My Deconversion Story

This is the story of my deconversion from Christianity. I originally posted this account on the Forum of the blog "Unreasonable Faith". I hope you'll enjoy it.

I have been raised as a Christian, having attended services for most of my life at a small ELCA Lutheran congregation. I was baptized as a baby, and I was confirmed around the time I entered high school. I attended Sunday school, Bible studies, and church camps. I sang in the choir and I was an acolyte, usher, and greeter.

However, despite my active involvement in the church, I had not thought much about the basic essentials of my beliefs. I had read large portions of the Bible (I still haven't gotten myself to read it all - I've been meaning to do it), and I prayed often, but while I grew up, I was never confronted by any serious challenges to my perspective. I had friends who went to other churches, but I didn't really know anyone who was non-religious. I had this default assumption that there was a God, and that most of things I had been told in church were true.

I was never really one to question authority, and I enjoyed church greatly, and I had a lot of friends there at first. I wish I had a higher voice so I could sing "I Wander As I Wonder" in the proper key. That hymn is eerie, and that is why it was always one of my favorites.

Many things happened to me when I was in junior high and high school. Several rifts developed in my church, attendance lowered, and we had some pastoral changes. I also first learned that some of my friends were atheists or agnostics. It actually shocked me at first -- I grew in a fairly conservative community. Every time I drive on the highway, I spy a large billboard which declares "Trust In The LORD With All Your Heart". I thought to myself, 'atheist?! I don't believe that.'

But I didn't really know them that well, so I shrugged it off.

When I was a junior in high school, one of my closer friends let me know that he is an atheist when we were discussing religion. I started debating (casually) with him and his friends about religion during our study hall period. I was the Christian, and there were two others who were atheists.

Some of the questions he asked made me reflect for a bit, but I wasn't very phased. I didn't have a literal interpretation of the Bible, and I accepted evolution, so we actually agreed on a lot. I wasn't affected by a lot of the arguments he used in the areas that we agreed. However, looking back on the experience, I think if my friends had spent more time on how those points specifically apply to religion, I would've been more receptive. But I also realize that they didn't want to push me too hard, because we were friends, and they didn't want to ruin our friendship, which I also appreciate and understand.

He did ask me why God would create homosexuality and condemn it in the Bible? I didn't know - I was unsure. I didn't think he would. My friend referenced Leviticus, and I pretty much ignored it, I have to admit. I could've been more open-minded.

He also wanted to know if I didn't take the Bible literally, how did I *know* which parts were metaphorical and which were not? I gave an answer I had already heard, that the Holy Spirit guides the believer in the interpretation of the Bible. If I were my friend now, I would've emphasized the divisions in church history. I do remember that my friend emphasized the corruption of certain church leaders, but I always brushed these criticisms away by saying that God's church was for imperfect people, as everything human in this world was imperfect. Maybe I would've been more receptive if he had argued specifically that the existence of so many divisions on interpretation and meaning of scriptures, which accord with cultural practices, makes it supremely unlikely that the texts are divinely inspired. However, that is a complicated argument and hard to fit into a 25-minute study hall period, and I know that when atheists talk to Christians, the harder they argue, the more militant or harsh they seem. I know this can be the case, so I can again understand why my friend didn't press me harder, and I do appreciate his willingness to put our friendship ahead of mere ideological differences.

When I was a senior, my English teacher exposed me to existentialism - I started reading Camus and Sartre. However, I maintained that this was fully compatible with my Christianity, and in retrospective, I don't think that this was a contributing factor to my deconversion.

I also began reading a lot of Vonnegut when I was in high school. I read Player Piano, Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse Five, and Slapstick. Those are all excellent, and I also read Vonnegut's brief essay autobiography, the title of which I cannot recall. I <3 Billy Pilgrim! But I hated the ending of Cat's Cradle - I despised it. It was so irredeemably depressing and gloomy. Somehow, Slapstick was the most amusing and intriguing book of the four, though it seems to be the least popular and the least well-known. There are many excerpts about tribal and community ties which really hit home what it means to be part of a group of people with the same feelings and the same beliefs. I think that book did lay some of the groundwork for my later epiphanies.

