Rape As Metaphor: Going Too Far? [Rated R]

Trivializing that which should never be trivialized is always a risky business. It would certainly be unwise to minimize something so ominous, so treacherous, as rape. In fact, to do so would be a kind of ‘crime’ in and of itself.

As writers we often use metaphors to help us tell our stories. A timely metaphor can transport a reader from a place he may not be familiar with to a place he instantly recognizes; or it can move one to imagine what he believes about one place and transpose those beliefs to another setting entirely. The possibilities with metaphor are endless.

Yet every now and again we come across a situation where our instinct to proceed is put in check, hindered by the very same sensibilities that urge us on. While it is only natural to have one’s creative impulses challenged from time to time, when these challenges take the form of suggestions that we censor ourselves, we are compelled to resist. Not because we are righteous, but because we respect what is good and virtuous about freedom and the creative process. The call to censor an idea simply to avoid offending a social or political constituency is not, as a rule, a good idea.

If I were to encounter criticism from feminists saying I could not know the pain of rape and that it would not be appropriate for me to compare childhood religious indoctrination with the crime of rape, my response would be (1) as a metaphor it is valid; (2) as a writer I must value the freedom to explore ideas above the feelings of those I might offend, as long as my disregard is measured and not wanton or reckless; and (3) as an ‘honorary’ male feminist myself, I would never betray the cause of feminism by committing the aforementioned crime of trivializing sexual assault.

The Rape of a Young Mind

My indoctrination into the world of religion was begun in earnest at the age of approximately 30 days with my baptism into the Catholic faith. As I was too young to speak for myself, I was unable to voice my opinion on the matter. From as early as I can remember, the concept of an all-knowing, all-powerful god-being lording over the universe was becoming the centerpiece of a well orchestrated assault on my intellect and my psyche. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, of course, but that was part of the nefarious allure of being captivated by these clever adult authority figures. As children, we relied on them for sustenance and approval, yet subtly—and disgustingly—their approval came at a price: conformity. These parents, guardians and administrators wielded so much power over their child minions, they could even engineer the conformity they demanded should they be met with a disagreeable or non-conforming expression.

Quite honestly, I sensed the inviolability of the intellect early on in life. There was something suspicious about having ideas beyond my ability to negotiate or comprehend ritualistically shoved down my throat. The reason for this ritual assault, no doubt, was to win my loyalty so I could serve my masters and propagate the planet with yet more inauthentic Christians. It reminds me of the “fruit from the poisonous tree” doctrine in legal circles. If one aspect of gathered evidence is deemed defective, hence inadmissible, then any evidence, or fruit, arising out of that tainted tree of evidence is also deemed inadmissible. Clearly, the entire enterprise of childhood religious indoctrination is morally corrupt. As such, these memberships in the Church are tainted as fruit from the poisonous process that made them so-called Christians in the first place. Many of these children are not freely and voluntarily who they say they are. They are automatons, bent on pleasing those who would dare to withhold their affections if their children did not abide by their dictates.

Several important things about this process give validity to the rape metaphor, and one in particular is especially instructive: the feeling of survival and recovery that time, distance and perspective gives to those of us who have managed to get past our cruel experiences. One continually recurring theme throughout my early years of counseling and therapy was the religious exploitation of my youth. The secular, human, and liberal values I later gravitated toward gave me a taste of the kind of intellectual freedom I instinctively knew had been missing; and because of this, I came to despise—for a very long time—those who conspired to deny me this freedom. Just as the body was meant to be free, so too were the mind and spirit meant to be free.

The first thing that happens before a person is raped is that his movements are restricted—arms and legs often restrained by being bound together. When a mind is about to be raped, access to rational, thought-provoking literature is restricted, intelligent books and periodicals bound together and thrown into the garbage as if they were evil influences. In a physical rape, the bodily orifices are violated by a sick and twisted human being who has lost his way. In the metaphorical mind fuck that is religious indoctrination of the very young, the orifice of the intellect is penetrated by the protruding ‘penis’ of a mindlessly imbecilic and fatuous dogma. In each assault the aggressor leaves his mark as a token of his narcissistic triumph, a sample with which to soil and taint his victim. After a real rape, it sometimes takes many years for victims to acknowledge their assault and get the help they need to work through all the painful emotions standing in the way of love, laughter and living well again. Amazingly, the virtual victim of the metaphorical religious rape has a similar journey to take. He must also come to terms with his transgressors, in order that he might find peace and live a full and rewarding life.

Ultimately, I am a writer—not a victim of rape. But when I told my therapist not long ago “it felt like my mind and my spirit were raped as a young child,” I was calling upon the powers of the imagination to conjure the vile essence of an actual rape, then—metaphorically—substituted mind for body. She understood completely and a door was opened. Along this path were many dark detours, but eventually they always led to wonderful places—places where understanding and forgiveness stood a much better chance of realizing their healing potential.

