In what ways is religious life different from non-religious life? If you ask this question to people like me who have been on both sides of this fence, the answer you get from each person will probably be different to some extent. Even though many of us follow the same paths in life, we each have our own experiences with those paths. Just because I followed Christianity for a number of years doesn’t mean I had the same experiences as everyone else who has followed that religion. For one thing, there are many different sects of Christianity, many of which have different ideas and visions regarding the correct way to follow Jesus and interpret scripture. Similarly, the fact that someone refrains from practicing any religions doesn’t mean that person will have the same experiences and opinions as everyone else who refrains from following a religion. For one thing, not all of these people label themselves in the same way. Some call themselves atheists. Some call themselves agnostics. For myself, I tend to go either with agnostic or non-theist, since I don’t believe in a personal god, but I am somewhat open to a deistic god of some nature, though I do think that even a god of that variety is quite unlikely. For those who may not know, a deistic god is a god who exerts very little if any influence over his creation. People who believe in such a god are called deists, and many of them believe that god created matter and energy, set the scientific laws into motion, and then let the universe work on its own. Not every deist believes this, but most deists hold beliefs that are similar to this in some way.
As I have already stated, the differences between religious life and non-religious life are pretty broad and subjective. Nonetheless, I have assembled a list of three ways in which my life is different now that I am a non-theist as compared to when I was a Christian. I am sure some people who have been down the same roads I have been down will be able to relate to this, and I’m sure many will have different stories to tell.
1. I now accept the Theory of Evolution and the Big Bang Theory. When I was a Christian, I rejected evolution. I believed in a literal interpretation of the creation account in Genesis, and I really did believe that the Earth and universe were created within a week’s time sometime within the last six to ten thousand years. As I broke away from my religious faith, I studied both theories a little more intensely, and I realized that they are both sound scientific models, and that to reject them is simply preposterous.
2. I have more respect for the separation of church and state now than I did when I was a Christian. During the peak of my Christian life, I could not understand for the life of me why school prayer had been “banned” back in the early 1960s. I frequently hoped the government would reconsider this and reinstate prayer time into the schedule in all of the public schools. When people pointed out that there were people in this country who weren’t Christian, and that it wouldn’t be fair to ask them to participate in a religious practice they didn’t believe in, I bristled. The way I saw it, Christians were the majority in this country, and the majority made the rules. I now realize that mandatory prayer has no place in the public schools, and that minorities do not have to be dominated by majorities.
3. The world seems a lot bigger and more interesting to me now than it did before. Since I have studied science a little more thoroughly, I have become more aware of how everything works here on Earth and in the rest of the universe. When I realize how vast, diverse, and mysterious the universe is, I feel amazed and honored to be a part of it. When I think of the billions upon billions of stars, planets, and galaxies that there are beyond our skies, I feel small, humbled, and empowered all at the same time. The fact that there are billions of galaxies beyond the small handful of celestial bodies that I see when I stand below the night sky incites a paradox within me. Initially, I feel very insignificant and meaningless. But at the same time, I am overcome with awe and amazement. To think that there are billions upon billions of galaxies beyond the sky I see above me, and that these galaxies are each filled with billions of stars and planets that are burning and orbiting as I go throughout my day-to-day business fills me with a sense of gratitude. Many of the stars I see are hundreds, thousands, or even millions of light years away. This means that when I gaze above the nighttime horizon, the faint light that is caressing my eyes possibly left those stars when the Black Death was ravaging Europe, when the Egyptians were building the Sphinx, or when the early hominids were living in Africa. Yes, I feel tiny, but it’s a pleasant tiny. I amount to less than a speck of dust in this cosmos that spans hundreds of billions of light years and contains nebulae, quasars, comets, solar systems, and possibly even sentient life forms other than the ones found here on Earth, and it’s an honor to be a part of something so immense, regardless of how miniscule that part may be.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The "God of the Gaps" and Complacency
When religious discussions are taking place, topics such as the origin of life and the origin of the universe often arise. Theists habitually see these topics as troublesome for atheists since our species has not yet acquired definitive answers for questions such as “What caused the Big Bang?” and “Exactly how did life first originate?” When an atheist in engaged in rhetoric with a theist---who is usually a Christian or Muslim---the theist will commonly attempt to take the atheist down a roller coaster of questions, all of which are inextricably linked to the one asked before it. A few examples of these questions are:
1. If there really is no god, then how did we get such a diverse array of life here on Earth?
2. If the diversity of life we have here on Earth was brought about by evolution, then how did evolution get started?
3. If evolution started with one cell, then where did that cell come from?
And the list goes on.