Finally, last year I was a freshmen in college. The summer before I left, I had to arrange a schedule of coursework. I was trying to fill my schedule with general education requirement classes, and I wanted to take World Politics very badly. Instead, my counselor stuck me with Forms of the Sacred, a class on Eastern religion. This would prove to be quite fateful.

The second or third week of school, we also had an activities fair. I was out walking after lunch one day, and I strolled along the path in the main common area to visit the booths for all of the clubs on campus.

I spied a banner for a non-religious group. Intrigued, I stumbled over to the display, and asked the volunteer about the nature of the club. I was told that this was a new club for discussing religion, which would primarily be focused on atheists and agnostics. Since I had discussed religion with my friends in high school, I added my information to the mailing so I could stay in contact with the club.

So two or three weeks afterward, I am sitting in my religion class, nonchalantly scribbling notes. We're talking Hinduism, and my professor is going off on a tangent. My ears perked up. The tangents were what made that class - I loved my professor's sense of humor and offbeat commentary.

So anyway, he's talking about all of the different religions in the East, and how they relate, and he casually lets out that some scholars speculated that there might be a link between the proto-religions of the East and some of the western religions. Normally, that would just be an interesting tidbit, a typically inane musing which may fascinate those students who are paying attention.

But that careless slight, that unintended observation -- it struck me. I really had an existential crisis. I felt a surge of doubt paralyze me at that very moment; thoughts of "what if this (my beliefs that I had grown up with) isn't true??!!"

"What if this isn't true?!"

Doubt. I was struck by doubt. Nagging, overwhelming, unceasing, terrifying doubt.

I suddenly realized that I had no idea why I believed what I did.

That was the beginning - that was the day I quit believing in "faith".

And of course, one of the first ever meetings of the atheists and agnostics organization was scheduled later that very week. So I went, not knowing what would happen. All I knew was uncertainty.

So I went. The chairs were arranged in a circular fashion. One of the first things that occurred, since everyone was just getting to know each other, was that each individual in the circle was supposed to say a little bit about themselves: what year they were in, where they were from, something cool about themselves, and if they were an atheist or agnostic, when they became one.

I was one of the last people to be reached, so I got to hear almost everyone else's accounts first.

I was quite nervous at that moment, I must admit. I really didn't know what to say -- I hadn't really reached out to anyone by that point. When I first told my Catholic roommate that I was going to go to the meeting, he looked at me with suspicion because I had already told him that summer that I was a Christian. I told him that I was a Christian, but that I was going anyway because I was interested in the group.

It was sort of a fib. I wasn't sure anymore if I was a Christian or not, because of the doubt that I was experiencing at that time.

Finally, it was my turn to speak. I related my year, where I was from, my hobbies, and my name. Then I stammered something like this:

"Well, I'm not really sure what I believe right now. I was raised as a Christian, but since I've gone to college..."

My brain fizzled. What was I going to say?

"I think my faith has..."

I couldn't say anymore, but I took my hand and made a downwards motion.

In the days before the meeting, I had begun to do some additional research about religion, and I continued this after I returned from the meeting.

Every time I examined my old beliefs, they made less and less sense to me.

The Bible seemed incomprehensible to me. I started asking a lot more questions about it that I couldn't answer. The evidence for a historical Jesus who did the things the Bible claimed was less than I would have liked to believe (I had never actually thought about whether he actually had existed and did the things the Gospels said he did.) It seemed there was too much cruelty and suffering in the world. Evolution and naturalism seemed to be performing spectacularly. Christianity was failing miserably. Everywhere I turned, it appeared that the answer could be better explained if there were no all-good, all-loving, interventionary god.

Finally, there was one particular area that seemed to be the nail in the coffin for my prior religious beliefs.

All the other religions in the world. I had heard Krishna call for grace - I had heard Buddha call for compassion in the wake of suffering - I had heard creation stories which sounded more plausible than the ones I heard growing up. "There was a time when there was neither nothing, nor something". That's a real creation story.

Frankly, Christianity became just another religion, just another faith, and just another mythology. People who believed in other religions seemed to be just as moral as Christians. People who were Christian based their moral ideas on the same principles that non-Christian people used.

