In the same spirit as my last Declaration of Humanism, but hopefully building on it as opposed to being redundant, this is a response I wrote to a friend who asked me about my beliefs.
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This will be verbose, for which I apologize. The fact of the matter is, however, that when two people have a wide difference in perspective, they can’t communicate about it via pithy aphorisms or concise arguments. A fundamental disparity in point of view takes quite a bit of effort to express and elucidate in a manner conducive to mutual understanding, so here’s my attempt to bridge the gap:
“but you believe in the theories/thoughts of science and philosophy (so as to find answers and reasons) more than God”
I do place a lot of value on science. It sets up the framework for my cosmic metanarrative, showing me the pieces of reality that we’ve been able to discover with confidence so far.
Science, by its very limits, tells me that there is something dog-gone amazing out there. The big bang tells us a little about our universe’s history, but not its origins. Some days it leads me to lean toward Deism, but IMO we can’t really infer that the universe “knew we were coming,” so to speak. That is to say, while I find some of it very intriguing, I do not believe so-called “natural theology” is convincing. Nonetheless the question of “why there is something intead of nothing at all” — and furthermore specifically *this* something, *us* — titillates me. I am constantly flabbergasted at my own existence, and get a deep chill down my spine when I study physics and look at the stars or ponder the nature of the equally subtle and mysterious world of mathematics. All are prone to the imponderable question: “where did it come from?” — a question we don’t know is meaningful (did it have to come from somewhere?)
But to call science my “God” — no, “God” is a word that has more subtle intimation than just the sequential story of how we came to be. I did write in an article published in Spectrum Magazine last year that “Physics is my new Bible,” but really “God” also implies a source of meaning, a guide for our daily lives, the ultimate representation of what is important and the center of our *experiential* reality. It is fundamentally human (in image of God or no), as our idea of God informs our understanding of ourselves. Science gives me something to imagine when I look up at the stars — a grand and titillating mystery, not unlike the grand mystery that is God. But as for the personal aspect, the life-guiding aspect… where does that come from?
“It is all vanity. He said ‘Im the way ,the truth and life’…Only Him will satisfy us.”
The nihilist’s motto: “Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher; all is vanity.” (Eccl. 1:2 and 12:8)
This is something all Buddhists, Jains, and Humanists must face. In most religions, the supernatural framework provides a cosmic source of meaning. We are meaningful because we are children of or are somehow connected to God, who by definition is the ultimate source of meaning. If we’re used to this sort of progression, atheism catches us off guard. How can there be meaning without God? Is it all vain?
Enter existentialism. No matter what you believe about our origins, and whether or not the universe intended for us to be here and feel this way, a multi-hued sunset over Lake Michigan with the wind just right and the waves rolling mightily into the St. Joe river is still a beautiful sight. No matter how much we philosophize it away, and tell ourselves that our conscious experience has no meaning, and it’s temporary, or otherwise vain — those qualia are still there, that experience still lands on our senses and produces a set of emotions that embedds itself in our consciousness.
The smile of a pretty girl, a supportive group of friends who pick you up when you fall instead of mocking you, Beethoven, the Iliad, a Dostoevsky novel, a sunny day, a volley-ball game with friends, a family gathering, soft blankets, an expressive painting, dancing, children laughing and chasing eachother — these are all things thath enrich our lives and are worth pursuing and creating. We like to be loved and we like to love. We have tendencies to hate and to lust, true — but most everyone agrees that these are trials to be avoided, if unconquerable, and that a community of trust and mutual support is what we genuinely desire.
And so, I call myself a “humanist,” meaning in essense “we have no idea what’s going on in the universe or where it came from, but we’re all in this together.” What exactly that means for morals and lifestyle is a subtle question, and one I’ve been struggling to elucidate. I do not think the problem is exclusive to atheism. One of your statements earlier hints at the crux of it:
“just like sex-a momentary pleasure and utterly damnable!”
