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Category: atheism (page 13 of 17)

God, Milk

We’re a day late on the Oscars thing in Australia, so I’m only just getting to the videos.

I was moved by the acceptance speech of Lance Black, who won Best Screenplay for Milk. He grew up in the Mormon church.

Here’s a transcript of the relevant bit, for those of you who can’t do video.

“I heard the story of Harvey Milk and it gave me hope. It gave me the hope to live my life openly as who I am, and that one day I could even fall in love and get married.

“I want to thank my mom, who has always loved me for who I am even when there was pressure not to.

“But most of all, if Harvey had not been taken from us 30 years ago, I think he would want me to say to all of the gay and lesbian kids out there tonight who have been told that they are less than by their churches or by the government or by their families, that you are beautiful, wonderful creatures of value, and that no matter what anyone tells you God does love you and that very soon I promise you, you will have equal rights federally across this great nation of ours.

Thank you and thank you God for giving us Harvey Milk.”

I grew up as a straight kid in the Mormon church, and they gave us heaps of guilt just over playing with ourselves. I simply can’t imagine what he must have gone through as a gay teenager.

Black’s comments are laudable. If they make some gay person feel like they’re all right despite the attempts of religious bigots to convince them otherwise, then well done. Suicide averted. But there’s a bigger problem here: Black is trying to mitigate the effects of religions without challenging their authority. By taking god as a given, Black unwittingly gives tacit legitimacy to religions as potential sources of moral guidance. In fact, they have no more moral authority than anyone else, and most likely less because of their immoral actions.

It comes down to the whole God thing. Black somehow knows that this mysterious being ‘god’ loves gay people. How does he know that? Is it possible that god really disapproves of them, or perhaps even hates them? How does he know that God ‘gave’ us Harvey Milk? If Satan exists, why didn’t he give us Harvey Milk as a way of deceiving us and making us into homos? Does Black have some magical conduit to heavenly knowledge? If it’s possible to get revelations from a god, how do we know Black has the right idea, and not those nice men in suits that we see in General Conference?

I was re-reading this article again, an interview with Carol Lynn Pearson. She’s a Mormon poet, playwright, and actor. With her one-woman show, Mother Wove the Morning, she’s worked to bring Mother-in-Heaven out of the periphery of LDS doctrine. She’s also an advocate for gay Mormons.

It’s the question Carol Lynn Pearson hears just about every time she appears in public. She heard it again last weekend, during an audience discussion that followed a packed-house performance of her play “Facing East” at Theatre Rhinoceros.

How, one woman asked, could Pearson justify her own membership and involvement in the Mormon church?

Pearson, a slim, forthright woman of 67 who wears her silvery white hair jauntily short, nodded along as the question was posed. “I love the Mormon community,” she responded, “and I have a unique opportunity to build bridges.” A number of her church ward leaders, Pearson noted, had attended the opening of “Facing East” the night before. “They’ve been nothing but supportive,” she said. “I believe the Mormon heart is a good heart. I feel comfortable with my role in the Mormon church.

That was before the LDS Church’s involvement in Proposition 8. I wonder if she still feels ‘comfortable’ being linked with a church that claims divine support for inequality and prejudice. Yes, she seems to do some good, but does she need to do this from inside the organisation? Is she not, in fact, attempting to help those who suffer, while providing a way for them to remain connected to the church that is dishing out the suffering?

There are two approaches you can take in this kind of conflict: reject religion, or attempt to transform religion into something less authoritarian.

The transformative approach is tempting, especially for religious liberals. You get to stay in The Bubble, where it’s comfortable (even though you take some knocks from the orthodox believers), and you get to imagine that someday… some beautiful day… your religion will change from conservative authoritarian to liberal democratic — perhaps even gay-friendly! And you can play a part in this magical process just by making occasional comments in Priesthood Meeting. And then the Millennium comes, and Jesus tells you that you were right all along, and everybody gets a pony.

