Someone who professed to be Christian once said to me, “If I didn’t believe what I believe, I would be living a whole different kind of life.” I wish I had asked him to elaborate, although in the context in the conversation, I got the impression that he meant he’d be living a much less moral existence. The implication here is that religion or god or gods are the source of morality and basic value systems.
I would have to disagree.
While I am sure there are many of the religious stripe who would be less moral individuals if they did not believe, that says nothing about the source of ethical behavior. These particular individuals are driven to “proper” behavior by a promise of eternal reward, or, if they fail, punishment. Their reasoning is, why else be ethical, if it will mean nothing in the end? They say that if god commands it, it must be good, and the ends justify the means. But, is that what morality truly means?
I am sure there is a view that many believers take of agnostics and atheists – that they must be immoral individuals since they are uninterested in taking orders from a higher power. This shows poor logic, but that is not surprising, considering the uneasy relationship logic and religion have had over the years. God and morality are not a package deal. God belief doesn’t make a person moral, and neither does lack of belief make a person immoral. The point is, one does not need to believe in, or even be aware of, a god to be moral, good, or just.
Religion doesn’t give human nature much credit. Many things known to be instinctual behaviors are considered “sinful” by most religious standards. But human nature is not dumb. Certainly, things like the instinct to eat and breed have kept the species alive. But those are not the only kinds of survival mechanisms that humans have evolved. A majority of us have a strong sense of wanting to help others; at the very least our immediate family members. While initially, altruistic behavior probably evolved from selfish means in order to establish and maintain communities, this doesn’t mean that it cannot be intrinsic to one’s being. My having a conscience does not necessitate belief in a god or a religion and its stipulations. I will always wish for the happiness of my friends and family, and I still make it a point to do the right thing. Do I do this because someone or some establishment tells me to? No. I do it because I want to, because that is the kind of person I want to be, whether I am rewarded for it or not, whether it meets the approval of a clergy or not, and whether it is what god wants or not. The reward is that hopefully, I will contribute to the happiness of others. Often, though, even when the right thing is done, there is no reward at all, and sometimes, there is even punishment. While this can be frustrating, it doesn’t change the fact that I think the right thing should be done, and that morality is not about the reward at the end, but about doing what is best, no matter the consequences to oneself. I will clarify that what is best is rarely found in a set of rules that were written down millennia ago. I think “what is best” will usually present itself in the form of “what causes the least amount of suffering for all involved?”
I will make the assumption that even if there is a god, then we can know nothing about it, under the standard definition of “god”. The gods that all the various religions describe are not terribly impressive, and if I were to be convinced of their existence, then I would be harder pressed to be convinced to worship them. Descriptions of god have made “him” out to be alternately jealous and forgiving, wrathful and loving, having a “plan”, but still requiring our prayers for intervention. If anything, god sounds like he was made in man’s image, instead of vice-versa. This shows not only a lack of imagination, but also a lack of god-like features one might expect from a being dubbed as the “almighty”.
Keeping that in mind, I will use a popular argument against the traditional notion of god. With all the suffering in the world, that an all-knowing god is surely aware of, he either can’t do anything about it (which contradicts him being all-powerful), or he won’t (which contradicts his supposed “loving” nature). How could a god who loves us so, allow for the horrible things that happen? Of particular curiosity to me are the Jews. They believe they have a covenant with god; that he has promised to protect them, that they are the “chosen people”. Why then, have they been consistently sought out for complete extermination for thousands of years? Why did their god allow the Egyptian Pharoah to enslave them, and then hardened Pharoah’s heart when Moses asked for their freedom? Where was their god during the rise of Nazi Germany? Was he looking out for them then? It almost seems like a cruel joke. Whoever this god is, he doesn’t seem terribly dependable, nor merciful, or even fatherly. He actually seems quite negligent, and if I were Jewish, I would have trouble reconciling some of these facts.
