A post on Facebook today made me think. It read:
For me, it's not just one simple fact. I am an atheist because of many complicated reasons. It took 40+ years of observation and inquiry to get me to the point that I was willing to take on the burden of the label "atheist." But here are some of the results of my struggle.
Where you see a medical miracle, I see the application of doctors' accumulated knowledge, skills and training, advances in medical technologies, and drugs that cost millions of dollars and years of meticulous clinical trials to develop. The woman in the next hospital room might not have been so fortunate. But still, I celebrate that cure with you, as it permits you to enjoy another day with your loved one.
Where you see God's mercy in having the one house in a community spared the devastation of a tornado, I see randomness and a lot of neighbors--probably just as undeserving of this lash of nature's power--who could use some help. But still, I am relieved for you.
When you find peace, tranquility, joy and meaning in holy texts, rites, prayer and the community of your faith, your happiness brings me happiness. When it moves you to help others, YAY. I might roll up my sleeves and give you a hand.
Where you see a chosen people, a nation blessed, personal wealth and privilege ordained by a higher power; when you interpret every impulse and desire that pops into your head as treemail from the voice of God, and every accomplishment as a divine pat on the back; when you act with the conviction that your faith will be your salvation "in the next life," no matter what you do in this one; when you expend energy to recruit others to your religion and denounce those who reject it; when myths once used to make sense of the natural world have been shown false, yet you persist in advancing them; where "divinely inspired" texts inspire you to harm others . . .
I sense a threat to our future.
NOT believing in a supernatural being gives me peace and tranquility. The internet gives me some semblance of a community of like-minded people, but I'd like to follow Thomas Paine's ideal: "My country is the world, and my religion is to do good." The path I am following brings me joy and meaning as long as I put some thought into my footsteps. I'll get off my high horse now and resume on foot.
I am an atheist. You won't make sense to me if you tell me that faith doesn't require proof, but I know that that works both ways. Maybe we'll find another reason to listen to each other. Let's just move on.
Show of hands: who likes sex?
Now, ladies, keep your hands where they are; fellas, put your hands down and look around. Look at that! We like it too.
Alright, ladies: keep your hands up if you also think that having sex is bad (wrong, sinful, whatever) unless the sex is with your husband and you are willing to become pregnant. Oh, look; there ARE some of you. Yes, I think I recognize you from Brother John's class; I remember his telling us that the only way a birth control pill could work is if the girl held it between her knees. Aspirin works too, I understand--plus, it's cheaper and available OTC.
OK, then: keep your hands up if you also believe that having a vagina exempts you from various things--call them rights, liberties, privileges, freedoms, whatever.
Like controlling whether you become pregnant.
Like obtaining FDA-approved treatment for certain debilitating illnesses.
Like access to low-cost health care, if you're poor.
Like having a voice in laws that primarily impact women.
Like NOT having a foreign body inserted in your vagina against your will. Some call it rape; others, a condition for getting a legal abortion in some states. Good thing it's not a condition for free speech, too.
Hey, look, way there in the back: I see you with your hand still proudly raised, Sister! Wow, you really mean it, too--you've got that upright posture, stern look, thin lips, chin thrust right out. Well, I've got some good news and some bad news for you.
The good news is that no matter who wins the GOP nomination in August, you will have a candidate on the ballot who represents you! The bad news is that he doesn't stand a chance of winning against Barack Obama in November.
While you watch this confounding era in our nation's history play itself out, Sister, why don't you divert yourself with a good book. Let me recommend The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood.
The rest of us need to speak up about these issues. Men, that includes you, too. The "war on religion" is a Trojan horse, with women's health at stake.
Recently, several teenagers (not my own) have expressed to me some interest in discussing or learning more about atheism (mine act as though they've heard more than enough).
When do people come of age, or reach an age of reason?
Many faiths seem to tie religious maturity to sexual maturity, as their rites of passage coincide with the onset of puberty. Jewish girls bat mitzvah at age 12, while Jewish boys bar mitzvah at 13; Mormon boys can achieve priesthood at age 12; and Catholic children are confirmed as early as the sixth grade (age 11 or 12). A quick Google search reveals that Islamic kids undergo a change in religious responsibilities once they show physical signs of puberty, though no ritual is performed.
It is my sense that many people at that age are still well under the influence of indoctrination and the gravitational pull of parental and social approval, while others are merely rebelling against it. They might not have learned much about cultures and belief systems different from those around them. My own mom claims that I've always been an iconoclast, but I never voiced an objection to doing those things that were expected of me in the Catholic Church.
