The atheist response to a national crisis

I've read it many times: participation in a religious community - a church, a temple, a mosque - generally correlates with better health outcomes and longer life, with higher financial generosity, and with more stable families. And I get why that's probably true because of what I experienced growing up and what I've seen so often in communities where most residents are religious. 

Most of my church experiences weren't negative - most were, in fact, quite good: I loved the sense of community, the sense of welcome, the sense of quiet comfort and the food at potlucks. And that background in attending not just church but church-related gatherings has helped me easily navigate a variety of cultures, ceremonies and gatherings, often much better than my colleagues who don't come from a religious background.  

We are a nation with rising rates of loneliness, mental illness and alcohol and drug dependency, as well as incredible divisiveness. I'm do NOT think the answer is more religion, however. 

In addition to all the dogma and intolerance for non-religion members, religion comes with a commitment: to attend services, usually once a week, and to join in social activities, like choir practice and performance, software ball games, potluck suppers, camps and volunteering. The people that go to events and activities aren't usually running to them in anticipation because they are just so incredibly wonderful and fun - part of the reason they go is that sense of obligation to their community. As a result, over time, religious practitioners get the benefits of feeling that sense of communal belonging, and the benefits of regularly engaging with other people. That's not at all a bad thing. But is religion really the only way to get that sense of community?

As religious practice wanes, people could still keep that commitment to engaging with other people and creating community, and I think it would be worth it for both individuals, personally, and for communities collectively. How can we do that, especially in a world traumatized by a pandemic that killed millions, scarred others with life-long disabilities and created so much mistrust of each other?

I think it's still possible, but it would require us each, individually, to make a commitment. 

Are you willing to make a commitment to community activities not for a God, but in the faith that it's good for your mental health and your community? 

Are you willing to reserve at least six hours a month engaged in a formal volunteering practice - helping at a blood donation drive for the Red Cross, helping at events at your children's school, helping at a Habitat for Humanity home build or home repair, etc.? 

Are you willing to go to one community event at least every quarter of a year: to a community theater production, to a high school sports event, to a game night in a bar, to a concert, etc.?   

You could even be more ambitious and formally join something: a book club, a Rotary Club, a community sports league, the organizing committee of the local branch of a political party, etc. 

Don't expect to go one time and have an immediate wonderful time and be bursting with enthusiasm to go again. That's not how community engagement works. It's a cultivation process, a slow process. You will have some uncomfortable times, maybe even some negative experiences. But ultimately, over time, it's absolutely worth it for you personally. And imagine if a significant portion of us did this - imagine what it might do collectively for our communities and society. 

I'm already doing all of the above, in fact. It's not easy: there are times when I just do NOT want to go to something I've committed to or planned. Often, I'm dreading having to wear outside-of-my-house clothes, finding a parking place, and not being home in comfy clothes on my couch. But I know that making a commitment to do these activities and fulfilling that commitment has an effect on my mental health over time: I don't feel nearly as hopeless or lonely as I do when I don't make time for these activities. I'm not nearly as cranky or pessimistic as I am when I disengage over long periods. And I think I'm much more pleasant to be around in-person and online as a result. 

Give it a go. Have some faith... in community investment. 

No doubt?

Atheists hear this question a lot from people who believe in a "God" or "Gods":

You don't have any doubt about God? You don't consider the possibility that maybe you're wrong and there is a God?

Here's what I'm 100% sure of:

• No "God" or "Gods" have ever comforted me. If a "God" or "Gods" do exist, he or they have most certainly harmed me through his/their inaction or "divine plan." 
   
• It is a huge relief not to try to justify the actions of an asshole - the God or Gods that either ignore millions of people being tortured or causes it." That torment in my mind ended when I decided to embrace my disbelief. 
   
• It is glorious to evaluate people by their actions and the content of their character instead of trying to decide if they follow the "right" magical invisible omnipotent friend. 
   
• When I stopped trying to follow a religion, when I stopped trying to "open my heart" and "let Jesus in" and all that, I went from feeling desperate and hurt and hopeless and abandoned to feeling like I was a part of something so much bigger than any religion, in a universe with far more possibilities than any religion has ever described to me. I felt like I belonged, and felt a huge burden lifted off of my heart. 
   
• As a child, talk of the devil being after me, being after my family, was terrifying to me. It was terrorizing. It was abusive. As I listened to stories of how I would burn alive forever in the eternal fires of hell if I didn't submit to Christ - and when I lay there is a little girl crying in bed, begging Jesus to come into my heart, and he didn't, and me thinking that I was in the End Times and I was doomed, there was no magical voice comforting me, no peace that entered my heart - it was just sheer terror. The first step in embracing a universe without a God or Gods was my realizing that there is no magical demon plotting my pain and demise. That moment of realization became a moment of relief, a moment of cleansing - the solace I needed. I have no doubt about how comforting and wonderful it's been not to live in fear like that. 
   
• Atheism has brought me a more hopeful feeling for right now and for the future. It's made me feel like possibilities are endless for human potential - and for my own potential. 
   
• I have gotten far, far more comfort from watching Cosmos, reading history, experiencing art in its many forms, and learning about science than any church service or sermon has ever given me.
   
• Atheism vastly improved my mental health, whereas attempts to "believe" harmed me mentally and emotionally. 
  
• Religion or attempts at "belief" have never brought me the enjoyment and opportunities for hope and love anywhere near what atheism has. 
  

Of these realities, I have no doubt at all. 

Does your belief in God bring you joy? Or does it make you unhappy because all you see are your supposed shortcomings? Does it give you comfort and strength or does it tell you there is a demon making you unhappy and trying to tempt your family with evil and you need to pray more and study the Bible more? Does it dictate your choice in friends, your choice in books, your choice in music, your choice in what you should enjoy? And do those boundaries bring you joy or give you hope? Are scientific discoveries a challenge to your faith so much so that you feel you have to refute practices that science promotes, like taking vaccines or wearing masks to protect you from an infectious disease - which actually puts you and your family in danger?

Maybe doubt about your God wouldn't be such a bad thing. 

Also see:

• Finding hope
• Magic, Kindness and Hope
• Quotes that comfort
• The power & the glory of hope, WITHOUT a God
• Satanic Suffering
• "Would Satan tempt me through the kindness of macaroni and cheese?"
• The Atheist Response to Tragedy
• Seeking comfort with Mr. Rogers
• Why I love being an atheist

Meaningful ways to fill your hours during a pandemic

How are you? I hope someone in your life is asking you that, sincerely. If not - tell me. 

Things are rough for so many people. People haven't paid rent in months because they don't have work. Small businesses are going out of business. Nonprofit art groups are folding. So many, many are struggling. 

Little Miss Privilege here has a home and someone paying her way, since she's under-employed. 

I wish I could help you financially. I can help you if you are feeling useless and bored:

I hope you have made it a point to amplify science-based info, and if you haven't, I hope you will do so. Your voice online is important! You have a role to play right now: countering misinformation online. 

I regularly repost things from my county's health department. I comment positively on those posts as well, to counter all of the negative comments they get - and am pleased that my comments get far more likes than the conspiracy theorists trying to convince people that masks are oppressive and un-American. I also retweet @nursekelsey a lot: she's a trauma ICU nurse and provides regularly updates both about her work experences with COVID-19 patients and how she handles her home life - it's inspirational and the reality check I need. 

I also have been looking up services in my local community that help people with rent, with food or with mental health services, and sharing them on social media. Has it helped anyone? I don't know. But I know that info is needed - and I notice it gets reshared every time I do it. 

I also spend my days writing postcards and emails to elected officials, telling them to GIVE PEOPLE MONEY. And amplifying information about how to volunteer with food banks and Meals on Wheels, nonprofits that are desperate for volunteers. And trying not to get the 'Rona myself. 

