December 22, 2009
Closet Christians
The Salon article is a little whiney, I’ll admit, but Calhoun summarizes my frustration about attitudes towards my faith:
And now, too, I wonder: When I go to church, am I liable for every monstrous thing every denomination has ever done in the name of Jesus? Am I allowed to get spiritual fulfillment from something that has been, and continues to be, so disastrously invoked by other people? Am I allowed to just go to church sometimes and read the Bible sometimes without wearing a huge cross necklace and checking an official box on forms?
But also, increasingly, I wonder: When I’m getting a ride from some friends and they start talking about how stupid religious people are and quoting lines from ”Religulous,” do I have an obligation to point out how reductive and bigoted they’re being, the way I would if they were talking about a particular race? Increasingly I wonder if I should pipe up from the back seat and say, “Excuse me, but these fools you’re talking about? I’m one of them.”
Also: do people actually take Religulous and Bill Maher seriously, or are those that do like the liberal version of Randians?
(via Gavin Craig)
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12 Responses to “Closet Christians”
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Consider the vast history of religious persecution–and then tell me that American Cristians are sorely beset by mean and insensitive people at every turn. It seems to be in the blood of such people to present themselves as persecuted even when the powers that be, all across the country–from the smallest towns to the largest cities–expect Christianity to hold sway over broad realms of social policy and “basic” personal proprieties. These same Christians seldom pause to think of how many other religions and gods they regard as ridiculous or pernicious.
“Do people actullay take Religulous and Bill Maher seriously?” Yes, and I’m one of them. I tend to be Libertarian in my views about religious freedom, and I respect each person’s right to pursue such understanding. But it’s just silly to say that there shouldn’t be an active social reaction to the social manifestations of religious views all around–even as many Christians leap into the social arena deliberately and then jump over the the priorities of individual religious rights when pressed. I’m frankly sick of the dishonesty of this kind of evasiveness. If you believe something that is popular, try to be aware of the times when you are subtly expecting everybody to therefore believe it also, and when what you believe is (or becomes) unpopular, settle for having a backbone and the will to demonstrate what is good about what you believe if you feel the need to do so.
All I know is that I find myself with similar feelings. They might be batshit crazy and completely unreasonable, but it is how I often feel. It can’t be helped, I am incapable of controlling my feelings. I did rather like what Gavin said, actually, “having rude atheist friends is not the same as being discriminated against.”
On the flip side, many of my religious friends (“my people” supposedly) make me queasy.
I guess I just feel like some strange half-breed who feels neither at home with either set of people. This drives me nuts.
I think you ask a good question, Andrew, and as someone who does take Religulous and Bill Maher seriously (if that is the right word for having an appreciation for someone who lampoons something one perceives as ridiculous) then yes, I do take him and his kind seriously.
I grew up in the church, going through various phases of religious belief. Ranging from considering myself a Christian who believed in the spiritual authority of Christ, a messenger sent from the divine to guide all human souls toward enlightenment, to a person who had a sense of himself as spiritual, who found nourishment within the context of the church, but without any principled belief in the fundamental details of the Christian religion, to a spiritual agnostic, to, now, an open hearted Atheist who believes only in the ability of the universe to undermine one’s expectations.
That said, the information I didn’t have access to in my thinking as a child, and which once I had it induced a sort of aw shucks chuckle, is a history of the church, a history of the bible, a greater understanding of human psychology, a history of the tradition of belief that unfolded in the Christian tradition hundreds of years after the life of the person the religion is associated with, and various contemporary churches, religions, and cults whose ideologies are shifting and being shaped now, right before our eyes, just as Christianity was being shaped in culture and time seventeen or eighteen hundred years ago.
My assumption is if most Christians knew how their bible was put together, when it was written, by whom, how it was edited and reconstructed, what was left out, what was added, and how many hundreds of years after the fact, it would have a profound impact on their system of belief, if not on their awareness of their own psychology and human thinking in general.
Once you know the chronology of the gospels, who wrote them, when and why, as well as the impact of Constantine on shaping what is now considered the basic tenants of the church, the entire enterprise ceases to serve as anything more than a testament to human imagination, an object lesson in the misinterpretations of time amplified through a need to believe in something beyond the shit and piss and hope and love that fill our daily lives.
Once you’re on this side of it, I’m afraid, the entire enterprise seems, to go back to Bill Maher, ridiculous. Just as, I assume, Mormonism, Scientology, Greek and Roman Mythology seem ridiculous — and in some cases dangerous (to reason and ability) — to contemporary Christians.
So, Andrew, long story short, that is how I, and, I assume, most Atheists see it: Christianity, and all world religions, are, at best, an abstract (and meaningless) amplification of a human need for context and hope, or at worst, a mindless intellect-stealing vacuum into which most human psychological intelligence is poured, robbing otherwise beautiful and wonderful and intelligent human beings of the essence and potential of what makes them ultimately the most valuable and human.
Finally, in an effort to move from the pedantic to the observational: I grew up in the summers at an Episcopal Church camp. It is no exaggeration to say it saved my life. We took care of each other, we bonded, we had each other’s backs, we leaned on one another. The people I knew there are in real and meaningful ways still a major part of my life.
As we have all gotten older I have seen two distinct groups form from this experience: those who believe the structures of the church and its teachings were responsible for this level of love caring and commitment to each other, and those who saw it as a byproduct of the people who were there, the friendships and human relationships that evolved and developed. The former group has become more entrenched in the church, become more fundamentalist, believe more in the politics and ideology. The latter group has, for the most part, left behind the trappings of the church, explored the world openly, and continued to evolve.
