When asked what my religious beliefs are, I have been in the habit of telling people (to keep things simple) that I'm an atheist.
That should do it. But it never does, and probably never will. When I have told religious adherents that I am atheist (in some ways, a personal equilibrium which is as unchanging a psychological state as congenital color blindness), they often assume that not only do I possess a certain mindset, but that I am somehow innately opposed to religious beliefs (particularly theirs). In reality, I'm simply uninterested in personally expressing any religious view points. I'm not opposed to other people's religious pursuits. Rather more to the point, I am simply disinterested.
The title of this essay, of course, betrays the fact that I am a quiet pantheist. Similarly I have recently started pursuing the Buddhist path. These may at first flush seem surprising, even self-contradictions; but, as you shall see as you get to the end of this essay, I'm full of contradictions. Buddhism in its most basic essence, is not a faith, because Buddhism isn't a theistic system. More on that later.
But back to the problem: In encounters where such acquaintances take exception to my self-professed atheism, I have found there are many implicit assumptions they hold. I find that they immediately know more about my ideological cast than even I do: Since I am not "A", then I must be "Z". I find myself stereotyped, whereby I come to be painted with the broad brushes of preconceived religious notions about atheists and agnostics.
For instance, not only have I been mistakenly told "Well then, since you believe there is no God.." it is assumed I invoke the name of science to support a belief there is no God. The ironies become quite frustrating, of course, because my absence of belief does not mean that I reside in an opposite "No such thing as God" camp. But the error is further compounded when the stereotypes come rolling in, so that my presumed anti-theism is further framed by disreputable scientific elitism. Even worse, my wife or I have been told we have "rejected" Jesus (implicit in such statements is that we somehow hold their religion in disdain).
I used to be quite annoyed by the stereotypes of atheists. Atheism is simply "without theistic belief" and should not be mistaken as meaning "against theistic belief." While some atheists may harbor some strong anti-theistic sentiments, there are many atheists who do not. So, as time has worn on, however, I am less surprised by such stereotypes, for reasons I will enumerate:
First of all, the grand duchess of atheism, Madilyn Murray-O'Hair was quite open in her contempt of religious faith. Perhaps there were none better suited to pursue a legal campaign in support of separation of church and state than Ms. O'Hair, who qualified as a 'true believer' in her own rite. However, the Murray-O'Hair brand of atheism, which I have termed "antitheism," has left a great deal of antagonistic "doctrine" in her wake. The O'Hairian doctrine was, in fact, so severe, that they sometimes disparaged some nominal friends, such as many self-proclaimed agnostics, whom the O'Hairs referred to in one monograph as "gutless... keeping one foot in the God camp." (The O'Hairs strongly resisted the notion that the definitional use of 'agnosticism' has drifted into a more non-theistic and literal "without knowing," away from its 19th century origins in Christian metaphysical thought.)
Secondly, many (but not all) atheists are themselves refugees from theistic indoctrination, recovering from the confusion and turmoil caused by unreasoned teaching and application of the faith. Various religious sects have earned a well-deserved reputation for doctrinaire absolutism. As a result, many atheists are antagonistic in varying degrees towards religion in general. It doesn't help matters when atheists, as souls recovering from the ravages of doctrine, are confronted by atavistic attitudes from belligerent believers. Suffice it to say, this only serves to reinforce their frustrations and further drive them towards diametrically opposed antitheistic absolutes (politically and philosophically). From my own experience, I can say it is perfectly understandable, that in the course of establishing my own identity, I distanced myself as far as possible from my former faith; I was simply tired of being told that thinking for myself, whether in matters of personal ethics, theosophical curiosity, or interpretation of scripture, was wrong.
Thirdly, Christiandom is greatly injured by the snake-oil brand of Christianity being peddled by televangelist charlatans, the most reknown and notorious of whom have been caught variously fleecing their flocks or indulging in unseemly sexual pecadillos (Jimmy Baker and Jimmy Swaggart immediately come to mind, but there are others). It's hard to not feel contempt for any system that can facilitate such wanton abuses of its followers trust by ambitious opportunists or such willing obsequity by congregations to what seem obviously corrupt car salesmen selling religion, salvation, absolution and redemption. If such abuses could be simply dismissed as show business or a Sunday's entertainment, it wouldn't be so disconcerting. But when the life savings of retirees are siphoned away, or political winds blow with the outraged storms of televangelistic rhetoric, people of many religious stripes (not just atheists) are taken aback.