On the other hand, by that age most kids are in the process of gaining independence of thought and forging their own identities, values, and judgments--ideally, a process that lasts a lifetime. Maybe this is an appropriate age to present an alternative to theism, particularly to someone who has shown a curiosity about it.
I have no interest in "converting" anyone, but I am happy to discuss and debate what I believe. I also hope that by increasing others' knowledge, I could increase tolerance (ooh--there's that bad word again!) and understanding for non-believers such as myself.
Back to my initial point: would it be OK for me to talk to someone else's teenager about atheism? Should I seek permission from a parent? If you think so, do you hold the same opinion for more mainstream belief systems? Do you have a problem with people handing out copies of the new testament as kids leave their elementary schools?
I truly would like to hear your opinions, so I'm posting this jointly on my blog and as a note on Facebook, where it is easier to comment. Please weigh in.
I attended the Texas Freethought Convention over the weekend. It would be impossible to summarize the experience in one (readable) post, so I won't even try. I loved it so much, yet it has left me conflicted in a number of respects.
Perhaps that is a sign of growth--or evidence of mutation.
The first conflict is that I have the first stirrings of a compulsion to become more active as an atheist. Such a prospect makes sense on the one hand, but it also makes me uncomfortable. Unfortunately, many people distrust atheists--probably not you, Reader, but after viewing online comment boards following local stories about Giles County schools' posting of the ten commandments and new regulations designed to shut down Planned Parenthood clinics, I was pretty surprised at the level of anger and hatred toward atheists here in southwest Virginia. In my mind, I responded: "You don't even know me. I have contributed, and continue to contribute, a lot to this community--why would you want me to move away?"--because that was pretty much the stock advice for atheists.
I am a timid person. Before the conference, I liked the idea of being just a normal, everyday person, involved in a variety of interests and activities, who just happens to be an atheist. There are so many of us, you know--or really, you might not know that, because how would you? And I also write this blog, partly for catharsis, partly for therapy, but also in an effort to increase understanding for at least one atheist and in the hopes of dispelling at least a little xenophobia.
Anyway, after repeated exhortations at the conference for us to GET INVOLVED, I'm wondering if that is sufficient.
The second one is that I've become more anxious about the effects of sharing my thoughts, feelings and information I'm learning with others around me, who for the most part are religious to one degree or another. My husband grew mildly defensive when I shared with him the quip, available on t-shirts and elsewhere, "Science flies you to the moon; religion flies you into buildings." We all hate terrorism, right? He felt it came across as too superior.
He also took umbrage at this video of Richard Dawkins in announcing Christopher Hitchens. I thought it was brilliant (to be read with a British accent, of course); he took umbrage.
Here's a picture of me with Mr. Dawkins--thanks again to Gary from the Skeptic Wire Podcast:
I tried to explain to my husband that the focus of the weekend was on theocrats who wish to infuse our secular government with fundamentalist Christianity--at the expense of women's health, civil rights for the LGBT community, scientific advancement, teen pregnancy prevention, and liberty to practice any religion other than fundamentalist Christianity--as well as biblical literalists who wish to deny the fact of evolution and attempt to disrupt our kids' science educations based on a literal reading of the creation myth. Everyone in the audience (I think) was united in opposition to those forces; I didn't think the barbs in the speech were aimed at people like my husband, good people who are religious.
Well, upon another listen, and another reading of the text, I get his point; it is rather offensive to any theist. Yet I still find it brilliant.
This is what's known in atheist circles as a mixed marriage. One of the presenters at our conference was Dale McGowan, executive director of a humanist charitable and educational foundation called Foundation Beyond Belief, and author of The Meming of Life, a blog centered on secular parenting. This page should provide a good starting point for me to consider as I try to work out this issue (and wait for the publication of Mr. McGowan's upcoming book on mixed marriages).
So, now I've got some disruptions in how I interact with other organisms in this complex environment. Mutations, if you please. Will selection, natural or otherwise, prove them to be beneficial?
To quote the Magic 8-Ball, "Cannot predict now."
You remember where you were on September 11. Do you remember who you were on September 12?
Amidst the grief, the anger, the helplessness; amidst the horror, disgust and fury; amidst the hatred toward the men and then-shadowy force that were responsible for this incomprehensible crime, something surprising emerged.
Party affiliation, nationalism, tribalism, and barriers of almost every kind seemed unimportant, petty, trivial. We regarded each other in a spirit of compassion and concern for our shared well-being. As condolences were sent out from across the country and around the world, as we reached out to family, friends, neighbors and strangers dealing with pain, we became a better people. We set our focus on what unites us, and resolved to overcome the divisions.
Where did that go?
