, it feels like certain knowledge. So the heartfelt expression of their words is filled with that sense of “real” immanence that looks like bliss. I am not above being moved by the sincerity of others. But I am also aware that this sincerity is no measure of reality or factual truth.

Artist Anthropic Interpretation of God

Artist's Anthropic Interpretation of 'God'

A child can very sincerely pray to Santa Claus to give them some special, achingly desired gift. His or her belief in Santa Claus is utterly genuine, and the faith that Santa will hear his or her prayer is absolute. But we know that there is no fat, jolly, white-bearded old man with apple cheeks and a twinkle always in his eye. We know that it’s us, the adults, the parents, who will provide whatever gifts we can reasonably provide.

Yet there is something so moving about a child’s sincerity. Their mistaken belief (that there is a Santa) can lead us to long for the days when we (if ever we) believed in that benevolent, altruistic old man. It is of course akin to the belief in Providence, under whatever name we choose or grew up with. I hear people talk about how their “relationship” with their deity fulfills them, nurtures them, makes their lives better, makes them better as people and sees them through the hard times. And how could one not want that?

If I believed, though, my world would have to be totally different. You cannot un-see the things you’ve seen; cannot unlearn your life’s education by experience. If I believed, I would have to be someone else. And the thing is, I used to be someone else. I used to believe. I was brought up in a basically Catholic household and, like most children, I accepted things my parents told me were just simply true. I asked the kinds of questions kids ask, and I got the kinds of answers kids get, including the “Well, son, God works in ways we don’t always understand” type of answer. And this might have been enough to keep me keeping on with my family’s religion. To paraphrase what the Bard wrote: I could have been bounded in a nutshell, and counted myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I had bad dreams. Those bad dreams were not just dreams, of course; they were bad experiences that shook my whole little world to the core and broke its foundations.

For some people, this is exactly what brings them to a religion. If I believed, I’d cite those horrors as being high among my reasons for my belief. Really, though, those horrible experiences were simply what unmoored me and set me adrift. I can point to them now and say that they are, collectively, the straw that broke the camel’s back, but the things that led to my atheism were spread out over a much longer period and perhaps were rooted in the days before so many terrible experiences had come to pass.

If I believed now, it would have to be in an entirely unfathomable deity beyond any hope of interaction. If I believed now, I would no more accept Jesus than I would Vishnu or Mithras or Mohamed. If I believed now, I might actually hold all the New Age stuff in even more contempt.

Those wistful feelings I have… I understand them in myself. It is not that being an atheist is somehow inherently lonely. Atheists have the same world believers have. Atheists have families and friends and social lives just like anybody else. What atheists lack is a delusional, childlike buffer against the realities of the world. And sometimes it feels like that’s a real loss. When someone else can take up a rosary or join hands with their friends and pray that things get better, I can only look on and shake my head. Only action in this world gets results. As has been demonstrated time and again, prayer has no effect whatsoever on the odds, the statistics, the real world outcomes of events. There is no Santa Claus.

Augustine with his mother, Monica

Augustine with his mother, Monica

Tertullian

Tertullian

If I believed, my beliefs would have to take the real world into consideration. My deity would hear no prayers. My deity would be essentially amoral and unconcerned with what we do. My deity would be beyond good and evil. My deity would effectively act (if that word could be considered applicable) as if it didn’t exist at all. But I don’t believe. Nor am I a fool. There is no reason to believe in that which effectively doesn’t exist. Let the Tertullians of the world say, “Prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum est“. Let the Augustines practice their rhetoric. And let them leave me in peace. I have put away childish things, and I have turned away the “innocent” comfort and the tortured apologia.

Sometimes I suffer a wistful feeling, and that’s only natural. Life is unapologetically difficult sometimes, just as it is beautiful at others times without asking for credit.

Sunday, March 01st, 2009 | Author: Moody

“Many persons have no idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.”—Helen Keller

Mission Statement: [The] purpose of the Humanist Symposium is not primarily to criticize religious beliefs or debunk the latest superstition, but to offer and discuss a positive alternative to belief systems based on the supernatural. [From Ebonmuse.]

Welcome, friends, regulars, and first time visitors, to the 33rd Humanist Symposium! We’ve much to discuss, as ever, and only so much time in our busy lives to do so, I know. Yet it is certain that we need to take this time to peruse and pursue the topics at hand. As humanists, we are confronted with a world poised on the edge of an enormous valley whose plummeting depths are shrouded by perpetual mists and obscuring shadow. It is the Valley of Change and Interesting Times. It is also known as the Valley of Uncertainty and Potential. We all know this awesome valley from personal experience, certes, but each of us has her or his own take on it.

