How’s That?

“Some believers accuse skeptics of having nothing left but a dull, cold, scientific world. I am left with only art, music, literature, theatre, the magnificence of nature, mathematics, the human spirit, sex, the cosmos, friendship, history, science, imagination, dreams, oceans, mountains, love, and the wonder of birth. That’ll do for me.” ― Lynne Kelly

It seems that for some, if not most, being a thinking conscious creature is not enough. I have no idea what anyone thinks, let alone most. I try to accept what others say they think at face value, but even that is often filtered information, which is probably just as well. I don’t want to have this discussion with any believers (an event also shunned by Kelly), but I do want to highlight my personal experience because it was something I did not expect.

In the Lynne Kelly quote, reality is depicted as cold and dull by the believer or god-worshiper point of view. My experience was the reverse. One day everything was possible because god did it. Eh! Yay god and all that, but I also felt like saying, So what? If god is so omni-amazing-everything, what’s the big deal? Surely a god can do better than this. Right?

After I’d cleared all the god stuff from my world view and how I envisioned or saw the universe, everything became wonderous and amazing, just the opposite of what Oprah Winfrey thinks about how atheists must see the world or universe. She doesn’t know, but sadly, she thinks she does. Yes. I was more in awe of magic without gods (or woo-woo), than I ever was as either a believer or seeker.

I appreciate the fact of life, existence, and my personal reality more than ever before. After standing up as atheist (which simply means god isn’t, in my case), I discovered how amazing everything is, even if it means a universe that is on its own and random. I am pleased to be me, unbeholden to any spirit, god, guardian angel, patron saint, or talk show host.

But to make a couple of points here, I have never in my many years had anyone tell me how embracing their atheism made them sad. Indeed, some miss church socialization and fellowship stuff. I get that. I never missed it, but I understand how others might feel that loss. My experience was probably due to my personal circumstances.

Second, while I accept that everyone has a dark side, most people seem wonderful to me. When I encounter some jerk on earth, I need to remember the nine or more good people I also met.

So, with a nod to Lynne Kelly: me, too. I’m not in the business of contributing to deconversions, but I would if I could. That is because my experience was better. What I can do is share my personal experience, strength, and hope through an awareness not given through any religion.

Like Dr. Phil is wont to ask, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” It feels just mighty fine.

Bill

Poetry: To Be Chosen

To be chosen, preferred, favored
from among the many typed or penned
by Him,
to be selected as a creation
of Creations,
to know this favoritism
is of His own doing
brings light with pleasure.

Gratification being a true piece
of self,
of Him,
of art.

Is there to be joy
in words
or pity for the many
not so selected?

How does the poem know the poet?

He who worked weeks
to trickle a passive single
or wildly, emotionally
swinging for the fence
and finding a home run
from the glory of gut—
if it is sin, prideful sin.

Essay: Thank Godless Goodness

My wife says grateful people are happy, and I want to be happy. Don’t we all? I like to think I am peachy-keen-ecstatic, perhaps with an occasional snarkastic twist. It is generally a wonderful world for me, but at times not so much. In many ways, I also think I’m fortunate to exist at all and the timing seems good.

This opinion is based mostly on my thoughts, but also on an essay by Daniel C. Dennett titled “Thank Goodness.” It’s from an anthology I’m reading, Philosophers Without Gods: Meditations on Atheism and the Secular Life, by Louise M. Anthony (author and editor). Here’s a quote separately attributed to Dennett about happiness: “The secret of happiness is: Find something more important than you are and dedicate your life to it.”

Now, given this reciprocal relationship between happiness and gratitude, isn’t gratitude (called by some the least felt of all human emotions) usually toward someone? When folks say we should be grateful, I agree. But to whom? Thank you, god, for all this that and the other good things, but not for any of the bad stuff? (we need a font for sarcasm) Thank you, science and scientists, doctors, researchers, inventors of medical equipment and pharmaceuticals?

Thank goodness is supposedly a euphemistic idiom for saying thank god without saying god, for some reason. Kind of like saying dad gum it for god damn it! Yesterday, that HGTV show guy in Mississippi said dad gum. (Preacher’s kid) Did anyone complain?

