Not long ago, Christopher Hitchens—pugilistic author of God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything—sat down for an interview with retired Unitarian minister (and self-professed “liberal Christian”) Marilyn Sewell. It wasn’t the usual sort of conversation that Hitchens has with “believers,” since his preferred sparring partners tend to be religious conservatives and apologists for fundamentalism (such as Douglas Wilson).
Not surprisingly, early in the interview Hitchens was quick to announce who was a real Christian and who wasn’t, and to insinuate that Sewell fell into the latter camp; a comment that has inspired more than a few raised eyebrows among religious progressives.
But it’s easy to let Hitchens’ arrogance on this matter obscure some broader themes—and some surprising concessions on Hitchens’ part—that emerged in the course of the interview.
One of these themes has to do with just how much Hitchens and Sewell have in common. They agree that nonbelievers are just as capable as believers of acting morally. They agree that much wickedness has been done in the name of God. They share an aversion to claims at odds with science and reason. But what struck me the most as I read the interview was that they even shared an appreciation for “the transcendent” and “the numinous”: terms that Hitchens himself introduced into the conversation.
It wasn’t simply Hitchens’ invocation of these terms that caught my attention as I read the interview. After all, Hitchens has used them interchangeably before, especially the term “numinous” (coined by the Christian theologian Rudolph Otto as a name for the essential core of religious experience).
More to Life than Just Matter
In the acknowledgments section of God is not Great, for example, Hitchens attributes to Ian McEwan’s fiction “an extraordinary ability to elucidate the numinous without conceding anything to the supernatural.” Apparently finding this comment provocative, an interviewer for the SoMA Review asked Hitchens about it. His reply:
It’s innate in us to be overawed by certain moments, say, at evening on a mountaintop or sunset on the boundaries of the ocean. Or, in my case, looking through the Hubble telescope at those extraordinary pictures. We have a sense of awe and wonder at something beyond ourselves, and so we should, because our own lives are very transient and insignificant. That’s the numinous, and there’s enough wonder in the natural world without any resort to the supernatural being required.
Here, Hitchens seems to take “the numinous” to refer to nothing more than a feeling of awe or wonder, which according to Hitchens can (and should) be inspired by purely natural phenomena without any invocation of the supernatural. But in his interview with Sewell, Hitchens goes further. When asked to talk about it he replies that “everybody has had the experience at some point when they feel that there’s more to life than just matter.”
More to life than just matter? Is Hitchens really saying what he seems to be saying here—to wit, that “the numinous” refers to the sense that there’s something more to our existence than just the material world? Something… dare we call it… supernatural? Of course, Hitchens is quick to qualify this statement by insisting that “it’s very important to keep that under control and not to hand it over to be exploited by priests and shamans and rabbis and other riffraff.”
But, of course, there’s an enormous difference between saying that we can divorce the numinous (understood as a sense of awe) from the supernatural (understood as something transcending the material world), and saying that we can divorce the numinous (understood as a sense of contact with something transcending the natural world) from the hierarchy and dogma of traditional religious institutions. Hitchens’ earlier comments about the numinous seem to say the former, but this comment sounds much closer to the latter.
Unsurprisingly, Sewell points out that the feeling Hitchens calls numinous, “might be a religious impulse.” Hitchens says no, it’s a human impulse (as if these things were mutually exclusive). And he goes on to express his staunch opposition to “handing over that very important department of our psyche” to religious leaders. “I have no time to waste on this planet,” he says, “being told what to do by those who think that God has given them instructions.”
Sewell presses on, explaining why she finds a close alignment between the numinous in Hitchens’ sense and her own experience of religion. Moments later when asked about “the soul” (inspired by his oft-repeated claim that “literature, not scripture, sustains the mind and soul”) Hitchens responds:
It’s what you might call “the x-factor”—I don’t have a satisfactory term for it—it’s what I mean by the element of us that isn’t entirely materialistic: the numinous, the transcendent, the innocence of children (even though we know from Freud that childhood isn’t as innocent as all that), the existence of love (which is, likewise, unquantifiable but that anyone would be a fool who said it wasn’t a powerful force), and so forth. I don’t think the soul is immortal, or at least not immortal in individuals, but it may be immortal as an aspect of the human personality because when I talk about what literature nourishes, it would be silly of me or reductionist to say that it nourishes the brain.
Were he not so quick to follow up by deriding religion once again, one might take him here for a deeply religious man.
