Stumble it!So why am I not a christian?
posted in Religion by themaiden |Someone I knew long ago quipped to me that “all of the smart people stopped believing two hundred years ago.” Unfortunately, that isn’t true. While it seems that sanity did briefly start to take hold a few hundred years back, all of the smart people did not stop believing. Reason, in the whole, failed to escape the jaws of superstition and quite a large number of smart people do still believe– a fact which provides me no end of puzzlement, as we will get to eventually.
So, why am I not a Christian?
- Well, accepting Christianity, or religion in general, for that matter, would require me to accept ‘facts’ which in most contexts would be considered irrational, if not downright insane. Harsh? What else can one say about a belief system ripe with magic, demons, witches and giants? No one– not the most fundamental of fundamentalists– believes in magic, demons, witches, fairies, gnomes, elves, or hookah smoking caterpillars in any context but the religious. But in the Biblical context, for example? In the Biblical context, anything goes. The animation of dirt-people? Why not? Talking shrubbery? Sure. Sentient storm clouds? Okey Dokey. Sticks that turn into snakes? Yep. Fires that don’t burn? Yes, indeed-ie. Zombies and the living dead? No problem… if Jesus is involved. Pig-suicide-causing evil spirits? Yep, those too. In short, to accept Christianity, I’d have to commit myself to a belief in magic.
- Having committed myself to believing in magic, I’d then have to reconcile this belief with the fact that I’ve not ever witnessed, nor do I expect to ever witness, any such thing as magic– short of the Criss Angel variety. I’d probably do this by special pleading that… well, magic used to happen a very long time ago but it doesn’t anymore. I’m not sure why. I guess there is no good reason really, but to be a good Christian and (for me, at least) not go mad from the cognitive disjunct, I’d have to concoct one. I could, perhaps, twiddle with the logic a bit and claim that the lack of magic now does not imply the lack of magic then. Of course, in order to support the case I’d have to assume that a book of literature, folk tale, and myth is in fact, fact. Even so, I’ll not have explained why the magic stopped.
- Accepting Christianity would require me to accept as fact a book which tells tales of ancient events baring little resemblance to the currently available evidence, as little history, or science, favors what the Bible states. That is a tough pill to swallow.
- Luckily I can wash that pill down with a little self-fullfilling prophecy. My favorite is this: if you want something, pray to God for it. If you get what you request, then god answered the prayer. Hallelujah! But if you don’t get what you request, God still answered the prayer; he simply gave you a different answer than you wanted. He said “No.” Miraculously, God can be proven to always answer prayer. Unfortunately, the argument also works for the TV, or for Howard Stern, or for the purple Tele-Tubby. If you get what you want, the TV gave it to you; if not, then the TV gave you something it, in its greater wisdom, decided that you need more than you need the thing for which you asked. Amazing! No. Amazing Grace!
- Wow! That is a heady cocktail, but to make things worse, not only is there no positive evidence for the validity of the Bible, but it contradicts virtually every observation about the universe that we are able to make, thereby casting doubt on its veracity as a whole, just as marching to the top of Mt. Olympus casts doubt on the veracity of Greek Myth. The structure of the stars and planets, the lack of evidence for a worldwide flood, the existence of dinosaur bones- nowhere do dinosaurs figure in Biblical tales. From where did they come? God must be playing one hell of a practical joke on we poor humans- that is, to tell us one thing and provide no evidence, yet provide mountains of evidence for the wrong answer. What a kidder! There are of course, Christians trying to force scientific evidence into a Biblical mold- the creationist crowd. My meager ablities are far more than adequate to poke holes in the junk science which these people produce. And I can do so in a matter of minutes. It is truly shameful. I’ve seen articles which start with sentences such as, “This is how God could have created the universe.” Could have? What does that mean? Mickey Mouse could have created the world by impregnating his concubine, Donald Duck, with the pubic hair of a smurf; but there is no evidence for that either. Of course, as a Christian, I’d have to accept the same junk science. You see, I agree with some of the radical creationists about one thing: If the Bible is wrong about the basic physics of the universe, why ought we trust it with the spiritual?