Is there more to this? Can saying thank goodness be useful to folks, even those who don’t believe a god exists; or that some god, spirit, or invisible force of nature did not intentionally cause the good luck?

And if there is a god, does he, she, or it give a crap if you’re grateful or not? I’ve mentioned before about my sister praying for a job and promising to go to Mass every Sunday if she got it. Can you imagine any god reaching out to shake hands to seal the deal? Nice of her to promise to keep her Catholic duty and avoid being sent to hell, but you had to know Noreen (and many others) to navigate such hazy reasoning.

If you are a believer, you may believe that in your superior wonderfulness you can repay god’s good graces in some way. Think about that. Talk about the man who has everything! (Dennett used that cliché in his essay, too.) Noreen worked at that job until she was 80 (good grief!). What if she had stopped going to church? Would she have lost the job? If I had told her that such logic is a basis of the protestant health and wealth movement, I’d a been given a look followed by some manner of listen, baby brother, condescending big sis-splaining. I got lots of that.

But Dennett claims saying thank goodness is not only good for the skeptical crowd, it’s okay for everyone. I agree. It makes sense. Goodness is just that, with or without the god factor. People, places, and things that are good foster more goodness. Intentions and actions that make the world a better place today and, in the future, comprise goodness. We can be grateful for goodness. We can repay goodness with more goodness.

Thank goodness for music, for art, for love, for the good side of human nature. Thank goodness for clean drinking water, medical science adding healthy, good quality years; for schools and teachers. We can be grateful for trees and plant more. We can find ways to help others. Or, I suppose you can say thank God. It’s up to you, but goodness is real, and we can repay it backward, forward, or right here and now. Can you add to my thank goodness list?

Have a goodness-filled weekend, and enjoy every day, if possible.

Bill

Essay: The Sin of Simony

I had forgotten about this until I read it as yesterday’s word of the day. Basically, it is profiting from ecclesiastical things by selling or buying them. The Catholic Church had problems with it back in the 800-900 CE time, and still does, in my opinion and the opinion of many Lutherans or other protestants. The selling of indulgences comes to mind. It is no stretch for me to see the whole tithing thing as sort of simony-short. I see all religion as a cloak for power, money, control, and greed. The rotten roots of an evil institution.

Even going back to my childhood, I could always see the immorality of preachers, religions (especially protestant ones), and others hawking salvation for cash. I felt I had backing with the story about Jesus going ballistic with the money changers at the Temple. TV charlatans would not want to take that biblical passage too literally.

Today, the mix of money openly solicited by religious entities, the millions (or billions) of dollars showered on TV preachers (you know who I’m talking about) point to the sin of simony and the foolishness of those who donate (looking for tax relief) trying to buy the love of god.

When I was growing up, we had “poor boxes” at the back of the church into which we would put coins, ostensibly used by god to help the poor through the Church, if not funneled directly to the starving children in Africa, still starving some 60 years later.

A few poor folks eventually expedited the distribution process by robbing the poor boxes (maybe with an eye to a future career in TV evangelism), thus resulting in removal of the donation boxes from the sacristy.

I wonder if they have been replaced yet by credit card readers for donations and the payment for lighting a candle for the dearly departed. I can do that at the checkout stand at my local grocery store. I do, but not for the promise of soul salvation. It’s so much easier than putting out cans or boxes of expired, over-salted, veggies for the food bank to be collected by the post office.

Simony is a sin committed by many Christians without a thought for the obvious hypocrisy. But if you’ll send me 10% of your annual net, I will say a prayer for you, thus guaranteeing you eternal salvation with only minimal time for purgatorial purification. I have evidence to prove that god listens more closely to the prayers of atheists then he does of rambling (doomed to hell) preachers and money collectors promising cures or eternal heaven.

Bill

Aaron Rodgers was on Danica Patrick’s podcast…

So what? Right?

Given what I know about Aaron Rodgers, the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers NFL team, I like him. I enjoy football. I appreciate some of the personalities and the entertainment value of the game, particularly now as the 2019-2020 season ends with the traditional championship game. Rodgers and the Pack lost the NFC championship to the San Francisco 49ers, but they ended the season as one of the league’s top four teams.