In some ways, the peculiar perspective on religion Hitchens expresses here is nothing new to me. In the course of writing Is God a Delusion?, I noticed that Hitchens has an almost knee-jerk tendency to immunize anything he admires from the “religion” label. He describes the faith of Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer—executed for resisting the Nazis—as “an admirable but nebulous humanism.” He says of Martin Luther King Jr. that “(i)n no real as opposed to nominal sense… was he a Christian.” As proof, he points out that King never suggested “that those who injured and reviled him were to be threatened with any revenge or punishment, in this world or the next.”
These observations led me to offer the following analysis:
Hitchens’ strategy seems to be this: if it is good, noble, or tends to inspire compassion, then it isn’t “religion.” It is “humanism” or something of the sort. With no clear definition to guide him, Hitchens is free to locate only what is cruel, callous, insipid, or banal in the camp of religion, while excluding anything that could reliably motivate the heroic moral action exemplified by Bonhoeffer and King. When “religion” is never defined, but in practice is treated so that only what is poisonous qualifies, it becomes trivially easy to conclude that “religion poisons everything.”
What I failed to ask then, however, was why Hitchens might come to use “religion” in such a peculiar (to me) way. The significance of this question only deepens when we see just how similar Hitchens’ and Sewell’s views are. In terms of their views about the shortcomings of religious institutions, the possibility of secular morality—even about the existence of something transcendent that invests our lives with a resonance and significance it might otherwise lack—the two are very much alike.
Tags: atheism, christopher hitchens, dietrich bonhoeffer, martin luther king, new atheists
The sustaining fact at the core of Christian faith for centuries has been the quiet individuals who were in touch with the subjective experience of the "numinous".
At various times in history, and especially in recent U.S. history, this core has been beset and overtaken by a parasite, which is the exploitation of faith for purposes of political power.
When this political definition of Christianity finally implodes from its own unsustainable level of preposterous assertions, the identity of Christianity with subjective personal experience will have some sense of validity.
Well said. You are entirely right about the attempted political exploitation of faith, and the sooner the political definition implodes the better. The political arrogance is entirely opposed to the message of the Gospel.
*At various times in history, and especially in recent U.S. history, this core has been beset and overtaken by a parasite, which is the exploitation of faith for purposes of political power.*
You or people like you have been saying that for about a century now. When's it finally, y'know, start *happening*?
"Unsurprisingly, Sewell points out that the feeling Hitchens calls numinous, “might be a religious impulse.” Hitchens says no, it’s a human impulse (as if these things were mutually exclusive)."
Bible writings say that we possess both an immortal spirit (metaphysical/God's image/aura, etc.) and a mortal soul (body).
They are not mutually exclusive.
animal = soul
human being = soul + spirit
Even though Adam was a primate (soul) in his first state, he gained this another essence that made him 'more than an animal'.
There's a difference between us and the other animals - and yes the difference is a supernatural one. How else do you explain the instinctive reaction of people when they're in dire trouble to 'call out for God's help'!
It could be a holdover from earlier exposure to religious training.
There is no instinctive reaction to call upon god--unless you already believe.
Last summer I was on a Dehavilland Dash duo-prop plane (maybe a 15-seater) flying out of upstate New York. We had to fly directly into a stormy cloudbank to get altitude. It was pretty rough: Plane bucking up and down, no horizon in sight, 8 AM but virtually pitch-black outside from the cloud cover.
I was physically uncomfortable and was certainly mentally thinking, "Wow, we could really be in trouble here." But I didn't call on god for help because, y'know, *I don't believe in him.*
At one point I turned to the young woman in the seat next to me. She was rocking back and forth, thumbing her prayer beads, pale as milk and visibly in a cold sweat.
It's an instinctive reaction in the face of extreme stress. If you had time to think, then you weren't under that kind of stress.
I think you are describing the separation of church and thought.
*It's an instinctive reaction in the face of extreme stress.*
No, it isn't. There is no such instinctive reaction at all.
*Bible writings say that we possess both an immortal spirit (metaphysical/God's image/aura, etc.) and a mortal soul (body).*
Why should I believe the bible?
*Even though Adam was a primate (soul) in his first state, he gained this another essence that made him 'more than an animal'.*
Prove it.
What I appreciated about this article was the author's humility. Let's name it. Theists can be arrogant.Atheists can be arrogant. I wish that those who think they are 100% right would repent and find a little more humility.
