Posts Tagged ‘foundation’

Longing for Something? Maybe it’s Sex.

Tuesday, March 31st, 2009

This morning, one of the trains on my metro line went out of service, which isn’t unusual, forcing the excess of passengers in the next train to huddle in quiet desperation, trying their best not to touch one another or, heaven forbid, utter more than a monosyllabic grunt toward strangers they share such claustrophobic space with on a daily basis. That is the nature of the DC metro. I remember someone asked me a question while I was riding home one evening, and it took me a few moments to realize that I was being spoken to, and that someone actually wanted a response. It was like being acknowledged as alive in a sea of zombies. Perhaps that’s the same feeling religious people get when they delude themselves into thinking they’re being singled-out by a divine being. Jesus is my friend. God loves me. When there’s nothing else in the world giving me the attention I crave, I seek God’s attention. That’s a major selling point of religion — a cure for eternal loneliness.

It’s sad to think that we’re so antisocial or unnurtured that we crave something imaginary to make up for it. It’s like a child’s imaginary friend — always there, always loving. A pity that adults feel the need to do this, as well, but it’s also realistic. The world is a harsh environment, despite our luxuries. Not only are people generally cruel and unforgiving, but the actual environment is also unrelenting — people freeze and starve to death, and it’s 2009! It’s pretty easy to think how someone might wish to think that there is something out there better than this, and that the creator of everything is more than just a fairy tale. It might very well soften the pain that this world gives us.1

While standing there, in the metro train, trying to hold on to a handlebar straining my reach while simultaneously trying to avoid getting butt-bumped by the people behind me and trying not to shove my groin too far into the faces of the people sitting in front of me, I gave up my feeble attempt to read the morning paper. I looked up and saw the following advertisement: “Longing for something? Maybe it’s God. Come find out more. Maybe-its-God.org”, with an image of a church, emblazoned with a bright white star. At the bottom, “Archdiocese of Washington.”2

I didn’t grimace. I didn’t frown. My eyebrow may have shot up in curiosity, but my first thought was, “I might have easily had missed this. I really need to look around more and pay attention to my surroundings.” I groped for my camera and shot a few seconds of the poster while not caring what anyone else had to think about my behavior (which is unusual for me — I like my religio-curious anonymity). After putting the camera away, I read the poster a few times. How did I feel about it? Did it anger me?

I’ve written a bit about these pro- and anti-god posters on public transportation, and I insist that everyone has an equal right to say what they think — censorship of one is censorship of all. So, unlike many of the religious people protesting the atheist signs, I don’t condone judging on the basis of content whether a statement can or cannot be made. However, that doesn’t prevent me from having my own feelings and opinion about the content of these ads. An earlier ad, near the holidays, suggested quite sternly (using a paraphrasing of a bible verse) that since I am an atheist, I must be a fool. I didn’t much like that one. It’s name-calling, rude. Although ads like that might depict honest perspectives, such callousness is not necessarily beneficial for either side.

Taking that into consideration, this new sign was actually quite well done, and believers and nonbelievers alike can learn a bit from it. First of all, the sign doesn’t point fingers. It doesn’t accuse, and it doesn’t assume anything about the reader. If you’re not longing for something, it’s not speaking to you — perhaps your life is filled with the joy of astrology or pet grooming or even biochemistry; it allows for that and doesn’t pass judgment. If you are longing for something, it’s speaking to you, but it’s passively offering a suggestion — maybe it’s God. Certainly. It may be that you are, indeed, longing for God. Plenty of people do long for some sort of spirituality, divine connection, keen insight into the whys of the world. God, to many, fits that description. Of course, I don’t personally think that God is the answer to any longing I may feel, but who am I to deter others from taking that path or testing it to see if it’s right for them?

