religion
De Omnibus Dubitandum
David Hume showed that we never know anything with absolute certainty. We try our best to gather and process all the relevant information when we need to make a decision, but we can never possibly plan for every single contingency, and we can never have access to all the pertinent facts, so we just do the best we can, shrug and leave a little bit to chance. Even people who couldn’t care less about eighteenth-century Scottish philosophers or the intricacies of epistemology intuitively understand this in the course of their everyday lives. We don’t know for certain that we won’t be one of the tens of thousands of people who are involved in a fatal accident this year, but we confidently get behind the wheel every morning anyway. We don’t know for certain that we’re going to live beyond tomorrow, but we make plans for what we’re going to be doing in five years. Provisional knowledge is good enough.
Except when it comes to belief in God, it seems.
A frequent objection to atheism I’ve heard is that there’s something particularly dangerous about claiming to be reasonably certain that there is no immortal soul or personal, loving god or gods and living one’s life in accordance with this. I can only think of two reasons for this.
One would be the general idea that knowledge is a good thing in and of itself, there is something undesirable about living in a benighted state, and that we should always seek to reduce confusion and ignorance. Therefore, if someone thinks atheism is simply incorrect on the merits, it’s natural for them to want to bring it to attention. The problem is, all the good arguments are on the side of disbelief. Nothing we know points to proof of a soul or a god other than wishful thinking, which of course is no proof at all. And as many have pointed out, apologists haven’t really come up with any worthwhile variations of the basic (and flawed) arguments for God’s existence that we all learned from people like Augustine, Anselm and Aquinas, whereas science and logic have continued to draw on human experience and expanding knowledge to keep chipping away at theological reasoning. It’s perfectly fine if you think I’m wrong, but simply asserting it to be so isn’t good enough.
It’s more likely, though, that the objection is rooted in the mentality best expressed as Pascal’s Wager (which has many flaws of its own). That is, having been raised in a largely Christian culture, we’ve absorbed the idea that there is a personal god, and he happens to be a fanatically insecure psychopath who’s just aching for the chance to make a horrible example out of anyone who questions or defies him, however mildly. Openly doubting his existence, of course, is the gravest insult one can offer him. Even those who think they’ve rejected the strictures of traditional religion still seem to harbor this psychological remnant. Better to just pay lip service to the old bastard and avoid unwanted attention.
It’s really stunning when you stop to think about it, how we’ve normalized such an insane point of view, how we’ve become accustomed to such a crippling weight upon our minds. In any other instance, what’s the worst that could happen if one makes a mistake in reasoning? Having to admit being wrong? Feeling a sting to your ego? Why wouldn’t that also hold true if it turned out that we do indeed have an immortal soul, and we end up meeting God after we die? Why wouldn’t an atheist be allowed to say, “Well, what do you know? Boy, do I feel stupid now!” Even tyrants, you would think, would enjoy seeing a former opponent bow and scrape and proclaim their mistake for all to hear. Why would it not be good enough that I did the best I could with the mind I had to make sense of the information I was presented with?
And even if it were true, and our soul lives on after death, and there really is a father-figure type of God waiting to grade us on our performance while alive and punish us for making mistakes — why would you want to believe in such a being? Why would you want to accept being ruled by someone with a personality that would get him imprisoned or institutionalized in human society? Wouldn’t you want to rebel against such a state of affairs?
Motherfucker May I
Baer: After covering the “eight rival religions,” you give atheism a tenuous position within that pantheon by adding a ninth chapter dedicated to the topic. You write that “atheism is a religion of sorts, or can be.” Isn’t this a contradiction in terms?
Prothero: One argument of my coda on the New Atheism is that many atheists are religious against their own intentions. But not all New Atheists are religious. It depends on the person. But atheism as a whole would be less religious if it were less emotional and less evangelistic.
Baer: Proselytizing atheists like Dawkins have carved out a niche within a largely religious public sphere. Would a less emotional, less evangelistic atheism be capable of maintaining even this degree of influence?<
Prothero: I feel quite certain that a less emotional and less evangelistic atheism would garner far more influence. Atheism has a brand problem. Lots of the people who do not believe in God refuse to call themselves atheists. Why? Because they don’t want to be associated with proselytizers.
— KTB
Oh, come on. Atheism as a type of religion? Wow, never heard that one before. Rule of thumb: when you start using false equivalencies that my brother has used on me, it’s time to stop, back up, and rethink some things before you disappear down a rabbit hole.
This is a shame, as I like Prothero’s writing. I’ve been favorably quoting him recently, and I certainly am looking forward to reading this new book. But really, what bullshit. Call me jaded, call me overly suspicious, but I can’t help but suspect that some people would prefer it if atheists spent so much time soft-pedaling their statements, massaging egos and apologizing in advance for any hurt feelings that may result that they never got around to making their actual arguments in favor of atheism.