Indeed!
Feelingology
Can religion be nothing more than the experience of feelings of awe and wonder? That seems to be Reitan's position. Quite a broad one, seemingly. Maybe we are all religious after all. The questions of supernaturalism and superstitionism are then best left to the scientists to tease out, while we indulge in our Avatar experiences of drenching numinosity. Does that sound fair and square, and a proper final destination for liberal religion?
Going back to Hitchens, what he is against is falsity. He recognizes that people have feelings and some people have very intense experiences/feelings. Paul may very well have seen a Jesus hallucination. That doesn't drag in the rest of theology/chistology as being factual. This is why the retreat of Unitarians and other liberal religionists from fundamentalist dogma is very good and proper, and the clearer the distinction between real feelings and the false inferences derived from them, the better off we will all be.
"But these same institutions have also been, for many, the primary contact-point with the numinous—devoting resources to cultivating our capacity for reverential awe in the face of the wonders that surround us, and providing a ritual space within which the sense of the transcendent has been consciously cultivated. Theologians have meditated sincerely and with great critical rigor on the human condition and its relation to the transcendent."
This is a non sequitur. The capacity for reverential awe has no necessary connection with what theologians have been meditating about. It is like meditating on the easter bunny in response to the wonders of spring. Meditation in ignorance provides theology no authority.
"I don’t remember much about doctrine."
Precisely. So why write books about doctrine today? Why flog the dead horse of false theology to account for the true feelings of love and reverence? It makes no sense. Better to practice one's devotions in peace and study the brain if one wants to know what sparks numinosity (or the brain of James Cameron!).
The reason I agree with Hitchens's overall assessment of religion (though I find his disdainful attitude toward his putative inferiors more than annoying) is tnat religion, by design, consists in self-anointed sages claiming to know the unknowable. This is as true of a saintly grandfather who soothes a child's fear of death with the promise tht "God loves us too much to let us go" as it is of the vile televangelist who blames the endless and unredemptive suffering of the Haitian people on a 200 year old pact with the devil. A lie told to ease suffering is still a lie -- even if one is lying to oneself. In the end, this web of lies and self-deceits does poison the very thing it seeks to promote: an acknowledgement and appreciation of the unknowable qualities in human existence that elevate it above petty animal existence. Children grow up and realize that what a loving elder said to ease their hurts was simply not true -- or at least not knowable -- and they find they have wasted their lives holding onto false hopes rather than discovering that which makes us willing and able to live life to the fullest, however fleeting and painful it may be.
Through art and literature, through listening to and observing others' experiences of that which is greater than self, I can find what resonates with my own experience and intuition, while feeling no compulsion to give assent to the undemonstrable claims of the presumptious. To me, that is spirituality, which one American sage defined as "understanding and effectiveness." Nothing spooky about that.
that sounds about right! nicely done...
I don't know. Dawkins and Hitchens claim to know the unknowable. Their level of moral and metaphysical certitude is only exceeded by the likes of Pat Robertson.
The "saintly grandfather" example you mention ain't got nothin' on them.
Hi, everyone. I'm new here.
Nice piece. I think the comparison between Sewell and Hitchens helps us consider how it may simply be a matter of temperament - which I think really does reduce to neurophysiology - whether the feelings of wonder and awe are associated with the idea of 'supernatural' or not.
Every religion has a wide spectrum of adherents; from those who swallow dogma whole and tend to conform, to those who see every word and ritual as metaphor - and everything in between. Reitan's piece reminds us (well, me) that our definitions for religion (which relate to our temperament, and what resonates with us individually) sit at the heart of religious debates.
People have long been dealing with these religious feelings, but meanwhile the facts on the ground are evolving. Whatever people think about religion, the majority religion in America formed an alliance with the party of the rich, and the vanity of Christianity linked to the greed of the Republicans and brought preemptive war, and encouraged others to continue war to inflict more damage, and backed it up with torture. American Christianity has rejected evolution, and through those circular debates they have rejected science, and the sad fact is rejecting science is probably the same thing as rejecting God, when all is said and done. America has come up with their Left Behind doctrine which has people thinking the world must be destroyed (hopefully in our lifetime) and all the other non-believers must suffer. They retreat into religion to avoid looking at the consequences of these beliefs and to feel better about themselves and their group. After we solve these problems, then we will be in a better position to relax and enjoy the feel good parts of our religions.