Needless to say, I think the other approach — to reject religion — is the right one. We need to recognise that there probably isn’t a god, that religious organisations have no special authority to dictate the terms of morality, and that actions like Prop. 8 are signs of their all-too-human origins. This view has the benefit of being true.

I have this disturbing thought that keeps popping up: What if things had gone differently for me, my deconversion somehow hadn’t happened, and I was a believing Mormon in the middle of this Proposition 8 mess? Would it have been a deal-breaker for me? Would I have had the fortitude to recognise the signs of man-made prejudice? Would I have realised that it was time to get out? Or would I have kept making excuses for the Church, like some abused spouse? Would I have imagined things would change… eventually? (We let Blacks have the priesthood, after all! Well, black men.) Would I have fallen back on my old rationalisations: that the Lord is in control, but he allows his servants to make mistakes? Would I have privately disagreed with the Brethren, and fancied myself courageous for doing so?

I worry that, even confronted by an ugliness of this magnitude, I would have remained a liberal Mormon. Dependence on others for your opinion conditions you to be a coward, and I was very well-conditioned. And so I probably would have continued to give my time and my money to an organisation that was actively working against my values, and cared nothing for (in fact, actually disdained) the views of people like myself.

Now, outside the Church, I am free to speak out against injustice and duplicity without having to step carefully around ‘criticising the Brethren’. I get to live a moral, fulfilling life, without the moral conflict of trying to hold two opposing sets of opinions simultaneously.

The LDS Church will carry out actions like Prop. 8 whenever they wish, whether you are a member or not. But if they count you as a member, they do these things with your support. Something to think about.

Bus ads, round two

The main charges people made against the London atheist bus ad was:

1) It made claims that broke rules of substantiation and truthfulness, since the ad offered no evidence for god’s non-existence.

2) The ad was offensive.

I find both complaints questionable. The inclusion of ‘probably’ helps to tone down the claim, and as for offense, I found the ad quite positive in tone. Maybe people found it offensive that anyone would express a belief they disagreed in.

What are we to make, however, of the next round of bus ads from the believers?

The first one libels a group of people, and the second has factual problems! Both are far guiltier of the charges than the original ad itself.

If they’re so sure that there’s ‘definitely’ a god, let’s see their evidence. They don’t know their bible either; calling someone a fool puts you in danger of hellfire. Name-calling is name-calling, even if it’s biblical.

I can’t say I mind the Christian ads though. A vigorous debate is always healthy, and these ads will probably just make people think of the original.

The Problem of Evil and the Tale of the Twelve Officers

The Problem of Evil was never a problem for me in my believing days. I always thought it was a pretty weak argument. So bad things happen to good people. It’s too bad, but why should god come running in to save us from every bad thing that might happen? How would we have free will if we couldn’t suffer the consequences of our actions? Don’t murderers have free will too? How would we have good if we didn’t have evil? And god’s intervention would ironically prove he existed, so how would we have faith in him? Besides, life isn’t so very long when we compare it to an eternity in god’s presence. It was all a case of putting unrealistic expectations on god, who after all probably had good reasons to allow kittens to drown, children to be abused, neglected, and murdered, bombs to fall, hurricanes to destroy, viruses to kill and maim, and all the other wonderful things that work towards god’s greater glory.

And so I would walk away from the Problem of Evil, dusting off my hands and whistling, thinking the matter settled. Well done, me. What I see now was that I accepted those answers not because they were all that great, but because they allowed me to put my cognitive dissonance back to sleep so I could stay in The Bubble and keep believing for yet another week.

Of course, the temptation to accept bad ideas because you like them still holds whether you’re a theist or an atheist. So I’ve been wary of throwing myself into the PoE because, until recently, I still thought it was a weak argument. This document changed my mind: The Tale of the Twelve Officers, by Mark I. Vuletic.

