Good Reason

It's okay to be wrong. It's not okay to stay wrong.

Category: religion (page 16 of 36)

Sunday blasphemy: Life without gods is enjoyable and ethical

Ran across this quote as a Facebook status update.

Without God, life would end at the grave and our mortal experiences would have no purpose. Growth and progress would be temporary, accomplishment without value, challenges without meaning.

In other words: There must be a god. If there weren’t, it would be depressing, and depressing things just can’t be true!

Not much of an argument, is it? But you can see the self-congratulatory appeal. It tells the believer: ‘You’re not wasting your time believing. Your belief gives your life a purpose.’ Well, I suppose the author’s church gives him a purpose. Maybe he actually means that his life would be meaningless without the god that he’s based all his hopes and aspirations on.

It also lets him pity atheists — oh, how empty their lives must seem!

Well, he can save his pity. Life without gods is still full of value and meaning, even if it doesn’t last forever. In fact, I find life more precious because of its brief duration.

I’m thinking of Babette’s Feast, a wondrous film that I first saw at BYU. (I wonder if it’s still a favourite on the International Films list.) Babette, a French chef, is a long-time resident of a village full of dour Lutherans. When she announces that she’s making a feast for her friends, it sends them into turmoil — how can they enjoy the feast while renouncing the pleasures of the flesh? Maybe it’s the age I am now, but as a BYU student with false assurances of a future eternity, I thought, “What a neat film.” Now when I think of it, and of our brief time to feast, I am moved to tears. I feel that coming to accept mortality and non-existence has deepened my emotions in way that was impossible when I thought life would go forever.

Is growth and progress temporary — and therefore meaningless — if we die and cease to exist? For the individual, perhaps, but there’s more than just us, you know. There’s also humanity. The great things that people have made and left behind continue to benefit all of us. How short-sighted to claim it’s all pointless if he’s not around to have it forever. How self-centered. How this view devalues life. What paucity of imagination. What meanness of spirit.

There’s more. The author continues:

There would be no ultimate right and wrong and no moral responsibility to care for one another as fellow children of God.

Ultimate right and wrong? Says someone whose barbaric holy books need constant reinterpretation and explanation to bear any resemblance to the morality held by normal people today.

And as far as moral responsibility, if he needs to believe in an invisible man to care about other humans, then I hope he never stops believing. Luckily, we atheists can take care of people we love and contribute to the good of humanity without all the supernatural baggage.

I wonder if the author of this quote would be disappointed to find that atheists aren’t all miserable and depressed. We have the temerity to be happy in this life. And how confusing it must be to see us taking care of other people without an ‘absolute morality’. I think I’ll confuse him even more by dropping a few coins into ‘Non-Believers Giving Aid‘. Figure that one out, God-Boy.

Bit of consistency, please.

God is at it again.

Man tells cops God told him to stroll in the nude

THIBODAUX, La. — A man who told police that God told him to walk the streets naked to save his soul has been arrested. Thibodaux police responded to an obscenity complaint around 2 a.m. Thursday and found Shafiq Mohamed walking nude down the street. When approached, Mohamed reportedly told officers that “America raped him” and added God told him to walk the streets naked to save his soul.

Obscenity complaint? They should have written him into the Old Testament. Haven’t they heard of Isaiah? God told him to walk around naked for three years.

20:2 At the same time spake the LORD by Isaiah the son of Amoz, saying, Go and loose the sackcloth from off thy loins, and put off thy shoe from thy foot. And he did so, walking naked and barefoot.
20:3 And the LORD said, Like as my servant Isaiah hath walked naked and barefoot three years for a sign and wonder upon Egypt and upon Ethiopia;
20:4 So shall the king of Assyria lead away the Egyptians prisoners, and the Ethiopians captives, young and old, naked and barefoot, even with their buttocks uncovered, to the shame of Egypt.

The cops don’t recognise a literary allusion when they see it. Only one thing to do: teach the bible in schools.

How to draw Mohammed — and why

UPDATE: More on Mohammed.

Here’s the pictorial Mohammed archive: Mohammed as depicted by Muslims

And an interesting article by Marlon Mohammed: Why I Will Draw Mohammed.

In the UK, each capitulation has been followed by another demand for yet another capitulation. By giving in to Muslim “sensitivity” demands, even at the expense of their own ancient culture, the Brits (and the other European nations) have only encouraged more demands.

At fault here is not Islamic extremism per se. It’s human nature. It is a basic element of our species to take when we see the opportunity to take, to demand more if we think we can get more. As children, we learn to test our parents and relatives. “Who lets me have the most cake? Daddy or mommy? Grandma or grandpa? Who will give in if I ask for one more piece?”

That’s why all good parents know the value of saying “no.”

Today I said “no”.