Of course, the usual response from the religious on these matters is that we are not to question god, and that he works in mysterious ways. I would think any god worth his salt wouldn’t need this sort of reasoning to excuse his inexplicably sloppy guardianship. I think what’s really happening here is that we’re searching for a why, and when there isn’t one, we invoke god’s “plan” as the basis for the atrocious acts that happen in the world every day. Honestly, though, I would rather believe that nearly everything is completely random, and that’s why bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. I would rather think that than to tell myself that there is some grand purpose that requires the pain and suffering of innocent people (children in particular). If, as a human, I allowed for the suffering of others, and justified it by saying that it was suiting some greater purpose of mine, I would be called a tyrant. I would be called selfish, and callous, and uncaring. Yet, when “god” is brought into it, then it becomes okay. Why?
Another oddity of religion is that it makes us think we can be immortal. The one thing that is sure to happen to us – death – is the one we deny over and over again, through religion. Sigmund Freud has said that a belief in the afterlife is wish fulfillment, the wish that we and our loved ones do not have to die. While I generally disagree with just about every other conclusion about humans Freud has made, I have to give him credit on this one. When I contemplate my own death, it makes me terribly uncomfortable. Contemplating the death of my husband and children is even more frightening. I cannot imagine how devastating it is to lose someone you love as much as I love them. I can understand the comfort it would bring to believe that I would see them again someday. However, I have no reason to believe this, aside from the fact that it would make me feel good, and that is not reason enough. Religion denies this reality, and I think it’s too bad.
I’ll explain why.
Thinking that we go on forever, that all the people we love are always going to be here – that’s the kind of attitude that allows us to take people for granted. When I go back to contemplating my eventual demise, it makes me realize that chances are good that this is the only life I get, the only chance I will have to spend time with the people I care about. It makes me value my time here more, because if this really is it, then I had better make the best of it. The only thing that may go on is memories of me in the minds of others, and that is incentive enough to live my life the best that I can. Punishment and reward has nothing to do with it, and neither does any god. Reason alone provides enough motivation to be ethical, and to love my family as much as I can, while I can.
The inevitable query, “But what if you’re wrong?” usually comes up at this point. What if, what if, what if…I suppose I could be wrong. If there’s a god, and it created everything, then it created me. It gave me this mind, these analytical skills, and these ideas. It gave me reason, but not faith. Keep in mind that I do not choose to be faithless; I just simply am. In the same way that I don’t choose to hate mushrooms or country music – I just do, and like having no faith, it is not something that I can help. Why would god make me, and countless others, this way, only to punish us eternally in the end for it? Another cosmic joke? Are these my choices? I must say, I haven’t been given much to work with. Sure, I could go to church and try to spread the gospel and hope that it grows on me. In the meantime, though, I would merely be operating out of a fear of hell. And I would still be faithless. Truthfully, I don’t think I would be much different than many other church-goers in that respect.
The usual reply here from theists is that I must sincerely ask god to come into my heart. You think I never tried that? You think that I just decided atheism sounded good and went into it with absolutely no investigation whatsoever? You would be wrong to assume as such. Like many atheists, I struggled with my beliefs for several years. Instead of quieting my concerns, my search only yielded more questions. With no faith to build on, and no real answers, I realized that I could not say I believed in any god while remaining intellectually honest. A more truthful statement would be that I would love it if there was a god that allowed for an afterlife where I could be with my family again. But do I really believe in it? No.
Does this make me immoral? Does this make me evil? Depends on who you ask. When it comes to believers, there are some that believe that even those who haven’t been saved but who still do good works, are good people. And there are some that believe that good works have nothing to do with it – that it’s all about your salvation. That is, you may be a serial killer, but if you repent, you will get further with god than an atheist who devotes his life to helping others. Once again, a belief like that seems downright harmful when it comes down to what we do know: That we’re here now. The concept of a repentant criminal receiving better treatment than a charitable atheist is pretty ridiculous, considering that the atheist is doing something right now to make things tangibly better – in this life that is guaranteed real – while there are believers who allow suffering because they don’t see the point in intervening.
So going back to the original statement, that believing in something makes one moral… those are the people I wonder about: the ones who are moral simply because god says so. What kind of people are they really, on the inside? To need a reward and/or approval to act properly – I think that’s juvenile. Only children operate like that. Adults are defined as such by knowing better. I guess for those adults that feel that god is keeping them in line, I should be thankful for religion, because who knows what kind of people they would be otherwise.
