The entire universe in a glass of wine

"If we look in glass of wine closely enough we see the entire universe."

Theoretical physicist Richard Feynman earned himself the moniker “the Great Explainer” and his lectures at CalTech became, in the words of Maria Popova, "a cultural classic, blending brilliant yet accessible explanations of science with poignant meditations on life’s most profound questions."

This blog by Brain Pickings about one of Feynman's most famous lectures is a treasure. It focuses on a lecture titled “The Relation of Physics to Other Sciences,” in which Feynman, "eloquent and enthralling as ever, illustrates the connectedness of everything to everything else.

Read the excerpt, or listen to it (there's a link on the page), and be inspired!

Cowards and Christmas music

Today, on my Facebook feed, a friend wrote:

I'm so happy to see all of your children's holiday performance photos...but sad that I'm in <<NAME DELETED>> County Schools and we can't do such a thing as we might offend someone... Since no program is done, the atheist children are well covered.

Her friends jumped in, deriding us horrible ole' Atheists for taking away all celebrations of the holidays in schools.

Let's be clear: if this public school system in Tennessee really doesn't have any holiday music performances, it's because the decision-makers in that school system are lazy, cowardly and misinformed. It's NOT because of Atheists, nor because of the other groups, like Catholics, Mormons or Jehovah Witnesses, who also sue public school systems that use school activities to promote a particular religion.

Any public school in the USA can have a program of music, dance and/or skits in December that includes Christian music - it just shouldn't be ONLY Christian music. As the Freedom From Religion Foundation notes, "Nine Christmas songs and one 'Dreidel Song' does not a balanced concert make."

As noted by ASCD (formerly the Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development): Religious “neutrality” does not mean hostility to religion nor ignoring religion. "Neutrality means protecting the religious liberty rights of all students while simultaneously rejecting school endorsement or promotion of religion."

It's this simple: a public school concert should not be a constant advertisement for a religion. A school concert that features well known relgiously-themed Christmas carols as well secular songs such as "Deck the Halls," "Walking in a Winter Wonderland," and "White Christmas" (and, even better "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer") is going to meet the standard of celebrating various aspects of the season without endorsing any one religion. Even a winter concert of nothing but devotional music by Brahms, Hayden, Verdi and other classical music legends and no secular choices at all would probably not be challenged as promoting one religion but, rather, be seen as educating and celebrating historical European classical music, and as a way for the student performers to improve their classical music skills.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to sing along to "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful," followed by Robert Earl Keene's "Merry Christmas from the Family". That's how I roll at Yule Time. And if you want to come sing Christmas Carols at my house, bring it - I've got some chocolate for ya. Just don't expect me to convert.

Are all volunteer firefighters religious? Of course not.

In this blog Making certain volunteers feel unwelcomed because of your language, the blogger explores the issue of religious volunteers in a group that doesn't officially identify with a religion making other volunteers feel unwelcomed. The example used is a Facebook group that is supposedly for all volunteer firefighters. In response to the religious message, which is meant to inspire, the blogger asks:

"Can you imagine if the administrators posted a message that assumed all volunteer firefighters are atheists and, if they aren’t, they should be? If a message was posted saying that the best way to handle challenging situations in life was to NOT believe in a god? Can you understand how that kind of message would be completely inappropriate for a group for all volunteer firefighters, not just religious ones?"

And speaking of volunteering, here is a list of Group Volunteering Suggestions for Atheist and Secular Volunteers - places where you will be welcomed with your time and expertise to help others!

Thankful

Thankful, as an adjective, means to be pleased and relieved. To me, being thankful is demonstrating appreciation for good things. It's something humans have done for a few millennia, building an endless number of rituals around such.

I don't need a deity to feel grateful to - to be thankful, to have gratitude, needs no belief in an invisible super friend.

As I noted earlier this year, the Greater Good Science Center at the University of California-Berkeley studies the psychology, sociology, and neuroscience of well-being, including how the traits of altruism, compassion, empathy, and mindfulness transcend religions and contribute to happiness. The importance of gratitude is one focus of their study. Scientists are finding that people who practice gratitude consistently report a host of benefits:

• Stronger immune systems and lower blood pressure
• Higher levels of positive emotions
• More joy, optimism, and happiness
• Acting with more generosity and compassion
• Feeling less lonely and isolated

A few years ago, I decided to start sending thank you notes. I send them via formal stationary or via a simple postcard. Some people have gushed to me how they have made them feel - others have never mentioned them. But I do them, regardless of any comment I may or may not get, because I want that moment recorded and acknowledged, for myself and the other person. I want to demonstrate, clearly, that I valued that thing or moment. And it really, really makes me feel good.