These artifacts of the social framework (in the U.S.A.) have resulted in our more outspoken atheists framing their social dilemmas as either-or propositions, and hence, the stereotype. However unfortunate, it should come as no surprise that much public discourse falls back on the easy formula of dichotomy, conservative vs. liberal, Republican vs. Democrat. Although it may be argued the process of social change inheres dialectics, for good or ill, the perception of dialectic overlooks the reality of continuum.
Nor are atheists alone in this partitioning of the social corpus callosum. Christians are taught that the world hinges between good and evil, ecclesiastical and secular, sacred and profane. These Christian perceptions are especially driven by a salvation ideology that sees strong distinctions between those who are believers and those who are not.
The resulting ideological frisson tends to be then framed in the format of for-or-against, this-or-that, either-or. It doesn't matter that such dialectical framing isn't accurate. Unless people have the opportunity to learn otherwise, a perception of dichotomies drives their world view.
It is not necessarily the case, if one runs away from one thing, one must also be running towards something else. While many atheists may be ex-believers running away from religion, it is wrong to assume they are necessarily running towards anything else. Indeed, science or transcultural humanism may influence a person's drift towards atheism, but science cannot disprove the existance of something (God) that cannot be tested, nor does humanism hold any prejudices against any one of the world's religions.
Alas, most religious people with whom I have had these inadvertant theological discussion are actually surprised by these subtle distinctions in my self-professed atheism, so I attribute their mistaken stereotypes to simple ignorance. At least they haven't displayed the willful ignorance of militant atheists who have seemed to go out of their way to alienate me with their anti-everything rhetoric. Radicalism, in response to prejudice, often leads to more prejudices.
So atheism, in its most basic form, is a simple disinterest in religion, and an equal disinterest in any dialectic related to religion. Once a proper distance is attained, the running is over; once a drowning soul makes it to shore, he stops swimming from the stormy sea. Once he catches his breath, he is free to breath fresh air, view the horizon, and perhaps wade into the ocean once again.
SCIENCE:
Sadly, there are those atheists of a more antitheistic bent who acerbically deride the faithful as foolishly ascribing to superstitions and fantasies, and that these silly notions can be "disproven" by logic and reason, the ultimate litmus being science. Those pursuing this line of argument have often sought to disprove the existence of God, and in the process, invoked the name of science to reinforce their argument.
I will contend that this is a mistaken line of reasoning used by some atheists. First of all, atheism, in its basic form, does not seek to disprove anything, it is simply an absence of belief.
Moreover, science cannot assist in disproving the existence of God. One of the cornerstones of the scientific method is the seminal works of Karl Popper. In Popper's philosophy of science, a theory can neither be proven nor disproven if it is not testable.
The existence or non-existence of God simply can not be tested by science.
Indeed, atheists should keep their sense of humor lest they be guilty of committing the same intellectual 'sin' of which they accuse the faithful: Insisting in proving (in the Popperian sense) something that is scientifically unprovable (in this case, the NON-existence of God).
Atheists of a more militant bent can be nailed upon their own cross of rationalism and reason because attempts at proving the NON-EXISTENCE of God are completely futile; it is impossible to prove the non-existance of something, especially when that something can neither be described, quantified, or tested.
MY DARWIN FISH, YOUR JESUS FISH:
Ah, yes, that infernal Darwin Fish hanging on the back of my car. At first, it seemed a delightful way to proclaim to the world, "I hold this world view with a sense of humor." My original intent was never to mock the Icthus fish adorning the cars of Christians, but rather to provide an amusing public proclamation of my own world view in counterbalance to the ubiquitous Icthus "Jesus" Fish.
However, if we look a bit more closely at the Darwin himself, the Darwin Fish makes a much more subtle point.