And almost all of the so-called religious experiences claimed were more similar than they were different, no matter what the religion.

I remember reading of Near Death Experiences where Native Americans saw a vision of a great chief, where some Hindus saw a great bureaucracy in the sky, and Christians saw heaven and hell.

And even if that weren't enough, I began reading about neuroscience. I became convinced that there is no such entity as the soul. If I needed yet another nail in the coffin, that was definitely it.

The experiments demonstrate that when the brain is harmed, all of the things which have traditionally been identified with the soul are damaged.

What is the soul? Isn't the soul the essence of who you are? And what is the essence of who you are? When the brain is damaged, the essence of who you are changes irrevocably. So when the brain is damaged, is your soul damaged, or is your soul the brain? But we know what happens to the brain when you die -- it rots. So much for the after-life? How can you have a soul to be judged without the brain? It's not plausible.

Lastly, I was already an agnostic atheist for many months before I read "The Evolution of God", but it really cemented many of the conclusions which I had already reached. The evidence which emerges from the sections about political influences on the Old Testament, why the Israelites came out of Canaan and not out of Egypt, and why Paul sold Christianity the way he did in the days of the early faith really make it difficult for me to revert to Christianity or any religion similar to it.

I am an agnostic atheist. I believe that most, if not all, of the gods ever worshiped by humanity are implausible. I do not know if there are ultimately any gods or higher powers. However, I live as if there are none.

Even if there are gods or higher powers in or outside of the universe, I believe that I am living more deeply in communion with them by not adopting a set of beliefs which I am 99% sure are false, and by trying my best to live a moral life based on empathy and respect.

I know that I have prattled on at great length, but I thank all of you for sharing in my journey and my experiences. Thank you.

Is Faith More Reliable Than Science?

“Science is not only less reliable than faith, but faith is used in science."

Did I miss the science Crusades, the science Thirty Years War, or the science Spanish Inquisition?

How reliable is your faith, exactly? Are you a Christian? If so, what kind of Christian are you?

If you’re a Catholic, you may believe that your god directly revealed himself to a line of men who frequently embodied corruption, nepotism, and hypocrisy.

If you’re a Protestant, you’re already admitting that your faith is not 100% reliable, because why would there need to be a Reformation if faith is generally reliable?

If you’re Orthodox, how do you explain the abundance of Protestants and Catholics if faith is so reliable?

If you’re any kind of Christian, then how do you explain the plentiful and confusing abundance of contradicting interpretations of the same exact sacred texts?

If you're a Muslim, which tradition do you adhere to? How do you explain the existence and persistence of other sects? Why is your faith so fragile? Your holy book is even written in the same universal language, and you still have many of the same problems as the Christians.

You think faith is reliable? The wise walk by sight, not by faith.

An Indifferent Universe: The Original 'Original Sin'

Here's a thought experiment:

"Sin is the fault of humanity, but it had to be that way, and fortunately, we still have free will.

How do I know this to be true?

Well, for hundreds of millions of years, various animals and plants endured enormous levels of suffering before humanity existed. So it is difficult to claim that the direct actions of humanity are responsible for suffering in our world. However, one could say that suffering was predetermined for humanity. Essentially, it must then be our fault that the suffering of the world was predetermined for us. So everything's our fault (even if it's not), and we still have free will (even if we don't). Christianity makes complete sense."

Obviously, I'm being sarcastic here.

We can now determine that there was never a Paradise - that there was never an Eden - and that the "original sin" of humanity is merely our own existence in an indifferent universe. Sure, Christian tradition can try to pin the blame on a species which only arrived on Earth during the most recent instant of geologic time, but the growing evidence across nearly all disciplines of science can easily refute such a bold and unsupported assertion.

How can I prove that the only reason a god would permit evil is to bring about some other end? How can I know that this is not the only possible world that it is feasible for a god to create? I most likely cannot fully prove either of these things to you; what I may be able to demonstrate adequately is the incoherence of Christian dogma when its doctrines are contrasted with the harsh, vivid realities of our existence.