They often think that by attempting to take the atheist down a never-ending hierarchy of questions regarding the origins of everything, they can somehow make their point stronger. Their underlying motive is that by finding something that has not yet been explained by science, they can make a stronger case for a higher power, particularly their higher power. When they question a non-believer about the origin of life or the cause of the Big Bang, and the non-believer gives the honest answer of “That is not yet known,” they typically feel as though they have put the non-believer in checkmate. They operate under the rationale that pointing out an unknown equates total victory for themselves in an argument.
Before I go further, let me be upfront and state that I feel a little strange in offering a critique of this tactic, because I used to employ it myself back when I argued for Christian theism. Perhaps the reason why I felt it incumbent upon myself to address this matter is that it reminds me a little of how I used to see the world. Be that as it may, I wanted to confront this tactic because it is used quite often, because it isn’t a good way to argue, and because many people appear to see it as a very cunning and highly effective way to make a case for a deity.
First, I would like to talk about the general logic behind this tactic, and then I will talk briefly about a state of mind that this tactic helps enforce. The ultimate reasoning behind asking for the origins of life and the universe is this: If we can’t explain it in naturalistic terms, then it must be the work of God. We don’t know exactly what caused the Big Bang, so that means that God must have done it. At this point in time, we don’t know exactly how life first came about, so that means it couldn’t have happened naturally and that God must be responsible for everything. At this point, such reasoning might still seem sound to some people. However, try applying this reasoning to something else, such as the topic of germs and diseases.
Before the 1800s, people did not know that germs caused diseases. People attempted to explain diseases with numerous possibilities. Prior to the discovery of germs, a few of the common explanations for diseases were sin, divine wrath, evil spirits, and bad body humours. People attempted to heal sick people with numerous treatments, many of which were magical in nature. People hundreds and thousands of years ago did not know exactly what it was that made people sick, therefore they guessed the causes, and some of the guesses became accepted as truth. These explanations may have seemed sufficient at the time. However, they were far from being accurate, as was later pointed out by Louis Pasteur. Imagine the following conversation taking place in the times before germs were discovered.
“Hey, you know what? I don’t think diseases are caused by spirits, God’s anger, or anything magical.”
“Oh really? And why is it that you say that?”
“It just seems more reasonable to say that there is a natural explanation. We‘ve found natural explanations for other things, why can‘t there be a natural explanation for sickness, too?”
“Well, no natural explanation has ever been found, so that shows that people get sick because of evil spirits.”
Surely, everyone must see the problem here. In the above hypothetical, the believer in magic maintained that since no natural explanation had yet been found for diseases, then a supernatural answer would suffice. Theists who use science’s current lack of answers regarding the origins of life and the universe are utilizing the same type of reasoning. They are saying that since we do not yet know the answers to these questions, then there must be a supernatural explanation, and that supernatural explanation is God. Essentially, what they are doing is inventing an answer to a question instead of looking for an answer. This is not only illogical, but it is also unfavorable to the progression of science, mainly because it stunts our quest for knowledge by making us complacent with not knowing things. And on that note, I will segue into the topic of complacency.
Complacency, defined as self-satisfaction with unawareness, is rarely a good thing. It isn’t always harmful to our lives or our overall well-being, but it isn’t very often a good thing. Imagine if people before the 1800s, remained complacent with not knowing exactly what caused diseases. We never would have discovered germs, and we never would have developed adequate treatments and cures for any diseases, and consequently, our life expectancies probably would be lower than they presently are. Granted, complacency regarding the origins of life and the cause of the Big Bang may not have the same effect on our species as complacency in regards to the cause of disease. Nonetheless, arbitrarily attributing divine explanations for things we have not yet explained breeds feelings of complacency. It enables us become satisfied with not knowing the things we do not know. To some, this may not sound like a big deal, and perhaps it isn’t as big of a deal as some might make it out to be. But consider this. When we discovered germs, we were able to develop better treatments for them. In other words, one discovery led to even more discoveries. If we discovered the origin of life, where would that take us? If we found out what caused the Big Bang, where could we go from there?