Just once, I wish one of these concern trolls would actually point out specifically what it is that the “New Atheists” have said that is so gratuitously offensive and off-putting as to hurt their cause. (I mean, it’s only been about six years since Harris’s The End of Faith was published, so comparing recent public opinions of atheism to the largely unfavorable ones that existed previously — you know, when atheists were less emotional and evangelistic — should be easy enough to do.) Unlike a lot of their critics, I actually have read what Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris and Dennett have written, and even Hitchens and Harris, the two more controversial members of the Four Horsemen, have gone out of their way to stress their respect for individual believers and make clear their stance on differentiating people from dogma. In fact, most of the controversy surrounding those two is based in a dishonest attempt to smear their atheism by associating it with other positions they’ve taken that have nothing to do with it. Harris has been hysterically accused around the web of being a fascist eugenicist for his recent attempts to argue that morality can be given a scientific grounding, and Hitchens has been on every liberal’s shit-list for the last decade due to his support for the Iraq war and exhortations to invade Iran (both of which, I would argue, are rooted in his former Trotskyism rather than in any newfound neoconservatism, but that’s neither here nor there).
Once again, it seems pretty obvious that the real problem everyone has with this assertive atheism is the fact that its spokespeople have the effrontery to not act ashamed of themselves in public. But people are going to be offended upon being told, in any tone, that the beliefs they claim as the bedrock of their existence are false and even detrimental. There’s no way around that. And like I said, the motives to make the debate all about our tender feelings rather than the issues themselves should be transparent. You can only make so much of an effort to be conciliatory before you just have to conclude that your opponent is not operating in good faith, at which point, you just gotta say “Fuck ’em”.
Civility, then. I’ve had a variant of this discussion myself, given my status as an openly aspiritualist, atheist blogger (and a foul-mouthed one at that), with teeming multitudes of readers who hang on my every word. Shouldn’t I aim to be more persuasive than abrasive? Don’t I risk closing someone’s mind to my viewpoint by not making a Herculean effort to reassure them that I mean no offense? Wouldn’t I catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and who the fuck wants to catch flies to begin with? What am I aiming for anyway?
Here’s the thing: in debate class in seventh grade, we were taught how to make calm, dispassionate arguments on topics near and dear to our hearts, and how to separate the argument from the person making it. If twelve year-old kids could handle that with a little coaching, I’m going to start from the assumption that we are all adults and can easily do the same. Plus, I simply don’t have the time to preface every potentially offensive statement I make with apologies and pleas for patience and understanding. I’m trusting that you, dear reader, are willing and able to do some of the work yourself.
As for my intentions, well, I don’t really have any other than to speak the truth as I see it, mostly for my own amusement. I go after targets that I have no possible hope of taking down, where I have no expectation of being able to convince anyone to agree with me, and I’m grateful to them for giving me something to test my strength against. My concept of intellectual honesty requires me to go after expressions of self-serving bullshit and bad faith, but I’m always very aware of the difference between official doctrine and the way individual believers and practitioners apply those principles to their lives, and I adjust accordingly. The context matters. I would never be rude in person to someone sharing their honest thoughts and feelings about religion because that’s just needlessly crushing to put someone in a position where they can’t save face.
In the context of a pseudonymous blog, though? Assuming some unfortunate spiritually-inclined person stumbles across my blog and gets a nasty shock, they can easily dismiss me as some asshole on the Internet and go blithely on their way. But maybe, if I’m lucky, I planted some seeds of doubt or nagging suspicion by just speaking plainly and honestly, and they can delve into those on their own time in a way that’s comfortable to them, if they want to. Plus, I’m also aware that some of my own intellectual awakenings have come by way of being rudely shocked out of my dogmatic slumber, to quote Kant, so I honestly don’t feel that being offended is always such a bad thing. Someone being an asshole for the pure hell of it is one thing, but sometimes, feeling offended by something you read is a sign of insecurity or complacency on your end, and investigating that is obviously a good thing.
I aim for some perfect midpoint, to try to identify and criticize a theme that touches on a large number of people without totally encompassing any of them. To whatever extent that’s not the case, that’s just due to my own shortcomings as a writer. I try to generalize enough to allow wiggle room for someone to say, “That’s not me! I’m not like that at all!”, while perhaps carrying away that nagging doubt I mentioned.
Jesus vs. Brian Wilson
I was talking recently with a liberal Christian, when the conversation turned to the Bible. At one point, I said that I didn’t see any value in trying to extract the “true” message of Jesus, given the contradictory verses that are purportedly his own words, not to mention the problem of trying to read the book as a coherent text written for the purpose of providing a historically accurate account of precisely what was done and said. He stuck to the party line, though, insisting that there is a common message of love to be found through the Gospels that takes primacy over any inconsistencies or disturbing passages. Anyway, that’s standard stuff. I then said that I personally didn’t find his words to be all that inspiring in the first place, to which his immediate, incredulous response was, “Not even the Beatitudes?”