An ad like that is simple, compelling, non-judgmental, and, most of all, it’s true. I’m not saying that God exists, but I am saying that the statement “Longing for something? Maybe it’s God.” is not untrue, and the gentleness of its delivery, with the added “Come find out more” is a hook quite difficult with which to find fault. This is what is missing from many other pro- and anti-god ads, and something that should be seriously considered by advertisers.3

One example of a potentially neutral, possibly inviting message is that of the atheist billboard campaign started by the Greater Philadelphia Coalition of Reason (“PhillyCOR”), stating simply, “Don’t believe in God? You are not alone.”
Don't believe in God?
This is a straightforward, not untrue message, offering a bit of social comfort to those who think similarly. Although it’s not as immediately inviting as the Archdiocese ad, it’s not harsh or bitter like other ads from both sides. Anyone should be able to look at the ad, answer the question, and then either ignore the ad or read on for more information. “Don’t believe in God?” Yes, I don’t believe in God. What now? I’m not alone? There are others out here in the world bold enough to call out to me on a billboard? Now I’m interested! In the alternative, if I did believe in God, I could just stop right there, theoretically, and this billboard, just like the Archdiocese poster, doesn’t demand that I continue. Most importantly, neither make accusations about my morality, intelligence, or eternal soul if I do read on.

A more holiday-oriented atheist ad states, “Is belief in God necessary? Just be good for goodness’ sake,” suggesting that morality is pre-religion, either genetic or just a result of reason, or both, and that one can be good without God. This sign got a lot of flack in the media. It’s the “controversial atheist sign.” The perhaps subtle difference between this and the previous sign is that the former was passive, while this sign preaches. Yes, I said preaches. What I mean by that is that it is effectively telling you what to do — “be good” — and why — “for goodness’ sake.” Although I might agree, it’s still an imposition. It’s not unlike an evangelist telling me that if I don’t repent, I’ll go to hell. That’s making a factual assertion. Despite the fact that I fully agree with the idea that God is unnecessary, the idea that I must be good for goodness’ sake (if I’m to be good at all) is not something I can fully back, and not something I think is supported by science.

What in hell is goodness, anyway? Yes, it’s just a play on words, I know that. But, again, it’s someone telling me what to do, and why. That rubs me the wrong way, as, apparently, it did for various religious complainers who tried to have DC metro remove anything with an anti-god message (kudos to DC metro for refusing). Some religious organizations, on the other hand, responded in kind, offering up a twisted retort4Why believe? Because I created you and I love you, for goodness’ sake. – GOD.

Although those advertisers should get a hell of a lot of flack from their own side for being so arrogant as to put words in God’s mouth, they do get a modicum of credit for wordplay from the atheist ad. It might have come off as less abrasive had it taken a different perspective other than from God’s own lips — for example, if it had said, “Why believe? Because God created you and loves you, for goodness’ sake.”, then it’s slightly less self-righteous. However, still, it’s making a factual claim — this is the way things are, period. That feels almost threatening to me. It reminds me of the fire and brimstone sermons of the south, where I lived much of my life. It’s not inviting at all, and it presumes that whoever created it is a literal spokesperson for God, or that the person is, indeed, delusional. Contrast that with the first atheist campaign ad I addressed that merely asks a question, and then comforts the reader, suggesting that there are others who don’t believe. No forcefulness or coercion. No threats. No accusations. Also, no promises or questions of fact. That makes it appealing.

Considering what might be a set of positive characteristics for any ad, atheist or religious, a good response to the newest pro-God ad could borrow the original pattern, but make it inviting.

Here’s my humble attempt:

Longing for something?
Science
Maybe it’s science.
Come find out more.

What do you think?

UPDATE: I’ve gotten a lot of “longing for science? doesn’t lift up my skirt” comments. Is the idea that God takes care of some emotional need that science or other worldly pursuits cannot match, or is it just that out of all the categories to choose from, “science” just isn’t appealing in a way that would ever reflect “longing”?

Fine. Here’s my new one:

Longing for something?
The Kiss
Maybe it’s sex.
“Come” find out more.