I hope you got to see Jupiter and Saturn in one telescope shot, something we've never been able to do before and, if you are my age, won't be able to do again in our lifetime. If you didn't, look around for some other upcoming thing-to-see-in-the-skies. I live in a town where street lights abound and, yet, I still get some pretty good views of astronomical events, if it's not raining. Just throw something down on the ground, lay down and look up at the night sky for a while. Even just 30 minutes. It's amazing what you'll see. 

If you want to take a break from doom scrolling, I highly recommend transcribing some historical documents so you make them more searchable and accessible to everyone, particularly researchers. Some examples of efforts you can join: 

• Climate Cardinals. An international nonprofit working to translate climate change research and information, making the climate movement more accessible to those who don’t speak English. Here's the description of what volunteers do. 
   
• Colored Conventions, hosted at the University of Delaware. From 1830 until the 1890s, already free and once enslaved Black Americans came together in state and national political meetings in the USA called "Colored Conventions." Before the Civil War, they strategized about how to achieve educational, labor and legal justice at a moment when Black rights were constricting nationally and locally. After the Civil War, their numbers swelled as they continued to mobilize to ensure that Black citizenship rights and safety, Black labor rights and land, Black education and institutions would be protected under the law. Online volunteers transcribe newspaper accounts of these meetings,  to allow this historical records to be more easily accessible and searchable for students and scholars across disciplines and for community researchers interested in the history of activist church, civil rights, educational and entrepreneurial engagement. 
   
• DIY History is an online volunteering project from the University of Iowa’s Digital Library. Online volunteers transcribe digitized artifacts related to Iowa history so that they become searchable, allowing researchers to quickly seek out specific information, and general users to browse and enjoy the materials more easily. Scanned documents that need to be transcribed and tagged include diaries, letters and newspaper articles from war time and manuscripts related to early Iowa lives, social justice, fanzines, recipes and cookbooks. 
   
• FamilySearch. Transcribe scanned family records (census records, property deeds, marriage records, etc.). Tags: history, historical. 
   
• Old Weather project: online volunteers transcribe hand-written weather observations made by Royal Navy ships around the time of World War I; using old weather observations can help predict our climate's future. Tags: history, historical, climate, science. 
   
• Smithsonian Digital Volunteer program. The Smithsonian seeks to engage the public in making its collections more accessible. "We're working hand-in-hand with digital volunteers to transcribe historic documents and collection records to facilitate research and excite the learning in everyone." Transcription turns handwritten and typed documents into searchable and machine-readable resources, creating an incredibly valuable asset for art, history, literary and scientific researchers across the globe. From high school to graduate studies, transcription allows students to engage with primary source materials – a key part of the learning experience. Transcription preserves these historic documents for future generations. 
   
• The Freedom on the Move (FOTM) public database project at Cornell University is a major digital database effort to make the search of North American fugitive slave advertisements in newspapers from regional, state, and other collections from the 1700s and 1800s easy to search and the data easy to evaluate. Online volunteers add data tags to the screened entries and transcribe the ads. Here is an excellent article on about the database, from which Dr. Mitchell's quote is taken. 
   
• Indiana World War I Service Record Cards is a project by the Indiana Archives that engages online volunteers in transcribing service record cards that detail the military service of Indiana men and women who served in the armed forces at the time of World War I. It also goes by the name of Indiana Archives and Records Administration Virtual Volunteer Program. 
   
• Library of Congress By the People (crowd.loc.gov). Launched in the autumn of 2018 at the LOC's very first transcribe-a-thon and on the 155th anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. Online volunteers can transcribe, review and tag digitized images of manuscripts and typed materials from the Library’s collections. These transcriptions improve search, readability and access to handwritten and typed documents for those who are not fully sighted or cannot read the handwriting of the original documents. The site also offers a free guide (PDF) on How to host a transcribe-a-thon (PDF). Note: I wrote the LOC folks on Twitter about all you students wanting letters to confirm you are doing this service. They responded: That's awesome! We have a few spots on our "About" page explaining how to obtain service documentation. e-mailing us at crowd@loc.gov is the best way to get specifics. We provide verification for students all the time! 
   
• New York Public Library's collection of historic restaurant menus. If menus have been transcribed by other volunteers, then online volunteers can review transcriptions for errors, or can geotag the location of restaurants on a global map. 
   
• 1947 Partition Archive is "a grassroots, non-political, 100% volunteer run effort to document and preserve eye witness accounts from the partition of British India into present day India, Pakistan and Bangladesh in 1947." Online volunteers can help with transcription of interviews (many interviews are in English), translation of interviews and other materials from/into Hindi, Punjabi, Bengali, Urdu, Sindhi, and English, video editing, online outreach or legal advice. Tags: history, historic. 
   
• New York Public Library building inspector transcriptions. Online volunteers are helping to annotate digitized insurance atlases that map the history of the city's buildings and streets. Online volunteers can help to draw and check borders of property lines and buildings, enter addresses written on the maps, classify colors, and find place names. "Imagine if maps had a magic switch that let you explore the geography of the past. The Library wants to do this for New York City, turning historical atlases into time machines. To do it we need to harvest all the fantastic detail from the original maps: building footprints, addresses, place names, construction materials etc. — clues that will help unlock a million stories. With this information organized and searchable, you can ask new kinds of questions about history. Peel back the layers of the city and replay its growth. 'Check in' to vanished establishments and meet their ghostly proprietors. Or discover related historical documents (newspapers, photographs, business directories…) linked by place and time." Tags: history, historic. 
   
• Royal British Columbia Museum Transcribe project (Canada). Online volunteers transcribe various collections from the museum, including diaries, government papers, and more. "The transcriptions you create will become searchable data, facilitating learning and research around the world. Whether you choose to transcribe one page, one hundred pages, or just browse our collections, you’re helping us share the stories that matter."  

If you are looking for something inspiring: watch Cosmos. If you have never seen the Cosmos reboot, you should. The second season is showing on Fox now, but if you've missed it, look online for the DVDs of the first season for sale. There are some affordable used ones out there, if money is an issue. I've cried watching almost every episode - it just gives me a feeling of hope and a feeling of being a part of EVERYTHING, in a good way. I hope you find it comforting as well. 

Take care of yourself. You can do this. All the best in 2021. 

Kindness and community make sense

Atheists have their genesis in different places: some atheists are brought up in a family that is entirely secular, with no religious belief at all, and that lack of belief in a magical invisible friend, or group of friends, sticks for life. Others are brought up within a religious family, either marginally or deeply religious, and either reject that religious belief at some point or it just never takes hold.

Either way, whatever their origins, many atheists contemplate and create - and continually re-visit - a moral structure through which they can ponder life’s ethical and philosophical questions and human behavior. It's not true of all atheists, but many of us are on a continual journey of questions and exploration and considerations.

As I've said in many blogs, one of the things that lead me away from the religion I was brought up in, Christianity, was the lack of emphasis on good works being fundamental to the practice of Christianity, and the lack of emphasis on being happy in this life here on Earth.

For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves:

it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast.

Ephesians 2:8-9

According to the Bible, to be close to God - which is the only thing we should be focused on - and to gain happiness after death - as gaining in this life is not important - is possible only through faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, rather than by human effort or good works. Baptism, church membership or church attendance, sacraments, or even being kind - I was taught, as a Baptist, that none of these were fundamentally important - they are nice, but not at all, ultimately, necessary. And your soul, your salvation, is more important than feeding the hungry, helping the sick, or being a positive force in your community.

What always got downplayed in the church sermons and Sunday school and Vacation Bible School classes I attended was

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. 