In case you hellbound deviants don’t have them memorized, here’s a refresher:
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
I said that I actually preferred the Beach Boys song, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”:
Wouldn’t it be nice if we were olderThen we wouldn’t have to wait so longAnd wouldn’t it be nice to live togetherIn the kind of world where we belongYou know its gonna make it that much betterWhen we can say goodnight and stay togetherWouldn’t it be nice if we could wake upIn the morning when the day is newAnd after having spent the day togetherHold each other close the whole night throughThe happy times together we’ve been spendingI wish that every kiss was neverendingOh, wouldn’t it be nice…Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come trueBaby then there wouldn’t be a single thing we couldn’t doWe could be marriedAnd then we’d be happyWouldn’t it be nice…You know it seems the more we talk about itIt only makes it worse to live without itBut let’s talk about itOh, wouldn’t it be nice…
Same sappy, pie-in-the-sky wishful thinking, but with good music in this case. Did Jesus ever write any songs as brilliant as Brian Wilson? I rest my case.
Other Dogs Bite Their Enemies, I Bite My Friends to Save Them
And please don’t confuse my point of view with cynicism; the real cynics are the ones who tell you everything’s gonna be all right.
— George Carlin
Cynicism often gets a bad rap by being used interchangeably with “jaded”. Personally, I think it would be great if we revived the tradition of literally barking like dogs at bullshit artists and other anti-intellectuals incapable of carrying on conversations in good faith. You’ll never convince me that people with such a wonderful sense of absurd humor are mere apathetic nihilists.
But still, cynicism in its modern connotations is one of the most common charges leveled against people who profess some degree of pessimism about ideas of progress or improvement. For the record, I don’t think it has to be an either/or choice. I still stand by what I said recently, that you can thread a middle path between hope and despair by dismissing “the future” as an abstraction and concentrating on doing what’s needed here and now. I might even say that Edward Abbey was on to something when he described a pessimist as simply an optimist in full possession of the facts.
And “full possession of the facts” is what we should be striving for in the first place if we intend to improve on things. Do-gooders aren’t going to help anyone if they’re too beguiled by the beauty of their visions to notice inconvenient facts, a primary example being: the world does not need our permission to be what it is.
When it comes to hopeful ideas of purpose and meaning in life, people have been openly and publicly using evidence of mindless, pointless suffering against the concept of a personal, loving God and caring universe since the 1755 Lisbon earthquake, at least. Not just the suffering humans endure, but that of animals as well, many of whom only exist to disappear down the gullet of another. We’ve all heard of wonderful examples of intelligent design such as the wasps who paralyze spiders and caterpillars before laying their eggs in them; when the eggs hatch, the still-living victim is slowly devoured from the inside out. Or the type of worm that can only exist by burrowing into an eyeball. Schopenhauer spent a lot of time detailing this sort of thing, so if you need further material to furnish your existential crisis, he’s your one-stop shop.
A friend of mine is one of those who thinks atheists are arrogant for thinking they know enough to draw even provisional conclusions, that we should live in a state of suspended belief just in case some miracle happens to contradict everything we’ve learned from science and history. But the only way forward for someone who is aware of all the mindless suffering in the world, yet still determined to keep some sort of faith in a higher purpose, is through teleology. You have to justify it all as part of some long-term plan, as necessary steps along the way to something better.
…[T]hat in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood they’ve shed; that it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened with men — but though all that may come to pass, I don’t accept it. I won’t accept it. Even if parallel lines do meet and I see it myself, I shall see it and say that they’ve met, but still I won’t accept it. That’s what’s at the root of me, Alyosha; that’s my creed.
..While there is still time, I hasten to protect myself, and so I renounce the higher harmony altogether. It’s not worth the tears of that one tortured child who beat itself on the breast with its little fist and prayed in its stinking outhouse, with its unexpiated tears to ‘dear, kind God’! It’s not worth it, because those tears are unatoned for. They must be atoned for, or there can be no harmony. But how? How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible?
…I don’t want harmony. From love for humanity I don’t want it. I would rather be left with the unavenged suffering. I would rather remain with my unavenged suffering and unsatisfied indignation, even if I were wrong. Besides, too high a price is asked for harmony; it’s beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it. And so I hasten to give back my entrance ticket, and if I am an honest man I am bound to give it back as soon as possible. And that I am doing.