  1. You might be thinking that rich people feel no such pain; they have every luxury, whatever they want, they get. However, that would be overlooking the fact that we’re all very emotional beings, and similarly limited in our physical and mental capabilities. Rich people feel physical and emotional pain, and they eventually die, like the rest of us. There’s no reason to think that a rich person wouldn’t feel the need for a special friend, as much as anyone else. [<]
  2. Head to the Archdiocese website for more information, an explanatory video from Archbishop Wuerl, and the suggestion that the ad is focused mostly on former churchgoers. It’s evident that church attendance is constantly in decline, and that obviously worries religious organizations that are fueled by donations and popularity. The Archdiocese site even says, “If you have been away from church for some reason, I invite you to come back again to pray and to attend Mass.” Honestly, one of my first wicked thoughts upon seeing the poster was, “What, are you longing to have your children sexually abused?” But I found that unfair. Although the Catholic church should be brought up on charges (and its tax-exempt status revoked) for its reprehensible mismanagement of the sexual abuse situation, every individual in the church cannot be blamed for the acts of a few, just as we cannot blame an AIG administrative assistant for causing a financial disaster. Unfortunately, the church does create the conditions where sexual deviancy thrives, and it perpetuates falsehoods about sexuality in ways that endanger entire nations. So, why am I not riled up at the advertisement? Because I endorse individual choice and responsibility as well as free speech. Which is why I think maybe an ad that departs significantly from my suggestions in this article might be appropriate in response: “Longing for something? Please don’t let your path end at the Catholic church. It stands for tyranny and injustice everywhere, and it harbors dissatisfaction, distrust, and doubt even within its own ranks regarding its adherence to medieval doctrine and sexuality. Go there and learn all you can about it, though, and make your own decisions. When you want to learn the facts about life and not some old man’s perverted vision of the truth, come back here, and we’ll talk.” Perhaps that’s too harsh. [<]
  3. See http://blog.seattlepi.com/thebigblog/archives/156393.asp for a quick take on the Washington State controversy over the Freedom From Religion Foundation’s anti-religious sign; also see the Atheist Bus campaign at http://www.atheistcampaign.org/ for Ariane Sherine’s “There’s probably no god, so stop worrying and enjoy your life” bus ads. Is this another imposition, or is this message somehow carefree and friendly? [<]
  4. that’s extra-twisty for you linguists [<]

Being an Atheist is Like Accepting the Fact that You Aren’t Going to Win the Lottery

Thursday, March 5th, 2009

When I buy a lottery ticket, I start dreaming big. What would I do with the money? I draft intricate plans, usually focusing on making sure my family is well cared for, and that my friends are helped on their way to accomplishing their dreams. Then I think about the great things I’d do for society. I’d advance scientific pursuits; I’d create grants and other charities for people who prize living life rationality over mythologically. I’d be charitable, wise, and happy, and I’d do my best to help others accomplish the same.

And when I lose (I always lose), I am utterly disappointed, and my plans dissolve with the ripped-up ticket. But what happens next is what analogously distinguishes me from religious believers — reality hits me. I realize that to accomplish anything but a life in some gutter, I will have to keep working. I have to wake every morning, go to my job, make money, and feed it to the system in which I belong. Essentially, I have to live my life as if I will never win the lottery.

Any achievements I ever make will be based solely on my merit, not on some chance, not on some luck. If luck should hit, I’ll happily observe the hard life in hindsight, but I cannot live as if that will happen, else I will not be living, I’ll be daydreaming. I like daydreaming, but I cannot live in it as a reality. And I accept this, because I know that no amount of hope, fortune telling, praying, or persistence will make me win the lottery. So, I live my life in the here and now, and I do the best I can with that knowledge.

When Christians hope for heaven, it’s as if they buy a lottery ticket and immediately quit their jobs and responsibilities before the numbers are pulled. In other words, it’s a psychological anticipatory abandonment of this mortal coil with an expectation of a spiritual life afterward. Believers follow what they believe is a strict doctrine that guarantees their ascension, or at least significantly increases their chance at eternal bliss, and in doing so, they reject anything that could conflict with their foundations that have established such a quid pro quo system. In the process, they rationalize the necessity to do that which I already do (e.g., work for a living), but simultaneously they find reasons to oppose the things that make this life more pleasurable, more long-lasting, and more worthwhile, like sexual liberty, scientific advancements, and the quest for knowledge, in hopes that by doing so, they increase the likelihood that their numbers will fall in exactly the right places.

This myopic wager ignores the fact that few, if any, of the numbers chosen by believers are identical to those of other believers. If the biblical god is so absolute and specific that it should be a one-way ticket to hell to commit sodomy, then what of the believer who, by toiling at work in overtime on a beautiful Saturday, considers herself safe from eternal damnation by the mere fact that she protests the former? These are the wagers that the believers make, and the stakes are the essences of their lives, and the lives of those whom they affect.