Charles Darwin's second major work, "The Descent of Man," was long suppressed by none other than Darwin himself. Darwin was a self-described agnostic. In 19th-century terms, agnosticism was a predominantly Christian issue, suggesting one held an internal debate about the ultimate existence of a God (it was not uncommon for 19th-century thinkers to hold deistic views of the universe; it has been noted repeatedly that many of the authors of the United States Constitution were in fact Deists). In some (disputed) biographical work on Darwin, it has been suggested that Darwin may have remained a Christian throughout his life, albeit alienated from traditional Christian doctrine. This line of thinking holds that Darwin suffered some ambivalence about publishing his last great work - in part from an aversion to public controvery, but also in part from personal spiritual questions.
In any case, his associates prevailed upon Darwin that the world should have the option to judge the truth for itself. After great deliberation and careful thought, Darwin changed his mind and published the work before his death.
So at least for myself, there is a great deal more ironic meaning to the 'in your face' satire immediately apparent in the notorious Darwin Fish.
ACCEPT JESUS OR REJECT JESUS:
Atheism should not be viewed as anti-theistic. In the same way the Hindu pantheon isn't anti-Christian, atheism isn't anti-believing. (Actually, many Hindus are quite comfortable with Jesus and Yahweh as part of their general pantheon, although in practice most Hindus are henotheistic)
If a Christian 'accepts Jesus,' it is wrong to in turn assume a non-Christian 'rejects Jesus.' If I do not accept British currency, yes, I will reject a one-pound note.
A person's beliefs, however, should not be trivialized as a form of exchange or social currency (although it often is).
MAY I TURN THIS DIALECTIC SWITCH OFF?
I'd like to argue it isn't "Atheism vs. Faith" after all. The issue can remain safely in the realm of mutual respect unless, that is, the participants in the discussion find each other's world views somehow threatening. Looking over the fence into the theist side of the issue, I offer this observation: if the test of true faith is that, in the face of doubts, the faithful continue to believe, then the disbelief of others should be of no concern for the devout.
It needn't be an either-or proposition. As for myself, I'm not out to convert anyone, I am by no means an evangelical atheist. I tend to react with greater irritation, not to people espousing beliefs, but rather to the inadvertant framing of my position within the confines of the squabbling dialectic. This is because my personal world view is even more complex than I have initially revealed.
In fact, I qualify poorly as an atheist. When heartfelt occasions arise, I do pray for suffering souls, using a nondescript persona (avatar, if you will) as the divine means of forwarding my hopes through the chaos of the universe. I find myself personally attracted to raw spiritualism unencumbered by the overburden of doctrine, supernatural personae and other memes typical of organized religion.
In addition to the fact I have recently come into Buddhist practice, I suppose I could be more aptly termed a gnostic pantheist (or perhaps a better description I've coined: a meta-theistic romantic anarcho-humanist).
My pantheism depends on my mood, the number of blue moons lined up across the galaxy and the random flux in the subquantum field, so sometimes I may think like an atheist and other times my sentiments are ineffable. The atheist label seems easier, but it does come with more baggage, and I would make for a poor atheist in a foxhole. Atheist, non-theist, pantheist, Buddhist: no one label suits me well.
Buddhism may be classified as a non-theistic system of beliefs and practices that, when practiced, guides a person towards mindfulness, compassion and transcendence. As a result, Buddhism is completely compatible with other belief systems (it is often practiced integrated with other belief systems in Asia). From what I know, that includes pantheism, full-blown theistic systems such as Christianity, and my own peculiar atheistic, non-theistic and pantheistic world views.
Obviously there are many kinds of faith and beliefs, but I'm speaking specifically to the issue of faith-beliefs. In the Judaic theistic religious traditions (Christianity, Judea, Islam) there is a great emphasis upon "exclusion" of other belief systems. And in the social application of every major religion there are the teaching of ethics and mores.
But looking more broadly in in the social context of religious convictions, I see religious beliefs as a function of ego and identity formation, which in turn are heavy interlaced with social context. This is where "emotional beliefs" form, in repeated cycles of opening & surrendering (Buddhist teachers are very forthright about this cyclic aspect of training).