In one sense, I have to smile at the youthful, romantic idealism of Ivan here. There’s no one to protest to, and there’s no way for you to take your ball and go home. Like I said, the world is what it is, regardless of how that makes any of us feel. But his reaction, however futile, is still preferable to me than that of a person who trivializes and depersonalizes all the horrendous suffering in history by reducing it to stepping-stones. I live a comfortable life as a well-fed, sorta-educated, middle-class, white, heterosexual male in the most affluent and powerful society that has ever existed, and I certainly appreciate that twist of good fortune. How many advantages could one person possibly ask for? But it would be positively obscene to me if I were asked to believe that all the nameless, faceless billions of people who lived short, painful and ultimately unimportant lives did so in order that people like me might enjoy this spoiled, ennui-filled existence. It may have happened that way, but it didn’t have to be that way. They were not means to my end, to yours, to any of ours. It seems to me to be, well, awfully jaded and arrogant to think so. In fact, it seems to me that a resolute determination to face the world squarely and see it plainly, without the comforting intermediaries of myth and ego, is actually one of the highest forms of idealism.
Corollary
Isaiah Berlin, The Roots of Romanticism:
…[T]his attitude was relatively new. What people admired was wholeheartedness, sincerity, purity of soul, the ability and readiness to dedicate yourself to your ideal, no matter what it was.
No matter what it was: that is the important thing. Suppose you had a conversation in the sixteenth century with somebody fighting in the great religious wars which tore Europe apart at that period, and suppose you said to a Catholic of that period, engaged in hostilities, `Of course these Protestants believe what is false; of course to believe what they believe is to court perdition; of course they are dangerous to the salvation of human souls, than which there is nothing more important; but they are so sincere, they die so readily for their cause, their integrity is so splendid, one must yield a certain meed of admiration for the moral dignity and sublimity of people who are prepared to do that.’ Such a sentiment would have been unintelligible. Anyone who really knew, supposed themselves to know, the truth, say a Catholic who believed in the truths preached to him by the Church, would have known that persons able to put the whole of themselves into the theory and practice of falsehood were simply dangerous persons, and that the more sincere they were, the more dangerous, the more mad.No Christian knight would have supposed, when he fought against the Muslim, that he was expected to admire the purity and the sincerity with which the paynim believed in their absurd doctrines. No doubt if you were a decent person, and you killed a brave enemy, you were not obliged to spit upon his corpse. You took the line that it was a pity that so much courage (which was a universally admired quality), so much ability, so much devotion should have been expended on a cause so palpably absurd or dangerous. But you would not have said, `It matters little what these people believe, what matters is the state of mind in which they believe it. What matters is that they did not sell out, that they were men of integrity. These are people I can respect. If they had come over to our side simply in order to save themselves, that would have been a very self-seeking, a very prudent, a very contemptible form of action.’
Berlin credits the Romantics with the invention of this mentality, and the point I’m making with regard to the last post is that our modern notion of individuality, the right of people to follow their own conscience in religious/contemplative matters and the obligation of others to respect the integrity of that choice even if they disagree with it, is a direct descendant of it, and a thoroughly modern one. Revisionists who pretend that this mindset has always been a prominent feature of the world’s great religions make me think of archaeologists salting a dig site, though an archaeologist would know full well he was perpetrating a fraud. But through the mysteries of human psychology, the people who claim that all religions basically carry the same positive message have apparently managed to convince themselves that they’ve genuinely uncovered something that was there all along.
The Perennial Foolosophy
What exactly do you do when the Dalai Lama appears on “Nightline”, and you’re not satisfied with his answers?
— George Carlin
The Dalai Lama says that compassion is the common thread that binds the world’s religions together and gives them their inherent identity. Thankfully, I’ve already done the work on this assignment— I wrote this last year, and I’ll point again to a Stephen Prothero column I quoted just a couple weeks ago.
No one argues that different economic systems or political regimes are one and the same. Capitalism and socialism are so self-evidently at odds that their differences hardly bear mentioning. The same goes for democracy and monarchy. Yet scholars continue to claim that religious rivals such as Hinduism and Islam, Judaism and Christianity are, by some miracle of the imagination, both essentially the same and basically good.
This view resounds in the echo chamber of popular culture, not least on the “Oprah Winfrey Show” and in Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestseller, “Eat Pray Love,” where the world’s religions are described as rivers emptying into the ocean of God. Karen Armstrong, author of “A History of God,” has made a career out of emphasizing the commonalities of religion while eliding their differences. Even the Dalai Lama, who should know better, has gotten into the act, claiming that “all major religious traditions carry basically the same message.”
Of course, those who claim that the world’s religions are different paths up the same mountain do not deny the undeniable fact that they differ in some particulars… It is to deny that those differences matter, however. From this perspective, whether God has a body (yes, say Mormons; no, say Muslims) or whether human beings have souls (yes, say Hindus; no, say Buddhists) is of no account because, as Hindu teacher Swami Sivananda writes, “The fundamentals or essentials of all religions are the same. There is difference only in the nonessentials.”