Although there is certainly a glimmer of that daydream hope that both the Christians and I share when I buy a lottery ticket and the Christians pray, I get to check my numbers and check myself back in to reality. Christians deny themselves that bereavement, and thus they deny themselves that which they claim God has given them — life.

This article is featured as an Editor’s Pick at Daylight Atheism’s Carnival of the Godless #113

Addendum:

Some readers (or people who just read the title and not the entire post) have expressed difficulty seeing the analogy. As not to disturb the free flow of the original article (and to be not disingenuous toward the Carnival), I’m just going to add a clarification here.

I’m not talking about the religious playing the actual lottery. I’m not making a distinction between religious people who work and those who don’t. I’m foremost saying that when I buy a lottery ticket, I make a choice whether to convince myself that I will win (or I have a great chance of winning), or continue with my life as if I will not win (because evidence shows that I have a 1 in multi-million chance of winning, and regardless of how much “effort” I put into “playing,” it will never increase those chances), unlike religious people who play the “lottery” of religion — they choose a religion (essentially indirectly by having it chosen for them by where they are born, but perpetuating it anyway in light of evidence otherwise) and they “bet” on their interpretation being correct so that they can “win” that religious lottery and go to heaven.

So, I’m saying that in order to be an atheist, one must abandon that hopeful afterlife bet (that would otherwise result in a life of hypocrisy and self-abuse) in the same manner that someone who plays the lottery shouldn’t “bet the house.”

And to respond to the idea of “but you could still win the lottery” :

Yes, I could still win the lottery, but I do not LIVE as if I WILL win (I live as if I won’t, despite there being an abysmal chance I could win).
Christians (and other religious people) LIVE as if they WILL go to heaven (or wherever), despite there being an abysmal chance that they will.
That’s something I had to give up in order to be an atheist.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Creationism – Redux

Tuesday, February 10th, 2009

Book Review- Monkey Girl, by Edward Humes

Book review by L.Grey, with permission.

In the time of Galileo it was argued that the texts, ‘And the sun stood still … and hasted not to go down about a whole day’ (Joshua x. 13) and ‘He laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not move at any time’ (Psalm cv. 5) were an adequate refutation of the Copernican theory.

Alan Turing, Computing Machinery and Intelligence, Mind 59 (1950), 443.

Monkey Girl by Edward Humes ISBN: 9780060885489, ISBN10: 0060885483 Ecco (imprint of Harper Collins) Hardcover 400 pages, $25.95

What does it mean when proponents of Intelligent Design say “teach the controversy”?

You may think you know what the controversy is about, but you’ll never get a more thorough and up-to-date analysis of the Kitzmiller vs. Dover Area School District trial than Edward Humes’ book Monkey Girl. The 2005 trial was one of the latest episodes of the seemingly never-ending struggle for the hearts and minds of public school students. This is a fight between those who feel that Science describes nature pretty well, and those who believe that anything other than a strict literal interpretation of the Bible deserves a trip to hell and excommunication from polite society. The trial itself was a gripping account of small-town drama unfolding over the course of a year, of parents and children enduring intimidation and humiliation. Witnesses from both sides turned the courtroom into a fascinating arena of scientific evidence versus faith dressed in science’s clothing. At least three books have come out of the case (see further reading below for details), and Ed Humes’ Pulitzer Prize-winning writing style and even-handed coverage make Monkey Girl a compelling choice. Humes not only covers the case, he describes the town as the trial transforms it:

Dover sits firmly astride the front lines of America’s culture war, occupying the uneasy space between America’s religious faith and its longstanding fondness for scientific progress, between an idealized past and an uncertain future, between education and indoctrination, between the natural and the supernatural. For the next several months, the ninth floor courtroom in the Ronald Reagan Federal Building will belong to Kitzmiller et al versus Dover Area School District, an unintentionally epic lawsuit filed by a group of parents against their evolution-doubting school board. The case does indeed have much in common with the 1925 Scopes Monkey trial, a public spectacle in which Clarence Darrow and the American Civil Liberties Union unsuccessfully challenged a Tennessee law banning the teaching of evolution. But unlike its illustrious predecessor (which, popular imagination and classic films notwithstanding, had exactly no impact on the law or educational practice at the time), the Dover case is positioned to define (or redefine) for decades just what children are taught about where we come from. [prologue, Monkey Girl]