A Memorandum to God (Part One)

MEMORANDUM

DATE: ∞

TO: God

FROM: Teleprompter

SUBJECT: Doubt

I hope you are well, whoever or wherever you may be. My friends and family have urged me to contact you over some pressing issues I have encountered. I hope that I am not wasting your time. Here are some of my questions for you:

1. "Your followers call you the judge of the world. You are expected to love justice and fair play. You’re expected to loath all ill treatment of one person by another. A corrupt judge who has no interest in seeing right triumph over wrong is, by biblical standards, a monstrosity.

Moreover, a judge who is found to be living a double life–one condemning criminals and one condoning his own crimes–deserves no such respect, honor or admiration."

- paraphrased from statements made by Demian Farnworth, Christian apologist

So why do you allow so much injustice in your name? Why have you allowed your followers to mistreat women, gays and minorities? Why do you allow wholesale slaughter of tribes with differing theological views?

Why do you condemn those who murder in the Ten Commandments yet simultaneously order the genocide of thousands at Sihon (Deuteronomy 2:34), Bashan (Deuteronomy 3:3), Jericho (Joshua 6:21), Ai (Joshua 8:2), Libnah (Joshua 10:30), Lachish (Joshua 10:32), Eglon (Joshua 10:35), Hebron (Joshua 10:37), Debir (Joshua 10:39), the Negev (Joshua 10:40), and the northern royal cities (Joshua 11:14)? Why did you allow the destruction of the Anakites (Joshua 11:21-22)? Why did you order the total decimation of the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizites, Hivites, and Jebusites (Deuteronomy 7:1-2)?

Why did you harden the hearts of the kings of some of these cities so that you could wage war against them so that your followers “might destroy them totally, exterminating them without mercy” according to your commands (Joshua 11:21)?

(NOTE: this project is an ongoing series; I will devote each installment to a new question; once again, thanks for your participation!)

(SECOND NOTE: part of the opening section to this essay is a paraphrase of commentary written by Demian Farnworth on his blog Fallen and Flawed; you can read the essay in which his statements originally appeared here. The paraphrase was borrowed for rhetorical comparison.)

Encounter with a Proselytizer (Part Two)

I apologize for the length of time which has elapsed since Part One. Thank you for waiting!

I received a phone call when I was at home several days later from the pastor of the church which handed me the brochure about Jesus.

I struggled to think of something coherent to say to the preacher on the other end of the line. Here I was, talking to him directly. What was I going to say? Was I going to make a fool of myself?

I told the pastor that I had been handed the glossy bulletin, that I had read it, and that I decided to call the included number to discuss some questions I had about the information in the brochure.

For my first question I stammered, "What does your church think about the Bible?"

He relayed to me the teachings on Biblical inerrancy: that everything in the Bible is truth, and that the Bible is internally consistent. The preacher also mentioned that his church exclusively uses the King James Version of the Bible.

I asked him why the church uses the King James Version? He replied that the King James Version used direct translation from the "original" languages of the Bible. I did not proceed further with this because I am not knowledgeable enough about the history of the Biblical documents to contend with his claims.

Another angle which my conversant preacher had emphasized about the Bible was that it contains God's messages. It was given to humans, but God had written it ahead of time, so the Bible was God's perfect word to humanity.

I decided to ask the pastor about certain tenets of Biblical morality. I discussed certain acts of genocide and crime in the world today: Serbia/Kosovo, Rwanda, etc.

Did he agree that these acts were wrong? Yes, he did.

I then cited the book of Joshua: the slaughter of the various tribes of Canaan whom the Israelites supposedly displaced.

If the Bible condones an act of terror that we agree is untenable, then why should I follow its teachings as a moral guide?

The preacher directly informed me that the slaughter of these peoples was really the work of God, not the Israelites, and that they were really evil, anyway.

I asked the pastor, "If God told you to murder someone, would you do it?"

He retorted that he would never murder someone, but if God murdered someone, he would understand why God did it.

Just as God slaughtered many of the Canaanites for their immoral ways, God could similarly "send judgment" to many Americans today for the current state of our immoral society.

But the bottom line, the preacher reasserted, is that Jesus saved us, and God sent the Bible to us. The real important point is whether I believe that or not.