It was, of course, sad to hear that Ms. K had been slowly raped and murdered by a common thug over the course of one hour and fifty-five minutes; but when I found out that the ordeal had taken place in plain sight of twelve fully-armed off-duty police officers, who ignored her terrified cries for help, and instead just watched until the act was carried to its gruesome end, I found myself facing a personal crisis. You see, the officers had all been very close friends of mine, but now I found my trust in them shaken to its core. Fortunately, I was able to talk with them afterwards, and ask them how they could have stood by and done nothing when they could so easily have saved Ms. K.

Each officer has a rationalisation for their failure to act, and what do you know — all my old friends are here! Wonderful ways to explain why an all-good and omniscient god would fail to do what any normal, compassionate, sinful human being would do in the same situation.

How do their answers sit with you, whether theist or non?

Atheist bus font

Last week was taken up by a happy event: Ms Perfect and I moved into our new home. That meant getting all the furniture in, tracking down the right hedge trimmer (so as not to obscure the white picket fence), and getting the utilities hooked up. Now the Internet Drought is over, and I’m back online.

We here at Good Reason like to keep up with everything typographical, so when we found the Atheist Bus typeface, it was too good not to share. Here it is: Dirty Headline, the very same font used on atheist buses in England (and atheist t-shirts elsewhere), downloadable for free thanks to dafont.com.

Making your own atheist slogans is now a simple matter. Maybe you like the current one, but you think it lacks a little punch. Why not try pumping up the volume?

Now that’s a spicy meatball.

Italian atheist buses are slightly more edgy

Italian atheists are launching their own bus ads.

Translation: “The bad news is that God doesn’t exist. The good news is that you don’t need him.”

Nice. But is it bad news that there’s no god? At least you don’t have to spend eternity worshipping someone who created you for that purpose.

Dang it, I’m envious! Australian bus ads have been blocked, so everybody else is getting all the fun.

UPDATE: Kibosh-ëd! Oh the infamy…

Thought for the Afternoon from Ariane Sherine

Via Snowqueen: A very nice Thought for the Afternoon from atheist bus organiser Ariane Sherine. The Thoughts are usually religious, but non-believers are sometimes asked to speak. This clip aired on BBC Radio last week. I’ve captured it and placed it here because the broadcasts disappear from the site after a while.

If you can’t get the recording to work, I’ll summarise it for you: We all have a lot in common, even though we come from different backgrounds and have different beliefs. As for us atheists, we believe in enjoying things, taking care of our children, and living happy and safe lives. Could you muckheads please not spoil it for the rest of us by arguing over your beliefs, even though you like them? kthxbai

All right, she’s a lot more positive than I would be. Note to the BBC: Never ask me to give the Thought for the Afternoon.

Like the bus ad? Get the shirt.

The atheist buses are out!

An atheist advertising campaign has been launched on buses across Britain.

A fund-raising drive for the promotion, carrying the slogan “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life”, raised more than £140,000.

The campaign, which will also feature on the Tube, is backed by the British Humanist Association and prominent atheist, Professor Richard Dawkins.

And there’s a t-shirt to match. Perth will soon see me rocking the “Probably No God” t-shirt,


but I don’t think I’ll carry it off as well as Ariane Sherine.

Interestingly, the C of E felt a desire to comment.

The Church of England said Christian faith allowed people to put their life into a “proper perspective”.

A spokesman said: “We would defend the right of any group representing a religious or philosophical position to be able to promote that view through appropriate channels.

“However, Christian belief is not about worrying or not enjoying life.”

Well, I can tell you that spending Sunday mornings lounging about with Ms Perfect is much more conducive to enjoying life than spending 3 hours in church hearing stuff like this:

2:25 And now I ask, can ye say aught of yourselves? I answer you, Nay. Ye cannot say that ye are even as much as the dust of the earth…

2:33 For behold, there is a wo pronounced upon him who listeth to obey that [evil] spirit; for if he listeth to obey him, and remaineth and dieth in his sins, the same drinketh damnation to his own soul; for he receiveth for his wages an everlasting punishment, having transgressed the law of God contrary to his own knowledge.

or

12:17 Then is the time when their torments shall be as a lake of fire and brimstone, whose flame ascendeth up forever and ever; and then is the time that they shall be chained down to an everlasting destruction, according to the power and captivity of Satan, he having subjected them according to his will.