Also a few years ago, I made a commitment to write at least two good reviews for every bad one I write on Yelp. I've actually far exceeded that margin. One place I wrote a bad review for saw all my good reviews and worked to correct the problem because they could see I wasn't just a curmudgeon.

And then there's my victory dance: for getting a discount airline ticket, or a refund of some kind, or for making a flight I was convinced I was going to miss... if I'm going to stomp about and lament a missed flight or poor customer service, I'm going to get happy for when things go right - much to my husband's embarrassment at times (dancing in public does that).

Thanksgiving has always been a special holiday¹ to me. I like the focus on people being together, rather than on gifts. It transcends any religion. I've experienced the day far from my family, hundreds, even thousands of miles away, and that feeling of welcome, of kindness and of celebration for being together is something I always cherish.

So, for what am I thankful? For 2013, I'm grateful for:

• the patience, love and support from my husband
• the continuing health and vibrant nature of my 17 year-old puppy
• the time I got to spend with my sister and nieces this year
• the kindness of the community in which I live
• my financial stability
• the paid work I got in 2013
• the stamps in my passport, even the latest one for a trip that was a disaster
• all national parks in the USA
• my motorcycle
• the Affordable Care Act (but not the web site!)
• the natural beauty all around me
• the choice to buy a house seeming to be the right one
• Benedict Cumberbatch 
• a release date for Sherlock in the USA
• Nathan Fillion on Twitter

Savoring life is good for you - science says so! If you don't feel gratitude, but want to, then go through the motions of gratitude - write thank you notes (even on sticky notes), send an email thanking someone for something, write a positive Yelp review for a restaurant, a hair salon, a car mechanic, a lawn service, a store, or other business you have patronized. Going through the motions can cultivate the emotion of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

1: The word holiday probably comes from the Old English word hāligdæg, which means holy day. Here, I'm using it to mean day of celebration and recreation and no work.

I don't like your church, but I might like your church goers

The Friendly Atheist, Hemant Mehta, recently published a blog about Stephen Colbert being one of the headliners at the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner this year, in honor of the former New York governor and Roman Catholic luminary. In it, he noted:

Colbert, as a devout Catholic, may be one of the only people who can rip on the Church’s foibles as its leaders look on with joy. That’s a power I hope he takes full advantage of while he can. 

If you watch the Colbert Report, you know that Colbert has been incredibly hard on the Roman Catholic Church via his show, taking very sharp, unflinching jabs at it regarding its treatment of women, its wealth and its coverup of pedophilia, to the point that you can tell he's made his audience uncomfortable (gasps rather than laughter).

Yet, the reaction from Mehta's readers was hostile, with endless criticisms and incredulity about Colbert being Catholic.

The vast majority of the actions and policies of the Roman Catholic Church absolutely disgust me. Since I wasn't raised Catholic, its rituals are rather meaningless to me, and so I have no nostalgia for them. Its wealth is vomit-inducing - while I can appreciate the architecture of various Roman Catholic Churches around the world, I can't ignore the gold and silver, the sculptures, the multi-million dollar ornamentation. And I also seethe at how often the Roman Catholic Church has turned a blind eye to criminal, even deadly behavior, from crimes against humanity during Western Europe's colonization of the world, to the Holocaust, to the the workhouses (slavery) of Ireland, to the Rwandan genocide and on and on and on and on.

But I also don't judge individual Catholics any more than I judge someone from a country with a government that commits atrocities. I have been thankful that so many people around the world have been kind to me, a USA citizen, despite what the USA military or government has done to their country. I love my country, but I'll be the first to give you a long list of things about it that disgust me.