To put it as bluntly as I can, I have never seen a deeper involvement in the church enhance anyone’s intellect or spirituality (however one chooses to interpret that). In short, to the people I love and care about, the spiritual awakening of Atheism has beaten the hell out of anything we experienced as Christians. Or to put it another way, nothing was lost, everything got better.
So, I’ll leave it then at that, for whatever it is worth, in answer to your question, Andrew, and as a friend who has great faith in your intellect and spirit.
I’ll tell you what. I definitely take Bill Maher seriously. There are things he’s super right about. Like closeted non-religious politicians. And the shit food we eat in this country. And the way that marriage is probably an outmoded idea that we, as a society, would do well to move away from. And the fact that people should at least think before blindly getting vaccinated (though I fear that his saying things like that leads people to just blindly not get vaccinated, which defeats the whole point).
But stuff like that is why I was so disappointed with Religulous. The, sort of, I dunno, Borat influence that’s evident in that movie dampens the point it’s trying to make. Which is unfortunate.
This is exactly the sort of thing that gives me pause about most of the (at all) religious or spiritual people I know. There’s a sort of strong-willed lack of curiosity about it that I can’t handle. A kind of not-wanting-to-know-how-the-sausage-is-made sort of thing. And I understand why that’s the case. But it’s difficult to take that kind of thinking seriously, ya know? And there are people who I’m very close to that I’m talking about here.
The two questions that no one has ever answered for me here are these:
1. After any sort of intellectual examination of these things, how is there anyone who can claim to know (or even have faith in their explanation of) what’s really going on at the heart of everything?
2. What difference does that answer really make?
And I say this stuff as a person who’s pretty sure he once pissed you off by saying a thing about religion on Twitter, Andrew. But I think you maybe misunderstood what I was getting at. But, bygones and such.
(‘That answer’ being to the question about what’s really going on at the heart of everything. Not the answer to my #1. In case there’s that confusion. And in case I haven’t further confused things by adding this.)
Christianity in the United States of America is really something entirely different, almost a different religion to the Christianity that is practised in Europe. And so much more divisive. The focus in the US also seems to be much more on literal belief and not so much on devotion and meditation, but then again, when I go to the occasional church service (I go to sung services sometimes in very old cathedrals with long choral traditions, it’s some of the finest music to be heard anywhere) I am struck by both the sheer preposterousness of the stories as taken literally (as they usually are) and also by the fantastic interestingness of the stories themselves if you glimpse and investigate what might lie underneath the dogma.
But I’m struck by something you suggested in your comment, Andrew. And my tuppence worth is that I don’t actually see any contradiction at all between rationale and intuition: they exist as complementary and necessary forces within the human mind and spirit, and the only problem that I can see in all that is when someone insists that one outweighs the other in importance. However, for me there is a large distinction between intuition and superstition. A deep topic.
And Deron: your point about the politics and history of the gospels is a topic I think about every time I am at any kind of Christian service. That alone is such a source of interest, and has clearly clearly informed how the stories about Jesus Christ have been assembled. It’s so interesting, and you’d be hard pushed to find a less curious bunch of humans than those listening to readings at any Christian service, anywhere.
Andrew
I count myself in your camp on this topic. I suspect there are a great number of us who find ourselves somewhere in the middle perhaps where, as Lucy mentions, the rationale and intuition are…I’ll use the word “balanced.” I suppose it makes my porridge “just right,” if a little boring.
It is easy not to be on the side of crazy uneducated bible thumping truck-drivin’, christians. For me it is just as easy not to be on the side of Bill Maher whom I find to be just a little too self-absorbed to really be able pull off a truly insightful interview. He asks questions merely to goad–he has no interest in the answer other than to turn it into a one-liner to belittle or ridicule the person he has asked.
In the end, even though I’m taking time to offer my lame two-cents, now. This isn’t a topic I discuss much with anyone, it is far too personal. It feels like I know something, but at the end of any discussion I’ve allowed myself to get caught in, I still don’t know what it feels like I know.
For the record, I just now almost deleted this rather than post it.
“When I go to church, am I liable for every monstrous thing every denomination has ever done in the name of Jesus?”
No, but you are liable for every monstrous thing YOUR denomination has ever done in the name of Jesus. You do not belong to a race, you have literally chosen to be part of your denomination and so you implicitly associate yourself with all others who also subscribe your religious views.
Stop thinking of your religion as a race and see it as an ideology then you might understand that it is very much appropriate for every Catholic/Nazi/Nihilist/Anarchist to be tarred with the same brush as their associates.
I hope I’ve added something useful to the debate, Daryl pretty much nailed it right off the bat.
“No, but you are liable for every monstrous thing YOUR denomination has ever done in the name of Jesus.”
Makes me shudder. They killed people in vehement defence of that idea up north here on this island.
I was thinking the same thing, Lucy.
However, it is precisely for that reason I am deeply embarrassed of racism in the US and go to great lengths to be as kind, understanding, and unpatronizing as possible to those who have experienced it.
Gosh. I’m gonna be honest. I did not read this whole comment thread but I’m gonna comment any-darn-how.
I don’t tell people I’m an atheist unless I am directly asked or someone incorrectly and directly assumes otherwise, based on their words or actions. It’s a bit like being gay (although that gets hairier now that I have a lady companion). In a way, I guess I experience a feeling similar to what the article describes. Do I have to bear the guilt of every monstrous thing done in the name of atheism? That’s a hard question to take seriously. There’s still some pretty strong animosity toward avowed atheists. Why? What is it that I have done, aside from take a different stance on the existence of gods? Is it because of some other people who share this particular viewpoint are assholes?
In short, and without trying to dilute your message, I don’t think anyone ever tried to bar an elected official from taking office because he is a Chrisitan. Not lately, anyhow.