Matthew 22:37-39

It just never felt right to me to downplay the importance of kindness to others as a fundamental part of a righteous life. By contrast, empathy and compassion has always felt right to me. The story that stood out to me most in the Bible as a child and teen, that always resonated with me, was the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). 

And make no mistake: while compassion and kindness and justice all feel so right to me as moral guides, they are not always easy. In fact, most of the time, they don't feel easy. I don't always benefit when I show empathy and compassion or when I engage in acts that I believe are a part of pursuing a just society. In fact, I've been burned quite a few times as a result of being kind or considerate or pursuing justice, by putting myself out there to help someone or a cause, and as I grow older, I hesitate more and more before I decide my help is needed. Yet, I keep doing it, because I just cannot get away from an overwhelming compulsion to do so.

As I said in an earlier blog, I believe morality comes from our human capacity for empathy and from reality. My morality is rooted in a sense of compassion that most humans are born with (the exception being sociopaths). It's also rooted in my logic: kindness makes sense. Justice makes sense. Equity makes sense. The benefits of kindness, justice and equity, in the long run, are worth the work. I get a personal benefit from a healthy community that I contribute to which, in a way, makes thinking communally a selfish interest. 

And all this is my very long-winded way of saying: wear a fucking mask. 😷

And #BlackLivesMatter.

Also see:

God hates your feelings. And your reason.

Atheist Morality.

Happy 2020

When I started this blog, I hoped to be able to write just 52 blogs - one for every week. I thought if I ever reached that milestone, I'd just go back and read a blog a week for the rest of my life - my own weekly sermons.

Well, I now have 157 blogs, more than enough to read one every week for THREE YEARS.

If you have ever been a churchgoer, you know just how often preachers recycle sermons. Some just have one year's worth they trot out year-after-year. And here I am with three year's worth of my own atheist sermons!

The church across the street for me went up for sale last year, and I joked that I was going to buy it and open a Temple of Ethics, Reason & Humanity. Sadly, I didn't have the $1 million to buy the church, and an evangelical group that uses drums in their services bought it. Huge bummer, I know. I didn't have the money - but I had the material!

What to say as I start 2020? I start the year with being happy to not believe in the supernatural, fulfilled and content to live in a universe so much bigger and full of so many more possibilities than anything any religion teaches. I start the year knowing that I have very likely crossed the halfway point in my life, and wanting to make the most out of my very good health and stable economic situation. I start the year hoping I can find the strength to be kind when I don't feel like being kind, to be helpful to others when I really don't feel like being helpful, to work hard when I really don't feel like working hard, because doing those things are necessary to getting through this thing we call life.

Reflect on your year

How's your year been?

What's given you joy this year?

What's brought you down this year?

Those are three questions I think are good to ask when the year ends - of people you care about and of yourself.

When I ask the question about what gave me joy in a year, I go through my Google calendar, my journal, my blogs and my social media posts, and I make a list - I write it out. And it always turns out that good things happened that I had forgotten: some movie I saw that I found delightful. Some outing I had with someone I hadn't seen in a long while. Some hike. Some one-day motorcycle ride. I find myself thinking over and over again, "Oh yeah, that happened..." I always feel better after I do this, even if the year has been a particularly bad one.

The last question is easier to answer - no need to go looking for what brought me down, because I haven't forgotten most of it. Sometimes I list that too, sometimes not. Sometimes, I have found a list like that in a journal, read through the things, and none of them matter anymore, at all,and that is a comfort - to see that something so dire five years ago doesn't matter now. Or seeing something bad and being reminded that I survived it, that I got through it, even if it left a scar.

I know that our ideas about the start of a year are artificial, entirely man-made: yes, a year is the time the Earth goes around the Sun, that's real, that's not made up, but our starting point is artificially chosen - there's no official start and end time for a year, from a scientific perspective. Humanity could have chosen the year to start at the height of summer's heat in the Northern Hemisphere. It didn't, for logical reasons: new things start at birth, and as we see things being born and reborn all around us in nature as Winter turns to Spring, humanity's choice of when a year stops or starts makes sense.

I like metaphors. I think I especially like them now, as an atheist, far more than in my younger days because, when I was trying to be a Christian in those younger days, the religion was taught to me literally, without many metaphors, and when I realized this, I also realized just how much richer stories are when we see deeper meanings in them, when we look for wisdom, not just rules. I remember as a youth being taught the story of the loaves and fishes, a story mentioned in all four Gospels, as merely a miracle by God on Earth; I was 25 when I heard someone tell the story as an encouragement to share, because if we pool our resources, we have all we need to take care of everyone - and more - and that the acts of young people do matter, can make a difference, are needed. De-emphasizing the divine, the superpower and, instead, looking at the metaphors, the implied lessons, made the story so much more, and I felt much more connected to the storytellers who made up the story, because I think it's the metaphor that was important to them more than the divine.

So I like adhering to the common human practice of seeing the year coming to an end in winter, of thinking of life metaphorically and this marking the end of a chapter, and as it dies out, new things are born, plants are renewed, and maybe I can revitalize in some ways. 

Happy Reflecting. Happy New Year.

calendars & holy days

Christians follow a liturgical calendar based on the supposed life of Jesus Christ, celebrating events like the "Immaculate Conception" of Mary, the divine congratulations to Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus, the birth of Jesus, the Baptism of Jesus, the birth of Jesus (Christmas), etc.

The Hebrew or Jewish calendar compiles the dates for Jewish holidays, for the appropriate public reading of Torah portions and for the undertaking various ceremonies, like Purim, Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, etc.

The Islamic calendar is a lunar calendar compiles the dates for Islamic holidays and associated rituals, like the Islamic New Year, the martyrdom of Husayn ibn Ali, the grandson of Muhammad, and his followers, the birth of the Prophet, the start of Ramadan, the end of Ramadan, the start of Hajj, etc.

Hindus, Buddhists, B'hais, Sikhs and various other religions all have calendars they follow that tell them what ceremony or ritual they need to do when. Some follow a solar calendar and some follow a lunar calendar and some follow a mix of the two.

Do atheists follow a ceremonial calendar? Some do. Many atheists buy a tree for Christmas, both because it's a tradition they grew up with and because the roots of that ritual aren't Christian but, in fact, pagan. Some atheists fast during Ramadan, in solidarity with their family and their community.

Maybe we should also celebrate the days of the week, to demonstrate just how many religions we have abandoned and to remake them into days where we explore scientific wonders and celebrate, and question, humanity:

• For Monday, we could celebrate the Moon, since the day is named for the Moon. We could talk about how the moon controls the tides, what happens during lunar eclipse, why there are phases of the moon, and on and on. 
• Tuesday is derived from Old English Tiwesdæg and Middle English Tewesday, meaning "Tīw's Day", the day of Tiw or Týr, the god of single combat, and law and justice in Norse mythology. Tiw is equated with Mars, hence the names for this day in other languages: Martes in Spanish, Mardi in French, etc. So, on Tuesday, we talk about the horrors of war and what justice really means and how to pursue it, with reason and ethics. 
• Wednesday is derived from Old English and Middle English words that mean "day of Woden", reflecting a pre-Christian religion practiced by the Anglo-Saxon tribes of the region. In other languages, miércoles in Spanish or mercredi in French or mercoledì in Italian, the day's name is for Mercury, God of War. That presents a problem, since we spent Tuesday talking about war. So on Wednesday, let's talk about peace. 
• For Thursday, of course, we would celebrate Thor! And as a big fan of Marvel movies, I'm totally down with doing that! We'll all dress like Thor or any member of the Marvel universe. 
• For Friday, we would celebrate the "day of Frige", which comes from the Old English Frīġedæġ, or Frīatag in Old High German, or Freitag in Modern German, and vrijdag in Dutch - the result of combining the Old English goddess Frigg with the Roman goddess Venus. Since Venus was the goddess of love, Friday is going to be all about love. And, really, isn't it already?   
• For Saturday, we would celebrate "Saturn's Day." I say we talk about why Saturn is the most beautiful planet in the solar system. 
• And for Sunday, of course we could celebrate the Sun. We would talk about the Sun in cultural representations, sunspots, how suns are formed, what the gravitational pull of the Sun really means, and on and on. 