As you encounter the numerous imperatives to "Never forget," you probably think first of that day: the victims, the selfless first responders, the heroes on Flight 93. Then you might remember the days since: the grieving loved ones left behind, those military and police forces who put their lives on the line daily to protect us, the firemen and first responders willing to risk their own safety in order to restore ours.
I hope we can take it one step further, with a focus on the future. As we pray, meditate or reflect, let us all remember who we became on September 12, and aspire to revive that.
Mmm. Bad words. I get off on them--well, some of them.
Words like tolerance. Reason. Choice. Heliocentric. Evolution. And the subject of today's discourse, secular.
Bear with me, because I have a bone to pick first. While some words can get me all tingly, I don't like being played.
A certain element in our society has mastered the art of warping public opinion through calculated public relations campaigns. When I worked in PR, I picked up a book called Words That Work: It's Not What You Say, It's What People Hear by Frank Luntz, thinking it would add an arrow or two to my professional quiver. It mostly just left me feeling slimed.
This is the guy responsible for changing "estate tax" to "death tax"; "oil drilling" to "energy exploration"; "global warming" to "climate change" (though he has since come to believe that humans have contributed to glo--excuse me, climate change); "healthcare reform" to "government takeover"; and "consumer financial protection"--as in, let's guard against a repeat of the the subprime mortgage meltdown and resulting financial disaster--to "excessive bureaucracy." Here you can find more on his memo to Republican lawmakers to ensure public opposition to financial reform legislation, and who is paying for his efforts.
Back to my point: somewhere along the line, "secular" has become a bad word in some circles. We should revere the canon that fueled so many cannons in the revolutionary war: government and religion should not be intertwined. This was one of the linchpins of the enlightenment, and an axiom of the new United States' government.
Our constitution specifically, and after great debate, laid down the framework for a secular system of governance. It includes no mention of god or provenance; rather, it comes from "We the People." The bill of rights begins with two clauses ensuring religious neutrality, and bans any religious test for holding public office.
The Treaty of Tripoli, signed during George Washington's presidency and ratified under John Adams's, includes this assurance: "the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion." The Baptist Joint Committee's Executive Director has a level-headed post about secularism's role in our political system in this post.
Did you learn about this in high school? Probably not, and an exceptional book by James Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, can explain why: our American history textbooks suck. They are designed to advance a bland, falsely glowing, overly simplistic narrative and, in an effort to gain adoption from state school boards, avoid any whiff of controversial stuff.
This insightful essay from the author of Freethinkers and The Age of American Unreason explores the deficiencies in our textbooks and basic education, and argues that freethought and secularism should be integrated at every level of schooling.
Who is behind this campaign to sully secularism? I have no idea. But this blog post chronicles recent examples of defilement, and they are all coming from the religious right.
Talk dirty to me. I don't want trumped-up fairy tales about intelligent designers, a 10,000-year-old Earth, Christian nations and the end times. I want facts. Maybe I can't handle the truth, but I'd rather try: I want to hear about the gritty, disruptive, mistrusted, imperfect, dissident and bold ideas that have fueled true human progress throughout the millennia.
Oh! The rapture.
Something really strange happened in southwest Virginia last week.
A student group called Freethinkers at Virginia Tech was chatting with folks at a table on the Virginia Tech drillfield to promote "Ask an Atheist Day," which I'd never heard of before reading about this. I'm telling you, we're a pretty decentralized bunch.
Anyway, a kid stood near the table for about an hour, then borrowed a pen from the Freethinkers, drew a cross inside a circle on the back of his own hand, and according to this account, "asked students at the table to stab him in the cross with the pen to 'prove to us God existed.' The students declined." Undaunted, the guy stabbed his own hand with another pen, then assaulted a police officer who responded to the scene and, later, two other officers, as well as breaking out a police car window.
I'm pleased this kid will be getting some needed mental health treatment and that no one was seriously injured. What I really like most, personally, is the reaction of one of the Freethinkers when the kid initially asked her to give him the stigmata. The article provides this account: "'We don’t believe in assaulting people,' [she] said. 'We’re very against assaulting people.'” I agree with that position statement 100%.
The article linked above is from CollegiateTimes.com, which is run by students. Notably, none of the other local media outlets covering the story mentioned the religious angle to it. That's probably a good thing, because in addition to being decentralized and against assaulting people, I think atheists would prefer fewer stories about religion-based divisiveness.
However, I wonder if the story were a little different--say, it was a religious group behind the table and someone wishing to prove that god does NOT exist by stabbing his own hand--whether the media would have shown the same restraint.
I'm skeptical.
