******* WARNING: Spoiler vis a vis “The Life of Pi” at bottom of this post. *******
So begins a (potential) series of posts on the moral bankruptcy of atheists and the ludicrousness of believing that triumphant life such as it is could ever have “evolved” by accident without the guidance of a supreme and loving being. Equally likely is that I will lose interest and just make t-shirts instead. But, I would like to get my thoughts in order before I have a hopefully fruitful conversation with Panda. Rambling on here will hopefully help me get down all of the reasons I think religion is dangerous bullshit before then.
The Goddess with the fondness for socks has inspired me this early morning to say a few words on an observation that floated around in the back of my mind for years before a particular fantasy novel I was reading solidified it. I actually think I mentioned it before. The Gods were extremely human. In particular I remember the God of Love who was petulant and self-interested and constantly pouting to people and asking them if they loved her. My thought was this. Even if a supreme being DOES exist and his/her existence can be proven beyond the shadow of a doubt, so WHAT? Why does his/her existence naturally lead to the conclusion that we should worship this all-powerful entity? Because we owe it our existence? And? Children owe their parents their existence as well. That doesn’t make their parents a moral authority on anything. Plenty of parents are big assholes. And the thing is, the Christian God, at the very least, is a huge JERK. It’s appalling that people would actually want to worship him, even if you can get beyond the absolute absurdity of believing this acid-trip tale of virgin births, resurrections, and bread that turns into flesh as it is being consumed (and eww gross…later turns into shit?) by millions of apparently cannibalistic Catholics. He claims to be infallible and omniscient, then he creates Man with the capacity for evil and destruction. Then he punishes Man for succumbing to that which is inherent in the nature given to him by his creator. And then he shrugs his shoulder while RAINING DOWN SULFUR ON EVERYONE as if to say, well this is all YOUR fault?!?! If he’s omniscient, then he KNEW what would happen and yet he didn’t see fit to tweak his design in the slightest. It can’t be both ways. Either he’s infallible, in which case he wanted this to happen and is a huge sadistic asshole, or he made a mistake, in which case one of his main claims for authority (omniscience and perfection) is completely undermined.
I used to be an agnostic. Agnosticism is to atheists as bi-sexuality is to gay men: a safe place to pause before full acceptance of the truth. As long as I was an agnostic, I had no problem with other people believing. For a while there I envied them and in fact resented that my faith had been taken away from me by my intelligence. But gradually I’ve become more and more hostile toward religion, longing with greater and greater fervency for its complete eradication. Dawkins has a great quote that touches on reasons for my own hostility. But in order to understand his reference, I have to post an excerpt from Bertrand Russell on why the burden of proof does NOT lie with the skeptic of religion:
“If I were to suggest that between the Earth and Mars there is a china teapot revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit, nobody would be able to disprove my assertion provided I were careful to add that the teapot is too small to be revealed even by our most powerful telescopes. But if I were to go on to say that, since my assertion cannot be disproved, it is an intolerable presumption on the part of human reason to doubt it, I should rightly be thought to be talking nonsense. If, however, the existence of such a teapot were affirmed in ancient books, taught as the sacred truth every Sunday, and instilled into the minds of children at school, hesitation to believe in its existence would become a mark of eccentricity and entitle the doubter to the attentions of the psychiatrist in an enlightened age or of the Inquisitor in an earlier time.”
And now for Dawkins:
“The reason organized religion merits outright hostility is that, unlike belief in Russell’s teapot, religion is powerful, influential, tax-exempt and systematically passed on to children too young to defend themselves. Children are not compelled to spend their formative years memorizing loony books about teapots. Government-subsidized schools don’t exclude children whose parents prefer the wrong shape of teapot. Teapot-believers don’t stone teapot-unbelievers, teapot-apostates, teapot-heretics and teapot-blasphemers to death. Mothers don’t warn their sons off marrying teapot- shiksas whose parents believe in three teapots rather than one. People who put the milk in first don’t kneecap those who put the tea in first.”
Finally, on those who choose to believe because it makes their lives more comfortable. I still find myself somewhat compelled by this reasoning, though I can’t imagine that many people could receive genuine comfort from something they deep down believe to be fantastical. However, one of my favorite reads of the last few months addresses this in its final pages. I’ll post it below. I think that maybe we just need practice at accepting that when we die, that’s all we get. And that no benevolent entity in the sky is invested in our welfare. I would imagine that if we hadn’t grown up thinking this only to have that comfort snatched away, but rather never had the comfort to begin with, we wouldn’t feel a loss.
“You’re welcome. But before you go, I’d like to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“The Tsimtsum sank on July 2nd, 1977.”
“Yes.”
“And I arrived on the coast of Mexico, the sole human survivor of the Tsimtsum, on February 14th, 1978.”
“That’s right.”
“I told you two stories that account for the 227 days in between.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Neither explains the sinking of the Tsimtsum.”
“That’s right.”
“Neither makes a factual difference to you.”
“That’s true.”
“You can’t prove which story is true and which is not. You must take my word for it.”
“I guess so.”
“In both stories the ship sinks, my entire family dies, and I suffer.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“So tell me, since it makes no factual difference to you and you can’t prove the question either way, which story do you prefer? Which is the better story, the story with the animals or the story without animals?”
“That’s an interesting question…”
“The story with the animals?”
“Yes. The story with the animals is the better story.”
“Thank you. And so it is with God.”