Danica Patrick is Rodger’s girlfriend and has a podcast. So, Aaron and Danica, who is a professional race car driver, decided to do a podcast where she interviews him. Of the hour and three quarters interview, they spend about 12 minutes talking about Aaron’s religious and spiritual views. When one is famous, as both are, one becomes a target for lazy media employees looking for fodder; c’est la vie.

For some reason, People magazine reporter Steve Helling, and later Fox News’ Melissa Roberto, published virtually the same article about the episode Patrick and Rodgers did on Danica’s Pretty Intense (that’s the title of the podcast) show on 26 December of last year.

Helling, later repeated by Roberto, reported that an unidentified Rodger’s family insider said the interview upset members of Aaron Rodger’s family. They reported that Rodger’s comments “about his religious upbringing” offended his family who were dismayed. “The source” told the magazine that “His (Aaron’s) comments were very hurtful to his family” but that they “Still love Aaron very much.” That, despite years of familial estrangement.

I listened to the entire podcast once and the portion in question several times. You can listen by clicking here – relevant comments are from about the 17-minute point to about 30.

Not one family member was mentioned anywhere in the interview. Not one disparaging remark is made about anyone else by either Patrick or Rodgers. His family issues, which are none of my business, have been reported in the past and Danica has pledged to help promote healing and reconciliation, if she can.

The People article included some quotes that seemed accurate. Here is what Aaron Rogers said of his personal spirituality and religious opinion.

Rodgers told Patrick that he “had gone down a path to a different type of spirituality” that is more meaningful to him.
Rogers said, “I don’t know how you can believe in a God who wants to condemn most of the planet to a fiery hell.” Maybe he should have said worship instead of “believe in.” I’ve had a practicing Catholic priest tell me the same thing.
He also said, “What type of loving, sensitive, omnipresent, omnipotent being wants to condemn his beautiful creation to a fiery hell at the end of all this?”
And, “Religion can be a crutch, it can be something that people have to make themselves feel better.” Of that he said, “I don’t have a problem with it,” referring to the religious views of others.
Rodgers said that he enjoys “learning about other religions.” Horrifying, right?

If anyone in Rodger’s family got their panties in a wad over any of that, or the rest of the podcast, they need to grow up and loose the chip on their shoulder.

I have my doubts about the anonymous source’s credibility. I can see how, in some cases, and in some religions, some people could find room to disagree with Rodgers. But to be “dismayed” or to say such comments are “very hurtful” is at least overboard. Maybe Danica has her Rodgers family reconciliation challenge cut out for her. This interview was not the first time Aaron’s spirituality or family dysfunction has been talked about.

Lastly, Rodgers referred to the religion of his childhood as “antiquated.” Again, that’s not an insult (give me that old time religion). At no time did Aaron identify as atheist, agnostic, or skeptic (but Danica used that last term during questions, he did not). To me, Aaron Rodgers seems to be a searcher on the right path, perhaps with a Humanist compass.

The issue here is that two people who work in the news business (I am not usually anti media) took an opportunity to swipe at a guy for saying what he thinks about a personal topic, statements with which many believers agree, on his girlfriend’s podcast.

While I agree that we are all responsible for what we say and do, People magazine and Fox published a misleading report citing a nameless source that impinges upon the very constitutional freedoms those corporate entities and their employees seem to be hypocritically misrepresenting. Shame on them.

Bill

Essay: My New Religion

I no longer have a religion, but if I did it would be Epicureanism. Heathenistic Hedonism would be a more accurate descriptive title and it sounds cool, but it might be considered a joke or some sort of oxymoronic widdlewaddle (is that a word?). “What religion are you?” “Oh, I’m a Heychie.” But some of the UUies thought of it first.

Omar Khayyam was a Muslim (so that’s a no), but given the right circumstances, perhaps I could be a philosophical Omarist. There is that sweet A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, and Thou message that so many folks like. Who does not know that line from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam? The man’s poems are all about the here and now. According to his writing, he liked women, wine, and good food. Omar’s poems are even in Hitch’s atheist anthology, The Portable Atheist. I can hear The Byrds singing Pete Seeger’s Turn, Turn, Turn.

