Quotes From Bizarro World: part 3

This is a continuation of a series of quotations from, and commentary of, my reading of John Frame’s book, Salvation Belongs to the Lord, which I am reading for a class about faith in Christian life. I will be under-cover, so shhhhh…..

Part 1

Part 2

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So, what shall we speak of today?

The Trinity.

Oh, joy! That’s an easy one that can be covered in a blog post, right? Well, no. I would just like to quote Frame from the chapter entitled God, Three in One and makes a few observations.

Remember, though, that Scripture gives us only a glimpse, not a treatise…. Much that the Bible teaches about the Trinity is very mysterious, and we must bow in humility as we enter into this holy realm

(page 30)

So, in other words the Bible is vague about this doctrine, but we are going to humble ourselves before it anyway? OK, I thought that the Bible was the ultimate source of truth, and so where it is vague we will simply humble ourselves to a view that was attained through latter interpretation of vague verses? I’m getting ahead of myself….

Frame then lists 5 assertions (his term), which I will simplify into a list.

5 assertions

God is One
God is Three
The three persons are all each fully God
Each person is distinct from each-other
They are related eternally as Father, Son, Holy Spirit

Ok, let’s start with #1. I don’t believe it, but I understand. How about #2? I don’t believe it but I understand…that is until my memory reminds me that #1 said something which flatly contradicts #2.

So, after I pick up the pieces of my exploded brain, I take a deep breath and try to move onto #3. I can’t. My brain is still experiencing some sort of stop error, and I cannot move on. The first two assertions are purely contradictory. But this is supposed to be a mystery. And besides, my mind, intellect, etc are fallen, sinful, and broken. I am not supposed to understand, but just accept.

Except that the Bible is vague on this point….

*sigh*

Let’s move on. Frame says that there have been “debates over the deity of Christ.” Not just in modern times, but in ancient times. During the 3rd and 4th centuries, many views of Jesus conflicted among the early Christians, even though Frame does say later (in chapter 10 entitled Who is Jesus Christ?) that there is no debate in the NT about this issue. One wonders how now-heretical views could have formed without Scriptural basis? Probably it has something to do with the fact that the canonical books that became the Bible had not been declared canon until after 325 AD. Before then there were other texts being considered as authoritative by many people. Many of these books are gone, some have been subsequently found.

Still, continues Frame,

But the conclusion of the Christian church since its inception, and the conclusion of the Bible itself, is that Father, Son, and Spirit are each fully God.

(page 32)

Sure, the Bible as voted one by councils in the 4th century (starting with Nicaea). The letters, gospels, etc that created a theological problem for this view were considered heretical, and often destroyed. So, while the scriptures that became canonical were vague at best, other writings made this issue even less clear when considered. Modern readers often do not know about these non-canonical texts, and so they are out of mind. Still the Bible we have is vague about this doctrine, but this idea is central to most Christian theology almost without question.

Yeah, that makes sense….

Frame adds this;

The work of theology is not just reading through the Scriptures but applying the Scriptures to the questions people ask, applying it to their needs.

(page 35)

Seems innocuous enough. Then you start to think about it. Theology is an attempt to categorize what is written. It is an attempt to make sense out of the Scripture in terms of what matters to us in our lives, right? Why would the Trinity be necessary for this?

Let’s follow the trail and see where Frame leads us. At the end of the chapter, Frame tells us that

If Jesus the Son of God is only a creature, [Athanasius] said, then we are guilty of idolatry….[Jesus] is worthy of worship only if he is equal to the Father….”

and then further down the page,

If the Arians were right…then we are hoping to be saved from sin through a mere creature. Only if Jesus is fully God, a member of the ontological Trinity, can he save us from our sins.

(page 41)

Ah! I see now. The Trinity becomes a doctrine to explain how Jesus, his so-called sacrifice, is able to have theological import. The Trinity is a solution to a problem of getting to where theologians want to get; salvation. It’s a puzzle-solution, not a philosophical methodology for figuring out what is true, lines up with reality, or anything like that. (Heresy!).

If you read the New Testament, you will not find a clear treatise on the Trinity. Jesus does not say he is equal to the Father and the Spirit, that they are all 3 persons of the same substance, or anything like that.

But Jesus is supposed to have said something things that would have been heretical to the Jewish establishment and which identified him as at least similar to God. The whole “Son of Man” thing, the doing of miracles, etc. So, by taking these puzzle pieces and structuring them into the Trinitarian formula, Athanasius and the early church along with him put together a coherent whole that, while not sensible, seeks to harmonize the claims of the gospels, Paul’s writings, etc. It’s a matter of creating the appearance of coherence in God’s Word, not in making sense of reality based on logic, rational enquiry, or (gods! no!) any proto-scientific method.