that only exists in the minds of believers. The view that Hitchens expressed are not heretical or even that uncommon among the 'New Atheist' community. As Dawkins puts it:
"Let me sum up Einsteinian religion in one more quotation from Einstein himself: 'To sense that behind anything that can be experi- enced there is a something that our mind cannot grasp and whose beauty and sublimity reaches us only indirectly and as a feeble reflection, this is religiousness. In this sense I am religious.' In this sense I too am religious, with the reservation that 'cannot grasp' does not have to mean 'forever ungraspable'. But I prefer not to call myself religious because it is misleading. It is destructively mis- leading because, for the vast majority of people, 'religion' implies 'supernatural'."
As I understand, Harris goes even further, to the point of outright mysticism. The fact that you consider this a novel development speaks more to your knowledge of atheism than anything else.
Having written about Dawkins' treatment of what he calls "Einsteinian religion" in my book (and having seen how the "Four Horsemen" discuss the numinous in their panel discussion), I am well aware that recognition of feelings of awe and wonder in the face of a mysterious reality (feelings which some call "religious") is nothing new to Dawkins.
But Dawkins' understanding of these feelings is shaped by his staunch opposition to "God, all gods, anything and everything supernatural." For Dawkins, this feeling is understood as nothing more than a psychological response to a vast natural world whose mysteries have yet to be uncovered, and in this sense is wholly in tune with Hitchens' definition of "the numinous" offered in the SoMA interview.
What is striking about the interview with Sewell is Hitchens' willingness to describe the numinous as a sense that there is more to reality than the material world studied by science. At least if we take Hitchens at his word here, he is wandering into territory that Dawkins (and Dennett) staunchly resist.
As for Harris, his "spiritualism" is wedded to a strict introspective empiricism--that is, it is simply about describing the contents of consciousness as they appear when we introspect. His embrace of the Buddhist "no-self" doctrine is a product of this empiricism: he doesn't DISCOVER a self on introspection. Not only am I suspicious of Harris's "descriptive" project (I suspect his account of what he finds is shaped by prior expectations), but I am bothered by Harris's failure to seriously consider the possibility that the contents of consciousness might be best interpreted by POSITING a unified spiritual "self" inaccessible to direct introspective investigation. Again, this is something I explore at some length in my book--and I do, in fact, accuse Harris of a kind of dogmatism that limits his willingness to acknowledge alternative interpretive possibilities. The dogma isn't identical to Dawkins', but it's in the same family.
Would it be accessible to scientific investigation, either direct or indirect? It should be subject to some kind of investigation, because if it isn't it probably doesn't exist.
*...but I am bothered by Harris's failure to seriously consider the possibility that the contents of consciousness might be best interpreted by POSITING a unified spiritual "self" inaccessible to direct introspective investigation.*
I'm not bothered by it all because, as a neuroscientist like me, Harris' beliefs are pretty much entirely congruent with what neuroscience shows us: That the mind is the brain, pure and simple. The mind is not "full of mystery": It's more and more explicable as brain function. Emotion, language, memory, love: They're all in there, observable on PET scans. 240 seconds of oxygen deprivation to the brain is enough to irretrievablly wipe the slate clean (or, more accurately, to smash the slate into 100-some pieces).
So no, it doesn't look good for an 'immortal soul' at all. At least not one that, as Harris says, "Speaks English, feels love, and recognizes grandma."
What is striking about the interview with Sewell is Hitchens' willingness to describe the numinous as a sense that there is more to reality than the material world studied by science. At least if we take Hitchens at his word here, he is wandering into territory that Dawkins (and Dennett) staunchly resist.
A sense is a feeling, or a psychological response. He's on the same page as Dawkins. You are attempting to manufacture a conflict where none exists.
What an irony! For decades now churches have been falling all over themselves to avoid everything numinous, transcendent and mystical in order to appeal to what used to be called "Modern Secular Man." And now Modern Secular Man is questing for the numinous.
Religion has the machinery to produce the mystical/aesthetic experience people are after. But all that will be lost--all the liturgy, architecture, music and fancy silverware--because eco-spirituality will triumph, people will pay to see Avatar and preserve the environment and the fancy churches, services and high art that reliably produce mystical/aesthetic experience will become ruins.
Perhaps human history is the process of recognizing and ultimately eliminating false religions.