I dig the epicurean idea that there’s a time for all things; and the ‘eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we…’ conflation seems honest enough. It’s very Epicureanesque, if you ask me. Life can be a bitch, and once you’re mort, you’re dead. So, do it now.

After entering the world of retirement, I classified myself as a leisure aficionado and pleasure seeker. Well, don’t we all pursue things that give us happiness and pleasure? Apparently, some people interpret pleasure seeking as always immoral. Many of them believe (thanks to religion) that only misery and suffering bring eternal happiness (speaking of oxymorons). Right? Admittedly, leisure and things that please us get some of us into a lot of trouble. But, there’s always pizza, beer, and rock ‘n roll music.

I am Epicurean. It’s a philosophy or way of looking at life, perhaps a bit of a world view, but it’s not a religion. There is the health and wealth wing of Christianity, but that nonsense is a whole other series of blog posts.

While the origin of Epicurean thought has it as admitting that the gods exist in a material way, it also claims that the gods don’t care about humans and we should reciprocate (as in the definition of deist). So, fuck them. It’s also not exclusively about food and drink, as modernists might define it, although those things are indeed on our pleasure lists.

Epicureans are supposed to be disciples or students of the Greek philosopher Epicurus. In the more modern sense, we are people devoted to sensual enjoyment, to living the best life we can, while we can. Perhaps the exact opposite of religious orders such as Trappist monks or Trappistine nuns, or Capuchin Franciscan friars or nuns.

Synonyms for epicureans include hedonist, sensualist, pleasure-seeker, sybarite, voluptuary, bon vivant, and bon viveur. Related words are epicure, gourmet, gastronome, connoisseur, and gourmand (see the link with chow?). I like the idea of me being a generous, life-loving epicurean (back to Omar’s quote).

Of course, there are problems with virtually any excess. Health factors such as weight gain, allergies, addictions, and waste leading to environmental damage can be consequential. I read this morning that one can even exercise too much. But those problems are about excess, not pleasure or the relief of pain. Epicureans are not opposed to common sense and we applaud evidence-based solutions to the problems of life. Yay, science. Yay, research. Yay, logic and empirical evidence. Boo, religion and other woo-woo.

I’m in good company with my pleasure seeker philosophy. Other adherents to the teachings of Epicurus included the poet Horace, whose famous statement Carpe Diem (“Seize the Day”) illustrates the philosophy quite well, in my opinion.

So, the next time someone asks you if you believe in a god (and you don’t), simply respond with, “I’m a practical Epicurean. Some of us have claimed the gods are all real. We believe in life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, the relief of pain, and enjoyment of this life, as we know it.”

Bill

Exactly what is a Christian and who says so?

Spencer and I were walking to the car when he asked, “Are you a Christian?”

I was in my mid-twenties, been baptized, spent nine years in religious school, was married in a church by an ordained minister five years prior, was a father, and I occasionally went to church. I even spoke from the pulpit at some services because garnering community support was part of my job. I didn’t understand that Spencer’s question was a set-up.

When I said yes, his next question was, “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?” To me this gibberish was an automatic of course, but I knew what was at the heart of his question. My Catholic response got the comment, “then you are not a Christian.”

I was, poor me, not a true Scotsman after all. What I believed and did was of no matter. It was that I needed to somehow surrender to the rules of the Southern Baptist Convention at the time.

Another time I was meeting with a childhood friend (for a time, my best) and religion came up. We’d not seen each other in about thirty years. We both grew up Catholic and attended the same religious school. His comment was, “I am a born-again Christian.” That means (is code for) he no longer considered himself Catholic. That is apostasy and heresy. Jimmy declared himself a fucking Protestant. By rule, he’d be automatically excommunicated.