When all is said and done, let's keep the Thor in Thursday, okay?

Is being an atheist a privilege?

I have many friends who are Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Bahais and Hindus. I don't try to convert them away from their religions. I wish them happiness on the holidays they celebrate, and I "like" any social media post they make that calls for social justice and criticizes their leaders for not speaking out about human rights, criminal behavior regarding children, etc. But I steer clear of commenting on their posts celebrating how great it is to be whatever religion they are, or how great their God/s is/are. It can be awkward when they get sick and ask for prayers - I can't offer that, and I feel they don't want what I can offer - or when they praise their God instead of the amazing medical care they have received and the scientists who produced the medicine that has made them better. It's most awkward when they post a testimonial of their love of their religions, and a criticism of those that don't believe as they do. Mostly, I ignore those posts.

Recently, a friend posted to a social media platform saying that to be an atheist is to be privileged and that atheists are arrogant and insensitive to ignore/dismiss the comfort and hope the Christian faith gives black Americans especially. I would love to quote the actual, entire post, but hours later, when I went to look for it, it was gone. I guess he realized he was a jerk thing to say and he deleted it. Or he feared what I would say...

But I haven't forgotten.

I most certainly believe being able to publicly declare one's atheism without fear of being fired, ostracized from family, socially excluded or murdered is a privilege. I am reminded of this as I look at the pixelated photos of the members of the Council of Ex-Muslims of Sri Lanka - they meet in secret and share photos on social media where their faces have been altered beyond recognition. Same for the Humanist Society Pakistan in celebrating World Humanist Day on 21 June. They want to let other atheists in their countries know that they are not alone, and maybe let religious people know that atheists are not monsters, but they must do so in very careful ways, to protect their own safety, jobs and families.

Being able to be open about my atheism with friends and neighbors is a privilege I enjoy, but even my privilege is limited: note that I don't use my real name here on this blog, for fear of what it will do to my professional career (though it's not hard at all to figure out who I am).

But is being an atheist only for the privileged? No.

The first thing that came to mind when I read my friend's diatribe was this quote:

"I'm an atheist, and Christianity appears to me to be the most absurd imposture of all the religions, and I'm puzzled that so many people can't see through a religion that encourages irresponsibility and bigotry. As my ancestors are free from slavery, I am free from the slavery of religion." It's from Butterfly Mcqueen, the actress, honored with the 1989 Freethought Heroine Award by the Freedom From Religion Foundation. I've written about her before.

Black American atheists have always been with us, and their words are some of the most important to me, personally, as an atheist. Probably the earliest evidence of atheism and agnosticism among black Americans comes from 19th-century slave narratives - yes, indeed, there were atheists among enslaved people. These are cited by Christopher Cameron, associate professor of history at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte, and the founder and president of the African American Intellectual History Society. He notes that the growth in Black American atheism coincided with the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and ’30s. Atheism and agnosticism have flourished more recently, and as Cameron puts it, "new black atheists are not content to personally reject religion but instead have a goal of spreading freethought to the broader black community. For example, the author Sikivu Hutchinson and the founder of Black Nonbelievers, Mandisa Thomas, argue that religion hurts the black community by promoting sexism, patriarchy and homophobia... These politics demand that black women must be chaste, temperate, industrious and socially conservative. Above all, they must be religious. They must always portray the race in the best light." Cameron also notes that feminism is an essential part of the new black atheists’ humanism, unlike most white atheist "leaders," at least the ones that regularly get cited, and I appreciate that viewpoint in particular. In fact, so much of the leadership I've found among Black American atheists are women, and I find myself following far more of them on social media than the usually cited white atheists "leaders" (all male).

I have been proud to have had the confidence of so many people, of a variety of ethnicities, who want to tell me that, indeed, they are atheists, they do not believe in the religion of their family, and they wish they could be open about it. They are happy to be freed from the mental and emotional limitations of religion, happy to be a part of a universe so much bigger and so much more full of possibilities than any religion has ever described, happy to no longer believe they are being punished or being given some kind of grand lesson as they or those they love suffer, and hopeful for their future as a full, rational human being. I will continue to value their insights and support them, and hope that, some day, they will feel safe enough to declare their belief in reason and the COMFORT they have received by rejecting all ideas of the supernatural, including God.

As the black atheist Sincere Kirabo says of Black Lives Matter: ‘There’s a social activist movement underway continuing the unfinished business of the Civil Rights movement era. Want to make a difference? What we need is grit and involvement in the struggle, not a tribe satisfied with the empty promises of scriptural white noise. Please, for the sake and love of our own futures: abandon your fabled white messiah. Wake up. We are our own salvation.’" Amen. 

Why don't I blog more often?

I launched this blog in the Fall of 2010. I've published 153 blogs in that time, including this one that you are reading now. That's more than one a month, on average, though I know I haven't actually blogged once a month.

Faith-based bloggers often produce a new blog once a week. Why don't I?

I thought about making that a goal. But, honestly, to what end? A faith-based blogger is writing to try to win new converts and/or keep the converts they have among their readers. I'm not trying to convince anyone to abandon their religion. Rather, I'm trying to give inspiration and comfort to those who are atheists and are feeling uncomfortable within their family or community, or to those who are realizing they don't have the faith that's necessary for the religion they have been in, perhaps from birth, and are wondering what life as an atheist will be like. I want this blog to help atheists feel good about their identity, particularly if they are in an unsupportive, even dangerous, environment.

I also think many atheists are discouraged from the desire for inspiration and curiosity and fellowship, as though the state of bliss that can come from human pursuits is somehow wrong to desire and seek. Is it because of the phrasing we use to talk about this - food for the soul - as most of us don't believe in a soul? I don't know. But I do know I love to be inspired, and I want to help other atheists feed this desire, celebrate it, and pursue it. For those who also desire that inspiration, I write this blog.

I take my muse tag very seriously: I'm here to inspire, regarding history, science, nature, the written word, dancing, poetry, humanity, philosophy, life in general... yes, muse comes from Greek and Roman mythology, from religions abandoned long ago. I love my ironic moniker!

I blog when I have something to say, and I don't always have something to day, not once a week, and sometimes, not even once a month. Other times, I have a LOT to say. Very often, I write two or three blogs at once sitting, and then space them out to be published weeks apart. 

I don't know how long I'll keep producing new blogs, but if you are new to this blog, I strongly encourage you start reading my blogs from when I started in November 2010. By the time you have read them all, I'll probably have a new one waiting for you. 

There are 52 weeks in the year. Were I a Christian preacher, that would require I write 52 sermons a year, and then start recycling them annually. If you have attended one church regularly, as I did in my youth, you know that there are many ministers out there that have just 52 sermons and they push the repeat button at the start of each year, as well as recycling special occasion sermons for weddings, funerals and other ceremonies. There's nothing quite like hearing a preacher give a sermon that you think is so personal and appropriate at a family members funeral, being so moved at it, and then hearing that exact same sermon months later at someone else's funeral... 

I've hit 52 original blogs long ago. Twice that is 104. Three times that is 156. Just three more blogs and I'll have enough to present a new blog post as my sermon to my imaginary atheist congregation for three years, without repeating. Maybe I should make my goal 365 blog posts - and produce a book, ala the daily devotionals some of my Christian family members dutifully read every day over breakfast.

