Can we discuss religion?
I mean, can I/we create a little blog post here about religious preferences without inciting passions and incurring wrath?
I doubt it. Nothing seems to stir up craziness like talk about religion.
But I would like to take on the subject, if for no other reason than to clarify my drive-by mention, in my last post, of barely tolerating religious zealots.
In addition, though, it’s a timely topic. Extreme religious types currently are having an influence over our future that is wholly disproportionate to the sway they should have in our diverse country, thanks to the nutty importance given the presidential caucus in evangelist-heavy Iowa (and future primaries in southern states).
(For an apt analysis, see Susan’s Jacoby’s Feb. 5 Op-ed piece in the New York Times, “Sick and Tired of God Bless America,” http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/07/opinion/sunday/sick-and-tired-of-god-bless-america.html?_r=0 )
So, if you’re the type who gets all bent out of shape by people who don’t share your religious beliefs or convictions, then read no further. This post likely will really, really bother you — so why bother? Don’t pay me no mind. Be happy. Bye.
Now, for the rest of us, I’ll start by positing that religion is a personal choice, a private choice, a conversation between your brain and your sense of what’s needed for a full human life.
If we can agree on that, read on.
If you want to share and celebrate your personal conclusions with others, you join a congregation that suits your needs. Maybe that’s understated — like going to a church service once a week or once in a while — and maybe that’s demonstrative, like singing and praying out loud or taking part in lots of joint activities with fellow believers. In the extreme, think Pentecostal holy rollers.
The whole group thing is not necessary for religious purposes, though. It’s also a very personal decision, a choice.
If I choose not to be religious or not to express any religious views, publicly or privately, that should be okay. A belief in God should carry with it a belief in the highest virtues of our existence, and that would include tolerance and love of all mankind, according to the basic beliefs I’ve read about or experienced growing up a Catholic.
But that’s where the rub comes in.
Many people just can’t hold back their enthusiasm for their religious convictions and seek to impose it on others, whom they berate if they don’t go along. These pushy types somehow find justification for this outreach in their bible of choice. Think Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses, or some strains of Pentecostals.
For some, it goes even further: A belief that it’s the will of their chosen superior being that his or her particular private convictions be spread to the rest of the people on the planet, with eternal rewards granted for successful such work. (And otherworldly penalties inflicted for failure, either on individuals or the world as a whole.)
That is the world of zealotry: A fanatical and uncompromising pursuit of one’s beliefs, with the intent of forcing them on others. That’s where I draw the line on religious tolerance. That’s where something very personal is invaded by someone else’s very personal something.
The extreme example, of course, is the current inhuman ISIS violence, supposedly in the name of their chosen god. There aren’t too many people outside the jihadists who see this as a religious act. It’s barbarianism masquerading as religion.
But there is another level of zealotry, just under the all-out ISIS or Al Queda craziness but a few paces farther out into the badlands than the door-to-door salesmanship of the Mormons or Jehovah Witnesses.
These are the people who believe aggression or even violence is justified in the name of their religion — to lash out at those who don’t hold their beliefs.
For Muslim extremists, we now all know it’s called jihad.
But we have such extremists right here in our own country. I’m talking about elaborate deceptions of — and attacks on — Planned Parenthood over their abortion practices. I’m talking about business owners or public servants — and the politicians who support and promote them — who feel they can discriminate against persons with lifestyles or beliefs that aren’t condoned by their religions.
My point here only is that I simply cannot understand how religion can be used as a basis for hurting other people, depriving them of equal rights or even making them feel uncomfortable. As I noted in my last post, I just put this little mystery of human nature into the same category as people who toss litter out their car windows or drive their vehicles right up to the one in front of them, endangering themselves and those in the other vehicle for no other reason than . . . what? Tell me, please, what’s the point? I just don’t get it.
Likewise, I simply fail to grasp the justifications for religious zealotry. It all seems so hypocritical, so full of obvious contradictions.
Here, I guess I should mention my own religious stance. I am a lapsed Catholic or, as the editor of the Boston Globe’s “Spotlight” unit described himself after his team’s efforts exposed hundreds of sexual abuse cases involving Catholic priests, a “very lapsed” Catholic.
I am not an atheist or agnostic, just a skeptic, with beliefs that come closest to those espoused by humanism.
That worldview was expertly described in detail by Greg Epstein, the humanist chaplain at Harvard University, in his 2009 book, “Good Without God. What a billion nonreligious people do believe.”
It would be tough to summarize or defend here what Epstein spent more than 240 pages explaining but the title provides the gist: Humanists believe in being good for goodness sake, without promise of some eternal reward or threat of eternal punishment. Good, without God.
Humanists have a very strong moral code of conduct, one that is inclusive of all beliefs as long as no one attempts to impose theirs on us or discriminate against non-believers.
