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Category: atheism (page 6 of 17)

Why I am not a good Christian

Ricky Gervais has written his follow-up to his “Why I’m an Atheist” article, and it’s called

Why I’m a good Christian.

The title of this one is a little misleading, or at least cryptic. I am of course not a good Christian in the sense that I believe that Jesus was half man, half God, but I do believe I am a good Christian compared to a lot of Christians.

It’s not that I don’t believe that the teachings of Jesus wouldn’t make this a better world if they were followed. It’s just that they are rarely followed.

Gandhi summed it up really. He said, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

I have always felt this way, even when I believed in God, and in a weird way I feel I am still a pretty good “Christian” who doesn’t believe in God.

I doubt my behaviour differs greatly from people who call themselves Christian, except for all that babbling to imaginary people. I think I’m a pretty solid person who tries to do good things, help others, and so forth, like most everyone else.

And since this behaviour is common to Christians and non-, why call it ‘Christian’? Why not call it ‘human’? Christians aren’t getting their morality from the Bible, with its approval of slavery, misogyny, and child abuse — they’re good because of their innate moral sense, just like everyone else. Humans, as social beings, needed to evolve a sense of ‘morality’, involving social reciprocity, empathy, and fairness. Only after that had been in place for tens of thousands of years did religions then co-opt it for their own ends.

So I think Ricky Gervais is giving Jesus — and Christianity — too much credit.

Jesus was a man. (And if you forget all that rubbish about being half God, and believe the non-supernatural acts accredited to him, he was a man whose wise words many other men would still follow.) His message was usually one of forgiveness and kindness.

Well, usually, except that bit about being tortured in hell forever. With real fire. Jesus said this kind of thing not just once, but over and over. Not even the Old Testament threatened the dead with eternal torture. That doesn’t come across as very compassionate to me, so I guess I wouldn’t be a very good Christian.

Jesus also taught that his system had to come first, even ahead of your own family. If there was a conflict, you were to hate your mother and your father. Imagine how much ostracism that’s caused. I wouldn’t demand that of my followers. That’s the kind of thing a cult leader would do.

I’m not racist enough to be a Christian, either. One time, a Canaanite woman asked Jesus to heal her son from demons, and he called her a dog. (He later relented, but never apologised.) He seemed to be okay with women generally, but not that time. Tone it down, dude.

He even cursed a fig tree for not bearing fruit. And figs weren’t even in season! I don’t care for figs that much, so I probably wouldn’t get that worked up over it. Fig newtons are quite nice. If I had the power like Jesus was supposed to have, I’d make the tree bear fig newtons, but I wouldn’t curse it. How are you going to get any figs that way? Geez.

So I guess I’d be a terrible Christian, unless I were cherry-picking all the nice things Jesus said. But if you’re going to select things that already agree with your moral sense, why not skip Jesus and use your moral sense from the beginning? For most people, that’s better than Jesus to start with.

I guess I should cut Jesus some slack. Maybe if he existed, he was an okay guy, and people just made up all those stories about him. But the way it’s written in the Bible, Jesus was a jerk. Good Christian? Christians are good in spite of their Jesus, not because.

O-Day Hijinx: Part 4 – Faith or death

When I was trolling teh Mormonz, one of them said something terribly sad and abhorrent.

This is what I really hate about religion. These guys have been carefully taught that their life is meaningless if they lose their faith. They now believe that their own reason for living isn’t good enough, and they’ve replaced it with the Church’s reason for living. This is sick dependency — it’s not the way to build self-reliance. Do not let this happen to you.

It also doesn’t seem to help you to think your way through an argument.

O-Day Hijinx: Part 3

O-Day Hijinx: Part 2 – Stealth Christians!

Sometimes people don’t start out all witnessy, but sneak up to it gradually instead. They always reveal their true colours sooner or later, though.

Another data point for the Salem Hypothesis.

UWA O-Day hijinx with the AAS

UWA O(rientation)-Day is tomorrow, and I’ll be out there handing out info for the UWA Atheist and Agnostic Society. Come along if you want to meet up with me, have a chat, and perhaps join up, if you’re a university-type person.

Last year, we enjoyed the inexplicable presence of Mormon missionaries. They would try unconvincingly to plug their faith, and I’d point out their logical flaws and utter lack of evidence. Then they’d go away, a new batch would come, and the festivities would start again!

If you’re not sure where to find us, just position yourself somewhere near the coast and then follow the booming music.

Oh, and here’s something that happened last year, when I ran into a old friend from church. Maybe I should have broken it to her more gently.

One of these things

The Ottawa Citizen asks some religious folk: What should we tell our children about people who don’t believe in God?

Most of the responses are okay.