True or false isn't the issue. You can use the stuff of religion to get the numinous/mystical experience and believe what you please--just as you can enjoy natural beauty and believe what you please. There is interesting conceptual machinery: theology. And it's fun to crank the wheels and see which gears turn. Maybe you believe it, maybe you don't. Theology is just interesting to play with, and that's an extra. No one is making you believe anything.
My point is just that if the fancy buildings and elaborate rituals disappear we'll have lost something that effectively and reliably induces aesthetic and mystical experience. And that's a loss whichever way you cut the cake. Maybe what I'm talking about isn't religion as such--it's controversial what counts as religion--but churchiness. Churchiness is fun, and it induces intensely pleasurable experiences. If it's lost there is just that much less occasion for pleasure.
I guess you are right. I shouldn't have used the word false. I should have said...
Perhaps human history is the process of recognizing and ultimately eliminating religions.
When churchiness becomes too pleasurable, people tend to start taking it too seriously. Aesthetic and mystical experience can have both a positive and a negative side, so we must always remember to do a scientific analysis and not just take what seems to be fun at face value. Opening our eyes can be painful, and out in the real world there seems to be a great resistance, so once again I am thankful for finding RD where these things can be looked at.
When churchiness becomes too pleasurable, people tend to start taking it too seriously.
Evidence or argument for this? Is there evidence that the people who enjoy churchiness the most, the aesthetes and high church junkies, are especially likely to take it "too seriously" in the sense of being puritans or bigots or political conservatives or Creationists? From what I've seen quite the reverse. It's the people who don't like churchiness, but evangelicals who go to crappy, ugly evangelical churches and sit through long, boring sermons out of fear, guilt or a sense of duty and couldn't even imagine churchiness as a pleasure who are most likely to take it "too seriously" in that sense.
I suppose we should do a scientific analysis of what seems to be fun at face value. It could be that such an analysis would show that some of the really fun things, like the more popular recreational drugs, are really dangerous. But no scientific study has shown that these drugs dangerous, or at least so dangerous that the danger outweighs the fun of taking them. And as far as I know no scientific study has shown (or is likely to show) that churchiness is dangerous.
I am in any case a hedonist so I'd like to see recreational drugs legalized and readily available and churchiness pervasive and readily available in order to maximize pleasure.
There is a lot of crime associated with recreational drugs, and it is sad because it would be so easy for the government to wean the population off of these drugs and run off the suppliers and put the cartels out of business, if they had the political will.
IF THESE DRUGS WEREN'T ILLEGAL THERE WOULDN'T BE A LOT OF CRIME ASSOCIATED WITH THEM!!! They would be produced and sold by legitimate businesses and taxed. It would not be easy for government to "wean" people from these drugs because they are enormous fun. If you want to put the cartels out of business, legalize recreational drugs.
True, but you wouldn't have to legalize them. All you have to do is sell them. The government could go to a coca growing area and offer to buy all of the crops for the next 25 years at a price a little above the price paid by the drug cartels. Then sell the drug in government run stores at a price under the current street price. Let people know if they buy in small quantities from the government store, they won't come after them, but if they buy anywhere else they will be arrested. People would buy from the government because it is cheaper and they won't get in trouble. The illegal trade would go away, and then start raising the prices to encourage people to stop. When you raise the price too high and the illegal drugs start returning, drop the prices again. Use the profits for enforcement and education. Make the same kind of deal with the farmers in Afganistan. The poor farmers are helped because they have more stable profits without threat of the government burning their crops. The people are helped because high prices encourage them to quit, and there is no temptation of illegal drugs on the street. Law enforcement is helped because they have the money to do a good job. The cartels and drug dealers disappear because they have no more source of income.
It sounds a little unusual, but it would work. Keep the drugs illegal, but have the government process and sell them, and ultimately the goal is to kill the demand and shut down the program.
A government monopoloy would be interesting, and I'm all for the state owning means of production, but why not legalize? Surely there would be at least as much political resistance to this kind of program than there would be to legalizing the production and sale of recreational drugs by private entrepreneurs. And I'm not clear how government monopoly without legalization would work: would the government sell its product through front organizations or what? What's the point? You could certainly legalize but sell drugs through state stores--I think this is the way alcohol is sold in some states.