This seems to me to be a strange, backwards, way to figure out a mystery. Philosophical methodology might ask you to figure out what is logically possible then try to apply that to what is found. Here, logical possibility is thrown out as a criteria because we are broken, body and mind. The Word is the authority, our minds are broken.

We cannot trust ourselves, our minds, or rational thought.

Well, all there is to do under those conditions is believe, right?

Ugh….

Don’t think about that too hard.

The Christian Story: class redux

Well, so I have now attended the first two classes at a local church entitled The Christian Story: How Christian Theology Affects Everyday Life.

I have not written much, so far, about the class itself, although I have talked a little about the book we are using (John Frame’s Salvation Belogs to the Lord) and will continue to quote and comment soon. I have not commented on the class because there has not been much to comment on.

In my opinion the class runs too short. For any real discussion more time is necessary. The problem is that the class tends to thin out as people leave to go to the 10:45 service. I do not attend the service, because I feel no need to do so and because I have already seen it once at this church. The sermons are not sufficiently enticing to sit through the singing to Jesus and so forth.

Really, nothing is worse than Christianed-up rock chords put to words of praise to super-Jew.

The first class drew around 20, the second about 15. Mostly people in their 20’s-30’s, some married (with or without their partners), and few single people. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on currupting any nice young Christian women with my wily ways. Although there is a certain appeal to the idea.

Really, I’m not evil.

3 classes remain. I’m hoping that we will have a chance to dig into this stuff more, because while some interesting questions have been raised, and then subsequently glossed over, I feel like there is potential for actual discussion to get going. Likely, it will get going as the class nears its end. And I don’t want to give myself away and distract the purpose of the class by asking too many questions myself.

Yet.

But the book’s view is so conservative, so absurdly literalistic, that it really does seem (as one other class member stated) that the Bible says it, and then it’s rigfht because the Bible says it “30 times.” You know, argument by assertion.

He still made sure that, in saying this, he was clear that he still believed, despite bringing up the issue of justification for belief. No, not Justification (wherein God decalres us righteous, in a legal sense–see, I’m learning!), but epistemological justification of why to accept points of theology at all. That is hardly brought up at all, except to say that the Bible is God’s Word.

Sorry, I need more than that.

3 more weeks….

Quotes from Bizarro World (2)

See Part1

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“as believers in Christ we don’t get what we deserve. We deserve death, but God has placed that punishment of death on his Son. In Jesus’ death he gets what we deserve….”

(page 23)

Now, this quotation brings up nothing new to me, but I think it is more valid to quote what an actual Christian says than to try and summarize based upon generalities. This way, no straw-men are hurt in the writing of this post.

This common theme, that we are all sinners worthy of death, is disturbing to me. It is not disturbing in the way that Frame, and other Christians, may expect it to be disturbing; I am not worried about the death that I deserve. I’m disturbed because this view seeks to distract us from this world, a world of this magical and mythological thing called ‘sin’ which supposedly pervades our very being.

Christian theology seeks, fundamentally, to make us feel broken. It is a great marketing technique to make the customer feel like they lack something, then to present them with a product to fill that gap. The fact that religion tends to use this method quite frequently explains that it’s success has to do with how our brains work and are manipulated much more than religious messages being true.

But what are they selling? Belief in Jesus, right? Well, yes, but it is done through this substitutional atonement; Jesus suffered for your sins. This makes no sense at all, but it seems sweet of him to try. This substitutional framework is mirrored on the idea that Adam, who represents us in his fall from the “covenant of works” (by which humanity was tested to see if they could obey God’s laws and failed in the eating of the fruit of the tree…you know the story). Adam failed, Adam represents us. Jesus succeeded, and Jesus seeks to represent us if we would only believe….

There is something in the mind that catches at this. It is a subtle psychological method going on here. There is a subtle manipulation, one that I have never succumbed to, but I feel it. I don’t feel it in a desirous way, I feel it in a way similar to that feeling I get when I hear a good sales pitch. I subtly think yeah, that makes a kind of sense…I should buy that! but am then returned to reality where I don’t need a George Foreman grill.

(I’m waiting for some Christians to tell me that this feeling is God trying to reach out, but my hardened heart refuses to accept the free gift…you now the drill.)