A Rabbi:

They can, and should be strong in their faith, strong in welcoming diverse faith affirmations, and welcoming to all people. That is a great message to tell.

Much the same from a Catholic priest:

Of course, tolerance, respectful investigation and openness to dialogue applies to peoples of all faiths and those who have no faith. True toleration means holding our own beliefs with conviction while acknowledging different beliefs with respect.

What is it that’s bugging me about the word ‘tolerance’ here? Wait, it’s a Buddhist to explain:

We should here contrast an appreciation of diversity and mere tolerance. Tolerance is usually a bland and biased acknowledgment extended from a presumed position of superiority and truth.

Nice.

Hinduism: What’s the problem?

Hinduism has never been uncomfortable with atheism and one may be a declared atheist, like the late prime minister Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, and yet remain Hindu.

There’s even a humanist:

Despite the differences of what we think is above and beyond, the human web is sewn with the same thread — the needs of love, compassion, security and respect. Regardless of what some people are told to believe, atheists are an important part of this social fabric. We challenge others, and ourselves, to look outside the box. We empower people to self-reason, making choices based on their own path of truth and understanding.

Very nice. Wait, he’s still going.

As darkness casts its shadow across our life journey, we remain connected — trapped within the human condition, embracing what we love and have loved, appreciating with some regrets our life well lived, alone with our fears of the eternal abyss, facing them with the finite knowledge we possess.

Geez, that was kind of bleak. Couldn’t you have been a bit more upbeat? Or get an editor?

But at least it was better than the Muslim response, which I found extremely odd:

The best way to talk to our children on this subject is not just by words but, more important, through our own behaviour. I would rather talk “about God” and His benevolence and His many gifts rather than about people who do not believe in Him.

In other words, we affirm our own belief in God through positive activity. This would obviate the need to talk in negative terms “about people who don’t believe God.”

In other words, don’t talk about atheists at all. Just talk more about Allah so the atheism doesn’t distract them.

The cost of religious faith: Relationships

This rant from Matt Dillahunty is getting a lot of exposure this week, and justly so. He hits on a lot of great points, and I only wish I could say so much in one coherent stream. I had to hit ‘pause’ several times and let things sink in. It’s that good.

It’s all worth watching, but I’ve highlighted this part near the end. Jeff and Matt talk about the cost that Christianity (in particular) imposes on non-believers and ex-believers in the form of broken relationships.

Jeff: But there is, this is my personal hobby horse today; there is a cost in deciding that you’re going to take (in particular) Christianity on faith and that is that when you run into folks like us who don’t believe it, you are compelled because you’ve decided to believe in Christianity; you are compelled to think all kinds of horrific things about us. And tell us, or come at us with these threats of eternal torment which just draws an insurmountable line between us. And we cannot be friends because of what you have decided to take on faith. That’s the cost.

Matt: Yeah and I’ll tell you, that divisive cost plays out not only in the previous caller who had to give up his job because of “good intentioned Christians”, but I have a fiancée sitting in the room who is essentially estranged from a good portion of her family who consider me to be the devil. Now, I may not be a perfect person, far from it, but I’m generally a good person and a caring person, and I do the best I can to live the best life I can.

I certainly am not – well, I guess if I was the devil, this is exactly what he would say, so who knows? – but the absurdity of the divisive nature of Christianity in particular (and by the way, I am an atheist in regard to all gods, but since you’re kind of representing Christianity), it breaks my heart. People who actually understand what love is; people who actually understand what morality is; people who actually understand reality; it is almost unbearable to watch the people that you love be so absolutely duped into a divisive, hateful religion that they think is not divisive; they think it’s inclusive, and they think it’s positive.

It kills me, and it’s one of the reasons that I do this. Because I, for 25+ years, believed this stuff. I am so happy – so happy – that I no longer think that my former roommate is destined for hell. I am so happy that despite the fact that my relationship with my parents, the nature of it is changed, I don’t have to worry about them. The division is entirely one-sided. I didn’t end relationships when I became an atheist. Christians ended those relationships, and it was because their particular religion cannot tolerate – I have letters from people who said ‘We can no longer associate with you. You are of the devil.’

This is true for me, too, and I think it’s true for anyone who’s deconverted. The ostracism, the disownings, the mysterious unfriendings — we’ve all paid a cost in the form of broken relationships, and it’s not us that is doing the breaking. It’s not us that can’t tolerate other points of view. It’s the folks in the fragile bubble. Bubbles don’t last long without complete and unconditional unanimity, and we just don’t offer it, nor should we.

I’m still on good terms with many of my family, but certain other members have told me that by (for example) having this blog and writing against religion and Mormonism as I do, there would be “consequences” to our relationships. And I don’t hear from them now. Other ‘best friends’ from my younger and more churchy years have disappeared or rejected me entirely.