"Do you believe in God?" he stated sharply.

"I don't know," I answered.

"You don't know? But the Bible is God's Word!" the pastor responded. "This book talks about Jesus and why he came, so Jesus was either telling the truth or he was a liar. Do you believe what the Bible says about Jesus?"

"What if the people who wrote the Bible made up the stuff that Jesus said?" I inquired.

(My query was ignored and previous assertions were repeated.)

"How can you not believe the Bible?" he asked incredulously. "It contains the words of Jesus. Do you believe them?"

"I could write a book about President Obama and say that he said something, but that doesn't mean he said it," I retorted.

My acquaintance was not amused by that comment. He abruptly ended the conversation.

"Look, if you don't understand this about the Bible, I can't even talk to you."

I thanked the preacher for the discussion, and hung up the phone.

Maybe I should've used some other analogy besides Barack Obama...my second thought was Harry Potter...never mind.

Some conversations are doomed to futility.

Encounter with a Proselytizer (Part One)

I was working in the sun last week, trying to finish pulling weeds from my neighbors' lawn before the start of a thunderstorm, when a man came up to me and started a conversation.

"Hi there, I see you are a Reds fan, too?"

I was sporting a Cincinnati Reds baseball caps. In fact, I do happen to root for the Redlegs. Last summer, I was fortunate enough to catch Jay Bruce's debut against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

The man introduced himself - let's call him "Jim" - and he said that he lived down the street. He told about his experiences as a young Reds fan growing up in Cincinnati during the era of the Big Red Machine - when Pete Rose, Davey Concepcion, and Johnny Bench proudly strode the environs of Crosley Field.

It was a normal conversation until the man pulled a brochure from his pocket and handed it to me - that's when the realization struck, that he was proselytizing me.

He stated that he didn't know if I had a church home, but let me know that I was welcome to attend his Baptist church. I thanked the neighbor, and stuffed the bulletin into my pants' pocket, eager to finish my work before the rain came down.

I didn't want to harass him about religion - being a former Christian, I know what nerves it takes to talk to a stranger about your church. Anyway, he wasn't too pushy, so I was willing to give him some leeway. I thought that it would be rude to argue with this guy on the street.

After I drove home and put my equipment away, I opened the brochure and inspected its contents. It contained a somewhat typical message about sin and Jesus, redemption and the wages of death. Pretty standard stuff - things I would've heard about, if I had still been in the church I had attended for the previous 18 years.

Then I spied a phone number, denoted with the following inscription:

"Have any questions about the Bible? We'd love to hear from you!"

Being the curious kind of guy that I am, I punched the church's number into my cell phone. I had to leave a message - I let it be known that I had received a tract and that I had some questions about its contents. I asked if it was possible that someone could call me back and that I could speak with someone about the brochure.

That was about a week ago. For a description of what happened when my call from the church was returned yesterday, please wait for (Part Two). Thanks!

Does the Euthyphro Dilemma Argue For Theism? (Part Two)

Marc Schooley, author of the The Areopagus, (who also comments as MS Quixote) argues adamantly in a post on his blog that the Euthyphro Dilemma advances theism. MS Quixote referenced this argument during a discussion on the reasons why people are theists or atheists at the blog Daylight Atheism.

I intend to present a comprehensive case as to why the Euthyphro Dilemma advances atheism, but to do this, I must substantively and seriously address the reasons given by MS Quixote as to why he believes the Euthyphro Dilemma advances theism. This is my goal, and I intend to demonstrate my case thoroughly and convincingly.

This is my second post which analyzes MS Quixote's argument for why the Euthyphro Dilemma advances theism rather than atheism.

Last time, I explained my assertion that one cannot avoid the ED by positing that the paradigm of goodness is embedded in God's nature:

The first philosophic move of the theist is to pass through the horns of the ED by locating the Good as the nature of God. In effect, the theist answers the dilemma by saying “neither.” Hence, the theist claims that the good is not independent of God, as posited by horn one, nor is the good commanded by God, as claimed by horn two. In effect, a tertium quid is presented: God’s nature is the paradigm of goodness. God’s nature is the good...Note, the theist objection does not say that God’s nature is good; it says that God’s nature is the good.