This is a lovely sentiment but it is untrue, disrespectful, and dangerous.
Like I said last year, the decision to subordinate all those doctrinal differences to a general, secular ideal of getting along and making an effort to respect the common humanity of people with whom you disagree about almost all matters of importance is a good one. In case anyone was waiting for my opinion, I’m in favor of it, for the record. But it’s more than a little galling to see people pretend that this was an inherent part of the nature of religious belief all along while carrying on with the usual sniping at secularists, who, of course, are primarily responsible for getting all these god-addled idiots to take a break from centuries of killing heretics within and infidels without (to whatever extent that’s been accomplished).
You’re perfectly free to choose to emphasize the aspects of different religious traditions that appeal to an educated, wealthy, cosmopolitan, modern audience and weave them into some inspirational narrative to make your life seem more meaningful. But your version is no more “true” than that of people who imagine that religion is all about thinking the correct thoughts to get a reward and policing other people’s sexual activity. Make any other argument for it you want — it’s more conducive to happiness, it’s more attractive to a wider number of people, it makes food taste better, it makes babies cuter, and it gets out ground-in stains that normal cleaning agents don’t — but if you’re honest at all, stop trying to pretend that all that ugliness, all that intolerance, and all that death somehow had nothing to do with the texts and prophets that were the inspirations, or that they were simply misinterpretations, the results of flawed humans getting their hands on something too pure and beautiful for them to appreciate and understand (until you thankfully came along to finally explain it all for us). Religions have always reflected the full spectrum of behavior inherent in the humans who invented them, from altruism to savagery.
Feelings…Nothing More Than Feelings
On Wednesday, Nihad Awad, executive director for the Council on American-Islamic Relations, released a statement on “Draw Muhammad Day” that begins, “I will be the first to defend anyone’s right to express their opinion, no matter how offensive it may be to me. Our nation has prospered because Americans value and respect diversity. But freedom of expression does not create an obligation to offend or to show disrespect to the religious beliefs or revered figures of others.”
Note the subtle shift: you’re free to be offensive if you want, grumble mutter blargh, but you’re not obligated to be that way, pointed stare, hint hint. Well, no shit. No one is saying they are obligated to offend other people’s religious beliefs or revered figures. They choose to do so, which is part of the whole freedom of expression thing. What was the problem again?
Ah, that’s right. You’re free to be outspoken on issues that I’m not personally invested in. Well, as Noam Chomsky so memorably put it long ago, Stalin and Hitler were in favor of free speech for ideas they liked. The whole reason for constitutionally protected speech is that almost everyone is tempted to want to carve out an exception when it comes to their sensitivities, and since everyone is grievously offended by something different, it wouldn’t be long before there was nothing safe to publicly talk about, except maybe the weather. No, wait, that might lead to volatile disagreements over climate change. Better scratch that too.
You can do it your own way
If it’s done just how I say— Metallica
But no one is really saying it should be illegal to insult Muhammed, Jesus or Bacchus, they’re just trying their hardest to pressure people into choosing not to do so. I’ve been both bemused and amused at reading so many of the typical liberal responses to Draw Muhammed Day, some of which make me think that they’d secretly be glad to see a fatwa declared against Reason magazine. It’s nothing new; these are the exact same whining complaints about civility and mean ol’ jerks directed at the “New Atheists” (and the only thing new about them is the willingness to not be cowed by public disapproval of atheists who have the gall to not act ashamed of themselves). I particularly appreciate the patronizing efforts of so many liberals to appoint themselves enlightened spokespeople for all the moderate, tolerant Muslims of the world and inform the Prophet-sketchers that they are needlessly infuriating more than a billion people (whereas I suspect a great number of them are just like the tepid believers of any religion: too indifferent and concerned with worldly pursuits to really care one way or the other).
Speaking of obligations, you would think it would be so basic as to need no explication, but people who do not belong to your particular clubhouse are not obligated to demur and show respect to the things you stand for, either. If this isn’t obvious to you, then you’re probably not all that tolerant and moderate to begin with. See, as a somewhat reasonable person whose first instinct is to assume that other people are also somewhat reasonable, and not impulsive savages who are prone to violent outbursts at the slightest provocation, I want to assume that these moderate Muslims we speak of are capable of looking dispassionately at the situation and seeing that drawing stick figures en masse is an appropriately light-hearted, mocking response to fanatics physically attacking people, issuing death threats, and burning down houses, aimed at showing solidarity and a refusal to be intimidated, and ultimately incapable of affecting their faith in the slightest way unless they choose to let it. I emphasize “response” because this is not a case of someone deciding to gratuitously pick some group at random and do something deliberately offensive for the simple fun of being a dick. Contrary to what Mom always told you as she forcibly separated you from the sibling you were fighting with, sometimes it does matter who started it.