To rape victims everywhere: yours is a pain like no other, never to be trivialized. To the writers of the world: do justice to your metaphors, because every once in a while you may be asked to rationalize your use of one. ▪

"Religulous": Easy Pickins

Movie Review: "Religulous"

Written by Bill Maher

Directed by Larry Charles

Released in 2008

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Ever since AT&T tricked us into buying their premium TV package we've been getting all the HBO channels, and one of the best things on HBO is Real Time with Bill Maher. A few things about Maher's show I find very enjoyable: 1. he makes fun of conservatives; 2. he makes fun of religion; and 3. he does it all while dropping the occasional "f" bomb, which relieves my occasionally boiling psyche like nothing else.

Maher also wrote and produced the 2008 documentary film, Religulous. (See the 2-minute trailer.) The title of the film, cleverly, is derived from a combination of the words "religion" and "ridiculous", a word scheme known as a portmanteau. Religulous (See the full movie; 1 hr. 41 min.) is right up this irreverent comedian's alley. Maher tries to sit down and talk seriously about many of the teachings of the world's great religions with a number of their sycophants, but he can't keep himself from descending into sarcastic sniping and pot shot humor; after all it's who he is and what he does. He's so good at it in fact, more often than not those he interviews are made to look like idiots. Of course most of Maher's audience believes these interviewees to be total idiots to begin with, so it works out just fine. What makes these defenders of faith appear so pathetic is their dead pan seriousness in the face of Maher's dead pan humor, each incredulously bug-eyed as to the other's seemingly incomprehensible point of view.

From one encounter to the next, we are left snickering at the religulous and their preposterous utterances. When US Sen. Mark Pryor is asked to point out some of the benefits of religion, he notes that long ago primitive cultures were constantly at war. Yes, he really makes the blunder of suggesting that religion and modernism have made a positive impact on this front, and right on cue the producers fill the screen with scenes of Sen. Pryor's progress: bombs, missiles, tanks and warships—in all their modern, resplendent and exploding glory. Then there's the rotund, religious artifact salesperson who gives us as proof that miracles exist the story of the time he needed some water, so he got a glass, stuck his hand out the window and noted that it started to rain. A rather pathetic miracle. Now if it had rained frogs, as Maher suggests, he might have had a point.

Maher spends a lot of time taking aim at easy targets: the virgin birth of Mary, the resurrection of Jesus, Jonah surviving inside that whale, the earth being 6,000 years old, humans coexisting with dinosaurs, etc., etc., etc. He's not exactly looking for defenders of St. Thomas Aquinas and his five proofs for the existence of God so he can engage in high-brow philosophical debates. That would require real work. Instead, he has devised a product that needs no instruction manual and virtually sells itself: a religious bullshit detector in the form of an easy-to-open, watch-it-right-on-your-computer, two-beverage movie. It's not exactly Avatar 3-D, but for some of us it's a thrill nonetheless.

Religulous may not be the greatest movie as documentaries go, but it is smart and funny; it shifts, overlaps, and interjects scenes to great effect; and it moves right along. It also capitalizes in a very timely way on the growing acceptance of atheism, enhancing its cachet along the way. Much of the criticism aimed at religion in the movie is simplistic but effective. And for all its lack of nuance, Religulous nonetheless drives home the point that religions teach some pretty weird things, and put into positions of authority and representation some fairly unsophisticated people.

Religulous may be preaching to the proverbial choir, but to its credit there's at least a little something being offered up as food for thought: Is religion a benign contrivance that stands up to the normative powers of reason, or is it intellectually nescient and ultimately nihilistic, and as such, does it represent a grave threat to our very survival? In Religulous Bill Maher tells us where he stands, and has the cojones to ask us where we stand.

Mr. Dennett's Proposal

The philosopher Daniel Dennett has many insights to offer about evolution, consciousness, religion and atheism. One idea he proposes has a slightly radical feel to it at first blush. Dennett believes the world's major religions should be taught—in a "fact-based" manner—to all children in primary and secondary schools, both public and private, as well as to those who are home schooled.

Dennett says children need to learn as much as they can about the world's religions so they can better understand the role they have played in shaping our culture. By learning about the "history, creeds, texts, music, prohibitions and requirements" of the world's most prominent religions, Dennett believes children can construct a firm foundation for making informed decisions later in life. Says Dennett, "Religions are an important natural phenomenon that should be studied with the same intensity we study all the other natural phenomena."

Parents, Dennett reminds us, do not own their children; they are their stewards. As such, they have a responsibility to broaden their children's horizons and not simply indoctrinate them in the ways of one specific religious faith. This is problematic for many parents, who believe they have the right to do precisely that.

I believe Dennett may be onto something worthwhile, especially if teaching about the practice of non-belief is included, which Dennett suggests should be. Hard as it may be for those who insist they have a right to raise their children in the "one true faith," which is invariably the one they practice, the intellectual nourishment of children would be greatly served if they learned about all religions as well as non-belief. Also, educating children in some small way about the Bible, as literature, would no doubt diversify a child's intellectual portfolio.