Back to the old meeting-house

I did eventually return that box of church books. I didn’t recycle any of the old lesson manuals or anything, just gave them back. I debated annotating the margins with point for point rebuttals, but that would have taken more work than benefit.

It was good to see some old friends and acquaintances. Oldest Boy came along, too. A few people asked him if he’d be coming back, looking hopeful. (His reaction: Don’t think so.) He thought it was kind of good to see people, though he was annoyed that everyone commented on how tall he’d gotten. Other people’s kids looked older too. That was strange. I must have been away longer than I’d realised. In fact, it’s only been three years, but it feels longer.

The building looked the same, the art was the same, and the lessons were probably about the same as when I’d left. In fact, that was the overall impression I got: sameness. But not stability — stagnation.

Same people there, too, still hearing the same messages, same exhortations to pay tithing, do Home or Visiting Teaching, support the activities, and on and on. I could probably go back in three more years, and still find mostly the same people there. It’s silly, but because I only ever saw these people at church, I had this cognitive illusion that they’d never left the building in all that time. It was all a bit Hotel California.

I couldn’t imagine sitting through another meeting rehashing the same material — same scriptures, maybe some interesting discussion, maybe a bit of controversy, never really able to be resolved, and the same curriculum over and over.

Since leaving religion, I’ve had more time to learn about the world we live in — about science and nature, philosophy and ethics, language and life. No doubt all the church people had learned things in the interim, too, when not at church. But what I’ve learned — and they still haven’t — is that life is enhanced, not diminished, by enjoying the real world and by rejecting the unseen world of gods, angels, devils, and spirits. Sure, I learned a lot of good moral teachings in that church, and some really awful ones. But the religious system was like a maze that you could stay in forever, whose passages only led back to the same places, with no relation to the outside world.

As I left the building that day, I felt relieved not to be there anymore. I want to say that it was the feeling of having graduated, but that’s not quite right. It was the feeling of having escaped.

My son and I said goodbye to everyone, and walked out into the sunlight. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, too nice to be inside. People were playing a game in a field opposite the church. Life was happening out in the real world, and we were a part of it.

Whatever lifts your luggage

I second Dan Savage’s call to idiom.

Dan Savage dishes out sex advice to troubled souls. His column is not for those easily offended by the variety of human sexual experience. In his latest offering, he touches on the recent outing of noted Christian homophobe George Rekers.

Says Savage:

Rekers is a towering figure in the religious right. He’s the cofounder of the Family Research Council; a member of the National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality, a group that claims it can cure homosexuality, and the go-to guy for “expert” testimony about how gay people threaten and endanger children. And last week, Rekers got busted coming back from a 10-day European vacation with a 20-year-old male escort he found on Rentboy.com. Rekers told two reporters from the Miami New Times that he “can’t lift luggage,” so what other choice did he have but to hire a 20-year-old with an eight-inch cock?

To mark the downfall of yet another crazy, hypocritical closet case, I propose that “whatever floats your boat” be immediately permanently retired in favor of “whatever lifts your luggage.” This will be George “Rentboy” Rekers’ legacy, his lexi-colonic gift to the English language. Help spread the meme.

Yessir!

Though credit is also due to Jesus and Mo.

Michael R. Ash commits if-abuse

Religious apologists are fond of using the trappings of science. Maybe it’s because science poses the greatest challenge to their claims (so they’d better sound like they know about it), and maybe it’s because they’re trying to borrow science’s credibility.

But it’s not easy to see exactly how the efforts of apologists and true believers are different from real science. I think I’ve worked it out. And since it’s a shame to leave it buried in the comment section of the Undying Thread, I’m pulling it up here into the light.

Here’s how it works according to science. It takes evidence to establish a claim. The more extraordinary the claim, the more evidence it takes. Without that evidence, the claim is rejected. The starting point is an assumption that the claim is not true. Basic stuff.

For example, I do not believe that there was ever a significant population of Hebrew or (reformed) Egyptian speakers in North or South America during alleged Book of Mormon times because there’s no evidence for it. No fragments of Hebrew script, no Egyptian loan words in existing languages. But future discoveries could overturn my disbelief.

Apologists and true believers do it the opposite way. The religious belief is assumed to be true without adequate evidence. Religious claims are accepted as long as they’re not specifically refuted by enough evidence. And the more deeply held the claim, the more evidence it takes to disabuse them of it.

Of course, it’s impossible to amass enough evidence to convince a true believer. For one thing, you can’t prove a negative. For another, many of their claims are not even falsifiable. And evidence can be ambiguous, so it will never disconfirm their view 100 percent. Which means that you can bring alternate explanations and evidence that refutes their view all day long, and they’ll just cling to the sliver of probability that remains, saying “I could still be right.” That sliver of hope is all they need.