If this were true, wouldn’t the idea of getting tormented for eternity cause you some worry? Wouldn’t it mitigate your enjoyment of life just a tad if you were occasionally told that you were worse than dirt?

Time to spread the Good News, which is that the punishment forewarned by religions is most likely fictional. You are free. Now enjoy your life.

Quick links

Blind people use facial expressions in the same way as sighted people do, including those strained smiles you use when you’re not really happy. This provides more evidence that facial expressions are innate and not learned.

Where do you think love comes from, Mr Atheist? Can’t see love in your microscope, can you? Actually, you can, if you’re doing brain scans. And what they find is that some people still feel twittery about each other after 20 years, instead of the 18 months most of us get. They call these couples ‘swans’, but that’s not a good name. Swans are cranky critters. But I think Ms Perfect and I will still be swanning about, still coursing with dopamine in each other’s presence, even after 20 blissful years.

Fear the hammer of Thor! A man dressed as the God of War after a costume party frightened off a burglar. Maybe the burglar was a philosophical theist who realised that you can’t discriminate between two supernatural claims — it doesn’t matter whether the god is Christian or Norse, you’d better book. Personally, I’d be much more frightened of Thor than of Jesus. People in sandals are easier to outrun. On the other hand, if Jesus has come as that psychopathic Old Testament god, then all bets are off. Best to run first and ask theological questions later.

Official atheism? Not hardly.

Michael Newdow is trying to get “so help me God” out of the Presidential swearing-in ceremony. Do I think it will succeed? No. Do I think it’s kind of annoying and crazy? Yes. But I’m happy to see him try. He’s doing the work for us, pushing the Overton Window, and making all us other atheists look nice and sensible. Good on him. The state shouldn’t be taking sides — promoting either religion or atheism — in this debate, and references to a god counts as ‘taking sides’.

But there’s a bit of confusion about what promoting atheism looks like. The confusion is coming from the Peter Sprig, of the Family Research Council. Given the source, I have to assume that this is manufactured confusion, which we also call ‘dishonesty’. Anyhow, here’s part of a back-and-forth, starting with Dan Barker, one of the plaintiffs and co-president of the Freedom from Religion Foundation.

And we’re also challenging Chief Justice Roberts for overstepping his authority in inserting the phrase, “So help me God” into the presidential oath which is in the Constitution. That is un-American. It is unfair. It marginalizes. It makes those of us good Americans who don’t believe in God second-class citizens. It’s unfair.

Good so far. Now the other side from Sprig.

But ironically, if a lawsuit like this were to succeed, we would be in effect establishing atheism as the national religion by barring any mention of God or any allusion to religion in any public ceremony.

No, this is wrong. And it’s not just because atheism is not a religion.

I hear this all the time from Christians, who say, “They’re trying to make our [ schools | government | restaurants ] atheistic by removing all references to God.” The problem here is that having no particular mention of religion or god does not constitute de facto atheism. It’s just a normal, default position.

Let me show you what ‘promoting atheism’ looks like. If Mr Obama were to invite me to give a speech at his inauguration in which I would explain to everyone why there’s probably no god, talk about the damage that religion can do on a societal and personal level, and encourage everyone to leave their religions — then that would be promoting atheism. If, on the other hand, Mr Obama invites some religious loon to give a speech exhorting some god to favour the nation with blessings (oh, wait, that did happen), then that would be promoting religion. Either one would be taking sides, and would be inappropriate.

Having neither of us give a speech or a prayer would not be promoting religion or atheism. It would just be normal.

I present this as a public service to my over-anxious religious readers. Now you know what ‘promotion of atheism’ looks like, so you can recognise it in case you ever see it for once in your life.