And so God gave his only begotten Son and all that, right? We should feel thankful, shouldn’t we? Well, I have addressed Jesus’ ‘sacrifice‘ before, and I don’t think much of it. I know the whole “fully God, fully man” thing is supposed to make it possible for Jesus to suffer and make the crucifixion meaningful, but I don’t buy that either. I guess that makes me a heretic for not accepting the Chalcedonian Declaration. Whether Nestorian, Monophysite, or mythicist, I am certainly a heretic of some sort.

People, we are not sinners. There is no reason to believe a literal and historical Fall occurred. There is no reason to accept that a mythological Fall occurred, or that we are inherently sinful or broken in any spiritual way. In fact, there is no reason to accept the existence of a non-metaphorical ‘spirit’ or ‘soul’ in the first place.

Any imperfections in our being are due to the blind forces that formed us over millions of years of evolution–not some moral failing due to lack of obedience to some megalomaniacal bully of a god. We have the ability to educate ourselves, improve ourselves, and we don’t need a savior from any fairy-tale sins.

There is nothing to save us from.

Quotes from Bizarro World

This is the first in a series of quotations, and very likely commentary, from my reading of John Frame’s book, Salvation Belongs to the Lord, which I am reading for a class about faith in Christian life. I will be under-cover, so shhhhh…..

—

Secularists usually try to argue that the personal reduces to the impersonal…[they] are ultimately just matter, motion, space, time, and chance. But the Bible teaches the opposite; the impersonal reduces to the personal. Matter, motion, space, time, and chance are, ultimately, tools used by one great Person to organize and run the universe he has made.

(page 7)

This is the first glimpse within this screed that we are not dealing with someone that is going to justify any argument in any other way than the Bible says so. In fact, it is clear, as I read on, that we are dealing with a person that believes that the Bible is as authoritative as the words directly from God’s mouth. In fact, he says pretty much just that in chapter 5.

The Bible, argues Frame, is infallible (even if it is not always precise), especially in regards to salvation.

So, when we see Frame addressing secularists, we should not expect a rational response. After all, the intellect (along with will and emotions) are part of our sinful nature. We must trust God’s word completely, especially over our own senses, judgments, and reason because these things are fallen. Rather than tell us why the impersonal reduces to the personal, we are told that Scripture says so, and the authority of Scripture is absolute.

No room for argument.

How stifling! How backwards! How sickening! And, granted, this form of Christian faith is not the only one out there, but it is a pervasive one among many churches. This type of Reformed theology, Calvinist in perspective and literalist in interpretation, is quite common. Even if most church-goers don’t take it so seriously as to actually live their life completely according to the implications of this worldview, it acts as a backdrop to our views about education, sexuality, and so on.

It can’t make the anti-intellectual culture we live in any better, because intellect is sinful. And I, my dear reader, am merely lost. But God created me to be lost, so I guess he won’t complain or punish me or anything….

I need a shower…

Slavation Belongs to the Lord

OK, I need to take a break.

I really can’t take any more of this right now….

OK, context! Yes, dear reader, you need context to such a statement.

Very well.

I am planning on taking a class at a local church about faith in everyday life. Part of the class involves reading a book, an introduction to systematic theology, by a very conservative theologian by the name of John M. Frame. It is called Salvation belongs to the Lord. and I have been reading it in preparation for the class.

Why am I taking this class? Well, partly because I am interested in learning about theology from an insider’s perspective. But I also want to sit in and hear discussions among Christians and hear what they have to say, so that I am better informed about what people think about such things.

I intend to say little, and I will not lie about my views but will not offer them, at least at first. If I am asked directly, I have decided not to hide who I am and why I am there, but otherwise I intend to listen a lot.

So, why am I so frustrated? Because this book proposes a literalitic and conservative view of the Bible that is so absurd, so constraining, and so repressive that I can only take it small bits at a time.

We must, argues Frame, submit our will, intellect, and emotions to God’s will. There is no ability to think for ourselves, especially if we are to question anything the Bible says.

We did not evolve. He spent about 3/4 of a page discussing evolution and merely dismissed it on the basis that it is not in accordance with Scripture.

I could go on. I won’t. In the coming weeks I will discuss this class, our discussions within, and perhaps sections of the book. for now, I just wanted to rant for a moment before I tore the book in half and ran screaming into the night.

Salvation Belongs to not reading this crap anymore…

Yet I will persevere.

Gary Gutting on Atheism and agnosticism

Gary Gutting is a professor at Notre Dame, in the department of philosophy. About a month ago, he wrote this article for the New York Times. I rather liked the article, as I remember. But there was a small annoying catch that caught my attention. It happens here:

In these popular debates about God’s existence, the winners are neither theists nor atheists, but agnostics — the neglected step-children of religious controversy, who rightly point out that neither side in the debate has made its case. This is the position supported by the consensus of expert philosophical opinion.