Like most of my Roman Catholic friends, I bet that Colbert sees the failures in the Roman Catholic Church as failures of humans, rather than his God. I also bet that he's benefitted hugely from his membership in terms of emotional support in times of crisis - his father and brothers were killed in a plane accident, and if you've ever lost a close family member and been a part of a religiously-inclined community, you know how amazing that very sincere support and love can be - I speak from experience, as an Atheist that was overwhelmed with the support of my Bible Belt community when my father died. I think he's stayed in the Roman Catholic Church, despite the horrors that he readily acknowledges and continually criticizes on his show, because of the support he and his family has received in their (his family's) worst time, because he credits that church with his sense of social justice and compassion, and because of the faction within it that works so passionately for social justice and engages in activities like setting up homeless shelter, helps illegal immigrants, etc., as well as the faction that is against Rome's policies regarding women and birth control - I think he wants to be one of those people that wants to be a part of the compassion it can promote but also work to change it (much like Jimmy Carter stayed an active Baptist for so long, trying to offer an alternative to what his church's convention was saying).

Maybe it's a little like why I have stayed a citizen of the USA, and stayed active in government, voting, working for candidates and joining local government citizens' committees: while I'm disgusted oh-so-often by the actions my government takes, I don't want to leave it to the people who want to take away women's rights, discourage minorities from voting, start wars, etc. I want it to be something that helps everyone. And it won't be that if everyone that's disgusted with it refuses to be a part of it to help change it.

No, I don't like the Roman Catholic Church. At all. But just as people abroad haven't said horrible things about me for remaining a citizen of the USA, despite drone strikes and invasions of other countries and people imprisoned for years without trial, I'm going to cut you some slack for remaining in whatever community of faith you're a part of. It's your words and actions that are going to win me or lose me.

Fellowship & caring communities

I live across from a Methodist Church. The parsonage is right across the street from my house. My husband and I have hosted the minister and his family for a cookout and we've run back and forth between the houses when one of us has run out of sugar, or when we've made a particularly impressive batch of cookies, or there's just too many tomatoes from the garden.

They know we're Atheists. I'm sure that bothers them on some level - both the husband and wife are ordained, and as such, they must consider it their business to be bothered by such a thing. But they never make it an issue, and I appreciate that. And they drink beer, in contrast to the Baptist ministers I grew up with, and don't think Harry Potter books are Satantic, and aren't trying to get science out of schools, so how can I not dig them?

There are two people in our neighborhood with mental disabilities that go to the Methodist church together. I speak with them a few times a week. One lives in a group home, and I'm pretty sure it's a very good one and that he is well taken care of. The other lives in a house that has been converted into apartments, and it's a slum - the porch is about to fall in, the porch is covered in discarded toys and furniture, and I don't even want to think about conditions inside. She should probably be in that group home as well, but that would mean giving up her two dogs, and she would never do that.

I worry about them, but realized the other day that I don't worry too much, because I just assume that the community at the church will take care of them if anything bad happened. I know that church will bring them food if either were homebound, they would collect money if either of them needed help paying a doctor's bill, and if they didn't show up at church for a Sunday or two - maybe even just one - someone is going to call on them and make sure they're okay.

I don't miss religion. I don't miss trying to be religious. I don't miss the misinformation or denial of science. But there is one thing I miss: the intentional caring community.

I know not all communities of faith are loving: I know that there are churches that have turned their back on people in need: someone divorcing, someone with HIV/AIDS, someone who has married a person of a different ethnicity, and on and on. I know there are churches that are more about raising money for the preacher and his family than caring for each other in the congregation.

That said, I do admire communities of faith where congregation members really do take care of each other. And I also worry about people that don't have caring neighbors or caring co-workers, or aren't a part of social networks that have a lot of caring people in such that will pass the hat for a member, colleague or neighbor in need. I know a lot of people that no longer believe in God but still go to church because they love the social and caring aspects of their church... and the potlucks... and they don't want to give that up.

I walk my dog every day, twice a day. If I see a garage sale in my neighborhood, I go - not because I need anything, but just to have an excuse to interact with a neighbor. When someone new moves in to our neighborhood, I bring that person a bottle of high-end olive oil, my business card and welcome note. I say hello to absolutely everyone I pass while I'm walking in the neighborhood. I don't like all of my neighbors - a couple I find particularly annoying, per late night noise and bumper sticker messages that frighten me. But I know almost every neighbor in a two block area by sight, and many by name. That's why I do all of those things - I want to know them, and I want them to know me.

Why? Because I want to know if that guy walking out of a house nearby and putting things in a car belongs to that house. Because if I haven't seen a neighbor in a long while, I'm going to ask if others have seen him or her, and I might even knock on the door. Because if someone is bedridden, I'm going to take them a meal.