Hope you are having a good 2019 and, if you aren't, I hope you have the resources and will to make it better. 

I have hope but not faith

When does the new year start? The Gregorian calendar says it just started and we're on day three of it. People that observe the Chinese lunar calendar haven't started their new year yet, nor have those that observe the Persian calendar. And then there is the Jewish calendar, which says the new year started back in September. And on and on...

I celebrate both the Gregorian calendar start of the year and the Winter Solstice, to both celebrate what's happened in the last 365 (or so) days, reflect on what's happened, think about the Earth spinning and moving around the Sun and anticipate what's coming, personally, professionally, historically and scientifically.

Most of my friends and associates acknowledge the Gregorian start of the new year, and many - more than most years - have said on social media that, this year, they are especially focused on hope. They are talking about how that's their word for the year. And there is something that bothers me about it: the way they are talking about it, I'm not sure they know what the word really means.

When they say I have hope for humanity what they mean is I believe humanity has an innate instinct, as a whole, to be kind, compassionate and less destructive and, eventually, this innate instinct will prevail, not because of any facts, but just because it's what I believe - it's my faith. The word hope is being used by a lot of people when they actually mean faith. They are using hope to mean complete confidence or trust in something, a strong belief in something, despite facts to the contrary.

I don't have faith in humanity. None. Zilch. But I do have hope. Hope is not faith. Hope is not blind trust. Hope is not confidence. Hope is a desire. Hope is a strong feeling of wanting something or wishing for something. Hope means that you want things to turn out well, but it does NOT mean you just assume they will, without any work or intervention. So, in using the correct definition of the word, yes, I have hope for humanity, but I don't have faith in humanity, don't have blind trust in humanity, and my confidence in humanity frequently waivers.

I hope for a better quality of life for the poorest and most oppressed of humanity, but I don't have faith or blind trust that it will just happen, naturally, without a tremendous amount of persistent work. I have hope for a world where natural spaces and the flora and fauna within are better protected, but I don't have faith or blind trust that it's just somehow going to happen because humans are to be trusted, without a great deal of pressure, to make it happen. I have hope for the future, but I don't have faith or blind trust that it's all just somehow going to work out for everyone.

When you lose hope, when you lose the desire for something to be better, that's when you welcome depression into your life. While I am a skeptic, I am not a cynic - at least, I try not to be. It's been tough since November 2016 not to be a cynic. But I still have hope. When I lose that, then you can start worrying about me.

What fuels my hope? It's simple: I want to live in a world where everyone has access to a safe place to live and prosper, where they can pursue any academic or trade job-based education they want, and where they can access all the quality healthcare they need. Why do I desire - hope - for all that? Because the world would be a better place to live, for me, personally, and for everyone. Living in a world where all that isn't happening creates misery and suffering - and I don't like misery nor suffering, not for myself and not for anyone else.

In 2019, I wish you to have a feeling of hope for the things you cherish and care about. And I hope you are also inspired to feed that hope with actions.

Magic, Kindness and Hope

Sometimes, when people find out I'm an atheist and that I do not believe in the supernatural, they will smugly say,

Well, I wouldn't want to live in a world without magic!

Sometimes, I don't respond. But sometimes, I just can't help myself, and I ask, "What do you mean by magic?"

And here's how the conversation goes:

Them: A world without things that are wonderous!

Me: I still live in a world where are wonderous. 

Them: A world where not everything can be explained!

Me: I still live in a world where not everything can be explained.

Them: A world where I see something and I feel awe, where I feel reverence!

Me: I still live in a world where I feel awe and reverence. 

I live in a world where there is no magic, where there is nothing outside physical laws, but where plenty around me feels magical. Knowing what creates a rainbow, or the Grand Canyon, or a "shooting star" doesn't make it any less than magical and wonderous for me.

It's similar when someone finds out I'm an atheist and smugly says,

Well, I wouldn't want to live in a world without hope!

I don't live in a world without hope. It's when I was trying to believe in God in my younger days that I was so hopeless - because I was told that the crap I was experiencing was "God's will." Now, I live in a UNIVERSE that's so much bigger, with so many, many more possibilities, than the world as described to me via Christianity.

I love get my hope renewed when I see someone be kind to someone else, not because they have to, not because they fear that some magical invisible man is in the sky and he will punish them if they aren't kind, but rather because that person feels a desire to help his or her fellow human, a desire that is inherent in humanity as a whole, regardless of religion or lack thereof. The March for Women in January 2017, the March for Science later that year, the outpouring of support for immigrants when Donald Trump tried to launch his first Muslim travel ban, the response of people wanting to volunteer after a disaster, someone helping a stranger on the bus, at the grocery store, on the street - it all gives me hope.

Looking at the periodical table fills me with awe - and I can't explain chemistry. I sometimes cry watching Nature or Nova because the world, the universe, is amazing! And there is so much that is unexplained. You see God in the unexplained; I see possibilities for ENDLESS scientific discovery.

And without God, hope is boundless, it is endless. All things are possible.

God hates your feelings. And your reason.

I grew up in churches where obedience to God was emphasized, but compassion and charity was not. What was most important, the preachers and Sunday school teachers said, was doing what God said, as directed through the Bible, and that had little to do with being kind to people. After all, they would tell me, "Do unto others as you would have done unto you" doesn't mean be kind - it means to be Biblical. In other words, you should want people to tell you that you are going to hell unless you repent - it's what's BEST for you!

That means that the story of the fishes and loaves wasn't about pooling our resources so that we can care for each other; it was about Jesus being divine, as shown through his performance of a miracle. The story of the good Samaritan was just a skit for Vacation Bible School - I'm not sure I ever heard it talked about from the pulpit. Every sermon I remember was about just one thing: accept Christ as your savior, and you get everlasting life. Accepting Jesus was more important than any behavior. or feeling. The churches I attended as a child held no canned food drives, built no homes for the homeless, collected no money for people without healthcare insurance. Charity was never discussed in my family home, beyond helping family members that were ill. What was oh-so-much-more important was prayer and having the capacity to witness for Jesus to neighbors and co-workers and friends.

I'm catching up on reading through a stack of New Yorker magazines, and am just now reading about how Megan Phelps-Roper turned against her church - the Westboro Baptist Church. The article notes:

Church members disdained human feelings as something that people worshipped instead of the Bible. They even had a sign: “GOD HATES YOUR FEELINGS.” They disregarded people’s feelings in order to break their idols.

It was like something clicked in my head - I remember that message from my youth, though it was said in more quiet, firm tones, not screaming, and not quite so explicitly: we are sinful, and feelings are a product of that sinful nature - only obedience can save us. If we're comfortable and happy, then we're not true Christians!

I hear my Christian friends lament that the Westboro Baptist Church aren't really Christians, because members have such hateful messages and seek to make people feel awful at funerals for loved ones, but the reality is that, based on a literalist view of the English-language Bible (which is, of course, the language Jesus spoke), they have a doctrinal basis for their hate.

If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters--yes, even their own life--such a person cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:26

Anyone who loves his father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me;
Matthew 10:37

Whoever loves his life will lose it, but whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
Revelation 12:11

In their view, being a Christian doesn't make you happy, doesn't give you peace, doesn't make you feel better - if those things happen, you are actually worshipping an idol - your heart - not following the Bible. Being a Christian should make you uncomfortable or happy or peaceful. If you aren't hated for being a Christian, you aren't really a Christian!