Within a year or so, Jimmy died. His body was shipped home to his Catholic family. They arranged for a Catholic Funeral Mass and burial in a Catholic cemetery (consecrated ground where only Catholics still in the good graces of the Church may be interred). I don’t know if anyone else knew what he had told me. Surely his wife did. But there is saying, once Catholic, always Catholic. And much to the chagrin (or ignorance) of holier than thou folks like Spencer, Catholics are Christians. Likewise, the hundreds of other denominations, sects, and independent or nondenominational churches, that claim to be Christians. They are.

I attended Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) for a short time. In one of the men-only classroom sessions the leader of the group said, “I don’t even know anyone who is not Christian.” BSF also has women only sessions. I bet he was more flexible than Spencer.

So, barring the religion’s numerous gatekeepers who may declare anyone unfit to be Christian due to some denominational loophole, technicality, or love/hate for others, it seems that anyone who claims to be, is a Christian.

Jews for Jesus is the title of a group claiming to be Jewish. The real Jews say the group is Christian, not Jewish. If you claim Jesus was the Jewish Messiah (Messianic Jew), according to Jewish authorities, you’re not a Jew, but a Christian. The oddity here is that historically, the original Christians were members of a Jewish cult since there was no independent Christian religion at the time.

I know folks who claim to be Buddhist, but apparently are new age folks who like the ideas expressed, or allegedly postulated by Siddhartha, who was (ostensibly) Buddha. Similarly, I’ve met folks who claim to be Pagan (not atheist). Others claim to be Wiccan and some even claim to be witches. Even without latching onto a denomination, I suppose one could claim a different religion each day of the week and qualify without having to meet any standard or pay any fee.

Some religions may have hoops to jump through, such as baptism or a profession of faith, but most do not. You are what you claim. If you say you are a Christian, then that’s what you are. It doesn’t matter how you behave, what you believe, and you may be lying out your ass. It would be so much simpler today, when I can look at folks like Spencer and just say no.

So, who are those Christians, and who says so? They do. They are not just one thing. At least they seem to have stopped killing each other, for now.

While some denominations continue to grow, PEW research makes the case in this study that Christians are giving it up for atheism in enough numbers to hang your hat on.

Bill

The Mixing of Wedded Bliss

In the Catholic Church, canon law deals with mixed marriages (a marriage between a Catholic and a baptized person outside the Church) and marriages in disparity of cult (marriage between a Catholic and an unbaptized person). Distinction is made between inter-denominational and interfaith marriage, and some denominations extend their own rules and practices to other Christian denominations.

I have no idea of the Church’s position if one of the married couple later embraces atheism. That may be grounds for annulment since virtually anything is.

It’s been going on for about 1,500 years, since the first council to address it was about that long ago, it has been brought to us through history, and it is still an issue today. However, Catholics marry non-Catholics all the time, given Catholic Church dispensation or not. The religious groups least likely to marry outside their faith are Mormons and Hindus. Muslims have some strict rules as do Orthodox Jews. But I know of several people who became Mormon for the purpose of marriage. I don’t know if they de-converted after the divorce.

All my biological grandparents were dead by the time I was born. My maternal grandmother, Katherine M., died over 100 years ago of a prenatal illness, an event that she would almost certainly survive today. Her husband died in 1943, long after remarrying and fathering more children with a Lutheran lady and the only grandparent I knew. She was my step-grandmother. Katherine was Irish and Roman Catholic. My grandfather, after whom I am named William, had been born in Wales and was a life-long Presbyterian. I wish I knew more of the story.

Family dysfunction and distress caused by such long-passed events are seldom chosen topics for most formal family history. But I suspect there was some bother over 120 years ago due to this mixed marriage, even though rules were followed, ‘all i’s were dotted and t’s crossed.’

Such religiously mixed marriages were a pain to get approved. But if one wanted to remain within the good graces of the Catholic Church, and in many cases one’s family, it was a must. The farther back in time you go, the bigger the challenge. I have no idea what Presbyterians might have thought, but I suspect there were issues with gramps marring a Catholic and promising to raise all children as Catholic. Issues may have arisen within his family, but I can’t prove it. When I peek at his relationships with his family, I can imagine estrangement.