*facepalm*

I have addressed this. I even re-addressed this.

No, Dr. Gutting, this is not the consensus of expert philosophical opinion. This is ignorance displayed as consensus by gobshites who are so far removed from the atheist community and feel the need to feel superior. OK, maybe they just have not thought this through….

I was moved to respond. And so I hopped on my keyboard and churned out a quick response, while including my link from one of my favorite posts about agnosticism. You know, the one linked above.

I didn’t hear from him after a few days, and forgot about it.

Then, the other day, I happened to glance over at my left-hand panel on my gmail page and noticed that I had a draft email.

What could that be? I thought

For some reason, the email to Dr. Gutting had never sent. It was just sitting there, unsent, all this time. So, I decided to send it, finally.

He replied to me today:

Thanks for your thoughts.

Of course, you can use the terms the way you think best. But your way of putting things ignores two importantly different ways of not believing that God exists. You might not believe in the sense that you withhold judgment as to whether God exists OR in the sense that you believe that God does not exist. In ordinary usage, the first sense of not believing in God is called “agnosticism” and the second is called “atheism”. It seems to me that this is a useful distinction, and I don’t see what you gain by eliminating it.

I also think you confuse the discussion by assuming that the agnostic claim “I don’t know whether or not God exists” must mean “I am not absolutely certain whether or not God exists”. In most contexts, knowledge doesn’t imply absolute certainty; it’s consistent with at least a small degree of uncertainty. So, if someone says he knows that Paris is the capital of France, but admits that there’s some small probability that a coup in the last few hours moved the French capital to Lyon, we don’t think he’s contradicting himself. Of course, you can insist that anyone who allows the slightest bit of doubt about a claim is agnostic about it. Then almost everyone becomes an agnostic about almost everything, and the term has little use. But that’s only because of the artificially strong sense you’ve given to “know”. And, even if you use “know’ that way, there is still the highly useful understanding of agnosticism in terms of belief (not knowledge): There are still many important cases in which people are agnostic about a claim in the sense of neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false.

Best,

Gary

Well, nice. He responded quickly, if not tersely. Of course I didn’t give him much to chew on, and I have no way to know if he ever read my post I linked him to. I doubt he did.

So, what about his response? I thought he was still missing the point, so I sat and started typing, and eventually replied with the following:

*sigh*

I think you have misunderstood my perspective, and would like to try and be more clear, if I can. I’m mot saying that I am reserving judgment NOR am I saying that I believe that god does not exist. Neither of those positions are those of the atheist who has considered the philosophical implications of the question at hand. That’s what you are missing, I think. The position of the vast majority of atheists I know from the atheist community is that we are not convinced that a god exists. Our judgment (again, not a reserved one) is that the claim has not been sufficiently demonstrated towards rational belief, while recognizing that we cannot say with absolute or high certainty that the proposed being cannot or does not exist.

This goes to your second point; I am not using the term “know” in this absolute sense either, but rather it’s more fluid common usage accepted by philosophers of many stripes. I’m an agnostic because I recognize that there is information I do not have, perspectives I have not considered, and because it is not logically impossible for many concepts of god to exist. Thus some god might exist beyond my current level of knowledge (or not exist beyond my current state of knowledge, depending, of course, on whether I actually believe in such a being currently) but this is not the point. Again, this is not a epistemologically absolutist position, but rather one of relative strength in the vein of scientific knowledge; overwhelming evidence is sufficient for using the term “know.”

You said:

And, even if you use “know’ that way, there is still the highly useful understanding of agnosticism in terms of belief (not knowledge): There are still many important cases in which people are agnostic about a claim in the sense of neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false.

This does not touch my use of the term agnostic at all. In fact, it coheres with it, somewhat ironically. Allow me to explain;

The first clause I will not grant aside from the trivial point that any word could be used in any way a person chooses to use it. But if we are striving for philosophical precision, we must try to maintain a consistency of terms insofar as they do not stray too far from usefulness in distinguishing concepts in context to the discussion at hand. ‘Agnostic’ is derived from the Greek word for ‘knowledge’, and in the context of the question of god’s existence this term plays the role of the question of knowledge, rather than belief, because these are epistemologically different concepts (knowledge and belief) and thus need to be distinguished in being precise. By allowing ‘agnosticism’ to bleed into the question of belief, one fails to recognize that this distinction is relevant.