(The emphasis on the final sentence of that quote is solely mine.)

MS Quixote tries to argue that the paradigm of goodness is embedded in God's nature; but he is simultaneously arguing that God's nature is "the good" rather than good. So he seems to be arguing that there is, in fact, no way to tell whether the paradigm of goodness really is, in and of itself, actually good.

Let's try to use your argument for a thought experiment:

Goodness is embedded in God's nature necessarily, since God is the paradigm of goodness. God's standard for goodness is not a coherent concept - because God is the standard. But why is God good? Because he is; it's a brute fact of existence - deal with it. But what if God's nature was malevolent: if God's nature is the paradigm of goodness, and God's nature is malevolent, then is malevolence actually goodness? God could've been anything, but he just is good. We just got lucky that he isn't apathetic or malevolent or bipolar. God's the standard for goodness because he is - through God, all things are. We know God is good because all things are patterned from him - we can tell that all things are patterned from God's goodness, we can tell that he is the ultimate paradigm, because that's just exactly the kind of world we seem to inhabit:

No random, indiscriminate earthquakes, volcano eruptions, mudslides, or tsunamis,

No rampant diseases such as polio, typhoid, smallpox, or the Black Plague,

Just goodness. We know God is good because that's just the way the world works.

You want evidence, you say? You want to know if this assertion really means something?

Just examine the world around you. Then you'll know.

Why do we really say that God is the paradigm of goodness? Why do we really believe in a maximally great being?

Perhaps it's comforting. Perhaps it's disorienting to believe that we are here on this planet, in the middle of this universe, lacking guidance, lacking care, and lacking supervision.

Perhaps that was the best explanation we had at one time. Perhaps it helps us derive meaning from our existence. Perhaps we feel that it keeps us in touch with the traditions of our families and our communities.

It doesn't mean anything to say that any God is the paradigm of goodness if we refuse to define a standard for goodness. So you say that God is the standard? Fine, judge God by his handiwork, if that's what you believe.

God is "the good", you say. God is "maximally great", you say. How do you know?, I say.

Do you know that God's nature is the paradigm of goodness because it is good, or do you know that God's nature is the paradigm of goodness because it is his nature, by fiat?

If you know that God's nature is the paradigm of goodness because of some outside standard, then your God is inferior to that standard. If you know that God's nature is the paradigm of goodness because it is - by fiat - then you've admitted that you have no basis for interpreting God's nature as "good" or "evil".

Whatever God's nature becomes (or rather, what it has become) is the good; whatever it does not become (or rather, what it has not become) is not the good. As a consequence, you have absolutely no idea what the good resultant from God's nature should be, nor what it is, nor what it means.

Anyone can say, "this comes from God, it must be the good!"

"Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you believe atrocities." - Voltaire

Does the Euthyphro Dilemma Argue For Theism? (Part One)

Marc Schooley, author of the The Areopagus, (who also comments as MS Quixote) argues adamantly in a post on his blog that the Euthyphro Dilemma advances theism. MS Quixote referenced this argument during a discussion on the reasons why people are theists or atheists at the blog Daylight Atheism.

I intend to present a comprehensive case as to why the Euthyphro Dilemma advances atheism, but to do this, I must substantively and seriously address the reasons given by MS Quixote as to why he believes the Euthyphro Dilemma advances theism. This is my goal, and I intend to demonstrate my case thoroughly and convincingly.

First, I must commend MS Quixote for his well-written and well-argued critique of ED. I recommend his summary of ED and the surrounding controversies to anyone who desires to obtain a solid understanding of what exactly the dilemma is, and what is meant by it, when both theists and atheists refer to it.

Because MS Quixote has done such an excellent job covering the historic origins of the Euthyphro Dilemma and the traditional use of ED by atheists, I will not delve into those sections of his essay here. I hope that my readers of this entry will already have some knowledge of the dilemma, and if they don't, I recommend MS Quixote's summary of it, because he does a much better job of summarizing it then I could have done.