My mother and her older sister, who we called Lorry, were both raised as Catholics in a Lutheran household with a Presbyterian patriarch. That was their religion and apparently no one ever tried to change it. Aunt Lorry was a strict and upright personality (old maid aunt) who always treated me wonderfully. She was a hard core and strict ‘Latin Mass’ Catholic until the changes of Vatican II began to find their way into the religious practices of the Church, most specifically, the Mass.

While she managed with the priest facing her and speaking a language she understood, the hand shaking, hugs, and kissing during the sign of peace (a Christian greeting common in many Protestant services) were too much and she stopped attending Mass. That was a big deal since failure to attend Mass was considered a mortal sin by many, and only one of those gets you a personal ticket to Hell.

I understood that better than when I learned that my brother-in-law stopped going to Mass because there was too much emphasis on love. Seriously. God forbid such debauchery! (Italian and 30-year USMC top kick.)

The only Catholic girl I ever had any interest in was my friend’s sister, June. We were friends, but never had a romantic relationship. I do not recall ever having a Catholic girlfriend.

I married young, in a church, with a Methodist minister presiding (Air Force Chaplain), to a protestant girl who had disavowed the fundamentalist denomination of her parents. I asked for no dispensation from the Catholic Church, although the Air Force had to grant me permission first. Young enlisted military marriages were problematic, so I understand. They said, “fine.”

Neither of us was religious, but we were not anti-religion either. We did not attend church. In the 70s we had two sons. At some point we decided to exercise our option for a Catholic wedding. Both boys were baptized, and we were (re)married by a priest after weeks of Catholic educational counseling by the unmarried priest.

The priest nearly blew it when he told my wife of almost 10 years that I was the head of the family, and she was to submit to me. We discussed it, and I did what damage control I could, but the harm had been done. While she laughed it off, she knew that he was stating an official church position that neither of us agreed with (add birth control and face-to-face confession to the list).

My wife did not convert to Catholicism until about 25 years later. The boys and I were Catholic, and she was not for most of the time. But you could hardly tell. We tried being a Catholic family until one day she looked at me and said, “I can’t do this.” I agreed that we had tried it, but that it was not working for us.

For the next few years we did not do much church. I don’t recall much practice of religion until we got hooked up with a Methodist Church when we were stationed in California. Our daughter was baptized in the Methodist church, and I think our oldest son was essentially confirmed after some religious classes, which I also attended.

We were doing fine until one day the leadership of the Methodist religion decided to write a letter that spoke for all Methodists, in my opinion. I was still a Catholic attending a protestant church with my family. But the fact that they wrote the letter, ostensibly speaking for me and my family pissed me off. I stopped going, and that ended that. We grappled with other protestant churches for the wrong reasons, but eventually gave that up.

One day in 1999, after reading a book by Thomas Merton, I decided to give the Catholic Church one more try. After moving to a new city, my wife and I jumped into a large Catholic Parish. We did well and grew into church leadership, did about everything possible for about 12 years (missions, teaching, she was the parish administrative specialist/secretary and front-office gate keeper, I ended up President of the Parish Council).

For at least the last few years of that, atheism made sense to me and the existence of god and all that, upon which the church was supposedly founded, did not.

I learned so much about Catholicism, the hierarchy, clergy, apologetics, the Bible, the Catechism, and all the good and bad side of church, religion, and the religious. While I ended up with some big-time issues with religion in general, my issue with the whole thing was simply that I did not really believe any of it. I tried to. I tried and tried and tried.

I did not believe any god or gods existed and I gradually morphed into a full-blown, out, minor-militant atheist. My conclusion that no god existed was not based on any issues with religion in general, the Catholic Church specifically, or any of the people or the maniacal clergy.

I’ve seen people identify themselves as a Jewish atheist. I’m not sure I would like to identify as a Catholic atheist simply because that makes no sense. But what of love, marriage, and family?

An acquaintance’s son, because of such mixed issues, decided to marry in a non-Catholic, in a non-church setting. The father did not attend the wedding because of this. None of my business, but I was furious. I could not understand why the guy had put such a minor religious issue before his family. To place such a stupid standard above his son’s happiness escaped my understanding of both love and religion. The man I knew could never undo his failure to show love for his son and his wife, and while they did reconcile, the man died never able to undo the damage caused by his interpretation of religion. It was not the Church’s fault. He made that decision on his own.