And if you think that knowledge and belief are not that easily distinct, then you need to demonstrate why and how this impacts the question at hand. I do not believe you have done so thus far. However, I do think that this issue might be a point of our misunderstanding of one-another. I’ll leave that aside for the moment.

In terms of your second clause from above,

There are still many important cases in which people are agnostic about a claim in the sense of neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false.,

this is possibly trivially true, but again you miss the point. You are creating the wrong dichotomy to understand how I’m using the term ‘atheist.’ I’ll try and pry apart the relevant issues.

I accept, from the start, that there is no rational way to demonstrate that there are no gods of any kind. I cannot prove a negative, nor am I trying to. The problem here is that the antecedent ‘dis-‘ in ‘disbelieve’ is ambiguous in that it can mean both “opposite of” or “absence of,” and the logical distinction between these meanings is the very heart of this misunderstanding. It’s precisely why I use the terminology of “lacking” belief, so as to get rid of this ambiguity. The term “lack” implies that I’m not saying “there is no god” or “I believe that there is no god” but rather that “the evidence is insufficient to believe, and so I don’t believe.”

The implication of this is that I will go about my day as if said being does not exist even if I know, when pressed, that I cannot logically believe that it does not exist. The further implication is that the position of “believing that it’s false” is off the table; it is not a position under consideration. (At least for me. There are some that try to move in this direction, especially about specific concepts of gods, but this is beyond atheism and into another topic, perhaps anti-theism or some other term that may be more appropriate. But I digress….).

Thus the dichotomy that you, and many others, draw between [edit*] belief in and the belief of absence (“in the sense of neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false.”) is not the same one that I draw. You are drawing a distinction between two beliefs, while I am drawing a distinction between believing and not believing. Again, this is a judgment, just not in favor of any belief. My judgment is that the evidence and reasons proposed for the existence of any gods fail to demonstrate what they seek to demonstrate towards rational belief, and thus I lack belief. I disbelieve. I am an atheist. I am without belief. I do not ‘believe that their is a lack of gods’, I ‘lack belief in any gods.’ I hope you understand the distinction now.

So those that can fall under “neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false” do not make the point I think you wish to make. Why? Your formulation of the statement fits the definition of ‘agnostic’ in the same way that a ‘carpenter’ could be defined as a person who either believes in fairies or that the proposition of fairies is false; the term has nothing to do with the dichotomy at all. That was my point; whether one is a theist (believes), an anti-theist (believes a god does not exist), or an atheist (simply lacks belief) any of them could be an agnostic because agnosticism deals with what one knows, not with what one believes. The term ‘agnostic’ has nothing to do with “neither believing that it’s true nor believing that it’s false” except in the trivial sense in which the formulation and the term are not mutually exclusive. They do not touch each-other at all.

You make the claim that “there is still the highly useful understanding of agnosticism in terms of belief (not knowledge)” but do not support this. I tried to show here why your subsequent clause did not wed agnosticism to belief in any way but a trivial one of non-exclusivity. In other words, I have not seen sufficient evidence (or reasoning) for your claim, thus don’t believe it. It may still be true, but that’s for you to demonstrate. The burden of proof still resides with you. See the analogy?

I’ll state my position again, and hope you’ll understand this time. I’m an agnostic; I don’t know if any gods exist. This is a given because nobody knows, either absolutely or by use of the term ‘know’ in a less absolutist sense. The term is thus redundant and thus useless; I toss the word to the side because it does not clarify my position in any way, except in the semi-trivial sense of being clear about my use of the term. Anyone who says that they know there is a god (or that they know there is not one) has the burden of proof, and I shall await their proof or overwhelming evidence.

I have not been convinced either way. The theist has not convinced me, and neither has the one claiming that there are no gods. I have judged both of their arguments to be insufficient to demonstrate their propositions.

Since I have not been convinced by the proposition (again, either one), even in light of attempts to demonstrate said being(s) existence (or against it’s existence), I lack belief in the proposed being (and the proposed lack of being), and lack belief.

Atheists are not going around trying to show why god does not exist (except in rarer cases, who are the extreme exception. These people are atheists, in that they lack belief, but are trying to take a further step in presenting an argument that gods do not exist, which goes beyond the definition of ‘atheism’ when we are being precise).

No, atheists are going around talking and writing about why they don’t believe in gods. They are presenting their arguments as to why the arguments proposed for gods fail to be rationally, empirically, or emotionally compelling. They are reacting to theology, not doing some bizzaro-world anti-theology (again, except for rare exceptions).

