I'm not fond of inspirational or motivational posters or memes. They seem as disconnected from reality as some line of comfort from the Bible or Koran, assuring you that God is going to do this or that for you, no really, eventually, but if he doesn't, you know, it's his plan, either way, be grateful, blah blah blah. And that complete disconnect from the real world rubs me the wrong way. To me, supposedly-inspirational quotes are saying, "This horrible thing that's happening to you is bringing people around you down, so cheer up and quit killin' the vibe!"
I have worked in some war-torn countries and with people that have witnessed genocide. I'm friends with some of them on Facebook. And some of those folks LOVE INSPIRATIONAL MEMES. Like this one a friend in Kabul posted recently:
Life is like a camera:
Focus on what's important
Capture the good times
Develop from the negatives
And if things don't work out
Take another shot!
I stared at it, like I stare at all her memes, and other people's memes, and think, really? You, living in a warzone, love these chirpy citations?
I try to be ultra-sensitive in appreciating people's dire pasts and current dire circumstances. I also try so hard to be realistic in my approach to comforting human suffering. I avoid platitudes like the plague for people going through painful times, and certainly for people in a place where there are bombings regularly. Because I know what it's like to be devastated by something and have someone say, "God has you!" or "When a door closes, a window opens" or "the universe has a plan." Those things not only aren't helpful to me, I pretty much want to punch the person who says them.
Yet I also cannot deny that some people LOVE platitudes. And I get it: they affirm what people want to believe is true, and having hope affirmed is a powerful thing, one that can get you through all sorts of horrors. A quote can resolve a dialogue, a debate, that you’re having with yourself - and you may be yearning for such a resolution for that internal debate or questioning, and here's this perfect quote that simplifies your struggle and how to solve it, wrapping the answer up neatly in a well-structured, pithy phrase. Certainly, we all want to believe there is wisdom that can help us through any struggle, and those inspirational quotes can seem like well-established, even long-established wisdom.
I'm not going to talk anyone out of liking quotes that give them comfort, as long as they don't assume others would be comforted by them. God is good, all the time is one of the most offensive things I have EVER heard, as I've said before, and you can keep it to yourself when you're around me, thanks very much. But I'm not going to comment on your inspirational quotes on Facebook - you do you, and if that makes you feel better, that's great.
Do I have quotes I like, that give me comfort? Oh, yes, very much. I like quotes about how nature gives inspiration and comfort. I like quotes from Carl Sagan about the vastness and wonder of the universe. I like quotes about the comfort and joy given to us by music... or dogs.
But one of my favorite quotes is from Mr. Rogers. Freakin' Mr. Rogers. Yes, the television show host. The Presbyterian minister. The devout Christian. And it's that quote about what his mother would say when something horrible happened, like an assignation, or a disaster that killed several people:
“Always look for the helpers,” she’d tell me. “There’s always someone who is trying to help.” I did, and I came to see that the world is full of doctors and nurses, police and firemen, volunteers, neighbors and friends who are ready to jump in to help when things go wrong.
I am comforted by that statement because I want so much to believe that there are people who will ignore what religion or society tells them and, instead, help EVERYONE and ANYONE who is hurting.
I won't mock quotes that give you comfort. Hope you will do the same for me.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
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.
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.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
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?
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 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.
Hope you are having a good 2019 and, if you aren't, I hope you have the resources and will to make it better.
Thursday, January 3, 2019
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.
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.
Sunday, October 7, 2018
all male panels - not just religions' problem
Last month, I saw an announcement for a panel on "Spirituality and Humanity: An Interfaith Conversation" in the greater Portland metro area, where I live in Oregon. Of course, it was an all-male panel - I mean, how could WOMEN know anything about religion, enough so as to be speakers on behalf of such, right?
I made sure to submit the Facebook graphic I saw for the event, posted to Harris Zafar's Facebook page, to Congrats, you have an all-male panel!, so it would get the David Hasselhoff seal of approval:
There are female atheists who are amazing speakers and thinkers. Like comedian Julia Sweeney, formerly of Saturday Night Live and featured on Showtime with her show Letting Go of God. Or Rebecca Watson, founder and contributor of the hilarious, insightful blog Skepchick and co-host of the podcast The Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe. Or Lori Lipman Brown, the founding director of Secular Coalition for America, the only lobbying group for atheist, agnostic and humanist Americans. Or Annie Laurie Gaylor, co-founder and current co-president of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, an organization devoted to upholding the separation of church and state. Or Amanda Metskas, now the executive director of Camp Quest, a summer camp for children of parents with naturalistic worldviews. Or Lyz Liddell, who for many years directed campus organizing for the Secular Student Alliance. Or Debbie Goddard, director of African Americans for Humanism and campus outreach coordinator at the Center for Inquiry. Or Kathleen Johnson, founder of the Military Association of Atheists and Freethinkers.