So this is the tack that Mormon apologists have to take. They must know that there’s no evidence to establish their view, but as long as they can muddy the waters enough to create a sliver of possibility — redefining words, finding loopholes, and creating fanciful hypothetical scenarios — the faithful are satisfied and don’t notice that there’s not enough evidence to establish their claims.

We, as scientists and critical thinkers, do ourselves a disservice when we play the game their way. Trying to argue them down to zero probability is impossible, but that’s not our job. The burden of evidence is on them to establish their claims.

With that very long intro, let’s take a look at Michael R. Ash’s latest. This one’s about the word ‘Lamanite’. He’s already admitted that you can’t find DNA from Lamanites in current Native American populations, but the lack of evidence isn’t going to stop him from believing in them. He argues that their DNA was ‘subsumed‘ into a larger population — a wildly improbable event.

Ash details the problem:

If we theorize that the Lehites in the Book of Mormon were a small incursion into a larger existing New World population, and that their DNA was swamped out by the dominant and competing haplogroups,

Remind me: why were we theorising that? Because it’s well-supported by evidence? No, because it allows the religious theory to maintain a sliver of probablity. Carry on.

…some members may wonder who — of the surviving modern populations — are the “Lamanites”? In the Doctrine and Covenants, for example, the early Saints are directed to go preach to the Lamanites. How could the Native Americans in Joseph’s world be Lamanites?

It’s worse than that. If you can’t find any genetic Lamanites, how is the Book of Mormon going to come forth unto them? How are they going to ‘blossom as the rose‘? The redemption story falls apart.

Ash’s answer: Redefine the word ‘Lamanite’ away from genetics and toward culture.

The answer is found in culture and genealogy.

While culture is learned and typically passes from parents to children, people can change cultures or assimilate into different cultures. Thus we have Americans who are culturally American, although they (or their ancestors) might have come from Africa, Europe, Asia, or many other parts of the world. Terms such as “African,” “Asian,” “Jew,” “LDS,” “Indian,” and so forth are social constructs, not biological or genetic classifications.

Shorter: Cultural terms are just constructs, so it’s okay to refer to people by a term that was completely made up by some guy.

Finally, we have genealogy, or one’s ancestry. Everyone has two parents, and each parent has two parents. If you go back two generations (to your grandparents) you have four ancestral slots filled by two grandfathers and two grandmothers. As we go further back in our genealogy the number of ancestral slots increases geometrically.

Fail. He means ‘exponentially‘.

Update: No, I fail. See comments.

These slots don’t represent the actual number of ancestors, however, because intermarriage among relatives will cause some ancestors to fill multiple ancestral slots.

No, silly, it’s because parents can have more than one child. So each person on earth doesn’t require two unique parents; lots of people will have the same parents. Minor point, but it is a worry that he’s not good at understanding things.

If we could create a genealogical chart for a modern Native American back to Lehi’s generation we would have over 1 octillion ancestral slots (that’s more than 1 trillion times 1 quadrillion). Now obviously he would not have 1 octillion ancestors (there haven’t been that many people in the entire history of the world). Some ancestors would fill many of these ancestral slots. Nevertheless, on a genealogy chart, there would be 1 octillion ancestral slots. From how many slots would our Native American be descended? All of them. If Laman (or a descendant of Laman) was an ancestor in just one of these 1 octillion ancestral slots, then it can legitimately be claimed that our Native American is a Lamanite descendant.

Wow, the descendants are all Lamanites even if there was just one real Lamanite in an octillion?

What if there was none? No Lamanite ancestors at all. Because that’s the way it’s looking.

We can discount Ash’s complex web of theorising at one stroke, because there’s literally no evidence for Lamanites. But he’s working the opposite way: if we assume that the Book of Mormon is true, and if this incredibly improbable genetic swamping happened, and if words mean what he redefines them to mean, and if there’s one Lamanite back in the genealogy, and if you put on these special 3D glasses and squint a bit, then it’s remotely possible that the Mormon view could still be right. And you can keep going to Church, pay tithing, and stop worrying.

I’ll ask it again: What’s more likely, that Ash’s very complex and improbable overlapping scenarios happened in such a way as to not leave any evidence? Or that someone wrote a fake book?

Ash is once again redefining words and constructing fanciful hypotheticals to create a semblance of plausibility for his religious theory. That’s not good enough. He needs to bring publicly verifiable evidence.

Maybe religion can still do ‘comfort’ and ‘social cohesion’.

It’s just as the ministers feared: If you offer secular ethics, no one’s going to want religion anymore.

Scripture classes lose half of students to ethics, say Anglicans

THE controversial trial of secular ethics classes has ”decimated” Protestant scripture classes in the 10 NSW schools where it has been introduced as an alternative for non-religious children, with the classes losing about 47 per cent of enrolled students.