Don’t get caught up in the strong language of people saying “there is no god” because they are saying this in the same non-absolute sense that you objected to using “know” in your response above; They are not saying “there absolutely is no god” but rather “there is no reason, as far as I can see, to believe in one. Thus, I go about my days as if there is no god.”

Continue reading “Gary Gutting on Atheism and agnosticism” →

What Atheists Can Learn from the LGBT Movement

I watched this video of a presentation by Greta Christina earlier this week and many of the points have been swimming around my brain since then.

I have heard many people compare the recent atheist activism to the activism of gays 20-30 years ago, and this is perhaps the best presentation on the subject I have seen to date. (This is not to say there are no more comprehensive presentations, only that I have not seen them. If you know of another comparable one, direct me to it, please.)

And certainly there are parallels between the two movements, but since I am not gay (even though I have done activism in support of issues relating to LGBT rights) my commentary will not carry tremendous weight, so I will not say much about how similar they are. I’ll leave that to more authoritative commentators, such as Greta Christina herself, who does talk about many of the same issues as this very blog.

I will point out that the OUT campaign, affiliated with the Richard Dawkins foundation, is in part modeled on the movement to “come out of the closet” that was started by queers of all types, and which has become part of our cultural language such that atheists’ use of the phrase automatically draws the parallel for most people. I often wear a scarlet letter T-shirt that signifies this coming out, and will often get asked if I’m an adulterer, making obvious reference to The Scarlet Letter.

(The irony, as some friends have pointed out, is that the concept of adultery takes on different connotations as a polyamorous person. This is not to say that adultery is impossible within poly lifestyles, only that not all extra-marital sexual relationships will be considered infidelity, causing one to re-think the concept of adultery in such contexts.)

Now, the double reference of the scarlet letter and the coming out movement, wrapped in a symbol like this will cause confusion for most, but it is one that leads to conversations. Conversations are important to have. I have have countless (and often) short and friendly conversations explaining what the symbol stands for, what atheism is all about, and why I wear it. Small steps.

Now, whether the larger atheist community will learn from the mistakes of the LGBT movement or not, is yet to be seen. I know I am certainly guilty of some of the errors of which Greta Christina speaks. But it is important for us to keep in mind the lessons that previous social movements have to teach, so that the future will not reflect the past that we have learned from.

And I do believe that there will be a time when atheist (as well as polyamorous) social movements will be unnecessary. As she says in the video, it is the goal of a social movement to make itself obsolete. Will this happen in my lifetime? I don’t think so. But if we stop now, it may never happen.

Here’s to making social activism obsolete!

Mythology and the suspension of (dis)belief

I just recently saw the movie Inception, with Leonardo DiCaprio. I thought it was good, overall. There were a few times when I winced because the pseudo-scientific explanations for how the world of the movie operated hurt my brain. But I put it aside; I allowed myself the suspension of disbelief in order to enjoy the movie on its own merits. I allowed myself to be absorbed by the mythology of the film, in order to enjoy the narrative, characters, resolutions, etc. And then I enjoyed the movie.

Then I started thinking about mythology. I started to think how that suspension of disbelief, that acceptance of the mythology of the world I was watching, felt familiar to me. And then it struck me while I was in the shower (of course; why do such thoughts always seem to hit me in the shower?).

See, I’ve thought before that worldviews; the set of assumptions, beliefs, and (hopefully tentative) conclusions which underlie our navigation of the world, are made up of mythologies. Each of us have lenses (metaphorically speaking) with which we see the world; we often see very different worlds than those with different lenses. Stepping into someone else’s worldview will result in lack of understanding, feeling out-of-place, or possibly offended.

Then it occurred to me that in order to step into someone else’s world, one would need to suspend their disbelief. Further, they would have to first suspend their own belief, for a little while. They would have to try and take off their lenses and try on the lenses of another, in order to understand the world; to accept the slightly different world which is presented to them.

It is much like going to the movies.

I remember when I was first fascinated by religion, I would enter into situations such as church discussion groups, lectures, etc and I would try and lift my cultural assumptions in order to try and understand how they saw the same event. See, I studied anthropology as an undergrad, where we learned how to be good ethnologists. In order to understand cultures different than our own, we had to be able to become open, observant, and to, well, suspend our own worldviews as much as we could.

And the better we became at being aware of our own worldview, the better ethnologists we could become, right? The better we know what our own lenses do with our perceptions (our biases), the better we can identify how another bias might skew the theoretical objective reality that we are supposed to be sharing. (This makes me want to comment about the problems that this would bring up for an inter-subjective reality, which I prefer to the idea of an objective reality…but I shall resist the tangent).

So, back to the worldviews of others….