I live near the Mexican border, where there's a drug war in progress over the biggest local import--plain old marijuana. The US government, by its policy of criminalizing the use of a pretty innocuous substance, is responsible for widespread violence and death and the collapse of the local Mexican tourist industry. How do you persuade Americans that this nightmare just isn't worth it?
You don't legalize it so that you can stop others from producing and selling it, and so that you can manipulate the price, drop it to keep out illegal drugs, and then raise it to discourage use. The profits will make this program self funding. The marijuana problem could be solved by letting California supply the nation, and keeping the Mexican product illegal. When their profits dry up crime south of the border will decrease. Coming up with solutions is easy, but I have no idea how to persuade Americans or their politicians.
I think this counts as legalization. You're just mandating a state monopoly which is fine. Here in California there is likely to be a referendum on legalization at the next election so it should be interesting to see how the campaign goes: it should be quite a circus. I don't understand what goes on in people's heads. I suspect they're opposed to legalization because they have nightmare visions of their kids getting stoned and not doing their algebra homework.
Or the nightmare visions might be about having to face being wrong, and that gets us back to religion. They have to strain hard to hold it together, or there will be a cascade of mistakes. Wrong on evolution, wrong on rapture, misguided on linking up with the party of the rich and not doing much to oppose war and torture and letting the rich take advantage of the have less and have nots, wrong on a wide range of social issues, and maybe even wrong on the war on drugs. Where will they be able to hold the line? They shouldn't have started taking their religion so seriously, at least in my opinion.
Whoa! Only about 1/3 of Americans identify themselves as evangelical or born again. Most Americans don't reject evolution much less believe in the Rapture, or even know what it is. If it were only this 1/3 of fundies who opposed legalization there wouldn't be a problem.
As far as religion goes, the mistake is imagining that it's primarily a code of conduct and, in particular, a very conservative code of conduct. NOT. Religion is primarily a package of metaphysical claims, about the existence of a supernatural being, and rituals. You can be a religious person, indeed a Christian, without buying into any of the ethics. The Creed doesn't say anything about how you should behave.
I take religion very seriously indeed. I buy the metaphysical claims. But I don't give any credence whatsoever to the idiotic, puritanical ethic with which they've been associated. So, in my experience, do lots of others. I like religion and I like drugs for the very same reason: they're fun. Religion is the opiate of the people: good!
Many Republicans don't want unnecessary war, and they don't want to risk the environment or nation's economy or health care on money making schemes, but they are a party and they understand the importance of sticking together. Their approach is I will support your weapons production profits if you support my insurance schemes. I will support you oil games if you support my banking and investment scams. If we stay united we can all profit in our own way, but if we are divided we will fall because there is just too much corruption.
In a small way the Christian religion has become like that. Many are no longer convinced of creationism, but they won't openly question or express belief in evolution for the sake of their Christian brothers. Many don't really favor the Left Behind empire, but they won't tear it down or accuse the supporters of favoring war and destruction. They want to stick together as Christian brothers and fight to convince the rest of the world.
Christianity as a whole must make a choice. Was the Left Behind philosophy a mistake that has led people to encourage war, and be more accepting of the results such as torture? Was it a mistake to give support, or at least not resist other Christians who think God is revealing things to them that override scientific evidence, even as those beliefs are leading to political and moral disaster? Will Christianity side with the fundamentalists or with the non-believers on these most important issues.
*Churchiness is fun...*
No it isn't.
*...and it induces intensely pleasurable experiences.*
No it doesn't.
*If it's lost there is just that much less occasion for pleasure.*
I think I spend my Sundays differently than you do.
So? It's not to your taste, so you're missing out on a certain kind of pleasure. I don't like watching sports. Lots of people enjoy it and I would be better off if I could too because the more pleasures to which we have access the better. Different people have different tastes so to maximize overall pleasure we want as many occasions for pleasure as possible--sports, church, drugs, whatever turns you on.
People think it is fun to go to church and believe in the end times, but there will be a price to pay. If they do reach the end times, the congregation will discover it is not really the end, just another round of suffering, and they will have no way of escape. It will not seem so much fun then.
I keep wondering where these people who believe in end times and other weird stuff are. And I certainly don't imagine that believing in the Rapture or buying into the idiotic ethics these looneys promote is fun. The majority of Christians in the world, and even in the US, are not evangelicals, born-agains or fundamentalists. Why this identification of Christianity with boring, ugly, stupid white trash evangelicalism?