Here is a chance to lend an ear to what others have to say, gathered here for the nonce on this windblown overlook on the Kalends of March (a number of us wearing Darwin tee-shirts, I see), as one by one, alone or with friends, we plot our course into the future that awaits us.

The following works can serve, I think, to help us consider the topics we have to deal with, and help us to choose a path down into and through the valley.

In “Anti-atheism and anti-theism“, Faithlessgod would have us consider our attitude toward theists and how that attitude effects the ongoing dialog between believers and non-believers. Are we all supporting double standards? Does the Golden Rule still apply? How’s our footing?

Meanwhile, in “The Renaissance of Atheist Evangelism“, Ebonmuse, of Daylight Atheism, takes on the usual criticism that “atheist evangelism” is something inherently bad for atheists and the atheist cause generally. A healthy attitude is of invaluable assistance on these slopes.

Negotiating the scree with care, in “Why Evangelical Humanism?“, She Who Chatters makes a solid case for humanistic evangelism being a necessary tool for constructing a better world for all.

Ivaluthy Mahendran shares that vision. He has looked upon the hardship of the world and is ready to shout, so that the valley echoes, “I Have a Dream!!!“—it is a dream of getting through the valley.

In “The Brain, Engine of Creativity“, BlackSun expertly defends the fruits of the Enlightenment against the malaise of New-Age unreality as typified by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love. Wishful thinking makes for an unreliable guide in dangerous places.

Down into the valley we make our way, and the paths we choose will ever require us to pay attention and to move with care. The Mystic Atheist believes we must pay attention to the old stories told in the valley by the theists. He shares his ideas in The Word of Science: A Story Still to Tell.

While over at Distiller’s Corner, Burak Bilgin considers “A Paradigm Shift for Self-Actualization“. What do we expect to make of this journey?

I humbly submit to the symposium the powerful speech given by author Haruki Murakami on the occasion of his being awarded the Jerusalem Prize for the Freedom of the Individual in Society. It is called “The Novelist in Wartime“, and it presents an admirable statement all humanists can support. Our duty as humanists is clear; our responsibility is to help, as best we may, those in danger of falling.

Russell Blackford highlights one of the constant dangers we face on our journey—the slippery slope that ends in a social pitfall—in “Geert Wilders should have been allowed into the UK“, posted at Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.

And the Examiner.com: DC Political Atheist Examiner, Paul Fidalgo, says in no uncertain terms that “The sorry excuse of offense” must go! We can’t stand still and argue about the danger of avalanches or we won’t get anywhere.

But—no offense intended—Zach Alexander really thinks we also should “pay attention to the aesthetic message our ads send, not just the literal message”, in “Ugly Atheist Buses“. Think of it as being dressed properly for the long trek; you know a well prepared hiker when you see one, right?

In “Curiosity and the ‘Shut Up, That’s Why’ Argument“, Greta Christina admonishes us to both keep up the discussion with friends and family who may not share our views, and to understand where they might differ from us in their conversational expectations. The message is clear on this journey: communication—and good, healthy, open communication at that—is a must if we are to help each other succeed.

Atheist Revolution wonders aloud about what it will take to make a more accommodating space on campus, in “Reaching Out to Atheist College Students“. How can we make the journey a little easier for those still learning to navigate the many paths of this place and time?

There are a lot of questions about this journey. There are a number of viable paths, and many more dangerous ones, and sometimes it seems that the society we live in is geared against our success. So it seems only fitting to conclude this symposium with a hopeful message, one that can lend us strength as we work on finding our way through the valley.

Tom Rees, of Epiphenom, says that a “New ARIS survey will show that US atheists/agnostics have nearly doubled since 2001″. We are not alone on this journey. This is both a reason to rejoice and a reason to consider our role in helping so many others—people who may now be embarking on an adventure that some of us have been on for some time already. I know we’re up to it.

A few final words. I’d like to thank Adam Lee, (Ebonmuse of Daylight Atheism), for giving me this opportunity. I really appreciate it. I’d also like to thank those who have hosted the Humanist Symposium previously—most recently, A Superfluous Ramble—and those who will be hosting it in the future—such as your next host, Atheist Revolution (on March 22nd). I feel myself to be in the best company with all of you. These symposiums are of benefit to the greater community of the world, however small and intimate they may seem, and to host one is a privilege that should always be celebrated and gratefully acknowledged.

Finally, I’d like to thank you, the readers of these posts. It feels good knowing that there are people all over the world who are interested enough in the humanist perspective to take the time to read what secular humanists have to say. I think the most important thing we need right now is an open dialog that allows for honest questions and answers. That sort of thing begins here… and in the comment sections of blogs everywhere.