The controversy has shifted a bit since the famous 1925 Scopes Monkey Trial, which first questioned the legality of teaching Darwin’s theory of Evolution in public schools. World War II and the Cold War demanded that the United States produce competent scientists. This demand seemed to effectively muzzle fundamentalists for a few decades. High School Biology classes approaching the Theory of Evolution would often involve an uneasy truce involving the words “changes over time” and neatly sidestepping the origins of life. Until reading this book, I assumed that all but the most extreme religious fundamentalists were fine with this truce. Humes’ book shows precisely how much this has changed.

While the book mostly focuses on the Dover trial, Humes also takes us to a similar trial in Kansas, the controversy involving the gift shop at the Grand Canyon, where Creationists have had some success in censoring information about the geological age of the national monument. Most importantly, Humes follows the trail of intellectual and legal deception to the pseudo-scientific think-tank called The Discovery Institute, a group of scientists who exclude any scientific evidence in conflict with Christian Scripture.

The Dover Trial is full of drama and bad debate, A Scopes Monkey Trial for the 21st century, or Inherit the Wind, Redux. Humes shows in the Dover case how Creationism in public schools, having been defeated in courts during the late 20th century under the Separation of Church and State clause of the First Amendment, evolved (pun intended) into the virtually identical Intelligent Design movement, to Dover, Pennsylvania among other places. Some of the most shocking moments of the trial feature the ironic displays of dishonesty which ultimately brought down the school board members who were trying to bring religion into the local biology classrooms. Humes covers the scope of the grand scheme of religious activists, who plan on infusing not only science classes with Christian dogma and bias, but History, Government, and other classes as well.

This very book elicits criticism from those whose definition of “Fair and Balanced” have been warped to Orwellian proportions by Fox News and today’s most hyperbolic propagandists. Humes compassionately portrays how the plaintiffs’ religious beliefs in this case, were attacked and their children mocked at school out of ignorance. The Dover case pitted one kind of Christians against another. Those who favored the separation of Church and State were attacked as “not Christian enough”, in a great example of how the separation of these two functions protects freedom of religion. Another surprising turn of events showed how the presiding judge, a Bush-supporting Republican was branded as a liberal judicial activist for defending the constitution.

While it is clear on which side Humes’ sympathies lie, the reader is necessarily confronted with the heart of the so-called controversy: regarding extreme religious views which by definition do not tolerate any opposing views, what are the limits of tolerance in society? How can a democracy defend pluralism from those whose religious beliefs clash so vehemently with the definition of reality itself by the rest of the world, both secular and religious? The Framers of the Constitution were historically not far away from centuries of religious wars in Europe which constantly threw governments into turmoil. They saw the value of the separation of church and state to both church and state. Back in those days religious persecution meant death or incarceration because of one’s beliefs, not what passes for persecution these days in the minds of some.

One gets the strong impression reading Humes’ insightful analysis, that this latest version of the old Darwin-vs.-God controversy is the product of the removal of Critical Thinking skills from the mainstream public school curriculum, and the lack of a Cold War Era push towards developments in Math & Science, supported by all but the most outspoken of Bible literalists, who constantly attempt to couch the debate as “God vs. Darwin”, when in fact, most religions don’t require people to choose between the two. In my opinion, this is a clear case of the old adage, “Those who ignore history are condemned to repeat it”. Young-Earth Creationists might benefit from not ignoring the history of the Catholic Church’s censorship of Copernicus and Galileo hundreds of years ago, and ask themselves why the Pope doesn’t have a big problem with Darwin’s theories today.

-Philadelphic

Further reading on the Dover Trial: (after the break…)
(more…)

Yes, I Finished Cryptonomicon

Monday, February 9th, 2009

Book Review — Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson
Cryptonomicon

On the surface, Cryptonomicon is a straightforward historical fiction about how the key to winning a war is having better technology than one’s enemy. A deeper look, however, reveals that it is a moral and practical guide for those who are willing and able to fight oppressive regimes by eschewing brute force in favor of cunning.