- Simultaneously with accepting the Bible’s ahistorical tales as fact, I’d be obligated to reject as superstition and myth countless other such very similar tales from around the world– this, despite those tale’s having all the same claims to validity as the tales in the Bible, which, essentially means that people believe them, or used to believe them, and somebody wrote them down. Of course, I’ll not apply the same methods of reasoning– the textual criticism, the archeology, the cross-cultural comparisons– to my faith that I use to discount all those other wrong faiths.
- Similarly, I’d be obligated to reject as superstition, fairly tales, and lies a good half-dozen common religions with their numerous associated gods and goddesses. I’d have to maintain that these various faiths were founded on and perpetuated by trickery and deceit, and depend upon human gullibility. I would of course resist applying to my own religion the methods of evaluation that I invoke to criticise other faiths. That could be dangerous. ‘Strange as it may be, the question I asked long years ago was not “Is God?” but “Which God?” The question was not one of rebellion– not an attempt to avoid the consequences of believing in a higher power, but an expression of the desire to follow the dictates of the correct higher power. This is the one question the faithful should not ask, for it is the death of certainty.’
- This then brings up the issue of faith, and it is a complicated one. Faith, somehow, makes everything ok. Somehow, believing, or deciding to believe, makes all the contradictions go away. Faith is the evidence of things unseen. It proves all of those things we can’t prove… somehow. Well, it proves that someone believes something. It doesn’t prove that what that someone believes is true. As a new, or renewed I suppose, Christian I’d just have to get used to believing ’cause… uh, ’cause… ummm…. just because… um, just because I believe… and stuff.
- Of course, faith only makes it better if that faith is the Correct Faith– that is, my newfound Christian faith– which can only be found by faith and must be believed on faith… um, the Correct Faith but not the incorrect ones… uh… the difference between the two can be known by faith…
- But that isn’t very fulfilling is it? No. Certainly not. In fact it feels a bit childish. It would be much better to put faith on a pedestal and treat belief based on nothing at all as a badge of honor. Perhaps I’d tell myself the story of doubting Thomas. Mr. Doubting Thomas had quite a reasonable thought- “Is this really the guy I saw DIE the other day”- and acts upon it. The poor fool asks for evidence, and is chastised for it. Two thousand years later, the story is still good for teaching the faithful not to ask questions, not to ask for evidence. Why? Well, there isn’t any. That is what faith is for.
- And that is what quoting the Bible is for. Once converted I’d start quoting it like mad too. I’ll develop, like every Christian with whom I have ever spoken, a strange inability to grasp the fact that quoting the Bible in no way influences people who do not already believe the Bible. This ought to be obvious, but it isn’t. I can quote anything I like, but unless my listener has a reason to believe my source, my quotations are meaningless. For example, if I quote Stephen Hawking while discussing a matter of cosmology or physics, the point ought to have some weight. After all, Hawking is quite brilliant and very well respected in his field. But if, on the other hand, I were to quote from “Boom-Boom La-Boom; The Musings of a Martian Stripper on Qualudes” concerning Superstring theory, it would be wise to doubt the source. Unfortunately, Christians don’t realize that the Bible is in the later category, and not the former. But, as a new convert, I’d have to swallow that too.
- I’d also have to get used to quoting the Bible to prove that God wrote it so I can prove that the Bible is true. This is the old “the Bible says it is the word of God, so I believe it” argument; and it is circular- as circular as Barb’s enhanced mams. Oh, but, circular arguments don’t count.
- The worst people I have ever known have been Christians, and I’ve known a lot of Christians. I was raised by them. I grew up surrounded by them. Everything I know about lying, deceit, spite, hate, anger, violence, vengefulness, cruelty, and abuse, I learned from Christians. Who was it that quipped “by their fruits shall you know them“?
- Christians get called “stupid” to their faces by their God and they don’t seem to mind at all. Now, if it were me, I’d be very offended. What? How dare you? The answer is ‘Sheep’. The Bible calls the faithful sheep. Sheep are stupid– very, very stupid.
So, in effect, I am not a Christian because becoming one would force me into some profound intellectual dishonesty, and that is why I puzzle over how so many smart people do still believe. The logic twisting required to keep such belief afloat is staggering, as is the willingness to simply not think about certain topics and to think about various topics inconsistently.
And you wonder what is wrong with the world dominated by so many of the faithful. This dishonesty is bound to carry over into other aspects of life.
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