Going along to get along is a perfectly fine thing to do in many situations. Of course, in others, it’s more important to speak the truth regardless of the consequences and stand for principles no matter how it inconveniences people, and as Isaiah Berlin taught us, sometimes virtues can end up in conflict with each other. The gulf between them wouldn’t seem so vast, though, if people could keep one other thing in mind: being offended really isn’t such a horrible thing. Honestly. Take a deep breath, relax your death grip on your narcissistic self-importance, and remember that if your beliefs and sensitivities have any depth to them at all, they’re not going to be seriously threatened by someone making rude and/or ignorant remarks about them. Sometimes, in fact, offense can be a good way to be jolted into introspection that you might not have been inclined to pursue otherwise. I read writers every day that I don’t necessarily agree with because I still recognize that they’re capable of provoking me into thought that I wouldn’t find in an echo chamber.
Come Bite the Apple
What the world’s religions share is not so much a finish line as a starting point. And where they begin is with this simple observation: Something is wrong with the world. In the Hopi language, the word “Koyaanisqatsi” tells us that life is out of balance. Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” tells us that there is something rotten not only in the state of Denmark but also in the state of human existence. Hindus say we are living in the “kali yuga,” the most degenerate age in cosmic history. Buddhists say that human existence is pockmarked by suffering. Jewish, Christian, and Islamic stories tell us that this life is not Eden; Zion, heaven, and paradise lie out ahead.So religious folk agree that something has gone awry. They part company, however, when it comes to stating just what has gone wrong, and they diverge even more sharply when they move from diagnosing the human problem to prescribing how to solve it.
The fundamental faith of the metaphysicians is the faith in opposite values. It has not even occurred to the most cautious among them that one might have a doubt right here at the threshold where it was most surely necessary – even if they vowed to themselves, “de omnibus dubitandum”. It might even be possible that what constitutes the value of these good and revered things is precisely that they are insidiously related, tied to, and involved with these wicked, seemingly opposite things – maybe even one with them in essence.
Aperçus
If the gods listened to the prayers of men, all humankind would quickly perish since they constantly pray for many evils to befall one another.
You’re as dumb as all those records you spinAnd you’re as real as the Shroud of Turin
Walter Sobchak: Nothing changes. Fucking Nazis.
Pompous and Circumstantial
Yet the church leaders are right about one thing: there is often a liberal and secular snobbishness toward the church as a whole — and that is unfair.
It may be easy at a New York cocktail party to sniff derisively at a church whose apex is male chauvinist, homophobic and so out of touch that it bars the use of condoms even to curb AIDS. But what about Father Michael Barton, a Catholic priest from Indianapolis? I met Father Michael in the remote village of Nyamlell, 150 miles from any paved road here in southern Sudan. He runs four schools for children who would otherwise go without an education, and his graduates score at the top of statewide examinations.
…It’s because of brave souls like these that I honor the Catholic Church. I understand why many Americans disdain a church whose leaders are linked to cover-ups and antediluvian stances on women, gays and condoms — but the Catholic Church is far larger than the Vatican.
And unless we’re willing to endure beatings alongside Father Michael, unless we’re willing to stand up to warlords with Sister Cathy, we have no right to disparage them or their true church.
Would you like to see the Pope on the end of a rope?
Do you think he’s a fool?— Black Sabbath
Yes, and yes. How’s that for “sniffing derisively”? And I’ve never even been to New York or a cocktail party!
I wish I could work up the indignation to tell Kristof to go fuck himself, but if you look at religious belief with a critical eye for any substantial length of time, you can’t help but become familiar to the point of boredom with this gambit: define the religion by the individual believers you admire; ignoring, if necessary, the people with all the power and decision-making capabilities. Hey, I understand some Nazis were vegetarian animal-lovers, too…
Let’s make it simple. I can respect people who have done some intense introspection and decided that working in poor villages in Africa to marginally improve the lives of their inhabitants is what they really want to do with their lives. I have no problem with people who are moved to action by their perception of suffering and injustice. However. If their main inspiration for doing so is a book of Bronze Age mythology and a belief that a nonexistent god-man commands them to act this way; if they would, in fact, act much differently should they happen to lose their faith, well, then, I don’t respect them that much, gasp! If you need to lie to yourself in order to rise above narcissism, hedonism, fatalism, and whatever other -ism you want to name, then I don’t consider that to be noble. I respect individuals and direct actions, not labels, organizations and ideologies. Compassion and altruism are universal human values. Subordinating them to one particular cult or another, as if metaphysical rationalizations are the source from which spontaneous empathy flows, is completely ass-backwards. Some people see immense suffering and immediately look for a way to relieve it. Others wait to see if the voices in their heads tell them it’s justified to do so. I know which one I would trust.