Sometimes labeled as science fiction, Cryptonomicon is a detailed excerpt from the lives of a handful of men and women spanning two distinct, but related periods of time — World War II and the tech boom of the 1980s. Stephenson tells the tale of the oft-overlooked underground intelligence aspect of war while he creates a parallel of covert modern-day corporate manipulations, and he slowly fills in the blanks of the chronology of the characters who are intricately connected by blood and causality.

Stephenson peppers his lengthy novel with anecdotes that reveal his extensive knowledge of the technology and battles of World War II as well as modern computing and corporate etiquette. The comprehensive detailed technical explanations of cryptography, security, and other technology might distract a casual reader, but should entrance any technophile who is captivated by the amazing amount of knowledge at Stephenson’s fingertips and the way it’s presented by the book’s characters.1

The main character of the novel is Randall “Randy” Lawrence Waterhouse, the 1980s descendant of his covertly influential veteran grandfather. Throughout the novel, Randy embodies an uncommon intellect coupled with a common pursuit — love and happiness. Although Stephenson’s scattered but thorough focus on anecdotes and technical details detracts somewhat from Randy’s potential lovability, after some conversations with the mysterious Enoch Root, Randy gains some enlightenment that may clue the reader into why connecting to one of the overtly selfish characters isn’t easy — it’s all about the bigger picture. Root’s apparent agelessness, as well as the fact that the rest of the characters, including Randy, seem but cogs in a great machine, lends credence to the idea that it takes such individual sacrifice to create a greater good. Arguably the most interesting characters are embodied in Grandfather Lawrence Waterhouse and Goto Dengo, who, in the WWII era, started technological frameworks upon which others relied to further the greater good — winning the war and generally defeating that which is, at least according to Root, evil.

Enoch Root explains to Randy the difference between people who “worship” Ares (the Greek god of war) and people who “worship” Athena (the Greek god of what Root describes as something like cunning). The former are the bellicose oppressors, like the Nazis, and the latter are, like the intelligence agencies of the Allied forces, the technological cunning that is required to overcome the oppressors. Randy’s gradual realization is that he has been tasked with carrying the torch of Athena, along with his fellow associates.

Despite what I’ve heard about Stephenson’s writing style being loquacious and too tangential without having a satisfactory end, Cryptonomicon was entertaining enough to keep me interested and complete enough for me to be satisfied and wanting to read more of Stephenson’s work. Although I interrupted the novel halfway to read the entire Old Man’s War series (plus The Android’s Dream, all of which I highly recommend) by John Scalzi, I easily returned to Cryptonomicon, anxious to see how the characters were faring. I believe that I merely needed a brief hiatus from the thickness.

I recommend Cryptonomicon for anyone who likes covert intelligence ops (especially related to World War II), cryptography, technology, hacking, information technology governance, or just about everyone who reads Boing Boing or the like. Others might get sidetracked, bored, or entirely lost. The next Stephenson book on my list is Snow Crash. I’m currently reading His Dark Materials series.

Notes:

Can atheists “worship” an ideal? In other words, can we hold something other than atheism in such high regard that we essentially praise it, follow it quasi-dogmatically? Enoch Root suggests implicitly that those who blindly worship Ares, or war for war itself, are destructive and need to be stopped, and can only be stopped with cunning, and, again implicitly, by those who either knowingly or by action worship metis (the Greek “cunning”).

Although Cryptonomicon didn’t delve too deeply into religious belief, it sets the tone for a reflection of our current world situation — a few prominent and dogmatic religious organizations currently effectively run the planet. Root’s warning about worshippers of Ares seems to point directly to believers as those who fight to fight, and indicates that the counter is embodied in those who favor Athena (cunning) — the rationalists. Does this mean that even atheists might need to hold something other than nature to a near-divine degree?