UPDATE: Noticed this article, in which Barker says it better than I:

Asked if prayer is excluded, wouldn’t that mean government is choosing atheists as the winner, Barker replied, “There is a difference between neutrality and hostility.

“If the government were to invite me as a national atheist leader to get up and give an invocation that curses the name of God and that encourages people to stop believing and stop being so childish and divisive then that would be wrong because the government would be taking a pro-atheist position,” he said.

Meeting one of my converts

I was an LDS missionary in the late 80s, spending two years of my life to promote superstition, magical thinking, and (worst of all) faith. The whole thing embarrasses me acutely now. I sometimes try and excuse myself; I was under the influence of well-meaning family and friends, born into a religious system that valued its own perpetuation. However, I’m pleased to say that out of all the people I taught and baptised, none is active.

Except one family. I remember them especially because of the numerous discussions we had. As a missionary, I always felt a bit paternal toward people I taught. I tried to explain things to them, convince them of church doctrine, and persuade them to accept, one by one, an ever-increasing cycle of commitments. The trick of this, I realise now, was that, once the investigator is more and more heavily invested in the Mormon Church with time, effort, and money, the more the sunk cost fallacy takes over and the harder it is for investigators to extricate themselves. You don’t believe in the Church? Then why are you doing all these things? And if they don’t get out, on the cycle goes.

I’d seen this family around church over the years, but just the other day I ran into the mom at the shopping centre. We chatted, and she asked how I was going with church. So I explained that I was no longer a member, and that I didn’t do religion anymore.

Some people have taken this with some equanimity, but not her. She was shaken. “Why not?” she asked.

Ordinarily, I’d tell someone the usual: I’d thought the whole thing was true, but eventually I realised the evidence for God wasn’t there; that science does a much better job of getting at reality; that if you have faith in something it makes you less able to think critically about it, et cetera, et cetera. But I realised that I couldn’t give my usual spiel in this situation. The roles we’d played for each other were too different. See, her main memory of me was the guy who sat in her house representing the LDS Church, convincing her to spend hours of her life in the service of this group. Now I was bailing, and she was still there. And something in her tone suggested to me that she was not too happy about that. Some people really seem to enjoy being Mormons; somehow she gave the opposite impression. But how would she ever pull the ejector seat? Could I now be the anti-missionary, or would that make me seem completely evil? The whole Mormon image-conscious bullshit thing was doing a number on my head once again.

A funny thing: I didn’t sugar-coat the facts about the Church being wrong, but I didn’t argue tooth and nail either. I wonder why I held back. Maybe I’m sick of being The Evangelist. Evangelism’s for fools. And she hadn’t asked for me to change her religion that day, just as she hadn’t asked me to change it all those years ago. Had I interfered enough? On the other hand, I cared about this person as we argued about religion there in the shopping centre. I regretted the monstrous waste of her time that I was directly responsible for. If I could start her on a process of fact-hunting, maybe she could eventually get free of an organisation that she didn’t enjoy promulgating. Or would that just put her at loggerheads with her Mormon (and in some cases RM) family? Was I proffering freedom, or conflict? What do you do?

What I did was this: I told her about my experience of leaving the LDS Church, and how worthwhile it’s been. I gave my reasons plainly. And when she tried turning the tables and invited me to a church activity, I did what she should have done all those years ago: I politely declined.

There was one thing I didn’t say that I wish I had. All those years ago, when she looked up to me as a spiritual example, it was because I said what I believed, and told the truth insofar as I knew it. And that’s what I’m still doing now. There was no reason for her to think less of me, or me of myself. Quite the contrary.

But ever since that chance meeting in the shopping centre, I have had this inescapable impression: that out of all the rotten, evil, terrible actions in my life (not that there are all that many), serving a mission for the Mormon Church was by far the worst thing I have ever done. Not only did I waste part of my life in furthering ignorance, I wasted other people’s lives too.

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