Morality is parsimioniously intertwined with the concept of meaning. Does our meaning come from God? Then with no God there is no morality. But most of us — Christian, Muslim, Hindu, and atheist alike — feel that God’s laws do not define good and evil, but support and elicidate the natural laws that give rise to them. If you don’t follow God’s laws, there are natural consequences of sin that lead to pain and suffering, which are negative. If you (and your community) become more like God in your heart, your human experience will become more wonderful. As such, good and evil can be defined as what leads to the most positive human experience, individually and collectively. In any given scenario it is extremely closely connected with aesthetics, and at times I see the two as equivalent.
As to sex, it is “damnable,” I would say, in the context of lust, but not in love. But what, exactly, delineates the two? I’m talking about more than just marriage, but the underlying intuitive principle that separates genuine good from unhealthy binging. As children we all grow and are taught to have patience, to share, to accept delayed-gratification, etc. This is a microcosm of the greater questions of how to balance chewing with savoring, viewing with admiring, lusting with loving, drinking with restraint, playing with working.
I am a passionate, idealistic, and aristic individual who draws great spiritual fulflillment from his experiences. Some people are not quite that way. Ultimately it’s what caused my last girlfriend and I to break up — we saw things entirely differently. “Realist vs. Idealist,” she said.
On the one hand I feel like western postmodern culture is missing something crucial — in its emphasis on tolerance it forgets to speak of the all-important *pursuit of excellence.* Because of this I and several like me have troubles forming strong and resonant relationships outside of the Adventist community we grew up in. On the other I must acknowledge that there is a lot of diversity among people, and what I feel is the proper way to respond to life and get the most out of it may not jibe well with another, and sometimes that’s okay. What is ultimate good and what is subjective diversity — I haven’t quite figured out which is which. Most of the gray areas (how to love, whether to drink, get a tatoo, etc) are not solved by scripture, either, which means these problems would be extant were I a believer.
But now, you asked me the reason(s) I don’t believe in God.
It all boils down to something a quaint ol’ philosopher told me and several other students at a science and religion conference some years ago. Of all the sciences that could lead one to doubt, he pointed out, it’s not biology, not geology, not physics, not artificial intelligence that inspires serious questions: it’s *anthropology.* Coming in contact with people who think differently from you, and yet who use their views as a practical living philosophy, and who by all accounts appear satisfied, intelligent, and fulfilled — that will do more than anything else to shake up your confidence that your culture has all its ducks in a row.
A microcosm is silverware. I don’t recall ever seeing anyone eat rice and curry with their hands until, well, until I met you, Maureen. Even most Indians I know don’t tend to do it. I do have one close friend with family in Bangladesh who wrote me about it when she visited them. But my mother never would have let me do that as a child, not in a million years. It’s bad manners, it’s unsanitary, it’s just plain messy, it’s… it’s… wrong. Had I just read about it on the Internet, I probably never would have tried it. “Those strange foreigners and their habbits. I like my fork.” But after having been to pot-luck a few times and seen it done to nobody’s consternation, in the context of another point of view… guess what I did of my own free will at an Indian resuarant while visiting my parents (in front of my mother, no less)? Yep, I ate with my hands.
Granted, cullinary customs are a far cry cosmic truth. But methinks the analogy has merit, as it’s much the same psychological experience. You say that only He (Christ) can satisfy. Growing up Christian, hearing testimony after testimony proclaimed from the front of the church and over haystack dinners, it seemed only natural to me that a life without God is a life only half lived, and that no-one can live an enriched and complete existence without Him. They might hit upon luck and have an agape-centered character, imbued with the Holy Spirit, but in reality they need to hear the gospel, be given the good-news so they can fill in the God-shaped hole we’re all built with. This is the very definition of evaglism, which means “good news.”