In his article/blog post Teach Our Children Well, (The Washing Post, On Faith, March 8, 2007) Dennett lays out his case for teaching a comparative religious studies program to children. There is a lively discussion in the attached thread from many perspectives. He writes extensively on the subject in his 2006 book, Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon.

By advocating the scientific study of religion as a 'natural phenomenon,' Dennett seems to both acknowledge its staying power as well as put his own interpretational stamp on the whole concept of religiosity itself. It is likely an interpretation, however, that doesn't sit well with those unwilling to see their faith as anything but divinely inspired.

The idealism of Dennett's proposal notwithstanding, having young minds examine religion as a cultural phenomenon sounds like a good idea.

Belief in a God: The Height of Inanity

It came to my attention the other day that the popular definition of the word inane has evolved over the years. Originally it meant empty, void, or insubstantial, e.g., the vast and inane reaches of outer space. Today it more often means asinine, pointless, or devoid of intelligence. It occurs to me that either definition works just fine to describe the phenomenon of belief in a supernatural being as lord of the universe.

All manner of philosophers, scientists and historians have attempted to explain why it is man appears so predisposed to religious belief. (Recent archeological finds in Turkey have unearthed what appear to be temples predating the Great Pyramids by thousands of years. These findings seem to indicate that before building any other kinds of structures, man built houses of worship! History In the Remaking, Patrick Symmes, Newsweek, Feb. 19, 2010) It has been said that more than ninety percent of the world's population believe in a god. Can that many people be deluded? The short answer is yes.

No matter which side of the faith/reason, theist/atheist debate one finds himself, it is generally accepted there is no rational justification for religious belief. That many theists will nonetheless lay claim to the existence of a god being logical or intelligent is both unimpressive and beside the point. It is much easier to respect someone who makes a leap of faith in the absence of evidence or reason than it is to respect someone who rationalizes his faith with nescient intellectualism.

As the irascible Bill Maher might ask, What's so difficult about saying 'I don't know?' Whatever it is that makes this modest concession so painful to articulate, it plainly has the power to sustain people's delusions. It matters not that the more temperate among believers—however few they are—might be a force for civility; they are nonetheless complicit in the crimes of the intemperate by advancing their most fundamental claims. In short, moderately religiously people have elevated irrationality to a respected art form. It really is a neat trick.

Will the next millennium bring with it a new Age of Enlightenment? One can hope, but evidence both affirming and denying this possibility is strong. On the one hand, atheism—characterized mainly by its reliance upon rational thinking—is now seen as less a taboo and more an acceptable and popular worldview than ever before; on the other hand, religious fundamentalists of all stripes are not going quietly into the night—to say nothing of the nihilistic extremists they spawn.

Religious faith is not likely to disappear any time soon, if ever. Perhaps it is not necessary that it does. What is necessary, however, is that those who do have such beliefs practice their faith without injecting it into the social machinery that must be acknowledged by everyone, most notably government.

Believing in a supernatural god—there may be no greater manifestation of the inane.

Tradition—The Emptiest of All Reasons

Aside from the more dogmatic proponents of religious faith who not only openly advocate for a Christian theocracy in America, but who also subscribe to every tenet of their faith, there are many who seem less rigid, almost innocuous, in the way they live out their faith. When pressed, however, they are quick to affirm their belief in God out of what appears to be little more than a sense of tradition.

It is a fair bet that many Catholics don't really believe the host they consume during the communion ritual is in fact the body of Jesus Christ as church doctrine tells them, or that Jesus was actually born of a virgin. To these softer theists, a less rigid faith conspires with the institutions of family, community and ritual to provide a sense of comfort and belonging—a place where family and friends can gather and commemorate the milestones of life. In and of itself, this seems a harmless practice.

Going along to get along, and not wanting to rock the religious boat that keeps afloat one's sense of belonging is not without consequence, however. Blindly affirming the legacy of religious conformity at the expense of one's uniqueness is a compromise of abhorrent dimensions. This assumes, of course, that there is some semblance of intellectual autonomy left at all after being subjected to the immoral practice of religious indoctrination in the first place.

The marginalizing—and alienating—of anyone with a potentially dissenting mindset in the midst of religiously conforming family and friends is a vile practice carried on without subtlety. To be fair, acceptance is much more likely and evident from the younger, more liberal-minded among them. But still, these are often the same people who seem to consent to religiosity out of little more than a sense of duty or obligation, as though the mere appearance of rejecting their religious heritage would be construed as an act of betrayal.

For myself, I don't see the sense in perpetuating the cruel hoax that is organized religion and will not be a part of it. That being said, there's just as little to be gained by engaging in mere mockery. But when an honest attempt to respectfully partake of a religious tradition is met with alienation and rejection, it's time to ask myself, Is this worth it?

I played religious charades for years. Not any more. Not when my self respect in on the line.