If anything, I would ask the humanitarian priests and nuns why they aren’t appalled enough by the actions of their leadership to leave the church and follow the dictates of their own consciences. Why would they feel a need to bow to an obviously corrupt hierarchy when it comes to questions of morality? What could you possibly feel you have to learn from them?
Borrowers and Lenders Be
Hinduism, as a faith tradition, stands at this pass a victim of overt intellectual property theft, absence of trademark protections and the facile complicity of generations of Hindu yogis, gurus, swamis and others that offered up a religion’s spiritual wealth at the altar of crass commercialism.
…Not surprisingly, the most popular yoga journals and magazines are also in the act. Once yoga was no longer intertwined with its Hindu roots, it became up for grabs and easy to sell. These journals abundantly refer to yoga as “ancient Indian,” “Eastern” or “Sanskritic,” but seem to assiduously avoid the term “Hindu” out of fear, we can only assume, that ascribing honestly the origins of their passion would spell disaster for what has become a lucrative commercial enterprise.
…Hindus can only sadly shake their heads, as by this measure, soon we will read as to how karma, dharma and reincarnation–the very foundations of Hindu philosophy–are only ancient precepts that early Hindus of some era made their own.
Oh yeah? Well, through the practice of jnana yoga, I came to the realization that notions of karma and reincarnation are nonsense and gibberish, so how ’bout that? And I’ve benefited from the practice of modern, secularized hatha yoga just fine, thank you, without suffering any “deficiencies” from the absence of another nonsensical term, “spirituality”. Seriously, I’m not sure what irritates me more — the way this starts out as an almost identity politics-style whinge about how yoga is a Hindu thing and you outsiders wouldn’t understand, or the way he eventually allows that okay, fine, maybe people from other traditions and backgrounds can sort of get it, but only as long as religion or spirituality is involved somehow. Sorry to break it to you, but physical activity does not have to be combined with magic words and sanctified thoughts to be meaningful.
But leaving the condescension of metaphysicians aside, getting to the real gist of his complaint — when has it ever not been thus? Traditions evolve and adapt or become static and die out. Different aspects appeal to different people in different cultures at different times. Go ahead, insist all you want on the need for everyone to take a moment and acknowledge the Hindu roots of yoga. It won’t change the fact that the vast bulk of a several thousand year-old tradition just doesn’t serve any need for modern Westerners. Once again, I’m just amused at the way people cling to ossified, limiting labels instead of celebrating the continued existence and the dynamic flow of the vibrancy they were originally meant to symbolize.
If You Meet the Buddha on the Road
Since I was just talking about this recently, here are two disparate examples of why I personally see no reason to identify as a Buddhist, even though I have certainly learned much from various Buddhist authors and thinkers (especially from the secular Western variety). Debating different ideas and perspectives is fine, of course; I’m simply not interested in squabbling over precisely what one has to accept or believe in order to qualify for the official label. It strikes me as a completely off-track and self-indulgent argument to have.
He Is Risen!
So, did he see his shadow? Is this wretched, brutal winter finally and truly over?
Atheist, Aspiritualist, And…?
“I think, therefore I am.” Descartes famously tried to find some basis for knowledge that was beyond all doubt, and settled on that as his foundation. Yet, as Buddhist writers among others have pointed out, he still fucked it up by taking for granted the existence of the self, the greatest illusion of all, the one most in need of doubt. Wikipedia puts it slightly more generously, saying, “Initially, Descartes arrives at only a single principle: thought exists. Thought cannot be separated from me, therefore, I exist.” Of course, he should have taken that last step and realized that he himself did not, could not exist in a vacuum, therefore everything else exists too.
The properties of a thing are effects on other “things”:
if one removes other “things”, then a thing has no properties,
i.e., there is no thing without other things,
i.e., there is no “thing-in-itself”.— Nietzsche
I’ve been thinking lately about the inadequacy and pointlessness of atheism.
Now that I have your attention, haha! — no, I’m mostly kidding. I haven’t suddenly become a devotee of Zeus, Ra or Jeebus. I just mean that I’ve come to think that arguing about the existence or lack thereof of God, as fun and stimulating as that can be, misses the real point: the ego, the sense of independent selfhood. It’s kind of common now to hear people quip about how God was created in man’s image rather than the other way around, but they don’t often seem to grasp the true import of that statement.