An on-line definition states humanism is “an outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters. Humanist beliefs stress the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasize common human needs, and seek solely rational ways of solving human problems.”
As Jacoby points in on the lede of her Times’ essay, the number of U.S. non-believers is significant:
“The population of nonreligious Americans — including atheists, agnostics and those who call themselves “nothing in particular” — stands at an all-time high this election year. Americans who say religion is not important in their lives and who do not belong to a religious group, according to the Pew Research Center, have risen in numbers from an estimated 21 million in 2008 to more than 36 million now.”
As with all things, there are humanist organizations and websites and magazines and all sorts of other outgrowths seeking to galvanize those who share this approach to life and to present counter-narratives to the religious ones that seem to control our societies.
But I am not a joiner — no clubs, movements, political parties, etc. It’s a lifestyle that was cemented by three decades as a journalist, seeking to remain objective in the pursuit of news by keeping all groups (and individuals outside the newsroom, for that matter) at arms length.
So, I do not go so far as to promote humanism or its group priorities. I keep my beliefs private unless provoked or spurred into a (hopefully) calm or rational discourse by external events, as is the case here.
I understand the desire to find meaning in our crazy human lives by assigning control or power to a spiritual being — some force, outside what we can see or touch, that provides an explanation for all the seemingly illogical things that take place: “It’s God’s will,” “God works in mysterious ways,” “if God had intended it to happen it would have happened.”
Without presenting the many arguments for why such a spiritual force makes no sense to me, or why the world’s plethora of different religions obviously means no one is the right one, I will just say my mind simply cannot wrap around the notion that external forces are shaping what happens.
That’s just me.
Most unnerving, the acceptance of a willful God overseeing our world seems to make him a very mean and evil presence, allowing beheadings, torture, wars, slaughters and all kind of cruel and ugly acts to take place, many in the name of religion.
That alone makes me doubt the existence of God, even with the old Catholic rationalization of “free will” — that God somehow is a wonderful supreme being because he gave his creations the absolute freedom to choose their paths in life, even if that makes them horribly bad.
Just sayin’. If You’re up there Lord, Ya just gotta intervene before making any of Your “creations” suffer such really bad fates.
Anyway, back to the basic point, it’s fine with me if the majority of people want to believe in a supernatural being and practice their beliefs.
And I’m okay if anyone wants to push even further, as long as I can just shake my head and walk away, we’ll all be alright — bugged, maybe, but alright.
I mean, can I/we create a little blog post here about religious preferences without inciting passions and incurring wrath?
I doubt it. Nothing seems to stir up craziness like talk about religion.
But I would like to take on the subject, if for no other reason than to clarify my drive-by mention, in my last post, of barely tolerating religious zealots.
In addition, though, it’s a timely topic. Extreme religious types currently are having an influence over our future that is wholly disproportionate to the sway they should have in our diverse country, thanks to the nutty importance given the presidential caucus in evangelist-heavy Iowa (and future primaries in southern states).
(For an apt analysis, see Susan’s Jacoby’s Feb. 5 Op-ed piece in the New York Times, “Sick and Tired of God Bless America,” http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/07/opinion/sunday/sick-and-tired-of-god-bless-america.html?_r=0 )
So, if you’re the type who gets all bent out of shape by people who don’t share your religious beliefs or convictions, then read no further. This post likely will really, really bother you — so why bother? Don’t pay me no mind. Be happy. Bye.
Now, for the rest of us, I’ll start by positing that religion is a personal choice, a private choice, a conversation between your brain and your sense of what’s needed for a full human life.
If we can agree on that, read on.
If you want to share and celebrate your personal conclusions with others, you join a congregation that suits your needs. Maybe that’s understated — like going to a church service once a week or once in a while — and maybe that’s demonstrative, like singing and praying out loud or taking part in lots of joint activities with fellow believers. In the extreme, think Pentecostal holy rollers.
The whole group thing is not necessary for religious purposes, though. It’s also a very personal decision, a choice.
If I choose not to be religious or not to express any religious views, publicly or privately, that should be okay. A belief in God should carry with it a belief in the highest virtues of our existence, and that would include tolerance and love of all mankind, according to the basic beliefs I’ve read about or experienced growing up a Catholic.
But that’s where the rub comes in.
Many people just can’t hold back their enthusiasm for their religious convictions and seek to impose it on others, whom they berate if they don’t go along. These pushy types somehow find justification for this outreach in their bible of choice. Think Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses, or some strains of Pentecostals.
For some, it goes even further: A belief that it’s the will of their chosen superior being that his or her particular private convictions be spread to the rest of the people on the planet, with eternal rewards granted for successful such work. (And otherworldly penalties inflicted for failure, either on individuals or the world as a whole.)