Joel Osteen: Closet Atheist?

The amazing popularity of mega-pastor Joel Osteen of Lakewood Church in Houston, Texas, has for some time now been giving more traditional, conservative Christians a kind of mega-headache.

Mr. Osteen is not one to strictly conform to the evangelical playbook. As with most mainstream Christian denominations, the theological center of this playbook asserts unequivocally that the only way to salvation is through Jesus Christ: knowledge of, acceptance of, and commitment to Christ is the only way to redeem one's existence and thereby qualify for a life of eternal bliss in heaven.

Mr. Osteen, however, has let it slip—on more than one occasion—that only God can judge the heart of another human being, and that it is not his place to condemn, or disqualify from salvation, others just because they may be Jewish, Muslim or Atheist. This does not sit well with the powers that be among mainstream evangelicals, most of whom are given to judging others at the drop of a hat. Some have even referred to his sermons as "heretical."

What does the popularity of Mr. Osteen's message say about religious faith and its standing in the world? Could it be that popularizing a watered down of version of Christian dogma is but a first step on the long road toward a pantheistic or deistic worldview where God is little more than a metaphor? Dogmatic Christians suggest precisely such an eventuality if those like Joel Osteen aren't called out for their blasphemy and appropriately marginalized. On this point, it seems we atheists are in agreement with the Christian dogmatists. We would assert, however, that this is something humanity should strive for—not wish away.

It's also possible Mr. Osteen is taking a page right out of the religious playbook of Barack Obama, who I believe is in fact a closet atheist. Acting as a virtual double agent, the president persistently panders to religious interests for no other reason than to placate and mislead them, all the while surreptitiously working against their interests behind their backs. Employing these deceptive tactics, the president is managing to slowly empty the world's immense ocean of religiosity one small teaspoon at a time.

The question is does Joel Osteen possess this kind of duplicity. Or is he, in the end, just a little wishy washy about God? One can only wonder.

Legend for the Ages: The Story of Christmas

The beauty of mythology is that it celebrates one of man's most treasured possessions—the imagination. With the unique powers of the imagination, one can construct that which reason tells us cannot be constructed; travel to places reason tells us we cannot go; become something reason tells us we will never become. Reason, it seems, has no place in such a conjured world.

The cult of reason and rationality often fails to satisfy our collective appetite for the unreal, the unachievable, the unknowable. But we have ingeniously devised a way to go to these very places where none have gone before. The imagination takes us on these fantastical voyages to worlds which cannot become real, and yet manage to become nearly real through the magic of belief! By believing something to be true, we ground in our own reality that which would otherwise remain forever outside the world of possibility.

And so it is with Christmas. For the faithful, this holiday commemorates events believed to have actually occurred. For the rest of us, it has evolved into a legend of grand proportions—a myth worthy of the gods. And frankly, this is where Christmas belongs—as a fable among fables, the finest of folklore.

As unassailable dogma, the story of Christmas fails completely; as fruit from the tree of the imagination, however, it succeeds in grand style. Here it can be embraced for the quaint and charming fiction that it is. That being said, wishing someone a "Merry Christmas" nonetheless has the feel of a ratifying gesture many of us are not comfortable offering. Until such time as the story of Christmas is relieved of the religious burden to ground itself in reality, the seasonal greeting of choice for us skeptics will likely remain "Happy Holidays."

Perhaps in another thousand years, the Christmas tale will be told to our young without the taint of religious indoctrination, and will instead be appreciated for what it truly is—precious fodder for the untamed imagination.

Self or God: The False Choice

Auxiliary Bishop Peter Rosazza of the Roman Catholic archdiocese of Hartford, Connecticut was interviewed recently on the Colin McEnroe Show on Connecticut Public Radio. (Check out the interview.) It was an oddly entertaining encounter—as revealing as it was nonsensical.

First off, Bishop Rosazza is an affable figure. He engagingly interacted with the host who is self-professed in his religious skepticism. At no point did the bishop appear to be condescending, though he could not help but come across as somewhat instructive—no doubt for the benefit of the godless Mr. McEnroe. The problem the bishop had was the same one religious apologists face the world over: having to explain the inexplicable.

To every substantive question posed by the interviewer about matters of faith, God, spirituality, etc., Bishop Rosazza's responses were constructed of little more that compounded metaphors, as though he were speaking in a code only the faithful could comprehend. He didn't seem to possess the tools of articulation necessary to put forth even a modest defense of his own life of faith. Circular reasoning, ambiguous logic, and flowery ruminations were all he offered, which shouldn't surprise anyone. Many apologists amazingly find success with these tools, especially when addressing those who are more predisposed to conformity and group-think in the first place.

While acknowledging that man is indeed responsible for the condition of his fellow man, the bishop nonetheless asserts that successfully fulfilling this duty requires “faith in action.” The objectionable insinuation is that without religious faith, man is ill equipped to adequately tend to his fellow man. Scores of godless humanitarians might have something different to say on the subject.