Life is not static, neither are people or our beliefs and standards. Things change. I read about and listened to The Graceful Atheist Podcast with the wife of man who was as devout as they come (not unlike Neil Carter and David, the host of the podcast) when the marriage began, but fell away from religion, deconverted, and became an outed atheist. Their marriage survives, but clearly religion is an issue as she is a very active church lady.

Marriage is difficult enough. It’s unfortunate that religion intervenes to make it more difficult.

Bill

Do Atheists have an Anti-Religious Bias?

I know. That seems like a silly (maybe stupid) question.

The online Merriam Webster dictionary defines anti-religious as opposing or hostile to religion or to the power and influence of organized religion. It states that an anti-religious person may have a religious bias (Merriam-Webster.com).

Really? But then, wouldn’t a religious person have a pro-religious bias?

I define an atheist as a person who, at the very least, doubts, questions, or is skeptical of the existence of any god. This doubt, to some degree, may range from there might not be a god to a level of certitude that no deity exists. The problem is that one can be religious based on practices and behavior (not belief) and still share the maybe not doubt.

It gets more complicated when the picture of relationship with a deity is considered. This is when the concept of religion is presented. I claim to be atheist. I also think I understand why people may say they believe in god, why they practice some religion, and why they think I should.

To many, religion and god are inseparable. While the two belong together, I doubt the inseparable part.

Either a god exists, or it doesn’t. While no belief or religion changes anything about existence, religion most definitely effects what theists believe. It also influences how someone thinks and behaves vis-à-vis the belief in that a deity, spirit, or a god. It is not I believe, therefore I’m religious; it’s more like, I’m religious, therefore I believe.

The problem is that religion, while unquestionably a human creation, is the process of how we should deal with said god, which is, hypothetically, not a creation of humans. Religion dogmatizes the protocol with the vastness of spiritual trappings that accompany a god spirit.

I don’t know how many religions exist, but even within each there are likely disputing denominations. Further disparity exists with personal-level religious selective interpretations by people in the millions.

An atheist is a disbeliever in god—all gods and spirits. However, if someone believes in any one god and none of the hundreds (if not thousands) of others, one is still considered a believer even though he or she may insist that none of the other gods ever existed, thus a disbeliever in the majority.

Antitheism is similar, if not synonymous with anti-religious, in that it applies to people who view theism as dangerous, destructive, or encouraging harmful behavior. For example, Christopher Hitchens wrote, “I’m not even an atheist so much as I am an antitheist; I not only maintain that all religions are versions of the same untruth, but I hold that the influence of churches, and the effect of religious belief, is positively harmful.” (Hitchens, Christopher (2001). Letters to a Young Contrarian, New York: Basic Books)

Okay. All religions…harmful. I agree.

A member of a musical ensemble recently told me she was distracted playing music in a church setting because she was not a believer but said that she was not an atheist in the sense that I was. Maybe she intended to say that she was not as militant as I may be. She may have been thinking me antitheist.

The comment surprised me because I was uncertain of her meaning. I would have no problem playing music in a church and sitting through the service. I’ve sat through many. My friend’s view of my personal atheism was much more antitheist and anti-religious than I think I am. Yet, to a degree I accept Hitch’s assessment. And she may be correct in that my atheism, especially as an American atheist, comes with a certain amount of anti-religion bias. I think all religion is nonsense, but I am not a religiophobe, Islamophobic, nor anti-god squad. Yet, the man with a gun over there scares me.

I think religion is pointless because the elusiveness of a god of any kind is part of virtually every religion (nix nature worshipers, some polytheists, and Buddhist-like groups). I also hold that religion has been, and may continue to be, harmful to humanity. I find this erroneous opinion of my view regarding religion to be common even among other atheists and agnostics. I also find it hard to explain because it’s not black and white.

I stopped practicing religion because after 30 years of searching for the right one, 12 years in the house of the best I could manage, and swimming in the deep end of my ministerial practice at the threshold of ordination, it dawned on me that it was all one big con. With no evidence of the existence of any god, it was clearly all woo-woo bull shit, even if occasionally psychologically helpful to some, and pointless.