I started up kids clubs called “Messengers of Christ,” and did my part to encourage and empower the army of youth to get out there and spread the word. We passed out hundreds of Steps to Christ in the town our church was in. While in Africa I travelled from village to village with the local youth leader, where (since I was white, which is a novelty) they interrupted the Sabbath School schedule impromtu and let me preach to the kids, starting up branches of the club wherever I went. I gave sermons to adults — once in front of over two thousand people (gulp!) — stressing the difference between a lips-only Christian and one who has a true communion with God. Returning to the states I joined Magabooks and became a colporteur.
That was almost ten years ago. Since then I’ve learned to listen more than I talk. And by listening, I’ve realized that I grew up eating with silverware — but the world also contains chopsticks, wooden spoons, and of course, hands. Powerful sermons are preached from many conflicting points of view. Honest and intelligent people exist in all of the major world religions. Yes, you can find examples of shallow people everywhere as well. Ergo you get preachers who claim all atheists are in reality motivated by a love of lust and sin. I hope I stand as testimony to contrary, and I think I can marshall several (Christian) friends as character witnesses. It’s much better to avoid straw men. My first rule of debate: **present the opposing view in the best possible light.** Then debunk it, if you can. But don’t misrepresent it. Empathize, empathize, empathize.
Here’s the crux of it: we are easily deluded. We can attribute supernatural qualities to a (natural) euphoric shiver down our spine (as a child I always thought that shiver was the Holy Spirit filling my body), or decide that a certain string of words in our mind is the voice of God, simply because we’re in a solemn and spiritual mood. People believe all sorts of crazy things. Even honest people. I hate that by disbelieving in God I imply that I mistrust all my friends and family’s miracle stories. But I *do* mistrust those conclusions, even if I trust the people as very honest and mature. We all have our delusions — *I* have my delusions. This is something that Buddhism stresses, which is probably why I keep finding myself reading about it.
With this perspective in mind, I fail to see what makes Christianity stand apart from other religions. Having had no personal experience with the divine, and having seen enough of the variety of delusions man is prone to to be on my guard (I will always be delusional, but I can at least try to avoid it as much as possible), I have nothing left but reason and experience to use in sifting through the possibilities. Prophecy I put a lot of hope in as a teenager, but the more I studied and the more education I got, the less convincing it appeared. Today I do not believe that there is any substantial evidence of prescience in scripture, just fancy poetry that’s interpretted as such in hindsight.
I’d best stop there before the Internet runs out of paper (again). I’m interested in hearing any thoughts, reactions, or critique you have to offer.
Cheers,
Siggy
Our basement remodel is done. We've got an awesome family room with bamboo flooring (bought at half price at the Habitat store - environmentally friendly!), recessed dimmable lighting (using CFL's – also environmentally friendly), and all the wires for speakers and such run through the walls! I also just ditched Comcast for Dish. I ordered a second Dish receiver just for the MythTV box.
Back home in Illinois to visit mom and dad, I went to the DMV today to replace my lost license. I went to jr. high with the girl that helped me there, Alyssa… Analysa… Mcall.. Sm… I’ve re-forgotten her name already, but it was really familiar when she said it. I wasn’t sure she recognized me until, after asking if my height and weight were the same, she added apathetically “so are you still real smart?”
Returning to evolutionary developmental biology (see my 
A close friend of mine from a conservative Christian family recently asked my opinion on whether or not it’s appropriate for her to wear tank-tops and other moderately revealing clothing around guys and/or in public. This unleashed a host of thoughts (most of which ending up in my journal) on ethics, aesthetics, patience, instant gratification, responsibility, and personal development as I try to piece together a coherent world view regarding personal conduct in a diverse and postmodern world. Below is part of what I wrote to my friend.
Several years ago while thinking about DNA as a highschool student, it hit me that the code necessarily must be abstract and high level. For code to mean anything it must be “compiled” by a system that reads more subtle meaning into it. I remarked as much to my sister who at the time said essentially “well, duh.” She missed the deeper significance: a single gene could code for, say, an entire arm or eye. The translation machinery is where the details are stored.
