What are they getting all-armed about?

My CD Rom Oxford English Dictionary defines atheism as “the theory or belief that God does not exist”, from the Greek atheos (a- without + theos God). This definition is adequate to our purposes, though we might note that the term implies the denial of the existence of all deities, not just God. And it might also be noted that atheism does not necessarily imply a denial of religion. Some religions, such as Jainism and some forms of Buddhism, are atheistic inasmuch as they do not require belief in deities. And some have suggested that atheistic systems like secular humanism, existentialism, Marxism, etc., if not full-fledged religions, sometimes develop at least a quasi-religious character.

Atheism, in this broad sense, has been around for a long time, perhaps as long as theism. But for most of us it’s a phenomenon of the 19^th and 20^th centuries connected to broader philosophies such as secular humanism and scientific rationalism. Names like Bertrand Russell, Sigmund Freud, Isaac Asimov, Madeline Murray O'Hare and Carl Sagan (actually an agnostic) may come to mind. Until recently it has been just another option in the spiritual landscape and, though there have always been tensions, for the most part atheism has taken it’s place as a relatively tolerant alternative. In this respect, however, The New Atheism is a horse of a different colour.

The term “New Atheism” was coined by Gary Wolf in an article entitled “The Church of Non-Believers” published in Wired magazine, November 2006. The phenomenon itself finds it’s origin in the writings of Sam Harris (The End of Faith: Religion, Terror and the Future of Reason, 2004, and Letter to a Christian Nation, 2006), Richard Dawkins (The God Delusion, 2006), Daniel C. Dennett (Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon, 2006), and Christopher Hitchens (God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, 2007).

What makes the New Atheism interesting is its strident tone and wholesale condemnation of religion:

Sam Harris: “A person who believes that Elvis is still alive is very unlikely to get promoted to a position of great power and responsibility in our society. Neither will a person who believes that the holocaust was a hoax. But people who believe equally irrational things about God and the bible are now running our country. This is genuinely terrifying.” (Letter to a Christian Nation)

“The President of the United States has claimed, on more than one occasion, to be in dialogue with God. If he said he was talking to God through his hairdryer, this would precipitate to a national emergency. I fail to see how the addition of a hairdryer makes the claim more ludicrous or more offensive.” (Letter to a Christian Nation)

Richard Dawkins: “The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.” (The God Delusion)

“There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful as we choose to make it.” (The God Delusion)

Apart from the fact that they are being published by mainstream publishers and read by millions of people there is nothing so very new about comments like these. There have always been strident atheists, but until recently they have been generally quarantined within a small publishing ghetto. (Why I Don’t Believe in the New Atheism, by Tom Flynn). However, in this post 9/11 world – Harris’s book The End of Faith is specifically presented as a response to 9/11 – religion is being taken more seriously as a cause for concern, even alarm. It is no longer naively assumed that all religions can be summed up in “the golden rule” or that all spiritual paths lead to love and light. People are beginning to recognize that religion can be dangerous, and some are suggesting that all of it is. And this worries me.

The charge that ideas and those who hold them are wrong, inept or foolish, is of no particular concern, but to say these notions or people are delusional and dangerous is another matter. We naturally oppose what we believe is wrong, but we oppress what we believe is dangerous. I can’t help wondering if we might be on the verge of another round of religious oppression. And I also wonder if there is any way to voice this concern without causing alarm (from Old French alarme, through late Middle English “to arms!”) and making matters worse.

PS: The cartoon doesn't really make a point, I just think it's funny.

GROWING PAINS

What do you do if you are a pastor, preacher, leader of a Christian congregation, and you come to realize that you no longer believe that God exists?

The other day I listened to a podcast of an episode of the CBC radio program Tapestry entitled Preachers Who Don’t Believe in God. It featured an interview with a pastor from an unidentified conservative, Christian denomination in the southern United States, who, with an electronically disguised voice, told the story of his loss of faith. His anonymity was guarded because he has not yet “come out” to his congregation. Indeed, apart from his wife and a couple of counsellors, Adam (not his real name) has revealed his situation to no one. In his estimation, he continues to preach and pastor as effectively as ever, and doubts that any of his colleagues or congregants would have the slightest inkling of his loss of faith. As far as he is concerned, he is the same loving, caring individual he’s always been, though he admits his personal integrity is somewhat compromised by this situation. He’s confused about how he should proceed and fearful about the future. He’s heart broken about the stress this is causing his wife, and dreads the losses (relationships and career) that seem inevitable as he eventually goes public as an atheist.

It would be a hard-hearted person who could listen to Adam’s story without a degree of compassion. He is obviously under great strain; his suffering is real. And, presumably, there are many others like him; ministers who continue to preach and pastor though they secretly do not believe in God. This was actually the point to the program, which was based on a study from Tufts University of several pastors in this situation. And, from my own experience in the ministry, I would expect that this is the tip of an iceberg.

In the coming weeks I’d like to explore this whole matter of atheism, and particularly what is being called “the New Atheism”. But right now I’d like to make a few comments on the program I heard.

First, Preachers Who Don’t Believe in God leaves the impression that loss of faith is a problem peculiar to pastors in religious institutions that are too rigid to accept them in their new form. But surely this is a broader problem. Think of the politician who realizes he or she no longer believes in the foundational principles of the party, or the climatologist who begins to doubt, or to accept for that matter, the claims of the global warming lobby. And I heard an interview a while ago with a soldier who had deserted from the US military because he no longer believed in war. He was now living in Canada, separated from his family and friends, because he faced prosecution if he returned to his home in the States. This man’s situation is far worse than Adam’s. The worst a church can do is fire you; some folks can still put you in jail.