You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.
Matthew 10:22

An unjust man is abominable to the righteous, And he who is upright in the way is abominable to the wicked.
Proverbs 29:27

Hear the word of the LORD, you who tremble at His word: "Your brothers who hate you, who exclude you for My name's sake, Have said, 'Let the LORD be glorified, that we may see your joy.' But they will be put to shame.
Isaiah 66:5

Then will they hand you over to be persecuted and killed, and you will be hated by all nations on account of My name.
Matthew 24:9

If you were of the world, it would love you as its own. Instead, the world hates you, because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world.
John 15:19

And you will be hated by everyone because of My name.
Luke 21:17

By your patient endurance, you will gain your souls.
Luke 21:19

And that's just some of the Biblical fuel that makes the members of the Westboro Baptist Church do what they do. Are they not doing exactly what the Bible tells them?

Indeed, it was my feelings of compassion and sympathy and wonder, and my reason, that turned me away from Christianity and all other religions. It was reading the Bible, and many of the verses I've just quoted, that made me decide to delve deeper into the origins of the Bible, to read, read, and read some more, and ultimately, all that knowledge helped me to embrace my atheism instead of trying desperately to cure it. And I've been so much happier as a result, so much more whole, so much more peaceful, so much more connected to the world and my fellow humans - which, of course, goes against what the Bible teaches. My morality comes from balancing my feelings and my reason, from believing that all people have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, because that makes sense, that benefits everyone, that makes the entire world a better place to live for everyone - including me. I don't rob or kill people, or steal, not because of the state's laws, and not because of the Bible, but because I know it will hurt people, and I don't like hurting people. By contrast, helping others feels good, sometimes in a selfish way, sometimes in a healing way for myself - I am healed through kindness to others. Admittedly, there are a few atheists that are nihilists, and therefore, rejecting God means rejecting morality, but most atheists are moral atheists, as university philosophy professor Louise M. Antony notes: "we find moral value to be immanent in the natural world, arising from the vulnerabilities of sentient beings and from the capacities of rational beings to recognize and to respond to those vulnerabilities and capacities in others." We moral atheists are therefore puzzled by Christians and other people of faith who say morality comes from God. As Antony asks, "To say that morality depends on the existence of God is to say that none of these specific moral judgments is true unless God exists. That seems to me to be a remarkable claim. If God turned out not to exist — then slavery would be O.K.? There’d be nothing wrong with torture? The pain of another human being would mean nothing?" It's no wonder that atheists are motivated more by compassion that people of faith.

It's not easy to live life without dogma. My morality and values are challenged, and I must do a lot of thinking, a lot of exploring, to come to terms with these challenges. My feelings are sometimes in conflict with my reasoning, with logic, and I can't just read some scripture and get an absolute answer - I have to research and consider what I'm learning. I often feel like a lawyer looking for past judicial rulings to make a case. If you think that sounds so much harder than following a religion, consider this from psychologist Dr. Darrel Ray: "If these teachings were simple and clear, then there would not be 38,000 different denominations and branches of Christianity all saying different things."

My morality tells me that the members of the Westboro Baptist Church are engaged in abhorrent behaviors. My morality tells me that these people are despicable. But Christians, the scripture you say you believe in agrees with their actions.

Contradictions lead to happiness

A 6th generation Mormon, Jeremy Runnells had expectations and plans of living in the Church of Latter Day Saints for the rest of his life. However, in February 2012, Jeremy experienced a crisis of faith. In the spring of 2013, Jeremy was approached and asked by a Mormon Church Educational System Director to share his concerns and questions about the LDS Church's origins, history, and current practices. In response, Jeremy wrote what later became publicly known as Letter to a CES Director, and very quickly went viral on the internet. The CES Director responded that he read the "very well written" letter and that he would provide Jeremy with a response. No response ever came.

You can download the letter from this web site (click on "download the PDF" when you get there - it's a free download).

I found this letter - and the silence from the Mormon church - so hauntingly familiar. I had very similar, specific questions when I was in my teens and was realizing I just wasn't really believing what I had been taught all of my life by Christian churches, that I'd never believed it. The number of Bible contradictions - such as the examples listed here and here - I was realizing for myself were mounting. The cruelty and violence, the misogyny against women were disturbing me in particular, and no one had answers to my many questions and observations - they just kept telling me to "accept" and that I would have answers "some day." I was made to feel bad for my many questions and statements that I felt nothing people assured me I would feel if I said things like, "Christ, I accept you as my savior. Live in my heart." I might as well have said abracadabra over and over.

When I was trying to be a Christian, deep joy was always out of reach. Happiness was oh-so-fleeting. I was afraid of my own emotions, because I was being told I shouldn't be upset no matter what horrors in life I might encounter, no matter what happened in my life or anywhere in the world, because God had a plan, and to be upset was to doubt that plan - in other words, children being raped, people being slaughtered, villages and cities being destroyed by natural disasters, people dying slowly from the most horrible diseases you can imagine, and all other suffering was a good thing, a divine thing, and I would just have to hope and trust there was a reason for it all. God Makes No Mistakes and God is Good All the Time. And I was supposed to seek out other Christians as friends, specifically, and avoid non-believers. In fact, many people said I was to seek out only certain Christians - no Catholics, no Mormons, maybe not anyone that sprinkles instead of dunks...

When I quit trying to believe, when I embraced that life-long doubt in a magical invisible all-powerful friend who allowed, or caused, misery, life very slowly started to get better. No one was allowing tsunamis, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes and other natural disasters to kill millions of people - those things happened, without any meaning behind them other than weather patterns and geological realities, and there were all sorts of things we, humans, could do to mitigate the damage. And there were all sorts of things we can do to reduce horrors visited upon humans by other humans. And God hadn't abandoned or ignored me as I prayed every day, desperately, for an end to the abuse in my family - there is no God, and I needed to find help to get out of that situation and live a very different life than I'd grown up in.

And I got to be kind to everyone, no matter their beliefs. I got to pick friends and associates based on the character they showed - the kindness, the understanding, the care - not their proclaimed religion. I get to embrace humankind, the brotherhood of man, as a species, as a family.

And I got to hope, in a way I never could before, because I knew there was no omnipotent sentient entity with some master plan causing everything in the world, helpful, glorious or harmful - instead, the world was full of endless possibilities, some of which I could control, some of which I could influence, and all of which were real.

Hallelujah!

Why I love being an atheist

Things you think are in the Bible, but aren't, & what early Christian practice was really like

I'm very fond of Cracked.com. I know - it's a total clickbait site, and it can be quite dickish. But often, the writers really nail an insight or story in a no-nonsense, fact-based way.

Two pieces on the site are particularly awesome to me. One is called "5 Stories Everyone Assumes Are in Bible but Arent." I already knew that these five stories aren't in the Bible, but Cracked does such a good job of breaking it down simply and directly. In summary:

#5. Sodom And Gomorrah Getting Destroyed For Homosexuality (they weren’t, at least not according to scripture)
#4. The Seven Deadly Sins
#3. Purgatory
#2. The Prostitute Mary Magdalene
#1. Satan, The Lone Enemy Of God

It's so much fun correcting a Christian I'm arguing with on these points. "Show me in the Bible where it says that." And they begin to scramble... hilarious. I do the same thing with Muslim friends that say the Koran says dogs are filthy. In fact, it doesn't say that - Sura 18 is a story about a dog that honors canines for their protection and loyalty, and recognizes them as members of the family.

Another Cracked article I like very much: "5 Secret Things You Won't Believe About Early Christianity." And it's true: most of the Christians I know refuse to believe this about early Christian practices, those that took place in the first 300 years after Jesus supposedly was on Earth. In summary:

#5. Women Played A Huge Part In Church History (and were entirely written out)
#4. Early Christians Spent An Unhealthy Amount Of Time Fighting About Dicks
#3. The First Church Services Were More Like Lavish Parties
#2. The New Testament Was Conceived By A Heretic (Marcion of Sinope) Who Thought God Was Also The Devil
#1. Jesus Was A Shapeshifter?