Of course, some religious groups do a lot of good. Practitioners make clear that they are kind to others, the downtrodden, the sick and weak, and in very practical ways comforting to many who need it. None of that do they attempt to cover up like the harm that is done.

But they also play the victim. God is on their side of course, but they still manage to be poor and pitiful, yet fully control government and laws. And all that good? Every good thing done in the name of a religion or a god can be, and often is, done without religion or god, except for the ever-valuable, anti-materialist, thoughts and prayers.

My bias toward any religion? Of course, I have some.

Many religious believers and religions have built in biases toward other religions, sects, and denominations. I saw a bumper sticker that said, “If you support abortion [reproductive choice] you cannot be Catholic.” I may have some bias toward good people who are religious or practice some religion. But only to a limited degree in that the following of religion obviously taints anyone. Anti-fundamentalist? Definitely. I hope I continue to be opposed to any form of inflexible closed mindedness. Especially my own (Ok, boomer).

Bill

Religious and Biblical Scholars: who are they and what do they do?

Have you ever read or heard this phrase? “Biblical scholars agree … (something, something).” The words may get couched with qualifiers like most or many, but virtually never are qualifications for such standing within any group of scholars, bona fides, or verifiable statistics provided. We are to accept something because someone said that most biblical scholars think so, when none of them has ever been asked. We are not told who they are, unless they are the ones doing the reporting.

That’s because there is no agreed-to standard or licensing agency for those referred to as bible scholars or experts. When you see that phrase, it is nonsense (BS is for biblical scholars). It is a fallacious appeal to authorities that may not exist. In fact, unless it is specific as to who makes the claim and is supported by factual evidence, it’s usually made up: a lie.

I find it odd that someone would have to resort to fiction to support a biblical claim.

Yet, there are such biblical experts. In fact, here is a post by one (because he says he is one) that talks about them and what they don’t do.

He says that biblical scholarship is an intellectual enterprise (okay, but usually tainted). He also claims that scholarship in the field of biblical studies is always linked with ideological, political, cultural, and religious commitments (i.e., biases). Most of these folks have a dog in the fight and his name is bias. He is fed opinion and religious dogma through indoctrination and education.

In the discussion, the scholar goes on to state that biblical scholars not only do not study the Bible, they are not theologians or historians, do not read the Bible in Hebrew and Greek, are not objective intellectuals, and do not read the Bible for the church.

Taken individually, or even as an identified group such as Vatican biblical scholars, or those employed by BYU or Ouachita Baptist University, especially if named and verified, opinions can be taken with stronger academic validity than when the broader term biblical scholars (implying all) is used.

A person who has done advanced study in a unique field is a considered a scholar, but the focus may be unclear. One may be awarded a master’s degree in advanced studies, none of which includes anything biblical. My master’s level concentrations included Sociology, Public Administration/Political Science/Government, Education/Educational Systems Management (my MA)/Administration, and a boatload of advanced military stuff. I am a scholar of none, but Monday morning quarterback to all.

A person with a master’s degree in theology (maybe online) may not have taken as much Bible as another person with the same degree, yet an undergraduate from a Bible college may have taken several semester hours of required Bible courses or Bible history.

A person with a doctorate in theology may have a degree focused upon a specialty that was not the Bible, and it probably was filtered by the ideas of a specific religion or denomination. Or, at least, he or she had a view through that lens. I assume that these folks are the biblical scholars.

Generally, they are not secular. They are not without extreme bias (my opinion and experience), and may not be the authoritative experts we assume they are. And remember, everybody has an opinion, even scholars, scientists, experts, and village idiots.

Finally, to determine the opinions of biblical scholars, someone must conduct a survey of each and ask them questions (assuming bona fide credentials). To be valid, the survey questions must be structured and framed by experts so that the answers and assumed results are consistent, valid, and reliable.

So, when you see reference to biblical scholars, be skeptical of an attempt to persuade you with BS fantasy and lies. But you knew that. Right?

Bill