For a time, I was able to see the beauty, the inspiration, the enticement of the worlds I would visit. I could understand the draw of the love of Christ, understand the greatness of Allah, see the wisdom of the Buddha. I was able to comprehend, if only superficially and perhaps only as a simulacrum, why people had faith; why they maintained religiosity. Yes, my dear reader, I was once a faitheist, an accommodationist even, even while I had always been an atheist.

But I never accepted the worldview. I never became part of it. I watched it, with interest (and the appropriate disinterest at times) that accompanied my genuine desire to understand, but never accepted it as true. I couldn’t accept it as true, even when I saw it as beautiful, profound, or insightful.

I was able to enjoy the show.

This leads me to wonder; how often do theists do this?

How often do theists try to see the world through another religion’s eyes? How often do they really adopt skeptical glasses? I know Lee Strobel claims to do this, but I’m skeptical of this claim, for many reasons.

The Outsider Test for Faith deals with a related point, and I suggest that all theists consider this test for themselves.

But something has changed for me over the last several years. My genuine desire to understand has not changed, so what has? I no longer can comprehend how a person can continue to wear the glasses of the mythology of religion–I’m thinking specifically of Christianity but not exclusively–with the world as I see it around me. I do not claim that the world I see it is the TRUTH or that my worldview is superior (although it may be), but I have learned enough, been exposed to enough skepticism, and have thought about it enough to dismiss faith out-of-hand.

I no longer can respect faith. I can understand why people are stuck there, but not how they can remain to be stuck there with all that the world has to offer in terms of information, contrasting mythologies, etc.

This will remain a point of reflection for some time, and perhaps it is time for another episode of an atheist in the pews. (See part 2, as well). Perhaps I can regain some of the appreciation of religion.

Or maybe not. Perhaps that was an idealist’s dream that died with the cynicism that often accompanies growing up. Perhaps m more recent feeling, that the supposed beauty of religion is really hidden de-humanizing emotional traps, will prevail.

Time shall tell….

A challenge for ‘skeptics’

So, in recent months the issue of skepticism and atheism has come up a few times. It didn’t start here, but I’ll trace some of the narrative from there. I replied with my own post here, which led to some conversation with people here in the Atlanta skeptical community, and the issue died down a little, at least in the blogosphere.

Then this post hit skepchick the other day.

Matt Dillahunty responded, again, and here we are.

The issue here seems simple. I understand that skeptics believe that there are more pressing issues than this game of “nit-picking” and “semantics,” but that is not the point.

I also understand that there is a point in that we need to focus on common ground in order to build a community of people who want to help confront anti-science and combat charlatans.

But, within the skeptical community, isn’t skepticism the common ground? Isn’t the skeptical tool-set the basis for the community? Since when did not criticizing religious beliefs (specifically faith, IMO) become part of the common ground for so many in the community? I understand that what is meant here is to not cause divisions within the community, and this is important for SOME reasons, but should it trump skepticism itself?

Why is the issue of atheism so divisive in the skeptical community?

Because theists exist within the skeptical community, and they are not comfortable having their beliefs criticized. It’s the exact same reason why atheists are still demonized, even by other atheists, within the larger cultural conversation. Skepticism is having the same argument as the rest of us; affirmative atheists are dicks.

So? What if pro-psychics existed in that same community? What if they demanded that there views were beyond skepticism? What if they whined and moaned about divisiveness? Sure, we would be allowed to criticize them, but when we criticize faith even a little we have to tone it down, use kid words and gloves, and certainly don’t challenge the label of ‘skeptic’ for anyone not being skeptical.

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The essential question is whether the belief in any gods can stand up to skeptical scrutiny. The idea that it is outside the purview of skepticism is related to the issue, within scientific and atheist communities, of whether science and religion are overlapping or not (you know, Gould’s NOMA).

If science (the primary tool of a skeptic) cannot address religion, faith, etc, then perhaps a theist could get away with calling themselves a skeptic. But what about the null-hypothesis? What about the idea, within skepticism, that without evidence for something, lack of belief is considered to be the rational position? We don’t say that we have proved that psychic powers don’t exist, we point out the lack of evidence that it does. Same with god.

But, further, what if science CAN address religion, faith, etc? Well, I believe it can, despite what Massimo Pigliucci and Eugenie Scott have argued (and I like Massimo and Eugenie personally, so don’t say I’m being a dick to them, please). I believe that the claims of religion are testable, scientifically.