Of particular interest was the bishop’s assertion that without God in his life, man is unalterably self-centered. In other words, by not believing in the supreme transcendence of an omnipotent and omniscient god, man is anointing himself supreme entity in all things. What other choice is there? One could easily infer from this rhetorical device that there is nothing else to put one’s “faith” in. How often it is said, We can not do it alone. About this, those who say such things are absolutely correct. We humanist skeptics understand all too well that we are powerless to manage life’s complexities on our own. We turn to a different place for answers, however. We turn to one another. We worship nothing; we worship no one. Instead, we value and respect man’s ability to strive for his own betterment by committing to that which brings out the best of his nature. This mindset not only fills our lives with meaning and purpose, it even provides a sense of worldly salvation.

The human individual—on his own—is just as impotent as any supernatural entity when it comes to conquering life’s challenges. Living, loving, and working in concert, however, man has no need to conjure an entity that serves only to condemn him for his failures.

Skepticism: The Critical Commodity

In the world some of us grew up in, obedience and conformity were the rule. Questioning authority was a sin. Was that the way it really should have been?

As it turns out, obedience and conformity are necessary when the only sustenance being offered one's intellect is wrapped in dogma. Anything less is insubordinate. Rather than eagerly engaging a child when he or she invokes his instinct to question everything, those who value conformity over skepticism will instead say, "Because I am your mother, and I said so." Putting aside the fact that one's parents have decades of experience with life and, as a rule, know better than a child what is best for him or her, great pains should nonetheless be taken to indulge a child's inquisitiveness to the greater end that its natural sense of skepticism be cultivated rather than quashed. Critical thinking is not just for grown-ups.

This kind of free thinking, however, is anathema to god-driven ideology. Recalling the Jesuit master who proclaimed that as long as he had the attention of a child for the first seven years of life or thereabouts, his mind forever after belonged to him, the nefarious nature of compulsory religious education of the young is brazenly exposed.

How best then to pass down accumulated wisdom if not via the rigidity of dogmatism? When a child is told to repeat, "five times five equals twenty-five" one hundred times, odds are he will assimilate this truism. Why not the same methodology for learning about life? Compel one to memorize The Ten Commandments and he may well trust that these, too, are based on a truthfulness worthy of ritualization.

A much better approach is to instill values, and values are best shared by example. But isn't conformity a value? Yes, but the essential aspect of conformity as a value is that it functions only when not held up as a value of dimensions so nearly absolute it serves as little more than an end unto itself. Conformity at the expense of one's uniqueness is abhorrently dysfunctional.

A natural skeptic questions vigorously even those whom, and that which, he is predisposed to agree with. Being of the liberal political persuasion, I might be inclined to go along with a public health care option, but I am highly skeptical when the president claims his plan will more than pay for itself over the life of the bill. Likewise, when a conservative denounces a government health care option—for reasons other than the inane—I am immediately suspicious of my own instinct to dismiss him. If skepticism is a worthy value for one, it should be just as worthy a value for the other.

An unquestioning faith in anything, whether religious or secular, is not a value worthy of passing on to those whose intellects we are charged with nurturing. Rather it is an invitation to denigrate that which should be cherished: an independent and inquisitive mind.

In the pursuit of knowledge, skepticism most surely is—the critical commodity.

Finding Common Ground

Forty years ago today man first set foot on the surface of the moon. After eons of gazing skyward with blissful ignorance and total wonderment, our journey to the stars was finally under way. In all, twelve human beings have walked on the surface of our nearest celestial neighbor, and in time others will surely return.

Why did we go to then moon? Was it, as many have so succinctly pointed out, just because it was there? Can the challenge of defining a purpose for something so grand be that simple? One reason Christopher Columbus no doubt traversed the mighty Atlantic Ocean was to find out what was on the other side. The instinctual need to know, our unquenchable thirst for knowledge, lies at the heart of what motivates us as intelligent beings.

For some the need to know cannot wait, and the need to believe takes precedence. As life goes, this is not a crime. The complexity of the universe is more than sufficient to make us wonder whether or not the goal of understanding it all will ever be within our grasp. Believing in something greater than ourselves can be a noble and admirable sentiment. We who call ourselves rationalists also sense the urge to be a part of something greater than ourselves. For us, however, that something takes the form of a purpose - not a being whose very existence is a matter of debate.

Sadly, the overriding trait of the relationship between theists and rationalists is antagonism. For a culture that celebrates diversity, this is something of a mystery. What is it about the nature of these world views that makes each so unpalatable to the other? Are we in fact precluded from sharing the things that make life most worth living? Or does the pursuit of ideological détente provide the best hopes for finding common ground?

The most obvious thing rationalists and theists share is their humanity. In the context of divining purpose, however, one's humanity defies description in terms of whether it is religious or secular. It must be conceded that ultimate truths about human nature and the universe are beyond our understanding for the time being. This does not mean that having religious faith is something to be looked down upon. On the contrary, it is eminently worthwhile insofar as it invites healthy speculation about that which we someday hope to understand.