Because that is my reality. My family attends a conservative church, and although they don't push creationism in my presence, they won't admit Darwin was right in his description of the tree of inheritance between all species. They don't push Left Behindism, but they can't see any problem with it and when pressed hard enough they will eventually say in the end they WILL get rapture and we others will be left behind and then we will know they were right.
You are lucky to be from San Diego where things are not as conservative as northeast Florida. But the family I left behind in California is the same, they all go along to some extent with the conservative rapture and creationism views even when they know there are problems with it. They are skilled at avoiding discussions that might make them face the problems. I know people here on RD think differently, but in my world people think conservative, and they have done a great job of sticking together and electing politicians recommended in their churches. I am trying to work through these issues in some way besides just closing my eyes.
Not my reality, being older and coming from back east. People I knew were liberal mainline Protestant, Catholic or Jewish. We thought fundamentalists were an exotic, extinct species. It never even occurred to me, or anyone else I grew up with, that there were people who didn't believe in evolution. Everyone was church affiliated but it didn't mean any of the things it seems to mean now.
I appreciate what it means to work through these issues at a time when things are quite different. I'm amazed, and depressed, at how different things have become. Good luck.
I'm 60, and I grew up in California. People I knew were liberal mainline Protestant, Catholic or Jewish. Fundamentalists were rare and of no political consequence. Evolution was not an issue because we were confident the schools were honest in teaching science, and people had the right to disagree in the privacy of their own homes. Everyone was church affiliated but it didn't mean any of the things it seems to mean now.
I too am amazed at how different things have become, but people focus on the groupthink of their choice and all these other issues are ignored.
The depressing thing is that it looks like we've gone past the tipping point. Christianity, and "organized religion" generally, is now so firmly associated with evangelicalism, with puritanical ethics, conservative politics, and crazy anti-scientific views, that no reasonable person sees it as a serious option. And it's become so stripped of aesthetic content that no one interested in "spirituality" is attracted.
The churches will die, the buildings will be sold off to make themed-restaurants and condos, the myths and ceremonies will be forgotten--all that beautiful stuff will be lost. All that cultural richness will be replaced by adolescent romanticism and vague nature worship--without high art, without the beauty and drama of the Christian myths, without the gorgeous ceremonies, without the glorious architecture. yada-yada-yada. In fact it's already for all practical purposes gone and that's a terrific loss.
This only affects the US. Religion in Europe is still in good shape. The tipping has been reached, but that might not be the end. If you look at the history of Chritianity, tipping points always lead to splits. Progressive Christianity will eventually see the ship is sinking, and make the split, and tell the world their Chritianity has nothing to do with the fundamentalist evangelical version of Christianity. Their Christianity is in good shape, just like the Europeans. They might not have enough money to buy all those buildings, but is would have to be another discussion about if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
Are you kidding? Christianity is almost dead in Western Europe. As far as "progressive Christianity" goes the split has already been made and no one notices. The Episcopal Church blesses same-sex unions, ordains openly non-celibate gays and lesbians, and has never looked forward to the Rapture or denied evolution. But no one notices because it, along with other mainline churches, has become invisible. The public face of Christianity in the US is generic evangelicalism.
What would a "split" consist of anyway? As far as I know most mainline Christians detest fundmentalists and repudiate all their idiotic nonsense. But the public doesn't notice.
I guess that is the problem. They need to figure out something to do that we will notice.
All that cultural richness will be replaced by adolescent romanticism and vague nature worship--without high art, without the beauty and drama of the Christian myths, without the gorgeous ceremonies, without the glorious architecture.
One of the ugly habits of some parts of Christianity is to put down other people's faith practices as inferior. It is, I'm guessing, one of the things driving people away from the church. So, maybe you could be a little more respectful in your appraisal of other faiths? I'm guessing that you don't like it when atheists dismiss religion as an assortment of empty, superstitious myths, right?
So says Feynman. And I believe every word of it. I am an atheist, not a "New Atheist". I am also a snow skier. There is nothing like getting off the lift at the top of a mountain and gliding over to the fence line to look out over the canyon, surrounded by other mountains, and just standing there, just looking. As much as I want to tackle that slope, I must stop and take in that view for a moment or two, nothing like it. To understand how it was created, the time it took, the time. That is what most people do not consider, the time. The awe of it is addictive.