That is the world of zealotry: A fanatical and uncompromising pursuit of one’s beliefs, with the intent of forcing them on others. That’s where I draw the line on religious tolerance. That’s where something very personal is invaded by someone else’s very personal something.
The extreme example, of course, is the current inhuman ISIS violence, supposedly in the name of their chosen god. There aren’t too many people outside the jihadists who see this as a religious act. It’s barbarianism masquerading as religion.
But there is another level of zealotry, just under the all-out ISIS or Al Queda craziness but a few paces farther out into the badlands than the door-to-door salesmanship of the Mormons or Jehovah Witnesses.
These are the people who believe aggression or even violence is justified in the name of their religion — to lash out at those who don’t hold their beliefs.
For Muslim extremists, we now all know it’s called jihad.
But we have such extremists right here in our own country. I’m talking about elaborate deceptions of — and attacks on — Planned Parenthood over their abortion practices. I’m talking about business owners or public servants — and the politicians who support and promote them — who feel they can discriminate against persons with lifestyles or beliefs that aren’t condoned by their religions.
My point here only is that I simply cannot understand how religion can be used as a basis for hurting other people, depriving them of equal rights or even making them feel uncomfortable. As I noted in my last post, I just put this little mystery of human nature into the same category as people who toss litter out their car windows or drive their vehicles right up to the one in front of them, endangering themselves and those in the other vehicle for no other reason than . . . what? Tell me, please, what’s the point? I just don’t get it.
Likewise, I simply fail to grasp the justifications for religious zealotry. It all seems so hypocritical, so full of obvious contradictions.
Here, I guess I should mention my own religious stance. I am a lapsed Catholic or, as the editor of the Boston Globe’s “Spotlight” unit described himself after his team’s efforts exposed hundreds of sexual abuse cases involving Catholic priests, a “very lapsed” Catholic.
I am not an atheist or agnostic, just a skeptic, with beliefs that come closest to those espoused by humanism.
That worldview was expertly described in detail by Greg Epstein, the humanist chaplain at Harvard University, in his 2009 book, “Good Without God. What a billion nonreligious people do believe.”
It would be tough to summarize or defend here what Epstein spent more than 240 pages explaining but the title provides the gist: Humanists believe in being good for goodness sake, without promise of some eternal reward or threat of eternal punishment. Good, without God.
Humanists have a very strong moral code of conduct, one that is inclusive of all beliefs as long as no one attempts to impose theirs on us or discriminate against non-believers.
An on-line definition states humanism is “an outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters. Humanist beliefs stress the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasize common human needs, and seek solely rational ways of solving human problems.”
As Jacoby points in on the lede of her Times’ essay, the number of U.S. non-believers is significant:
“The population of nonreligious Americans — including atheists, agnostics and those who call themselves “nothing in particular” — stands at an all-time high this election year. Americans who say religion is not important in their lives and who do not belong to a religious group, according to the Pew Research Center, have risen in numbers from an estimated 21 million in 2008 to more than 36 million now.”
As with all things, there are humanist organizations and websites and magazines and all sorts of other outgrowths seeking to galvanize those who share this approach to life and to present counter-narratives to the religious ones that seem to control our societies.
But I am not a joiner — no clubs, movements, political parties, etc. It’s a lifestyle that was cemented by three decades as a journalist, seeking to remain objective in the pursuit of news by keeping all groups (and individuals outside the newsroom, for that matter) at arms length.
So, I do not go so far as to promote humanism or its group priorities. I keep my beliefs private unless provoked or spurred into a (hopefully) calm or rational discourse by external events, as is the case here.
I understand the desire to find meaning in our crazy human lives by assigning control or power to a spiritual being — some force, outside what we can see or touch, that provides an explanation for all the seemingly illogical things that take place: “It’s God’s will,” “God works in mysterious ways,” “if God had intended it to happen it would have happened.”
Without presenting the many arguments for why such a spiritual force makes no sense to me, or why the world’s plethora of different religions obviously means no one is the right one, I will just say my mind simply cannot wrap around the notion that external forces are shaping what happens.
That’s just me.
Most unnerving, the acceptance of a willful God overseeing our world seems to make him a very mean and evil presence, allowing beheadings, torture, wars, slaughters and all kind of cruel and ugly acts to take place, many in the name of religion.
That alone makes me doubt the existence of God, even with the old Catholic rationalization of “free will” — that God somehow is a wonderful supreme being because he gave his creations the absolute freedom to choose their paths in life, even if that makes them horribly bad.
Just sayin’. If You’re up there Lord, Ya just gotta intervene before making any of Your “creations” suffer such really bad fates.
Anyway, back to the basic point, it’s fine with me if the majority of people want to believe in a supernatural being and practice their beliefs.
And I’m okay if anyone wants to push even further, as long as I can just shake my head and walk away, we’ll all be alright — bugged, maybe, but alright.