Questioning the commitment to our own presumptions about life - and about each other - is critical to the task of understanding, which, in turn, is critical to the task of living with tolerance. Agreeing to disagree has its place, but in the quest to find common ground, there is no substitute for seeking out, even among our adversaries, that which is truly deserving of respect.

Science vs. Religion: Is This Even Necessary?

Though it was a valiant effort, converting the greater part of civilization to atheism was probably too much to hope for. Judging by the predictable responses of so many among the god-fearing masses, it is clear the words of Richard Dawkins (The God Delusion), Christopher Hitchens (God Is Not Great) and Sam Harris (The End of Faith) held little sway with those predisposed to religiosity.

Some who claim to be immune to the influences of either intellectual camp - religious or rational - make the argument that because religion, theology and philosophy are not the domain of the scientific endeavor, the forces of reason are therefore ill-equipped to make judgments about man's origin and purpose. The truth is the rational sphere is no less impotent than the religious sphere when it comes to answering life's most compelling questions.

The assertion that rationalism is just as much a faith as religion because all inquiry presupposes certain truths about that which it is attempting to reveal misses the point. (NY Times Blog Think Again, Stanley Fish) To the extent rationalism presupposes anything, it presupposes only antecedent truths which the very processes of the scientific method have already affirmed. Yes, rationalists do possess a certain kind of faith, a faith which tells them a stone dropped from a tall building will fall to earth. Rationalists are right to question any faith which claims there is an explanation founded in reason for a human being arising from the dead and bodily ascending into a euphoric netherworld a few days later. What rationalists object to is not someone having religious faith, but rather claiming a rational explanation for those tenets of their faith which defy such explanations.

The perpetual clash between science and religion reveals the lengths to which many will go to claim reason as their ally. It is as though reason were the holy grail of intellectual commodities, and whoever absconds with its persuasive prowess will somehow command the intellectual high ground. Reason is so valued a commodity, some will go so far as to propose the inane to fetch its prize. (Fides et Ratio: Making Sense of the Senseless)

Could it be as simple as accepting the notion that science and religion are unique and independent domains as Stephen Jay Gould's non-overlapping magisteria suggests? Gould's proposal does seem to provide an honorable retreat for the warring ideologues in this debate. The implacability on both sides, however, tells us many think this is a war that can be won, Gould's efforts to disarm the combatants notwithstanding.

Instead of hyper-educated principals trying to convince each other of the enlightened premise of their arguments, perhaps what we need are more humble notables demonstrating the plausibility of a working, and yes loving, co-existence between those who have religious faith and those who do not. Can't we all just get along?

Don't Do It, Billy!

Tonight I was tempted - tempted to do something I have told myself a thousand times I would never do: walk up to perfect strangers and leave them with a home-made booklet espousing all the wonderful benefits of a life without God. What made me even entertain the idea of doing something so selfish and disrespectful? As some may guess, the idea was not an original one.

I was sitting at a table in a coffee shop reading through a booklet I made consisting of all my blog entries posted here on Living Without God - A Life of Reason (a couple of people expressed an interest in having such a booklet so they could peruse it at their leisure) when several people walked into the shop and sat down at a table nearby. At first I noticed one of them had what looked like a smudge of some kind on his forehead. I wondered if this person had any idea his face and forehead were in need of a good cleansing. A moment later, I noticed the same smudge marks on the foreheads of the other three people as well. Then - the light bulb went on over my head. It had to be that Catholic rite of Ash Wednesday. (Apparently I was making some progress toward vacating my mind of all those old religious rituals.)

For a moment I was experiencing what had to be the same feeling those annoying bible thumpers have right before they pounce on their unsuspecting prey and inflict their religious inanities on them all because they want to save their lost souls. Then suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I glanced over and saw a little demon - pitch fork, horns and all - looking up at me and urgently muttering, "Go ahead. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Throw that booklet on the table and tell them to have a nice read!"

I rubbed my eyes to cleanse them of the apparent apparition, but to no avail. That little devil just kept looking at me and tempting me in that special way only a real demon knows how to. Then, a moment later, another tap. This time on my other shoulder. I looked down and noticed a little angel - wings, halo and all - looking up at me and urgently muttering, "Don't do it, Billy. You know better than that. Two wrongs don't make a right."

I rubbed my eyes again, but the visions persisted. For several minutes these minions of my imagination took turns attempting to seize my will. In a trance, I got up, booklet clasped firmly in hand, and began making my way toward The Table of the Ash Heads. Just as I was about to invite myself into their sanctuary and point them toward the light, I suddenly emerged from my deep daze and instead offered a polite greeting to my caffeine cohorts before ambling toward the exit knowing in my heart I had just done the right thing.