But "Atheist Safehouse" doesn't seem to know any of this...
Sexism, whether among the religious or the non-believers, makes me angry. So I'll pass on "Atheist Safehouse" membership.
Also see:
Atheist tells women they should approve sexist photos
and
You don't need religion to be sexist
I made sure to submit the Facebook graphic I saw for the event, posted to Harris Zafar's Facebook page, to Congrats, you have an all-male panel!, so it would get the David Hasselhoff seal of approval:
I love to make fun of religious types - whether Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, whatever - and their consistently dismissive attitude regarding women, especially when it comes to leadership.
But I also have to acknowledge the reality that atheists aren't much better when it comes to recognizing female leaders.
Here's a Facebook group that the Facebook algorithms recommended to me recently. Notice anything?
There are female atheists who are amazing speakers and thinkers. Like comedian Julia Sweeney, formerly of Saturday Night Live and featured on Showtime with her show Letting Go of God. Or Rebecca Watson, founder and contributor of the hilarious, insightful blog Skepchick and co-host of the podcast The Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe. Or Lori Lipman Brown, the founding director of Secular Coalition for America, the only lobbying group for atheist, agnostic and humanist Americans. Or Annie Laurie Gaylor, co-founder and current co-president of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, an organization devoted to upholding the separation of church and state. Or Amanda Metskas, now the executive director of Camp Quest, a summer camp for children of parents with naturalistic worldviews. Or Lyz Liddell, who for many years directed campus organizing for the Secular Student Alliance. Or Debbie Goddard, director of African Americans for Humanism and campus outreach coordinator at the Center for Inquiry. Or Kathleen Johnson, founder of the Military Association of Atheists and Freethinkers.
But "Atheist Safehouse" doesn't seem to know any of this...
Sexism, whether among the religious or the non-believers, makes me angry. So I'll pass on "Atheist Safehouse" membership.
Also see:
Atheist tells women they should approve sexist photos
and
You don't need religion to be sexist
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Science Pub!
Last night, I went to something called a "Science Pub" last night in Hillsboro, Oregon. I had seen the event on Facebook by the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI) and was intrigued by the name, as well as the cost - just $5. OMSI is a very expensive place in downtown Portland and quite a schlep from my house, so this seemed like something not to be missed - cheap and nearby. I rode the bus - the venue was just 25 minutes from my house - so I could have a beer while doing whatever it is one does at a "science pub." I really had no idea what it would be.
It turned out to be a slide presentation where the audience gets to drink beer and wine while listening. And it was PACKED - I didn't reserve seating and, therefore, had to be on a waiting list. I was one of the last people that got in.
The presentation was terrific: about the Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy (SOPHIA) project - an infrared telescope in that flies around in a Boeing 747 and helps us understand space. Dr. Ralph Shuping, an Oregonian and a Senior Research Scientist at the Space Science Institute, gave an introduction to infrared airborne astronomy that even I could understand and talked about the importance of SOPHIA, which is now in its seventh year of operations. SOPHIA is a partnership project between the USA and German space agencies.
Dr. Shuping is a fun presenter - I love a good lecture, with no bells and whistles, just a really compelling speaker with great information to share. And as I sat there listening to the amazing content, sipping my Pilsner, I started to get emotional: it was a Tuesday night, and here were about 150 people happily listening to a science lecture, making noises when they were awed by some cool information shared. The audience was intrigued and inspired - even excited - by what they were learning. And I was a part of it. It was yet another moment when I realized the universe is so much bigger, so much more complex and so much more wonderous than anything I ever learned in a church or Sunday school.
I think I need more science pubs in my life...
It turned out to be a slide presentation where the audience gets to drink beer and wine while listening. And it was PACKED - I didn't reserve seating and, therefore, had to be on a waiting list. I was one of the last people that got in.
The presentation was terrific: about the Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy (SOPHIA) project - an infrared telescope in that flies around in a Boeing 747 and helps us understand space. Dr. Ralph Shuping, an Oregonian and a Senior Research Scientist at the Space Science Institute, gave an introduction to infrared airborne astronomy that even I could understand and talked about the importance of SOPHIA, which is now in its seventh year of operations. SOPHIA is a partnership project between the USA and German space agencies.
Dr. Shuping is a fun presenter - I love a good lecture, with no bells and whistles, just a really compelling speaker with great information to share. And as I sat there listening to the amazing content, sipping my Pilsner, I started to get emotional: it was a Tuesday night, and here were about 150 people happily listening to a science lecture, making noises when they were awed by some cool information shared. The audience was intrigued and inspired - even excited - by what they were learning. And I was a part of it. It was yet another moment when I realized the universe is so much bigger, so much more complex and so much more wonderous than anything I ever learned in a church or Sunday school.
I think I need more science pubs in my life...
Friday, January 12, 2018
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.
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.
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