Seems that religion’s attempt to evolve has led to a conflict. See, back in the old days, religion offered a view of the earth’s history and future that claimed to be true. When that turned out to be a load of old bollocks, some religions decided that providing ‘moral instruction’ was more in their line. The problem with that was that secular people are already doing morals, thank you very much, and the morals they’ve come up with are a lot more relevant than those of the world’s religions.

I can’t say it better than Dawkins did (and ex tempore too).

Religions are not all that good at moral instruction. Their scriptures are punctuated with unprincipled savagery, and the behaviour of their leaders has been at times reprehensible. (And I forgot to mention in my original post: one recent study showed no difference in the ethical behaviour of atheists and church-goers.)

There are some good bits in with the nasty bits, but on the whole, what a mess. Leave it out of schools, and let the secular humanists present a view of morality that is well-thought out, and centered on what’s good for humans, not for imaginary people or their representatives.

Atheist YouTube party

For this week’s UWA Atheist and Agnostic Society meeting, it was Atheist YouTube Party! With me as programmer. I really enjoyed the chance to share some of my faves. Here they are, as a YouTube playlist. Prepare to be offended and/or enlightened; the choice is, as always, entirely up to you.

NOTE: I think there might be a bug in the YouTube embedded playlist feature. The embedded playlist below skips the first video, which in this case was Tim Minchin’s “The Pope Song”. If you want to see it first, you can either click here to go to my blog post of a few days ago, or click here to find a working playlist on a different page.

Since I didn’t have a rock-solid net connection in the lecture room, I decided to take the precaution of downloading the videos as mp4’s using KeepVid, and then making a playlist in VLC. It made things go much more smoothly.

The Pope Song: A linguistic analysis

Been enjoying this new video from Tim Minchin. It’s catchy, but it does have a wee bit of profanity. Entirely justified.

Here are some stats about the song.

  • some variant of ‘fuck’: 84 times
  • some variant of ‘mother’ + ‘fuck’ in the same word: 35 times
  • some variant of ‘cunt’: 0 times
  • That’s one ‘fuck’ every: 1.54 seconds
  • Ratio of ‘fuck’ words to other words: 1:3.85

Other songs, for comparison:

  • Fuck tha Police by N.W.A.: One ‘fuck’ every 9.32 seconds
  • Too Drunk to Fuck by Dead Kennedys: every 8.89 seconds
  • Fucking in Heaven by Fatboy Slim: every 2.29 seconds
  • Bodies by the Sex Pistols: every 1.0 seconds (but only that one part in the third verse)
  • Fireflies by Owl City: every 0.6 seconds (subliminal)
  • Number of other songs I know that rhyme ‘papist’ and ‘rapist’: 0.

Deconversion stories: Why so long?

Why did it take so long for me to leave religion?

I keep coming back to this question, in fact kicking myself over it — all that time and energy gone. Then I cut myself some slack. I remember that it’s hard to get out of a system you’re born into, and one that you’ve believed and invested so much in.

Still, all that aside, why did it take me so long to recognise the now-obvious absurdities and contradictions in Mormon doctrine — actually, in all of theism? And Mormon doctrine is full of absurdities. Translating out of a hat? Pouring oil on someone to heal them from diseases? God living on a planet near the star Kolob? Having to memorise and repeat words and signs to get into heaven? Ridiculous in retrospect. Why did it seem so plausible at the time?

Of course, we can turn to the standard set of devices that humans use to believe the implausible: communal reinforcement, childhood indoctrination, confirmation bias. But recently I realised a little something extra that probably helped keep my belief afloat: It’s very difficult to critique a religion effectively when you still accept some religious ideas. Meeting on Saturday might seem arbitrary, but really, meeting on Sunday is equally so. Believing in chakras is not so absurd when you believe in spirits. Why would it be a problem for a ghost to tell Nephi to kill Laban, when David killed Goliath? And so on. Religious beliefs don’t seem absurd in contrast with other religious beliefs. What we’re able to question depends on what we already accept as true.

In other words, the only solid ground from which to criticise religion is atheism. But how likely is someone to question the whole kit-n-kaboodle all at once? What’s more likely to happen is that we’ll try to preserve as much of the original belief as we can. Much less painful that way. But when you do that, you’re unlikely to question that one little assumption that allows the whole structure to stand: that there’s a god who can do magical things when it wants to. If you accept that one idea, then you can magic your way around any contradiction.

Once you step outside of that bubble and question the idea of a god, then all the absurdities become transparently obvious. But that’s an advanced move, and probably one that people only try when all other options are exhausted. No wonder it can take so long.

Older posts Newer posts

© 2024 Good Reason

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