1. If there really is no god, then how did we get such a diverse array of life here on Earth?
2. If the diversity of life we have here on Earth was brought about by evolution, then how did evolution get started?
3. If evolution started with one cell, then where did that cell come from?
And the list goes on.
They often think that by attempting to take the atheist down a never-ending hierarchy of questions regarding the origins of everything, they can somehow make their point stronger. Their underlying motive is that by finding something that has not yet been explained by science, they can make a stronger case for a higher power, particularly their higher power. When they question a non-believer about the origin of life or the cause of the Big Bang, and the non-believer gives the honest answer of “That is not yet known,” they typically feel as though they have put the non-believer in checkmate. They operate under the rationale that pointing out an unknown equates total victory for themselves in an argument.
Before I go further, let me be upfront and state that I feel a little strange in offering a critique of this tactic, because I used to employ it myself back when I argued for Christian theism. Perhaps the reason why I felt it incumbent upon myself to address this matter is that it reminds me a little of how I used to see the world. Be that as it may, I wanted to confront this tactic because it is used quite often, because it isn’t a good way to argue, and because many people appear to see it as a very cunning and highly effective way to make a case for a deity.
First, I would like to talk about the general logic behind this tactic, and then I will talk briefly about a state of mind that this tactic helps enforce. The ultimate reasoning behind asking for the origins of life and the universe is this: If we can’t explain it in naturalistic terms, then it must be the work of God. We don’t know exactly what caused the Big Bang, so that means that God must have done it. At this point in time, we don’t know exactly how life first came about, so that means it couldn’t have happened naturally and that God must be responsible for everything. At this point, such reasoning might still seem sound to some people. However, try applying this reasoning to something else, such as the topic of germs and diseases.
Before the 1800s, people did not know that germs caused diseases. People attempted to explain diseases with numerous possibilities. Prior to the discovery of germs, a few of the common explanations for diseases were sin, divine wrath, evil spirits, and bad body humours. People attempted to heal sick people with numerous treatments, many of which were magical in nature. People hundreds and thousands of years ago did not know exactly what it was that made people sick, therefore they guessed the causes, and some of the guesses became accepted as truth. These explanations may have seemed sufficient at the time. However, they were far from being accurate, as was later pointed out by Louis Pasteur. Imagine the following conversation taking place in the times before germs were discovered.
“Hey, you know what? I don’t think diseases are caused by spirits, God’s anger, or anything magical.”
“Oh really? And why is it that you say that?”
“It just seems more reasonable to say that there is a natural explanation. We‘ve found natural explanations for other things, why can‘t there be a natural explanation for sickness, too?”
“Well, no natural explanation has ever been found, so that shows that people get sick because of evil spirits.”
Surely, everyone must see the problem here. In the above hypothetical, the believer in magic maintained that since no natural explanation had yet been found for diseases, then a supernatural answer would suffice. Theists who use science’s current lack of answers regarding the origins of life and the universe are utilizing the same type of reasoning. They are saying that since we do not yet know the answers to these questions, then there must be a supernatural explanation, and that supernatural explanation is God. Essentially, what they are doing is inventing an answer to a question instead of looking for an answer. This is not only illogical, but it is also unfavorable to the progression of science, mainly because it stunts our quest for knowledge by making us complacent with not knowing things. And on that note, I will segue into the topic of complacency.
Complacency, defined as self-satisfaction with unawareness, is rarely a good thing. It isn’t always harmful to our lives or our overall well-being, but it isn’t very often a good thing. Imagine if people before the 1800s, remained complacent with not knowing exactly what caused diseases. We never would have discovered germs, and we never would have developed adequate treatments and cures for any diseases, and consequently, our life expectancies probably would be lower than they presently are. Granted, complacency regarding the origins of life and the cause of the Big Bang may not have the same effect on our species as complacency in regards to the cause of disease. Nonetheless, arbitrarily attributing divine explanations for things we have not yet explained breeds feelings of complacency. It enables us become satisfied with not knowing the things we do not know. To some, this may not sound like a big deal, and perhaps it isn’t as big of a deal as some might make it out to be. But consider this. When we discovered germs, we were able to develop better treatments for them. In other words, one discovery led to even more discoveries. If we discovered the origin of life, where would that take us? If we found out what caused the Big Bang, where could we go from there?
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