And because I hope they will do the same for me. I admit it - I want to know I have a community that has my back. I also do it because it contributes to making my neighborhood an even nicer place to live -  I tend to introduce neighbors who have lived just two doors down from each other but don't know each other's names. If I'm having a problem with a neighbor - say, loud music - it makes them much less defensive than when I walk over and ask for it to be turned down.

I also volunteer for a couple of area nonprofits. I do it because of how it makes me feel. And, I admit it: I do it because I want more members of my community. And because I'm hoping for more potlucks in my life.

Sociologist Eric Klinenberg of New York University says vibrant, tight-knit neighborhoods could fare better in a disaster, according to studies:

We always talk about the physical engineering that we need to protect cities, and systems and people during crises. We have failed to recognize the significance of our social infrastructure, the way in which communications matters, the way in which our relationships with neighbors, and family and friends matters; the way in which our neighborhood can protect or imperil us, depending on where we are.

I think this is a practice Atheists should embrace. What if Atheists became known for, in addition to not believing in God, as: those people that know everyone in our apartment building or the block, the ones that will bring you soup when you're sick, the ones that will call the police if we hear you screaming, the ones that become volunteer firefighters and join police auxiliaries - the ones who care, not because we share the same beliefs, but because we are humane.

Satanic Suffering

I hate to see people suffer. I hate to see animals suffer. When I hear that someone has died - family, friend or stranger - my earliest thoughts always include, "I hope the death was quick. I hope they didn't suffer." I think the same things about animals dead on the road or on my plate.

Why? Because I have empathy - too much, according to my husband. I sometimes cry at the idea of people suffering. I cry over what's dead on the side of the road. I don't like anyone or anything to be in pain. I just don't.

Being an Atheist, I don't ask questions like "Why did that young person get struck down with that horrible disease before he'd even made it to high school" or "Why did that tsunami wipe out thousands and thousands of people in slow, painful deaths all at once?" We, as humankind, do our best to prevent and cure diseases, and we've done an AMAZING job wiping out many of the causes of early death and ongoing misery for so many, many people - but our biology's mysteries are endless, and maybe, while we will always discover new preventions and cures, there will always be things out there that kill the young, and even cause their suffering before death. It's not evil - it just is. For me, the whys went away when I embraced my Atheism, leaving me in much more peace than when I was trying to believe, though still distressed at the idea of suffering.

Do I believe in evil? Yes - I believe people can do good things, like helping other people, or they can do evil things, like rape and kill people. What is the source of evil? Same as the source for good: us. Humans. We're capable of both. There is evil in the world, and it's made up of various combinations of superstitions, arrogance and ignorance - with the occasional psychological illness thrown in there, like sociopathy.

When I was a kid, I believed in Satan. I believed there was this being ready to do me and my family untold harm. I believed in hell. I believed if I died and still didn't believe in God the way I was supposed to, despite trying oh-so-hard to do so, I was going to be tortured forever. I was taught this by various adults and children around me. Two books by the same author, The Late Great Planet Earth, and Satan is Alive and Well on Planet Earth were frequently talked about by other kids at the Methodist church my family sometimes attended. The world was going to end soon, I thought, and I was still unsaved, because I still didn't really believe in God, so I was going to SUFFER FOREVER! I cried myself to sleep at night out of terror and anticipation of the pain. Through many tears, I prayed and begged for God to please enter my heart and take away this fear.

Until one day, the fear stopped. Almost at once. I was sitting on my bed, trying to sort out all the contradictions in the Bible and among different Christian sects and on and on and it just hit me, BOOM - there cannot be a devil. There just can't. It's completely, utterly illogical. If God was all the things everyone was assuring me he was - all-merciful, all-loving, all-caring - then there just could NOT be a hell. I just sat there on my bed, stunned at my conclusion. I kept it to myself. But wow, did I ever start getting better nights of sleep. And the more I questioned and let go of the religious ideas being pushed at me, the better I felt.

Parents who teach their kids that Satan exists are terrifying their children, not helping them. It's emotional abuse - there is just no other way to describe it. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of children, right now, terrified, as I was once upon a time, that a magical, invisible, extremely powerful being is out to get them. There is nothing - NOTHING - to be gained by telling any person, child or adult, that his or her suffering comes from Satan. What a despicable thing to tell anyone! It's crippling manipulation that is nothing short of reprehensible. It's nothing short of evil.