Humans have a cognitive switch that governs the ability to "accept" anything that might violate one's ties to their social group. The deeper the anxiety-based social patterning, the greater the perceived threat to the integrity of the relationship back to the group. If the social-reinforcement of a person's belief-system is strong, then there will be more uncomfortable facts that pose the threat of cognitive dissonance as well as the loss of social cohesion.
In my view, beliefs are cognitive defenses erected around surrender in order to keep it from breaking loose into the wrong contexts. I see "belief" as a very deep-rooted mammalian trait, having social-mammal functions with memeplex cognitive overlays specific to humans. But for me, this whole vast array of questions goes far beyond the matter of believing.
That rationalizes my gut reaction to most religions (even the self-consciously nontheist ways of Buddhism). With all their various trappings of personas and symbols, religions pose me the problem of clouding the experience of divinity, because the doctrines and iconography distract from the numinal scale of divine experience. My answer to the question of religion pivots on asking that if everything is a divine reflection of God, the immanence of whom resides in all creation, then do mere human symbols may serve to anthropomorphize and oversimplify the majesty of creation?
I'm willing to concede that for many of the faithful, religious traditions not only do not impede their experience but actually serve accentuate the connection to the divine. But in the same breath, I can tell you I'll never be able to make theistic religion work for me, personally.
And there's no reason anyone should insist that I try. Spiritual journeys are complex, if not difficult, things. The extent of these journeys are potentially very challenging, even daunting. I feel that the infinitesimal shore between the singular consciousness of a soul within, contemplating the impossible ocean of the world beyond, is a differential vastness into which few dare let their imaginations fall. Religions may be of help, but I have seen how the cultural application of religion tends to throw bureaucratic layers between the individual and their contact with divinity.
For my own personal journey in seeking the unknowable, religious doctrine, with all its attendant cultural baggage would be no more helpful to me in navigating the mystical depths of a relationship with divinity than staring at a billboard proclaiming "The Grand Canyon" which stands between me and the precipice of a vast fractalesque wonder. Step around the symbol and look behind it, and behold, you are gazing into the vast abyss (and heaven help you if it gazes back). The universe is an omniscient place: a mere human's consciousness is like a water molecule trying to rise out of the ocean. We ride the wave of the present, but the present continually evaporates into the past. Spirituality opens up the possibility that the future promise of hopes and prayers may define us as much as the collection of moments behind us.
This isn't to throw stones at other people's ideological houses, again this is simply a reflection of my own intuitive sense of spiritual matters. I should not be mistaken as saying "having no concept of God at all is better than to have one that is unworthy of Him." Rather, I prefer to be unencumbered by doctrine in experiencing wonderment at the riches of my universe, both within and without.
Finally, I'll quote a recent popular essay, "Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself." We are all climbing metaphysical mountains, and great learning opportunities await in watching the different techniques employed by those in active ascent. It does no good to cast aspersions towards fellow mountain climbers who use a different technique.
After all, the climb is long and arduous. Regardless of the methods used, at the end of the climb we all hope to look back upon the trail we chose and reflect upon the places we have walked.
Additional quotes:
Empiricists seem to conceptualize "faith" as a propositional creature, i.e. as the act accepting something is "true" without regard to evidence. That is not what faith is, even for a religious person (though he may think otherwise). Faith is an act; it is the act of trust required in order to act in the face of the unknown.
Human beings act, and they act in the face of the unknown. This is intrinsic to the human condition. So-called religious faith is simply faith in the religious context. In the empirical context, faith expresses itself as acceptance in the continued efficacy of natural laws, as well as in the time and effort any given empiricist invests in a hopeful hypothesis. Faith is not *knowing* something is true; it is acting in the face of not knowing, but trusting that the result will get you where you want to go." -- Herne <herne@gte.net>, on the alt.christnet newsgroup.
"..Any sensitive religious person knows that the universe is an ambiguous place and can be legitimately interpreted as demonstrating a complete lack of design or purpose. Common ground can be found in working together to improve the world as it is - one group feeling they are responding to the voice of God and the other that they are making things better in spite of the lack of the same."