They forgot one of my favorites to bring up to Christian friends: the Nicean Council's prohibition of kneeling on Sundays and during Pentecost. Standing was the normative posture for prayer at the time of the First Council of Nicea, and it still is among Eastern Orthodox Christians. Kneeling was considered most appropriate to penitential prayer, as distinct from the festive nature of Eastertide and its remembrance every Sunday. So, next time you're in church and everyone kneels, start shouting, "Heretics! Apostates!" Good times...

I blame the First Council of Nicaea in 325 BC for solidifying non-Biblical anti-women views as official Christian doctrine, leading to the horrific religion-sanctioned oppression of women that permeates most Christian sects to this day.

Would Cracked dare articles such as "5 Things You've Been Told are in the Koran, But Aren't"? or "Things About Early Islamic Practices That Would Get Them Called Heretics Today"? I wish they would.

The more you know...

the hijab is NOT about "privatizing sexuality"

I got really upset last night watching The Daily Show. Dalia Mogahed, of The Institute for Social Policy and Understanding, a "nonprofit think tank which produces research on American Muslims and Muslim communities around the world," said that the Hijab is about "privatizing sexuality." As in - because she wears the hijab, her body, her sexuality, are off-limits to men. And that means that, if a woman doesn't wear a hijab, hey, anything goes! And that's no doubt what the men who attacked women in Cologne during New Year's Eve celebrations this year were thinking.

That's not only an offensive idea for women, it's a sexist idea about men. It's the idea that men are somehow incapable of controlling themselves around women who aren't wearing a hijab, women who are sexualized, that because of how those women are dressed, how they are walking, how much makeup they have on, etc., men just can't control themselves and must go after that sexualized bod. Anyone who claims that has NO scientific biological basis for that claim. Men are just as capable of not acting on a feeling of sexual arousal as women. If a man is incapable of restraining himself when he is feeling sexual arousal for another person in his presence, then he needs to get into therapy, stat.

How a woman is dressed is not an invitation for sex. Not in the USA, not in Germany, not in Afghanistan, not in Saudi Arabia. It's reprehensible to think otherwise.

I have no problem with a woman wearing a hijab, or a chador, if that's what they want to do, and if she is doing it as HER choice - no family members or community forcing her to. I think hijabs can be quite beautiful. I've worn a head scarf when I've been abroad sometimes, not because I had to by any law, but because it was the societal norm, it made me feel more comfortable in that particular society, and because I was trying to convey my respect for the community where I was. I've covered my head in Eastern Orthodox churches and Catholic churches for the same reason. But I wonder: would a Muslim woman who believes that I, a non-Muslim woman, should wear a hijab in those communities for all of the reasons I've stated, herself choose not wear hijab in a community for the same reasons I've given for wearing one - because not wearing one was the society norm, because it would make her feel more comfortable in that particular society, because she wanted to convey her respect for the community where she was?

I am as disturbed by a woman being forced to wear a hijab by others as I am by a woman who really wants to wear it but is afraid to because of reaction in public. If a woman wants to wear a hijab, or even a chador, in the USA, and that's what she really wants to do, I'm absolutely fine with that. I saw a woman wearing a chador at the grocery store where I live, and knowing she was Arabic (I heard her speaking), and probably the only Arabic woman in my community at that moment, I made a point of walking over and speaking to her in my pathetic Arabic. Oh how her eyes lit up, how happy she was. I was greeted like a long lost friend - she took my hands and just kept saying, "Welcome! Welcome!" I almost cried. I want her to feel welcome in my community - I want anyone to, hijab or not.

I don't want any woman wearing any particular type of covering - or not wearing something, including a hijab - because family, friends or society forces them to. I dream of a world wear all women, anywhere, can wear anything they want.

But let's be clear: the idea that a woman who is not wearing a hijab is somehow asking for sexual advances is offensive. The idea that a woman who is wearing a mini skirt is asking for sexual advances is offensive. The idea that a woman wearing a tight shirt is asking for sexual advances is offensive. Is this is me wanting an idea of the West to be adopted by the world, then, okay, yes, that's what I'm doing.

I am NOT sexualized because I don't wear a hijab. A pox on Trevor Noah for not challenging Dalia Mogahed on that point.

Atheist Morality

One of the charges atheists sometimes get is that without the theist framework, there is no morality... (but) if God is the determinant of right and wrong, then that moral framework seems hardly inseparable from subjectivity. For could not God decide tomorrow that murder is acceptable?

This is quote from an essay by Brett Milam, and it's why I have such a hard time with people that say, "If you don't believe in God, then you don't have a moral compass. Anything goes!"

Christianity, Islam, and other religions, as they are practised by millions right now, today, justify rape, the subjugation of women, the oppression of non-believers or different believers, the denial of full rights and services to certain groups, and slavery. I am an atheist, and I am opposed to all of those practices - yet Christians and Muslims will say that I'm the one that lacks a moral compass because I'm an atheist?

I believe that morality is rooted in humanity, in our humanness - not in religion. Religion is a reflection of that morality, filtered through a belief in a super powerful all-knowing magical invisible being who is in control of the universe. Morality actually comes from our human capacity for empathy and from reality. I have no desire to kill a person, but if someone did have that desire, they have a choice before them, if they think about the act: kill that person, cause suffering to the remaining family, and, perhaps, go into incarceration for the act if it is deemed by society to be unlawful, OR, don't kill. It's not only the legal consequences that keep people from killing another human; it's also the moral and ethical consequences. People who have a desire to kill and then do it believe they are justified in doing so, for whatever reason, often despite what the law or their religious leaders say.

All of the religions that adhere to the Old Testament - Jews, Christians and Muslims - have no religious prohibitions against incest. The Old Testament does not prohibit incest; Lot had sex with his daughters, and had children by them, and neither he nor they are ever condemned for such. Based on their religion's teachings, based on what they believe God has said and done, incest should not be immoral for Jews, Christians and Muslims. Yet, it is - at least for most believers. Why? Mechanisms to avoid incest are widespread both in nature and across human societies - as Psychology Today points out, "the incest taboo is about as close to a universal law as human moral rules get." Humans must have seen rather early on that having sex close with relatives creates an astonishingly high chance that offspring will be born with a serious birth defect. In addition, certain sexless relationships have proven fundamental to our positive development in life, as humans; a trusting, supportive relationship with a mother, a father, a sibling, a step-father, a step-mother, a grandparent, etc. would be absolutely destroyed by sex. Even certain friendships and professional relationships can be destroyed by sexual relations, which is why most people aren't out trying to have sex with everyone in their lives, and many professional settings prohibit teachers, executives, coaches and others from having sex with subordinates. In short, societies' abhorrence to incest comes not from religion, but from our humanity and reality.

So morality for atheists is so much more than "whatever feels right." Our morality is often rooted in a sense of compassion that most humans are born with (the exception being sociopaths). So many of my atheists friends study philosophy, formally and informally - and through such, have developed strong critical thinking skills, and have a strong sense of social responsibility, and a strong concern for global and humanitarian issues - qualities that I just don't find among people who approach work and life from a particular religion. Rebecca Newberger Goldstein, philosopher, novelist and author of Plato at the Googleplex, recently told The Atlantic that studying philosophy helps make a student "a citizen in this world." She also says "It makes life so much more interesting. It’s us at our most human. And it helps us increase our humanity. No matter what you do, that’s an asset."

Morals are fluid, to a degree - what you believed as a child, or even in your 20s, may not be what you believe now. Maybe you thought divorce was unethical and should be prohibited by law when you were younger, following the teachings of Jesus, but now, years later, you yourself are divorced - still reading the Bible, still a Christian, but you have committed a sin in the eyes of Jesus. You altered your moral compass, however, based on reality, and probably based on what was best for you and your family. I sometimes change my mind about the ethics of something for similar reasons - or because of reading about different perspectives.