True, if one defines God as being transcendent or somehow beyond empirical verification, then science cannot test this being (if that term is applicable here) directly. But this ‘God’ is said to have effects, and those can be tested. Further, the historical, philosophical, and sociological aspects of religion and faith can be tested (and have) to the lack of satisfaction for the hypothesis.

But I’m digressing.

The bottom line is whether the ‘skeptic’ theist is being consistent in believing in a god. Is their belief justified after applying the tools of skepticism? And further, are they deserving of special exceptionism within the skeptical community out of a desire to not cause in-fighting? Would a skeptical community accept, into their community, someone who were working against the evils of religious groups but who accepted psychics as real with the same vigor?

I’ve seen theists proudly speaking at skeptical events (Laverne Knight-West at the Atlanta Skepticamp this year as an example), and they are often loudly applauded for their skepticism, incomplete as it may be. In the case of the Skepticamp speaker, when she was challenged on whether her skepticism might contradict her faith, she simply rattled out the old canard that she has other things to worry about.

That’s. Not. The. Point.

I’m not asking all of the skeptics out there to worry about, do anything about, or even care about atheism. Hell, if you don’t really care why are you arguing so hard against my criticism? I’m asking them if they were to apply skepticism to theism, even if just once for fun, would they conclude that theism is a good solid skeptical position?

Let’s stop talking about common grounds, divisiveness, etc in this issue, because that’s not the point. The point is that many in the skeptical community are creating a rift between themselves and atheists who feel like skeptics are accommodating religion in inconsistent ways. It is inconsistent because the merit of theism is no greater than that of psychics, homeopathy, or anti-vaccination. The difference is that people’s religions are more emotionally tied to them, and so they don’t tend to let skeptical tools near those beliefs.

That’s a weakness of those particular skeptics, and the desire for common grounds and working together should not trump the unifying ground of these communities; skepticism. If people run away from skepticism because their beliefs are challenged, perhaps they aren’t ready for skepticism except where it does not really challenge them.

It’s easy to apply skepticism to UFO’s, psychics, and anti-vax, especially if these may have been things accepted with little to no emotional attachment. What is difficult is applying skepticism to things that really matter to us, deep down. If you don’t want to apply skepticism there, then that is not a strength to be applauded, it is another, larger, hurdle, to overcome.

Point of View

I have thought many times, over the years, about points of view, or perspective even. One of my favorite thinkers, Friedrich Nietzsche, has been called by many a ‘perspectivist,’ and I think that this is a fair description of his style. Essentially, Nietzsche seems to be interested in shoving around our perspectives on issues so that we can see other points of view, usually with the goal to start to see the issue as from above, or a transcendent point of view. He did like the metaphor of living upon a mountain, descending to try and show us what he has learned while living up above.

An arrogant metaphor, perhaps, but perhaps true nonetheless.

And perspective is a complex issue, especially when it comes to looking at issues from different frames. In recent discussions with some rather conservative-minded people, it is clear that we simply see different things in different ways. The ways to come to some understanding are difficult, and perhaps worthy (if possible). There have been attempts to analyze such differences (here’s one by George Lakoff), and certainly the “culture wars” discussed over the last 10 years and more have left many niches for many other explanations for how differently we see the world.

But today I want to address something a bit simpler than that; I want to address a video that I watched a couple of days ago that struck me as odd.

It is this video:

Is this inspirational or cautionary?

Could this video be played, unedited, in front of a Christian congregation and then an atheist audience and be seen in very different ways?

I think so.

The creator of this video, The Thinking Atheist, may be aware of this duality, and may have created the video with that duality in mind. It is an example of many things that many Christians and many atheists will look at and see very differently. It is not unlike my reaction to hearing sermons, when I visit churches. I’m generally appalled by what others find powerfully inspirational. I find the basic theology of Christianity disgusting, inhuman, and am thus unable to see how others find it beautiful, let alone true.

(This is not to say that truth is never ugly).

That is, it is not only factually incorrect, from my point of view, it’s perverse! Even if it were true; if the God of the Bible were real, I could not worship Him. I could not praise a story that was so absurd, poisonous, and wretched. I see it very differently, apparently, than Christians do. But now not only do I not see the crucifixion as a sacrifice, but I see it as shockingly absurd. It is clear that my perspective has shifted on this issue, and it has happened over the last few years.

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Let me step back for a moment here, and catch my breath. See, Christianity was not always perverse to me. In fact, I used to find it sort of interesting, fascinating even. The narrative of the sacrificial son and the redemption was never actually inspiring, but I saw it as at least artful. What changed?

I’m not sure. This will have to remain a point for further thought, I think.

I would love to hear comments about how things such as this video could bee seen very differently by different people.