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. 

Curious

If you haven't seen the television series Ted Lasso, stop reading now - because the following is a spoiler. And I wouldn't spoil that show for the world. If you have no desire to watch Ted Lasso, please also stop reading, because the following will mean nothing to you. 

For those of you who did watch it, or watched at least the first season: I felt like I knew who I was, for the first time in my life, when Ted Lasso played darts. 

Guys have underestimated me my entire life and for years I never understood why – it used to really bother me. Then one day I was driving my little boy to school, and I saw a quote by Walt Whitman, it was painted on the wall there and it said, ‘Be curious, not judgmental.’ I like that. 

(Ted throws a dart.)

So, I get back in my car and I’m driving to work and all of a sudden it hits me – all them fellas that used to belittle me, not a single one of them was curious. You know, they thought they had everything all figured out, so they judged everything, and they judged everyone. And I realized that their underestimating me – who I was had nothing to do with it. Because if they were curious, they would’ve asked questions. Questions like, ‘Have you played a lot of darts, Ted?’”

(Ted throws another dart.)

To which I would have answered, ‘Yes sir. Every Sunday afternoon at a sports bar with my father from age ten until I was 16 when he passed away.’ Barbecue sauce. 

(Ted throws a double bullseye to win the game.)

Some people love this scene because the person he beats in the game so deserved to be beaten, and got beaten by his own hubris - he made an assumption, he didn't to his homework. And that is delightful. But for me, I love the scene because I, too, have been underestimated all my life. I still am by a lot of folks, including some very dear to me. But it mostly happened when I was far younger, and so often belittled by neighborhood kids, some fellow students, even some teachers. Hearing that speech on Ted Lasso made me realize, for the first time, that none of them were curious. Not about anything, not just me. Later, when I started to do quite well at this or that, I would hear about their shock. "Her?! She did THAT?!? She worked THERE?!? She met HIM?!? She went to THERE?!?" And my favorite: "She sings?!"

Yes, me. I did that. Because I'm curious, and because I found other people just as curious as me. 

And if you have known me, but didn't know I sing - then you were never curious about me. 

Be kind to others. And be curious. 

"Journalism saved me from fundamentalism"

...truth is not a set of answers that you begin with and then retroactively fit the questions to. It's something that requires rigor and modesty and a lot of work... a lot of things that we would like to put in boxes labeled true and false defy our ability to do that. I think fundamentalism is this desire to put answers out of reach of questioning... I've come to believe that journalism saved me from fundamentalism... t's taught me that truth is not a set of answers that you begin with and then retroactively fit the questions to. It's something that requires rigor and modesty and a lot of work. And also our recognition that a lot of things that we would like to put in boxes labeled true and false defy our ability to do that.

Jon Ward, in a interview with NPR, about walking away from evangelical, fundamentalist Christianity.

Mr. Ward is still a Christian. He still defines himself as a man of faith. But he also believes in questioning and learning and growing and exploring and CHANGING HIS MIND. Questioning and pondering were things that many an exasperated Sunday School teacher, preacher and friend that is a believer most certainly did NOT want me to keep doing as I grew up, and said so when they were tired of me asking questions and making observations. And I didn't even go to fundamentalist churches!

Do read that NPR article. The part about being expected to faint and gyrate per "receiving" the Holy Spirit is something I could definitely identify with. 

I'm not sure if I had been handled differently by all those people I asked questions of that I would not have turned out to be an atheist. As I've said many times, I just never felt anything in any church or religious service or during prayer that every one said I would, or was supposed to, or whatever. And I WANTED to believe - I was entirely onboard as a little girl and couldn't wait to finally feel that closeness with and comfort from God everyone said I would if I just kept praying, just kept keeping my heart open, and blah blah blah. 

I am open to finding out something I wanted to be true isn't. That someone I believed in isn't who I thought they were. That how I feel about something now may not be how I feel about it in a few years. That I might be wrong. I feel sorry for people who are incapable of changing their mind as facts emerged - and I feel scared of them when they are in positions of power. 

Scientific understanding changes from time to time, and that doesn't bother me at all - that's what happens as more facts become available. Why would I fear that? The facts don't change but our understanding of such does. I love that it leads to MORE questions - so exciting! Endless discovery! Wahoo!

Also see:

The Benefits of Awe

No doubt?

The reason for the season? Light.

The reason for the season? It is, literally, the tilt of the Earth in relation to the sun. And today, in the Northern Hemisphere, it is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, when the Earth's North pole has reached its maximum tilt away from the Sun. We deck our halls with boughs of holly and bring in trees into our houses and decorate them and burn the Yule log, borrowing those traditions from earlier religions that honored the solstice. Much of the celebrations surrounding the Winter Solstice are about the hope and faith we have that the sun, the light will return. Whatever light you hope for, I have faith that it will return, in case you've been missing it.

The Glory of the James Webb Telescope

I hope you've been looking at all the photos from the James Webb Space Telescope. I hope you have been seeking out the photos and the commentary! The photos have already expanded our view of the universe and are already giving us further insight into the mysteries of the vast universe.

The experience of looking at the photos and reading the commentary about them is exciting, it's inspiring, it's beautiful and it's educational. It's revelations! And it gives me hope. 

Have a look:

The new science coming from the James Webb telescope has astronomers giddy (NPR).

James Webb Space Telescope's stunning 'Phantom Galaxy' picture looks like a wormhole (NPR).

Webb Images of Jupiter and More Now Available In Commissioning Data (NASA).

I look out at that vast universe and think of all the wonderful opportunities for learning. And all possibility. Dream it - it could be out there! 

We are under no obligation to praise the universe - it has no consciousness nor ears to hear such, and no ego that needs to be catered to. But I do feel reverence for the universe - its vastness, its complexity, its glorious majesty, its potential for endless learning. I want to celebrate it, I want to indulge this feeling of rapture - and so I do! 

We need psalms of celebration for these amazing photos and the knowledge that comes with them! 

And we also need to celebrate that we have a brain and a consciousness that allows us both to celebrate it and to wonder what it means.

Where's My Cape?

Sometimes, I wish there was an outfit - a habit - or some kind of headdress or scarf that people could adopt to say:

• I’m an atheist.
• I’m a humanist.
• I’m a learner.
• I’m committed to science.
• I am a perpetual student.

Just so we find each other... and witness for OUR values just by popping into the 7-11.

The Benefits of Awe

Awe “makes us curious rather than judgmental. It makes us collaborative. It makes us humble, sharing and altruistic. It quiets the ego so that you’re not thinking about yourself as much.” 

It also calms the brain’s default mode network and has been shown to reduce inflammation. In other words, don’t underestimate the power of goose bumps.

This article from the Washington Post about the power of "awe" is amazing. 

And here is the 2018 white paper prepared for the John Templeton Foundation by the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley September 2018: The Science of Awe.