We are all made of stars. Understand the universe, and one will understand one's place in it. Freeman Dyson once said that "the universe knew we were coming." Clever, but I don't believe that for a second. Humans are but a freak of nature that never should have happened. Too many neurons cause us to make too many associations in our mind about the things we observe around us. Our brains cannot digest all of those links. The worst of those are the ego and the fear of death. So we look outward to a man-made deity for instructions. One that tells us we are special, the chosen, the ones who will live forever. Then we battle over who’s deity is best.
It is only the acceptance of mortality that makes one behave in a civil and kind manner. And for me, it is that very knowledge that creates the numinous feeling while standing at the fence line. This is my moment, it may not happen again, and it definitely will not be available forever. This is it. This right here is your only shot. Make what you want of this life for it is your only time. It is not complicated. It is simple.
I understand Hitchens’ anger. He is a brilliant man who has had a life I envy, but I do not envy his attitude. I read his books and smile while thinking to myself “Poor Christopher.”
I am a New Atheist. I read Hitchens, smile and think to myself, "GO Christopher!"
Yes, there are many atheists who are strongly anti-religion but a large number of religious people don't exactly treat atheists with kid gloves.
I'm guessing that at least some of you are familiar with research conducted at the University of Minnesota which found that atheists are seen less favorably that even LGBT people and Muslims? A whopping 39.6% of those surveyed felt that atheists do not agree with their vision of American society. Compare this to 26.3% against Muslims, 22.6% against homosexuals, and 13.5% against conservative Christians. Nearly half (47.6%) of those surveyed said they would disapprove of a child marrying an atheist—higher than than those objecting to a child marrying a Muslim (33.5%), African-American (27.2%), Jewish person (18.5%), or conservative Christian (6.9%).
Let's face the truth, here. Atheists and agnostics are a minority, comprising about 1.6% of the US populace. Those claiming no adherence to a religion are about 15% of the populace. Unfortunately, human beings tend not to treat minorities of any kind very well. The attitudes reflected in the survey by the U of MN confirm that the poor treatment of atheists by the religious is a likely outcome.
I think there needs to be some kind of awareness on the part of US Christians that being a member of the super-majority (76%) comes with a far greater degree of access to power and privilege than non-believers. The effects of that kind of power imbalance can generate a lot of resentment in any minority group—not just atheists.
So, yes, there are quite a few atheists who see religion in a really negative way. Go figure. There are quite a few LGBT folk who see non-LGBT folk in a negative way. There are quite a few ethnic minorities who see European-Americans in a negative way. There's a pattern, here.
As personal experience goes, I certainly remember my family's reaction when I came out as an atheist. Let's just say it wasn't very positive or accepting and was compounded by their religious views of LGBT people. It has taken me well over a decade to heal from that rejection. Did I go through a period of seeing religion as the seat of evil? You bet. Nevertheless, I've grown as the years have past. I've put a lot of effort into working past my prejudice against religion, but it has been no small task to accomplish while living in a society that often labels non-believers as deranged, amoral creatures.
My advice to the religious people reading this is to actively engage in positive outreach toward the non-religious. Of course, I'm not talking about conversion of the other person's belief systems. I'm talking about looking for common ground and building alliances based upon that common ground. I've noticed that the people at this website are a fairly progressive group of people and you seem to seem to share a degree of concern regarding dogmatic, conservative systems of faith. Well, I can assure you that there is a significant number of atheists, agnostics, and other non-believers who share your concern. Also, unless I'm mistaken, the Religious Right tends to label both progressive people of faith and the non-religious as demented, amoral people. So, there is certainly room for an alliance to form, if people are willing to push past the traditional boundaries that separate believer from non-believer... and as the featured article implies, we may find that we share more in common that we thought.
So, who here would like to break bread with others of my kind? Any takers? ;-)
References:
U of MN survey
Religious Demographics of US
It's not just a perception: Religion really IS the seat of evil. It is confirmed for me every single day in the newspaper.
My father was open to evolution; he knew that was the way the world took form, but we were taught not upset the fundamentalists (Jewish and Christian). Fundamentalism was always in the immediate background.
I am 67-years-old. I am sick to death of Christian fundamentalists—their arrogance, their meanness, their brain dead response to every intellectual enterprise, and their vicious need to define all boundaries.
I appreciate Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, and Sam Harris. No matter how much they might go overboard, the fundamentalists deserve them.
For the life of me, I see no reason to avow theism as essential to Christianity. I see no reason to give any credit to the fundamentalists.
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