I’ve often explained my decision to identify as an atheist rather than, say, an agnostic on the grounds that when the majority of people, especially in a majority Christian nation, ask if you believe in God, they are not asking if you believe in a Deist Supreme Architect, a Gnostic Logos, or some other similarly abstract, bloodless rational construction. They are asking if you believe in the personal, loving, bipolar, father-figure god, the one who rewards you and smites your enemies, the one who holds out the promise of reunion in the afterlife with all your loved ones, and since it seems ridiculously obvious that such a being is a projection of human vanity upon the universe, I feel perfectly comfortable saying no, I’m certain nothing like that exists.
The thing is, rather than promptly getting sidetracked in hair-splitting discussions of how such a being could possibly exist and for what reasons and in what circumstances, I think it would be far more relevant to stick to the original point: it’s not about Him, it’s all about you.
Most of us know that repressing thoughts and urges only strengthens them. Likewise, arguing and wrestling with egoistic delusions only reinforces the ego. All of our babbling about God boils down to one question: What’s in it for me? Pretending to see evidence of such an anthropomorphic being reassures you that your own existence is meaningful. You might fear the thought of being judged for your actions and found wanting, yet it’s still more comforting to believe that your thoughts and actions are so tremendously important as to require consideration and judgment at all. And whether there is/could be/might be such a being, it really doesn’t matter, seeing as how there’s no abiding, permanent essence to your existence that will ever be around to find out:
To have become a person means to have emerged contingently from a matrix of genetic, psychological, social and cultural conditions. You are neither reducible to one or all of them, nor separate from them. While a person is more than a DNA code, a psychological profile and a social and cultural background, he or she cannot be understood apart from such factors. You are unique not because you possess an essential metaphysical quality that differs from the essential metaphysical quality of everyone else, but because you have emerged from a unique and unrepeatable set of conditions.
It seems to me it would be a lot easier to make this concept understood to people than to waste time debating the existence of God. Anything you could point to in an attempt to define some irreducible essence of “you”, any quality about yourself, whether physical, mental or emotional, is a compound phenomenon contingent upon others for its existence. “Soul” and “spirit” are nothing more than useful metaphors.
Your body is a product of your parents’ DNA (and that of all your earlier relatives), and its continued existence relies, at the very least, on a regular supply of air, food and water. You probably wouldn’t include “oxygen” in a definition of what it means to be you, but it’s impossible to talk about any human being existing in an environment without it.
The language you speak, which shapes and communicates the sorts of thoughts you have, is a cultural work-in-progress, stretching back over thousands of years at least, with contributions from countless people. The ideas you have, the beliefs you hold, the mental qualities that you consider to form such an important aspect of who you are, were pieced together over time and expressed by many different people, adapted to many different situations. You may find a clever way to apply certain ideas, beliefs or insights to your particular experience, but the basic themes were laid down long ago.
Your thoughts and feelings emerge from the interplay between your brain and sensory organs. They are not going to float around in the atmosphere or out in space after your death, waiting for a new host organism to attach themselves to. Any God that mattered would have to make himself known in the here and now, because your death will be the end of your opportunity to know anything about him, as your component atoms dissolve back into the endless flow of life itself from which they arose.
One who denies the permanent essence of self — what should be the word for that?
Debtor’s Prison
‘He forgets nothing but he forgives everything’ – in that case, he will be doubly hated, for he makes doubly ashamed – with his memory and his magnanimity.
– Nietzsche
From Age of Propaganda, by Anthony Pratkanis and Elliot Aronson:
Forgiveness of guilt and compliance were recently investigated in an experiment conducted by Brad Kelln and John Ellard. In their research, college students were led to believe that they had mishandled some scientific equipment and thereby ruined the experimenter’s study…But here is the interesting twist. One group of students was forgiven their supposed misdeed. They were told by the experimenter: “Don’t worry about it. That’s OK.”
What would you do in such a situation? Often the act of forgiveness is seen as “wiping the slate clean” – the transgressor is absolved of guilt and the person offering forgiveness is perceived as a friend. However, that is not what Kelln and Ellard found. In fact, they found that just the opposite occurred. The offer of forgiveness served as a double whammy; first they felt guilty about damaging the equipment and then they were offered no means of making it up to the researcher. The only way to make restitution and to show that they were “good” people was to comply with the experimenter’s request to do more work. And that they did, offering to do almost twice the work as the other students in the research. But all of these guilty feelings had a cost. When the students were forgiven their transgressions, they came to dislike the experimenter – the person who had absolved them of their crime. Apparently, people do not like people to whom they feel beholden.
This also calls to mind Jonathan Sacks’ comment about how “nobody will ever forgive the Jews for the Holocaust.”
If it is a deeply ingrained part of human nature to resent people to whom you owe something, I think it’s interesting to contemplate what this means with regards to Christianity and its overweening emphasis on the need to be forgiven for your transgressions by someone who’s perfect. In fact, I wonder if Jesus is who Nietzsche had in mind with that aphorism.