I guess I'm just not an evangelical atheist after all. As strongly as I feel about my views, I was determined never to stoop to the level of the thumpers. As for the next time one of them approaches me, when I begin to contemplate my evil responses, I hope that little voice will be there to say, "Whatever you're thinking, don't do it, Billy."

A God Concept I Can Work With

A recent visitor to my blog who goes by the user name Budha left a comment that was actually more of an invitation to view his site and engage in what he hoped would be a substantive discussion about "God concepts." Being curious, I checked out his site and his three latest posts having to do with this enticing subject.

There were a number of comments from thoughtful contributors suggesting various definitions of "God." Some were rather ethereal and defended the popular concept of God as the omnipotent and omniscient presence so many of us were brought up to believe was true. Others were clearly skeptical and mindfully critical of traditional God concepts.

(As a rule, I resist the urge to take part in "commentary wars" on blog sites, but the tone of most of the discourse on this site was very civil. Though many no doubt held strongly to their views, the discussion avoided deteriorating into mindless flaming, which is a prerequisite for my participation.)

But did I have anything of value to contribute? What, in fact, was my understanding of the concept of God? After some initial trepidation, I decided to accept the challenge of quantifying this idea in my mind and leaving a brief comment.

What were the essential components of my understanding of "god?" My nearly life-long process of attempting to construct a concept that both reflected my true feelings on the matter and offered a meaningful convention for others led me to submit (and properly credit) something that was actually not my own original idea. The most meaningful explanation I have come across for so many people's insistence upon God's reality comes from none other than Sigmund Freud.

Freud essentially posited the following: "...owing to feelings of helplessness and guilt, the need for security and forgiveness arises, so man creates for himself an entity that can provide precisely these things." In other words, "religion is seen as childish delusion and atheism as grown up realism." (Sigmund Freud: Religion as Wish Fulfillment) God, therefore, is rightly understood to be a construct of the imagination, and its creation is artfully explained as a 'necessity' arising out of psychological considerations.

I closed my comment to Budha's God Concepts, Part 3 with the following: "So where do I turn in times of need? To my fellow man. If I've developed a 'faith' in anything, it is in our ability as human beings to provide the love, solace and comfort we so often need from one another."

Thank you, Sigmund Freud, for a God concept I can work with.

Religious Delusion: Faith In the Extreme?

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I really am a tenth-grade dropout. The views expressed in the following essay should be taken in this light. For a professional introduction to "delusions" see Encyclopedia of Mental Disorders: Delusions.

It is widely understood by mental health professionals that religious delusion is a common symptom experienced by many people suffering from a variety of mental illnesses. This observation, however, requires a certain convention be adopted for the purpose of defining just what religious delusion is.

Broadly speaking, a delusion is a persistent false belief in something despite contravening evidence or reason. Under this working definition, is it fair to describe those who have religious faith as delusional? For the most part, it would seem not. Practically speaking, it seems whether or not a belief rises to the level of delusion can be gauged by its relationship to behavioral anomalies. If someone says God commanded him to commit murder, it would be understood that religious delusion is at work, not because God's existence can be disproved, but rather because the belief in God's existence resulted in antisocial behavior. Delusion is not necessarily dependent upon the false premise of any particular belief, but rather on its propensity to negatively impact behavior.

But what about other more subtle manifestations of questionable belief? It may not be considered delusional for someone who believes in God to tell those who do not they will go to hell, but if this belief is so deep-seated it interferes with relating to people in general, the label of "delusional" could surely apply. Given that achieving and maintaining stable, loving relationships is one measure of positive mental health, the absence of such relationships in the life of someone possessed of extreme religious faith suggests a delusional aspect to such beliefs.

Another symptom commonly associated with religious delusion is obsession. The religiously obsessed see all things through the narrow prism of their own religious faith. Such thinking is unhealthful because it is dismissive of those who employ any of life's other prisms of discernment, thus complicating the building of relationships based upon more universal concepts or even trust. In addition, the religiously obsessed often endure profound stress at the thought - or experience - of having their religious beliefs questioned.

Among other reasons, one could be said to be suffering from religious delusion if:

• the beliefs in question impede one's ability to cultivate and maintain meaningful relationships, or;
• they are the direct motivation for overt acts of antisocial behavior.

Finally, it is important to remember that those experiencing delusions of any kind are, by definition, grappling with mental illness, and as such are deserving of compassion and understanding, not ridicule or contempt.

The Tree of Knowledge: A Fitting Symbol of Free Thought?

It's been said that getting atheists and free-thinkers to combine forces and form a cohesive political/social unit is like herding cats - not easy to do. I came across a terrific short film that was posted at The Friendly Atheist blog site. It is a film by Gregory Walsh in which he interviews several people while a Tree of Knowledge is planted at the Free Speech Zone in Philadelphia.

The Tree of Knowledge may be finding a new purpose as the symbol atheists and free thinkers have been searching for. On the plus side, free thinkers could use a powerful icon to symbolize their cause. It has the potential to do for free thinkers what the Menorah does for Jewish people and the nativity scene does for Christians - give them a symbol to rally around during the traditional American holiday season.