  1. Stephenson is an author who likes to use the same characters, or the same named characters (with similar characteristics) in his otherwise unconnected novels, creating a Marvel-like continuity that’s potentially confusing to literalists, but exciting to fans. For instance, a Google search of “Enoch Root,” a major character in Cryptonomicon, indicates that he is a character in both The Baroque Cycle and Cryptonomicon, although the books aren’t sequential in any way, or, as comic enthusiasts would say, aren’t even in the same universe. This sort of character regeneration is not new, especially among science fiction and fantasy authors. Robert A. Heinlein reincarnates Lazarus Long, whether named such or not. Stephen King regurgitates his greasy-haired villain, Randall Flagg, in the Dark Tower series, The Stand, and Eyes of the Dragon. Asimov’s famous Robot Series intersects with his Foundation series late in the novels. [<]

WARNING: You May be Part of an Unholy Alliance!

Thursday, February 5th, 2009

On February 5, President Obama held the traditional (at least since the Great Depression) National Prayer Breakfast in DC to clarify issues about his take on the faith-based initiative, and to laud the benefits of faith. Despite the fact that President Obama created the White House Office of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships made up of both secular and religious components, and despite his suggestion that the separation of church and state is a good thing that needs to be perpetuated, the Prayer Breakfast set an unsurprising, although perhaps subtle, non-rational tone.

For instance,

He said even though a diverse group of faith leaders and lawmakers read different religious texts and follow different traditions, one law unites them all — “the Golden Rule” — the call to love one another; to understand one another; to treat with dignity and respect those with whom we share a brief moment on this Earth.”1

Implying simultaneously that faith is acceptable as a source of guidance, but is not the foundation of morality, which brings into question the purpose of focusing on faith as a benefit rather than merely focusing on benefit. (In other words, why not laud, in general, those people who help others, rather than trying to establish that there’s something inherently good about faith itself?)

More disturbing, and fringing on an attack against non-believers, a guest speaker at the Prayer, former Prime Minister Tony Blair, stated that “The extreme believers and aggressive nonbelievers come together in an unholy alliance.” Funny, I don’t recall, by the nature of my aggressive nonbelief joining up with suicide bombers and bible-thumping clinic bombers. Non-belief is non-belief. It’s the lack of something, whereas belief is the addition of something, and extreme belief is the extreme addition of something. How can one have an extreme absence of something? It’s like trying to multiply by zero.

But, am I even remotely satisfied that Obama has taken Bush’s outlandish and non-working faith-based extremism and molded it, through compromise, into something that somehow includes non-believers with an overall goal of improving the lives of others? No. I can’t say that I am satisfied at all. I think every moment that Obama takes to focus on faith itself as a benefit is a moment that he tramples upon his own assertion that there exists and should be maintained a separation of church and state. Obama even recognizes that not all faith-based actions are beneficial, and excludes the extremists and the self-righteous, but he still can’t bring himself to the logical conclusion that if instead of focusing on “faith” as a factor, we focused on actual benefit as a factor, we could accomplish the same goals without risking establishment and without isolating those who would bring benefit to others without unsupported belief in the supernatural. Is this just another political maneuver to keep the religious groups from rioting, or is this Obama continuing to show his religious favoritism?

Regardless, President Obama isolates religion from scriptural fact when he says that “No matter what we choose to believe, let us remember that there is no religion whose central tenet is hate…. There is no God who condones taking the life of an innocent human being. This much we know.” He might actually be correct with regard to religion, but he’s certainly way off the mark with regard to God, depending on which god is the subject, and depending on one’s definition of “innocent.” Did Obama skip his bible lesson where the God of the Old Testament laid waste to millions of people, or does Obama consider them all to have been guilty in the eyes of the Lord, and thus not innocent? Either answer indicates that Obama is either fabricating a reality that doesn’t match what the good books say, or he truly believes that God’s word is the higher law. If the former, should we worry about his ability to read and comprehend? If the latter, is he not advocating the combination of church and state while alleging that he supports separation? Remember, he thinks having faith in such a deity is a good thing.

By the way, there will be an Unholy Alliance meeting at the Elk’s Lodge on Main Street this Sunday. Coffee, donuts, and pitchforks will be served.


Carnival of the Godless #110 at The Greenbelt

Carnival of the Godless entry at The Greenbelt

State of Unholy Protest

  1. Washington Times [<]