No God for Five Reasons

I don’t honestly know when I realized that I did not believe God was real. I was about 15 years old when I became dismissive toward my Catholic faith.

A few years later, when I learned what an agnostic was, I jumped on that because it saved me from being labeled an atheist. And it was mostly true. I didn’t know if God was real.

That was approximately 60 years ago. I can now say that I am convinced God is not real. Because of that, I can also dump angels, saints, devils, heaven, hell, eternal life, and even the handy trope, there must be something.

I was reading Greta Christina’s “Top Ten Reasons I Don’t Believe in God.” Since my reasons (and experience) are not identical to hers, I decided to post my five reasons. That’s enough.

As George Carlin said, I tried to believe in God. For many years I tried. It was hit and miss. Eventually, I immersed myself in Catholic religious practice, after I had previously tried several Protestant denominations. They seemed shallow and superficial. I did it all: Church attendance, ministries, leadership, Bible studies, fasting, lots of extra praying, and much more. I envied believers. So did Thomas Merton as he explained in his autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain. I considered the thinking and philosophies of eastern religions. I prayed to God to cure my unbelief. I said the Apostles Creed (aka the profession of faith) as often as I thought of it. I wanted God to be real. I wanted to believe it. I eventually wrote an analogy to reflect my experience and the eventual outcome (The Man in the Room). I tried everything. Nothing worked.
The Problem of Evil is a big deal often ignored or dismissed by believers. Is it denial? Too much cognitive dissonance? The abundance of evil in the world and universe creates conceptual problems for us about God. It means that God doesn’t care, doesn’t know, or cannot fix it. Of course, we’ve all heard, “God works in mysterious ways.” I suppose some sort of deist is possible for me, but I still say the more reasonable explanation is that there is no god or creator to step up and take responsibility.
The existence of any kind of God is less logical than ghosts, tooth fairies, Santa Claus, or Leprechauns. God fails every logic test. All attempts to explain anything about any god’s existence results in mental tap dancing. I might as well believe all the aforementioned myths exist along with the thousands of named gods we’ve created throughout and before history.
It does not work for me to say, “I am. Therefore, God must be.” The lack of evidence of God’s reality or existence is overwhelming. Unless it is the Sun, a biblical golden calf, or something more than a burning bush, I see no god, hear no god, taste no god, feel no god, and I’ve no idea what a god might smell like.
Along with evil, there is much good in the world. I’m uncertain if that applies to the universe. People are quick to credit God for good stuff. I wanted there to be a good God. If God is no good, forget it. Love is good. So, they say God is love. Health is good. So, they claim God heals. Not dying and life everlasting are good, as is staying out of eternal damnation. So, they play the God card. The very fact that I wanted there to be a God who met my requirements and did as I asked contributed to my eventual disbelief. When I looked around, everyone else was doing the same thing. Creating their God in their image.

I hope that clears everything up.

Bill

Existence, Religion, and God

When I say or write that I do not believe there are any gods (or God), I try to keep the subject of religion at least in the margin, if not totally separate. Without belief in a god, the concept of religion becomes moot. Besides, religions are all over the place in what they claim. While related, god and religion are not the same topics to me. There is no chicken or the egg mystery. God first.

However, in philosophical beliefs like Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, and in new age, nature-based belief systems like Wiccan, Pagan, or Druidism, attitudes and practices could continue because their god concept does not have the same core personification and monotheistic faith requirements.

Merriam-Webster claims that religion is “the service and worship of God or the supernatural,” or “a commitment or devotion to religious faith or observance.” Religion can also be “a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices.” So, godless religion is conceivable. But their status as religions is arguable. Christians, Muslims, and Jews need God. Wiccans, not so much.

Some atheists say religion is the reason why they don’t believe. They may point to (or blame) people who are religious hypocrites for their atheism. Even the Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church claims that the way many people practice Christianity is responsible for the rise of atheism.

Indeed, the weaknesses, silliness, and irrationality of religions, many who practice them, and the associated beliefs, serve to reinforce my conclusion that there are no gods. That includes the Catholic Church. But they did not cause it.

When believers present their case for why they believe in God, and why they think I should, they always use religion to support their rationale. They may quote scripture to me, or they’ll tell me I’ll die and go to hell, or that some god will punish me because I decline to agree with them. Health and wealth believers think they get that way because of what they believe. That is religion. Beyond all that, religious believers only have our existence as proof of God.