It’s a cost I’m prepared to pay, by the way. The loss of friends and family members is insignificant when compared to what I gain — the ability to tell the truth. (I realise that makes me sound like them, but I’m not the one making it an either/or issue.)

I don’t always say everything I think; I’m pretty good about choosing when and where to put my opinion in, and it’s just about always right here or elsewhere on the net. But even that’s apparently too much for them — I shouldn’t be saying or writing anything. The way they phrase it, I’m attacking them. I’m not; I’m attacking a religion, and if they think I’m attacking them, then that tells me that they’ve mistaken their own identity and their own goals for those of the religion. (A distinction that the religion is not keen to draw, for obvious reasons.)

I’m putting this out there because I seem to be running into a lot of people lately who think that religion is somehow this benign thing that doesn’t harm anyone. “What’s wrong with people having faith in their religion?” they say. “It gives people hope and a sense of community.” Blah blah blah. It’s not benign. It’s poisonous, and it ruins relationships. Ask any deconvert about the treatment they’ve had at the hands of believers who couldn’t let the presence of an unbelieving friend or family member sully their fantasy world.

What atheism means to me

Reverberations are still being felt from PZ’s blog post last week. He complained about “dictionary atheists” who were overly specific about the definition of atheism. Singled out for his annoyance was something I’ve said many times:

Atheism is not a belief. It is a lack of belief.

Or when I’m feeling like breaking out the first order predicate calculus:

Atheism is not a “belief” in “no gods”. It’s “no belief” in “gods”. As such, atheism doesn’t make any claims. It’s a reaction to the claims of theists.

And so on.

As if in response, PZ says:

Dictionary Atheists. Boy, I really do hate these guys. You’ve got a discussion going, talking about why you’re an atheist, or what atheism should mean to the community, or some such topic that is dealing with our ideas and society, and some smug wanker comes along and announces that “Atheism means you lack a belief in gods. Nothing more. Quit trying to add meaning to the term.” As if atheism can only be some platonic ideal floating in virtual space with no connections to anything else; as if atheists are people who have attained a zen-like ideal, their minds a void, containing nothing but atheism, which itself is nothing. Dumbasses.

But but but!

I worried that PZ was getting away from good reasoning. The dictionary definition of atheism is very useful, if only for rhetorical purposes. Not advancing a claim means you don’t have to provide evidence, which is very handy for me. And in the case of gods, the burden of evidence really does belong to their claimants. Which puts the atheist on safe ground.

True, sometimes I do find myself speaking of “atheism qua movement” as being more than just lack of belief. For me, becoming an atheist and rejecting gods and supernaturalism — provisionally, of course — has been the gateway to a new way of thinking that has made my life better.

But how did a non-position do that? Since atheism is not of itself a philosophy or set of principles or anything like that, what kind of positive value does it impart? How can it help humanity or advance human knowledge, or really, do anything if it doesn’t of itself put forth any claims or do any of the things a philosophy usually does?

Let me use my subjective experience to untangle this.

My deconversion only became possible because I decided that I cared what was true more than I cared for my religion of origin. In the years leading to my deconversion, I learned more about how to think critically, and how to be skeptical about claims. Though my religion taught that I was to discount reason — sorry, “man’s reason” — I decided that it was better than the selective and convenient reasoning that people at church engaged in. And I learned more about the scientific method. Once those were in place, it was just a matter of time before I saw the claims of religion for what they were.

What I’m saying is that atheism didn’t get me to atheism — these other things did. Atheism was the result.

Which puts me where PZ already is: Atheism is not a philosophy — it’s a conclusion.

In that Montreal talk, I explained that there is more to my atheism than simple denial of one claim; it’s actually based on a scientific attitude that values evidence and reason, that rejects claims resting solely on authority, and that encourages deeper exploration of the world. My atheism is not solely a negative claim about gods, but is based on a whole set of positive values that I will emphasize when talking about atheism. That denial of god thing? It’s a consequence, not a cause.

What got me to that consequence — and what I’ve worked into my life since — are a number of positive -isms.

  • Secularism — I think people shouldn’t be allowed to use their god-belief as a way of controlling the behaviour of others, particularly children and those who don’t believe in the religion. A secular society means that everyone’s religion gets treated the same. That’s fair.
  • Rationalism — Having a commitment to using reason as a guide.
  • Skepticism — Being critical of claims. Asking for evidence. Asking “How do you know?”
  • Humanism — I’ve held off on calling myself a humanist so far, but if someone mistook me for one, I wouldn’t mind. I think it has much to recommend itself. The humanist slogan “Good Without God” is one that stirs this godless heart.
  • And of course, the scientific method — using publicly available observation and evidence confirmed by multiple sources to separate fact from fantasy.