Such a move is not without controversy. Many religious people believe it would be distasteful to celebrate atheism at a time that has been traditionally recognized for celebrating the birth of Christ or the Hanukkah miracles. Atheists make the point that such a collusion has outlived its time claiming the holiday season should not be devoted to uniquely Christian or Jewish concerns. There is also the added pressure from church-state separation advocates to make certain public property doesn't promote or favor one religion over another. (In this broad sense, atheism is commonly construed to possess the benefits of a "religion.")

Personally, I like the idea of finding a sort of humanist trademark to identify our philosophical brand. I do have mixed feelings, however, about such a symbol being plucked from a widely recognized biblical source. The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is, after all, the very thing God allegedly commanded Adam and Eve not to partake of (if you believe that sort of thing). It is not totally unreasonable to understand why some might find offense in this. Yet for the same reasons some might take offense, it may be a particularly appropriate symbol to use - atheists do in fact stand in direct opposition to core beliefs of the religious.

I am of the mind, however, that this need not be a problem. True diversity demands that in some ways we make allowances for one another. It does seems important that atheists be accommodated not for what they stand in opposition to - belief in god - but rather for that which they steadfastly support, e.g., the Affirmations of Humanism. Better to celebrate an affirmative ideal as opposed to a negativity.

There will no doubt always be those who vehemently oppose any normalization of atheism, free thought or humanism, but it seems clear that such normalizing would only serve to elevate the best of what our country stands for, and by the way, guarantees - freedom of expression. Not at all a bad ideal to celebrate.

Unappealing, Uninspiring, Unenlightened

Like most journeys of self-discovery, mine began as a solitary endeavor. Long before I had ever heard of Richard Dawkins and The God Delusion, Christopher Hitchens and God Is Not Great, or Sam Harris and The End of Faith, I was well on my way toward repudiating my earlier life and inaugurating a wonderful new kind of day for celebration, the Feast of the Renunciation.

It was important to me that I formally recognize my emancipation from religious preoccupation. It was a day worth commemorating. The stultifying weight of superstition, dogma and nonsensical thoughts being lifted from my overburdened shoulders provided so much relief, quantifying its soothing effect on my emotional well-being is difficult to do.

It took as long as it did for me to begin this journey of liberation because I was virtually set upon by my religious handlers for so long, and because religious indoctrination as a child - when done with the perverse efficiency it usually is - has a way of enduring both time and challenge.

The simple act of freely expressing my thoughts here on a lonely blog has provided immeasurable comfort as well as an increasing sense of belonging as I continue to find other well-rounded, free-thinking bloggers. To my pleasant surprise, the few religious people who have seen fit to comment have been quite palatable. It is my very intention to engage people of faith to propose to them that we celebrate what it is we have in common: our humanity and, hopefully, our love of life. Sometimes it seems to work; other times I am gently pelted with reasons why it can't work.

Three basic qualities about my former life of relative religiosity come to mind when I consider how empty it had become: unappealing; uninspiring; and unenlightened.

• First, it was unappealing to me because of its innumerable and incessant self-righteous affirmations, as well as its exclusionary tendencies. Dissent of any kind as to things substantive was not tolerated and left one with feelings of impertinence. Further, people who did not openly affirm their status as god-fearing creatures were not only socially alienated, but also told directly that their destinies were irredeemable. Very unappealing.
  
  
• Second, it was uninspiring to me because for all its attestations of wonder and magnificence emanating from a so-called god, it paled in comparison to the awe-inspiring sensations I would experience when contemplating the transcendent splendor of nature itself. The process of man's discovering and understanding things previously held to be mysterious was amazing enough in and of itself. Attributing all knowledge and understanding to a higher power was taking something very precious away from us: our natural thirst to achieve for ourselves that which lends to us the very knowledge and understanding we seek.
  
  
• And finally, it was unenlightened to me because propagating its core tenets was fueling so much hatred and disharmony in the world. We've got a couple of missing office towers in New York that speak to this very issue rather poignantly. Even moderate religious views were becoming more and more distasteful to me because, in practice, they unfailingly abdicated the ultimate responsibility of securing our own stations in life, as well as our destinies, to an entity other than ourselves. This is all to say nothing of just how unenlightened it plainly is to believe that morality is necessarily derived from a supernatural source. Further, any worldview that nominates religion as its guiding structure is simply ill-equipped to handle the challenges presented by a society based on diversity and pluralism.

Yes, it took a while, but I eventually found myself crafting an outlook on life that required three very different qualities. It had to be appealing, inspiring, and enlightened.

My old life was ever so close - yet ever so far away.

Pondering An Intellectual Obscenity

Questioning the very quality of the love I have for my family and friends simply because it does not emanate from your God --

If you've never pondered what an intellectual obscenity might look like, this is a perfect example of one.