World views and philosophy aside, for religion to be valid there must be a god. I will discuss the existence of a deity, or some supernatural supreme being, or nature, or the universe. But when someone injects that discussion with religious beliefs, it moves the goal posts and changes the subject. It’s not even the same playing field. They become the home team and that’s not fair to me and my views.

Bill

Angry Atheists

I’m not chronically angry. I am quite concerned about things politically, and I can be upset, even threatened by it all. However, just because I embrace my personal atheism, I’m not on mad autopilot.

I find the lies, deceptions, human rights violations, and self-righteousness of religions and religious people annoying, if not downright evil. Many believers agree with me. It has nothing to do with my atheism which is more about existence than religion.

Let me start with Greta Christina’s book, Why Are You Atheists So Angry? 90 Things That Piss Off the Godless. It’s a must read for those of us on the skeptical side of things. I think it is also a should read for every believer who writes, speaks, or thinks the word atheist. Greata is hardcore, but she politely makes a ton of excellent points regarding anger. Some of the things she mentions barely phase me, yet I agree with her.

Anger is a normal human emotion. I know what it is. I cannot honestly say that I have been angry because I am atheist or because I doubt if there is a god. But strangely, some people assume that emotion, if I question anything religious or spiritual.

For example, I participated in an online group regarding cancer, its treatment, and advice was sought for families and patients. People shared their situation, either as a cancer patient or as a family member. “Thoughts and prayers” were often solicited and offered. Good for them. I expect that. One time I responded to an atheist who asked if anyone else “here” was also a skeptic. I told him that he was not alone. I understand why he asked.

However, there was one long, biblical, proselytizing, graphic, and very Christian posting. I commented that I was unaware of the religious nature of the group’s page. I was not offended or angry. Yet, many respondents seemed to think I was.

The post was unusual and over the top for me. Unfortunately, group admins were unable to let go of the issue. They even invited me to say what I thought. I respectfully declined and left the group. No harm, no foul. The stated purpose of the group was to focus on cancer treatment. If it did not, I must excuse myself. But I never felt the least bit of anger, nor was I offended.

I’m offended, as in my feelings may be hurt, when people assume I am less moral or evil because I doubt their god exists. Or worse, I say their religion and god are man-made. I am offended when a U.S. President implies atheists are not American citizens. But these things would offend most people.

It is just name-calling, but it is also dangerous. I am offended when I read hateful sputum produced by so-called religious people regarding people who think differently. However, I don’t walk around angry because of it.

And yes, there are angry rants and raves by pissed off people. I titled this blog “Dispassionate Doubt” for a reason.

Bill

What is a god? Any god. Who is it?

I Googled ‘God.’ I got about 2.16 billion hits. Wow. The answer must be there. Right?

One was from a Christian religious site. Everything they claimed about God was supported with biblical citation by chapter and verse, of course. But there were two important exceptions.

First, the article claimed it’s obvious: “God’s existence is so conspicuous….” So, everyone should know. Second, it championed God by further claiming that “creation,” or existence, and human consciousness make God manifest. The writer did not answer what, or who is any god. But they continued to try.

The rest of the post made interesting claims. Such as, they said if you don’t get God right, that is idolatry, which is a sin (Pardonne-moi s’il te plaît). “God is spirit, by nature intangible.” No help there. But then they said, “We know certain things to be true of God…” Then they quoted more scripture. Why? Because all we “know” of that God are unsupported, written claims from thousands of years ago.

The piece also identified characteristics of God. Those are loving, truthful, holy, compassionate, merciful, graceful, judgmental, and forgiving. All human traits, yet again based on scripture because that’s all they have. Still not much to help with what or who a god is.

If we return to the it’s conspicuous and human consciousness claims, which make God obvious, there are problems. Nature, a certain creation of God’s, is obviously random and destructive. Additionally, God’s humans are incredibly destructive toward each other and to nature. Enter The Problem of Evil.

There is also the fact that no one is born knowing anything about any god. We are taught about God by others. God must be learned. How is that obvious, intuitive, or rising from human consciousness? And why not? Many less important things such as breathing, swallowing, our beating hearts, and more are there from day one or before.

A God, or higher power, is whatever we say it is or want it to be. We create gods and always have. That need may be a human trait. But so is thinking. A tree, nature, rain, an animal, something living in a volcano or in the sea may be a god because we say so. Personally, I like the Sun as a god. Planets named after gods and goddesses are all ready to step in for us. And what about goddesses? We’ve had Luna, Phoebe, Athena, Aurora, Flora, Freya, Iris, Cora, Selena, Thalia, and hundreds more.