These positive values are bound up in my atheism, and that of others whose stories I’ve read. So is it right to say that atheism is separate from these values? Well, they’re not all the same thing. Not every skeptic is an atheist. And atheists are not necessarily rationalists. So while these -isms are not synonymous with atheism (unfortunately), they do tend to cluster around atheism, to the extent that they get associated with atheism, even though they are not atheism themselves.

I think people use “atheism” as a kind of shorthand for these other positive values. Our minds work like that. We make little logical leaps all the time without noticing. So if I speak of atheism as a positive value, I hope you’ll understand what I’m doing. I’m leaving behind a strict dictionary defition of atheism, and using it as a way of talking about all the positive things.

So I get what PZ is on about. Hang the dictionary definition of atheism! Enough of arguing with the careful tweezers! These tools are our spaceship, and atheism is the rocket fuel!

Well, it’s not really rocket fuel, but I hope you know what I mean.

Can you prove that a god doesn’t exist?

Hellmut’s recent comment on ontology was so good that I think it deserved a new post. We have a distinct lack of evidence that dogs can’t fly. But can we prove it? Hellmut explains:

Actually, you can’t prove that dogs can’t fly. Somewhere in the space-time continuum, there might be a dog that can fly.

The precedence for that insight was Francis Bacon’s famous statement about white swans. Since every swan anyone had ever seen had been white, Bacon concluded that all swans are white.

Then we discovered black swans in Australia.

Logically, we cannot prove universal statements, i.e. claims about anything that is supposed to always be true.

Likewise, we cannot disprove existential statements because somewhere, sometime beyond the current reach of our senses, there might be a purple cat with five eyes and seven legs.

It’s the old adage: You can’t prove a negative. And in fact, I wouldn’t try. I’m an atheist because I find the claims of theism lacking in evidence, not because I’ve proven the non-existence of a god.

But this is only partly true. Some negatives can be proven. I can say for certain that there are no square circles. I can also say that there are no married bachelors. (Not unless we redefine those words beyond conventional recognition.) The existence of these things would entail a contradiction in terms, and that’s not allowed.

What about a god? Well, the concept of god is defined so poorly that I can’t be sure that there isn’t one lurking around in this big universe of ours. But I can be quite sure that the Christian god does not exist. According to the claims of its believers, such a being would entail some logical contradictions:

  • He would be all-loving, yet condemn people to suffer eternal punishment.
  • He would know the future before we do it, yet allow free will.
  • He would be able to do anything, and yet not. (Ever hear the one about god making a stone so big that he can’t lift it? Oh, you have.)
  • He’d be all-good, yet allow unspeakable evil to occur.
  • Wouldn’t being all-good and all-powerful make him powerless to do evil things?
  • I suppose that’s not a problem for the biblical god, who does evil things all the time, but then that raises omnibenevolence issues.
  • And he would be perfect, yet somehow need to be worshipped.

There’s nothing new about these contradictions, and people have tried to resolve them with varying degrees of success for a long time. Yet they persist.

It’s all very easy for me as a ‘weak atheist‘ to sit back and demand evidence, especially when believers refuse to provide it. Having done that for a while, I’m now feeling an urge to assail the problem on its own turf and make some claims of my own. Consider this, then, a tentative exploration of the boundary between weak and strong atheism, and a possible avenue for the disproof of a particular deity, even if it’s not a blanket denial of all possible gods in the universe.

Required viewing:

Australia 2011 Census: Mark “No Religion”

A follow-up to the UK census post: the Atheist Foundation of Australia has launched the “Mark ‘No Religion’” campaign.

The AFA will be unveiling billboards across the nation in major cities stating “Census 2011: Not religious now? Mark ‘No religion’ and take religion out of politics.”

“It is time the Australian community questioned whether they hold religious beliefs or not. How they answer this question in the Census will influence decisions by Australian governments. Often the transfer of taxpayer money to religious organisations is justified on the basis of the Census results, as are special concessions and exemptions including the right to discriminate against some groups.

Of course, the ‘No Religion’ box is for the people who haven’t quite made it all the way to ‘Atheist’ yet. If you do identify as ‘Atheist’ or even ‘Agnostic’, feel free to write that in. Both categories are recognised on the census, so commentators can include them in with the non-religious vote.

One thing isn’t clear: what happens to joke answers like ‘Jedi’ et al. I can’t tell if they get dumped into the ‘did not answer’ bin, so don’t write them and risk not being counted. Let’s make the number of non-religious Australians zoom up this year.

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