When I was trying to be a Christian, I was bothered by how all emphasis was on accepting Jesus as God in order to be saved in the afterlife, but there was little said about this life, the here and now, and the importance of compassion, of empathy and of love. I was told again and again how this life on Earth just didn't matter at all - I should be concerned with the afterlife. Sad about people going hungry? Don't worry - Jesus said the poor would always be with us, it's in his hands, just focus on Jesus as your savior so you can make it to Heaven some day.

When I stopped trying to be a Christian, I felt so much more free - to pursue friendships, to act on my sense of social responsibility, to fight against injustice, to explore different ideas, to offer help to others, even to love. I like the Biblical stories of the Good Samaritan (my favorite Bible story, in fact), and the Sermon on the Mount. I like the story of the "Companions in the Cave" in the Quran - also known as the Sleepers of Ephesus, who hid inside a cave to escape a persecution, and took in a dog with them - it seems to me the point is not only their faithfulness, but also that we should treat dogs kindly, as members of our family. I like that one of the Pillars of Islam is Zakāt, the believe that it is the personal responsibility of each Muslim to ease the economic hardship of others and to strive towards eliminating inequality. I love that the Jewish term mitzvah has also come to express an act of human kindness, not just a duty to a god. But I don't believe these ideas come from the magical invisible friend - the one that also says you can kill and rape others. These particular ideas I've named from these three religions make sense. Kindness makes sense. The benefits of kindness, in the long run, are worth the work of being kind. Kindess is universally good - without God.

Frances Farmer's 1931 essay from high school, "God Dies"

Film star Frances Farmer (1913-1970) was a senior at West Seattle High School in April 1931 when she wrote this essay, titled "God Dies." The essay won first place and a prize of $100 in a contest sponsored by The Scholastic, a magazine for high school students. Here is her essay, as published in The Scholastic on May 2, 1931.

--

"God Dies"

No one ever came to me and said, "You're a fool. There isn't such a thing as God. Somebody's been stuffing you." It wasn't a murder. I think God just died of old age. And when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right.

Maybe it was because I was never properly impressed with a religion. I went to Sunday school and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them. The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.

Religion was too vague. God was different. He was something real, something I could feel. But there were only certain times when I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God. "I am clean, now. I've never been as clean. I'll never be cleaner." And somehow, it was God. I wasn't sure that it was … just something cool and dark and clean.

That wasn't religion, though. There was too much of the physical about it. I couldn't get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof-tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn't last. I began to wonder what the minister meant when he said, "God, the father, sees even the smallest sparrow fall. He watches over all his children." That jumbled it all up for me. But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn't God. So at night, when I went to bed, I would think, "I am clean. I am sleepy." And then I went to sleep. It didn't keep me from enjoying the cleanness any less. I just knew that God wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget.

Sometimes I found he was useful to remember; especially when I lost things that were important. After slamming through the house, panicky and breathless from searching, I could stop in the middle of a room and shut my eyes. "Please God, let me find my red hat with the blue trimmings." It usually worked. God became a super-father that couldn't spank me. But if I wanted a thing badly enough, he arranged it.

That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always? I began to see that he didn't have much to do about hats, people dying or anything. They happened whether he wanted them to or not, and he stayed in heaven and pretended not to notice. I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was…nothingness.

I felt rather proud to think that I had found the truth myself, without help from any one. It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn’t they see it? It still puzzles me.

A secular humanist / atheist response to the Charleston shootings

I'm sure I'm not the only atheist/humanist crying this morning regarding the murders at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. in Charleston, South Carolina.

This is an assault on our entire human family. That's what terrorism is, at its heart.

I keep thinking about how the shooter was probably welcomed into the building, kindly invited to sit down to that latest meeting of a loving weekly community...

These murders are beyond what human language can describe. And the only response that truly counters terrorism is a call for our full humanity - our benevolence, our hope for all people, no matter their religion, or lack there of, and our support of each other, across social constructs of race, culture and religion.

I do not pray for Charleston, but I vow to stand with those working for peace, working for understanding, working for something far beyond tolerance - working for the embracing of the potential value and goodness of all human beings and all that we have in common.

#CharlestonShooting
#terrorism

What I expected from the Bible - & didn't get

It’s often said that the fastest way to turn Christians into atheists is to have them read the Bible cover to cover. The atrocities committed by God and his chosen people, the bizarre rituals, the vague prophecies, the blatant contradictions, the primitive morals, and the religious hysteria all make it seem like the Bible was written by violent, racist, sexist, intolerant, superstitious fanatics. I, myself, had my faith shaken many times while reading the Bible...

If God is all-knowing and all-powerful and infinitely intelligent, his book should be the most amazing piece of literature in history. It should be so brilliant and so glorious that no human author could write anything that compares. Instead, the Bible appears to be nothing more than a bunch of ancient myths, ritual instructions, mediocre poems, strange legends, religious letters, and deluded ramblings that were cobbled together by Jewish and Roman men a long time ago.

So what would we expect to find in a book that was written by God (or “divinely inspired”)? Here are seven suggestions.

The rest of the awesome blog from Southern Skeptic.

Also see I think I like my heart the way it is.

Educating Trevor Noah

Trevor Noah, the soon-to-be host of The Daily Show, has been called out for his promotion of negative views of atheists. While his comments about overweight women and Jews, among others, are being dismissed/excused as jokes that "didn't land" (um, yeah - hilarious!), his tweets about how he views atheists aren't at all jokes - he wants the world to know he holds atheists in contempt, no kidding.

He's in good company: Oprah and Stephen King feel the same way, unfortunately, and atheists.

If Noah, a South African, is going to be the host of one of the most popular television shows in the USA, a country that is incredibly diverse not just in terms of ethnicities, but also in terms of values, education, economics, etc., where everyone belongs to a different community of faith OR NONE AT ALL, he's got a lot of catching up to do to learn about our not-at-all-unified culture. I hope he starts his education about the USA with learning about atheism in our country, and learning about it from atheists themselves.

He could take an hour and read through the following 20 essays about atheism and, perhaps, understand why his tweets - and his publicly-stated view of atheists - are so off-the-mark, and why such make us reluctant to watch The Daily Show:

Penn Jillette's excellent essay, "There Is No God" NPR's "This I Believe" series

What Religious People Have Dead Wrong About Atheists (from Your Atheist Muse)

Contrary to what the Catholic League says, I believe in so much... (from Your Atheist Muse)

Does Secularism Make People More Ethical? From Der Spiegel

Not a Christian (from Your Atheist Muse)

The joy and truth I feel (from Your Atheist Muse)

Do Atheists have faith? (from Your Atheist Muse) (from Your Atheist Muse)

The Atheist Response to Tragedy (from Your Atheist Muse)

Quit trying to convert me! (from Your Atheist Muse)

Why Are Believers Willfully Ignorant About Atheists?

Rethinking His Religion (from The New York Times)

Remembering Butterfly McQueen (from Your Atheist Muse)

the arrogance of religion (from Your Atheist Muse)

Satanic Suffering (from Your Atheist Muse)

Why I "do good"; Why I try to be kind (from Your Atheist Muse)

The power & the glory of hope, WITHOUT a God (from Your Atheist Muse)

Love is logical. Love makes sense. (from Your Atheist Muse)

Lovely things that feel magical in the natural world (from Your Atheist Muse)

If "God is good all the time", then God is really lousy (from Your Atheist Muse)

Why I love being an atheist (from Your Atheist Muse)

Maybe Trevor Noah could read these and, instead of deriding atheists, he could either apologize or just not talk about us at all - the latter of which will be quite hard to do on the Daily Show... at least as it currently exists.