I enjoy H. L. Mencken’s 1922, funeral oration for dead gods, “Memorial Service,” in which he lists names of many gods now gone. He ends with, “You may think I spoof. That I invent the names. I do not. Ask the rector to lend you any good treatise on comparative religion: You will find them all listed. They were gods of the highest standing and dignity – gods of civilized peoples – worshiped and believed in by millions. All were theoretically omnipotent, omniscient, and immortal. And all are dead.”

None of those gods ever actually existed. The author of the referenced Christian article would almost certainly agree with Mencken and me, with one exception. The one God and religion they were luckily born into and taught about. Lucky them.

I see the Sun. I get it. It’s there every day. We need it to survive. It preceded us and probably contributed to human and nature’s existence. Why not retro that old god? It’s nothing new. What is a solar system without a Sun?

Bill

And That’s a Fact, Jack.

Back when years began with nineteen instead of twenty, my head was topped with slightly thin, dark-brown hair with hints of gray near the temples. I had the look and was living through a time known as midlife.

I was treated well — an “expert” in my field. While I enjoyed it, I often felt that expectations of me pushed the limits of my knowledge and capabilities. As in baseball, I won some and lost some. Thinking back, I now realize that I was dealing with a minor form of imposter syndrome.

Eventually, I got comfortable saying, “I don’t know.” That helped, as did, “I don’t care” and “I was wrong.” I am cautious with those last two. Not caring may be offensive. Admitting error requires sufficient contrary evidence. To this day, I do not need to know how the Cosmos came into being. I’d like to know. But regardless of how it happened, it is what it is.

Back then, I carried a blue, loose-leaf binder notebook. I inserted humorous quotes and sarcastic cartoons into the outside front cover. One serious insert I wrote proclaimed, “I have not decided everything yet. If you quote me, I may have changed my mind.”

That was my way of declaring that I was still figuring things out: learning. While I had a few firm opinions, I was a true believer of nothing.

I learned to be careful sharing my thoughts and to couch my reasons. I tried to be clear about what I think versus proclaiming what fact is. I still do that.

Since college, I’ve been a fan of Eric Hoffer’s book, The True Believer. I don’t think I “got it” until the last five or ten years. While I want to take a clear side for moral reasons, I also do not want to become blinded to truth and reality. I wasn’t neutral, but I wanted as much rational, logical certainty about my own beliefs as I could muster. I was naïve to think most others felt the same. Thankfully, many people are reasonable and rational, even if not as many as I’d like.

I began to realize that people I knew were masquerading as intelligent, open-minded, caring souls, but were disguised true believers. I should have known. I was often disappointed.

I like M. Lamar Keene’s expression for what causes people to believe things proven to be false: the true believer syndrome.

He asked, “What is it that compels a person, past all reason, to believe the unbelievable. (sic) How can an otherwise sane individual become so enamored of a fantasy, an imposture, that even after it’s exposed in the bright light of day (sic) he still clings to it — indeed, clings to it all the harder?”

While Keene and Hoffer were each referring to different types of true believers, they are clearly related phenomena, although not as unusual as I used to think. Today we find them deeply involved in religion and politics. Are they dangerous?

I prefer being a skeptic to the mental chains of a true believer. If I must have a syndrome, I choose imposter.

Bill

Wasted Effort: Deadly Attitude

I read about Iraan (1,200 pop., pronounced Ira-Ann), a town in far west Texas oil country that has been devastated by COVID. It focused on a man named Sammy and town residents who prayed for him and their little town.

Sammy was hospitalized on a Thursday in the town’s small 14-bed rural clinic with no ICU or any means to care for COVID patients, despite a horrendous infection rate. The following Saturday, after days of prayers for an open ICU bed, he was airlifted to San Angelo, where he died after five days of ICU treatment. An interview was posted by CNN.

Many people prayed. Some residents seemed to dance around and cry and waive their arms in the air praying. Is that better praying? Few town residents wore masks that I could tell, but some wore the blue surgical type.

People who prayed seemed especially enthusiastic when on camera (God watches CNN, right?). The line of trucks and cars with people in them sat quietly, ostensibly also praying, but also social distancing just in case the gathering was a bad idea.