Because we live in a world of liberal pluralism, where faith is often seen as a relatively unimportant detail, we have little appreciation for how traumatic a basic faith change can be. We, thus, find it hard to understand Jesus' declaration, "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword . For I have come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law— a man's enemies will be the members of his own household.” (Matt 10:34-36) Faith is a big deal, and you can’t gain it, or lose it, or change it without paying a price.

Second, changes in basic beliefs are simply part of growing up and if, for the sake of peace in our lives, we refuse to come to terms with these changes, we will stunt our development and the development of our institutions and community. Personal integrity isn’t just about us, it’s something we owe to everyone.

Pastors should be honest with themselves and their churches for the sake of all concerned. And the same goes for politicians, scientists, teachers, journalists, soldiers and everyone. For, as we change and grow, our communities also change and grow. Consider any of the great heroes of change. Every one of them had to face the rejection of family and friends. It’s how they learned to be heroic.

I did not lose my faith in God during my time in the ministry, but my thoughts and convictions, including my understanding of God, did change dramatically over the years. And it was most discouraging to realize that the church had become a very inhospitable place for new ideas. Far too many people come to church hoping to avoid learning. They learned everything they believe in Sunday School, and want every sermon, lesson and conversation to affirm what they already know. And, if that confirmation is not forthcoming, they become angry and defensive and storm about causing damage to everyone, especially the little ones. Thus, there are very few churches that are great learning places.

When I left the ministry, wounded and broken, my sister made a comment that accurately described my plight. “I have three brothers who are pastors”, she said, “and it’s not a healthy occupation; too much self editing.”

My advice to Adam would be to get out of the closet as quickly as possible and into a place where he can think through his God-thoughts with others. He may confirm that he really is an atheist, but he might well discover that it isn’t faith in God that he has lost, but faith in a childish image of God. When he describes the God he no longer believes in, it’s a God most mature Christians haven’t believed in since they were ten. Elementary school is a wonderful thing for children, but you can’t build a bridge or an airplane, or even keep your personal financial accounts, with the arithmetic you learned in grade three.

LEST WE FORGET

As I type the date, September 11, at the top of my blog draft this morning I almost expect it to morph into some googlish twin tower rememblem. Such is the power of cultural memory and media. For each of us, certain dates invoke images: November 11th (poppies and cenotaphs) and the 22^nd (a black motorcade and a flag-draped casket), July 1^st or 4^th (fireworks and flags), October 31st (jack-o’-lanterns and boisterous children) and September 11^th (two great office towers smoking and collapsing). These are the kinds of things that make us a people, with joys and sorrows we share. They are tokens of cultural exchange, our common bonds, our corporate identity. “Where were you when you heard that Kennedy had been shot?” – It’s interesting that this question almost always refers to John, not Bobby. – And “Where were you when you heard about 9/11?”. The numbers are a coded incantation that conjures up a shared experience of shock, of rage, of sorrow. And the images are more than our life video. They shape us, make us who we are. They draw us into mourning and even into war.

And so, as this date has approached, we have been inundated with news stories and documentaries, reminding us of what we all remember. And many of us will pause today with our cultural and political leaders. We will ponder, or at least appear to ponder. And then we will go on our way, renewed for the coming decade in our commitment to remember to remember.

But regardless what we do the memory will fade, as all memories fade. With each year a year's worth of new babies with be added; people who were nowhere at all when it happened, and will have no idea where they were, or what thy were doing, when they first heard about 9/11. And a year's worth of others will be subtracted; folks who were there and remember it all.

And I believe this is the real lesson of 9/11. We are mortal, each of us and all of us. Every person and people, every nation and empire, every monument and memory is passing away. It’s good to remember for as long as we remember: the Battle of Hastings and the Plains of Abraham, the fall of the Bastille and the Berlin Wall, the Lusitania, Pearl Harbor, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But all of these memories will fade in time, and our descendants will move on as did our ancestors.

It’s pride that makes us imagine that we will be different somehow. But, in the end there is only one who is eternal, only one whose memory never fades. At the apex of the British Empire Rudyard Kipling said it well. And at the apex of the American Empire we might do well to ponder his words anew – lest we forget.

Recessional (For Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in 1897)
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies—
The Captains and the Kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe—
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!

JACK LAYTON

On Monday, August 22, 2011, Jack Layton died. For the vast majority of Canadians he was not a personal friend but merely a celebrity politician. Indeed, most Canadians did not support his politics, and many actively opposed him. But, for almost two weeks now, he has been lying in state, so to speak. A few, like Ezra Levant of Sun Media, have been unable to endure this truce period, but most have stood by quietly, politely allowing the NDP to enjoy their moment in the sunset.

The first step in becoming a saint is one we all accomplish eventually; we die. And with our passing we enter a period of grace during which people are reluctant to say anything very negative about us. Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein and the like are exceptions of course, but exceptions that prove the rule. People must have a remarkably low opinion of you before they will withhold this period of grace.

It’s all a bit awkward when applied to an opponent who has regularly been the target of our opprobrium, but that’s okay. This opprobrium free zone allows his or her loved ones to deal with their loss in peace, or to use it for partisan advantage for that matter. And presumably they will accord us the same benefit when our turn comes.

And this is really the point of it all. Our turn does come, because mortality is the thing we share with everyone, friends and enemies alike. The one good thing that can be said about death is that it brings a certain equality and sense of proportion.

Perhaps no one has said it better than John Donne:

"No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."

These past few days have been, for the most part, a nice break, not from partisanship but from rancour. Soon we will be back to “normal”. But for a while we have recalled our common humanity and how, for good or ill, our allies and opponents, our friends and enemies, are a lot like us.