Then after a week of praying, this was posted: “Thank you to everyone who prayed… Sammy is with Jesus,” He died.

I know of no thanks given to anyone else. The human effort expended to help Sammy was apparently not acknowledged, but if you prayed in a failed effort, you were at least thanked. I would like to think everyone who tried to save the man was thanked, even if they did not pray, even if they were atheists.

No mention was made of more town folks masking up. No mention of getting vaccinated (the county, Pecos, is 54%, which is good for that area). Just praying. Lots of prayers. Numbers seem to count with prayer, so more is better. Sometimes loudness, waving hands in the air, and dancing also matter.

I found this comment clearly flagged in bright big blue letters on the Iraan clinic’s web page: “We have a sufficient supply of Moderna COVID-19 vaccine available. Please call our Rural Health Clinic @ 432-639-XXXX or (name deleted), RN, CNO @ 432-639-XXXX with eligibility questions or to schedule your appointment today!” I don’t know the town’s vax rate.

Did Sammy wear a mask? Was he vaccinated, or did he and his wife decide to let go and let God? I don’t care why not. Did Sammy die because of an attitude?

My daughter and grandson live in/near a small, but larger, west Texas town about 150 miles from Iraan. I’ve been there many times. My wife grew up living in several such towns. The COVID vax rate in my daughter’s west Texas county is 32%. Few, if any, folks wear any kind of mask. Those who do risk harassment. I know the mentality. I don’t like it, but the virus doesn’t care. I would expect the infection and death rates to be higher than I can find. But who knows?

I do not expect people to stop praying, getting sick, or dying. No one will change their faith because of anything I say or do. I hope the situation in the town and death of a popular man entice more folks to do all they can to be safe. If they must pray and they want to think it works, fine.

But as my father used to tell me, “God helps them that helps themselves.” And if you expect God to make you a lottery winner, you must still buy, find, or steal a ticket. What we do matters, God or no god. Prayers or not.

Bill

Poem: Holy Knickknacks, Batman

Also posted on pluviolover.com.

Got my Indian Buddha statue
the next day
after some Catholic Answers lecture guy
told us it was a mortal sin to have one.
First Commandment (Catholic version), no less.

My graven image now sits with my Dragon Chalice,
lion statue, and cowboy with horse bronze art,
family photos, among other things.
He’s been lotus sitting around my house,
mostly in my room, for more than 20 years.
The best years of my life
have been with Siddhartha.

My family has concurred many demons.
I’ve beaten cancer (for now), completed 15 marathons,
written hundreds of poems, cheated death
and heart disease (also temporarily),
lost twenty pounds (several times),
and today I mark 75 years since I squeezed
through Mom’s birth canal. Sorry, Mom.

My mother claimed I was a contrarian.
Dad said I was only half-Irish and my sibs
considered me a spoiled brat (that’s still true).
The (younger then I) lecturer from the diocesan chancery
died two years afterwards.
Wrong statue or just superstition, I guess.

Bill

Essay: Is it just me?

I thought I had been open about my skepticism and conclusions regarding the unlikely existence of any gods. I openly declared my atheism not many years ago. It felt great and I was happy to be freely expressing my honest opinion, one I’d held for years prior to admitting, “Yes. I am an atheist.” My doubts became my story.

After I let people with access to my Facebook posts know I did not believe in god, I noticed that some things changed. I also discovered that while some folks decided not to continue initiating communication with me, they would respond. Okay, that’s fine. I expected believers to take a step back or just end any relationship we had. As far as I can tell, no one chose the latter. The limited reaction was less than expected.

Then, last week I announced my pending hospital incarceration following a significant medical procedure. I’m home now and fine. I also knew their thoughts, prayers, and healing energy would be offered. Also, fine. One person said she would pray and didn’t care what I thought of it. I clicked like for her comment and I said, thank you. Not a problem. I am an atheist, not an ass hole.

One man said he would be thinking about me, but that he was “not much of a church goer” (i.e., excuse me if I do not offer to pray for you), but he wished me good luck. As I typed my response, I noticed that I was reluctant to tell him that “this atheist” appreciated his kind words, concern, and would rather he not pray for me. I realized my reluctance to tell him I am atheist. Why is that? It’s not a secret. I thought I wanted people to know.

I am not in any closet. Yet, I stopped to consider the consequences of telling the truth. Others would see it. Others would judge.

Last week “someone” posted here that I was a fool for not believing in god, that I would meet god face-to-face, but it would then be too late. We all know what he or she (“someone” is how WP listed the name) was implying by too late.

Some people are fond of informing me that I shall burn for an eternity in Hell because I choose not to believe what I seem unable to believe. I need to keep in mind that the antipathy of many believers toward atheists (and vice-versa) is seeded with fear. But either I am out, open, and honest, or I am not.

It’s not only me, is it?

Bill

What agnostics are not

According to the Merriam-Webster.com on-line Dictionary, the word agnostic shares part of its history with words such as prognosticate and prognosis, words which have something to do with knowledge or knowing.

The word atheist shares roots with words such as theology and theism, which have to do with god or gods, not knowledge thereof. There is a difference.

Being an agnostic is not, as many assume, halfway between being a believer or a nonbeliever. One has to do with knowledge, or the ability of humans to have knowing, while the other identifies a proclaimed conclusion regarding the existence of a god. Halfway could be either unconvinced atheists or unconvinced believers. I’ve probably fit both unconvinced categories at different times of my life.

According to me (I made this up), there are three types of agnostics. First are all the people who say they are agnostic. Second are all the people who do not believe in any gods but cannot prove that none exist (atheists). The third group are those who do believe in any number of gods (usually one), but likewise cannot prove the existence of even one god.

If you add groups one, two, and three; that equals everybody. Therefore, claiming to be agnostic is akin to staking a claim to be one of everyone (sarcastic eye roll). In the end, we’re all agnostic.

I don’t care if god talks to any of us, shoots lightning into our brains, or saves one of us from a hungry wolf (apologies to Duran Duran), we don’t know if such events are true and no one knows if god exists. We simply choose to claim such a belief, usually because that is what someone taught us.

We were not born with that belief. We may want there to be a god. Okay. It may make us feel good to think god exists. Also, fine. We may claim faith. Wonderful. But none of us knows. Not one person.

In my opinion, people who claim to be agnostic are essentially atheist because they do not hold to the belief or conclusion that a god exists. Knowing or not knowing is immaterial to belief. Either we believe in god, or we don’t.

We may have doubts. Maybe we want to believe but can’t. Maybe we have some other rationale for our position. All good. Someone may say they believe in god and be lying. That’s fine by me. But staking a claim to middle ground by hiding behind the claim of agnosticism seems disingenuous, in my (not so) humble opinion.

If we say we are agnostic, as we all should because we don’t know, that takes us back to why people believe: faith and preference, not knowledge.

That’s just how it works. It should be clear, but it’s not. I think it’s fair to ask someone why they do or do not believe in a god. If the answer sounds like I am agnostic, then I must assume they do not believe, unless they say otherwise.

Peace,

Bill

Fun video:

Skepticism Seems Weird

I like to think of myself as a simple skeptic in that while I am disposed to skepticism regarding gods, most religious principles, and anyone trying to sell me something (are those last two redundant?), I try to not make too much of it.

I’m prone to read the fine print. One could call me a disbeliever, doubter, questioner, or unbeliever. I say simple because I have no deep philosophical basis for my doubts. To me, skepticism is partly common sense, reasonable caution, and experientially learned discernment. I admit that it gets touchy with religion, but that’s not my fault. Doubting and questioning some things are normal to me.

Conversely, I want to trust people. I prefer to take what people say at face value (except politicians and preachers). I like the little phrase, without trust, there is no us. I assume most people are trusting and generally trustworthy. However, I still request evidence when someone makes claims for which my support, acceptance, or belief is solicited.

As far as supernatural stuff goes, if anything requires my belief beforehand for it to become true, or for it to work, I judge such things with an idiomatic jaundiced eye. The same goes for a lot of health and wealth stuff that I consider quackery, schemes, and scams.

I’m an advocate of traditional medicine. Yet, I don’t accept everything my doctors tell me. I often ask, based on what research do you make that claim? My doctors are not always right, and I think they know it.

So, if skepticism is so normal, why do I say it seems weird?

I have a friend who seems to be skeptical of everything, with one glaring exception. When I suggested he use a fact-checking website like Snopes to verify the accuracy of things, he asked how I knew I could trust them. That discussion lasted a while, but I never convinced him of anything. That was weird.

I continue to be astonished that so many of us insist there is an invisible man in the sky but seem incapable of accepting many things for which there is ample empirical evidence.

Maybe it’s just another conspiracy.

Bill