Let's cut right to the meat of this discussion: Quixote's critiques of the dilemma.

MS Quixote asserts that:

Another nemesis of the dilemma is the tertium quid, the third option. If a viable third option is presented, the dilemma is rightly deemed a false dilemma. The dilemmas above appear to be true dilemmas; there do not appear to be other alternatives to dead/alive and pregnant/not pregnant. However, if a dilemma states that children like either football or baseball, it is rather simple to provide other options, say, basketball. Thus, the dilemma is defeated. This is commonly referred to as “passing through the horns of the dilemma.”

Lastly, one may “grasp the horns of the dilemma.” If it may be shown that one or both of the premises of a dilemma is false, the dilemma is successfully defeated. With ED, the theist is able to both pass through the horns and grasp them.

So, is the theist really able to both pass through the horns of the Euthyphro Dilemma and grasp them? This is the bedrock of MS Quixote's argument: if I cannot demonstrate that his arguments (which purport to demonstrate that the theist can pass through and grasp the horns of the ED) are invalid, then I cannot state that MS Quixote is incorrect when he claims that the ED argues for theism rather than atheism.

MS Quixote's first step is to demonstrate that the Euthyphro Dilemma is, in fact, a false dilemma, by presenting a viable alternative, a third option, in addition to the two horns of the Dilemma as summarized:

The first horn of the dilemma—Is good willed by God because it is good—locates the good independently of God. The good is conceived of as some standard or other that God recognizes in determining what is good. If this state of affairs obtains, God is subservient to standard independent of his eternal being; there is at least one entity He is not sovereign over. Moreover, he becomes the mere messenger of goodness. Admittedly, this position is untenable for Christian theists.

The second horn of the dilemma—or is it good because it is willed by God—tends to render the commands of God arbitrary. The ED proponent argues with this horn that God could have just as well commanded rape and murder as goods, and that they are evils is only at the whim of God’s command. Furthermore, under the second horn, often referred to as Divine Command Ethics (DCT), it is difficult to make informative claims about Gods goodness, if goodness is solely based upon what God says it is. What does it then mean to say that God is good?

While acknowledging that both horns of the original dilemma are untenable for Christianity, MS Quixote presents his third option:

The first philosophic move of the theist is to pass through the horns of the ED by locating the Good as the nature of God. In effect, the theist answers the dilemma by saying “neither.” Hence, the theist claims that the good is not independent of God, as posited by horn one, nor is the good commanded by God, as claimed by horn two. In effect, a tertium quid is presented: God’s nature is the paradigm of goodness. God’s nature is the good.

Ah ha, the ED is clearly bunk, then! So we're finished, right?

Not necessarily.

As MS Quixote aptly recognizes, many proponents of the Euthyphro Dilemma are not prepared to accept this alternative as an answer to the dilemma. In fact, these critics argue that this framing only moves the dilemma one step farther back:

ED is re-erected around the theist’s contention that God’s nature is the good: Is God’s goodness good in relation to some independent standard, or it is good because God’s character is good? The former presents the same problem as the first horn of the original dilemma, the latter, the same problem as the second horn of the original dilemma which again seems arbitrary or whimsical. After all, God’s character could have been anything.

MS Quixote responds that those critics who reply to his offered alternative with this response fail to understand exactly what he really means with his third option:

Theists generally consider the reformulation of the dilemma a clear indicator that the ED supporter has misunderstood the theist contention that God’s nature is the good. Note, the theist objection does not say that God’s nature is good; it says that God’s nature is the good.

The ED supporter has attempted to establish an infinite regress with the reformulation of the dilemma; however, the theist response precludes this outcome by positing God’s nature as a metaphysical ultimate, a brute fact of existence. Brute facts are explanatory propositions that require or admit no explanation themselves.

So God's goodness is a brute fact of existence. But wait, God's nature isn't good; it is the good, according to MS Quixote.

So how we can call God "good" if we have no standard for what is "good"? If "the good" is defined as God's nature, then anything that is God's nature is "the good". But God could be entirely malevolent, and since it is his nature, then complete malevolence is "the good". For who are the pots to question the potter? God can smash all of them if he wants, err, if that's his nature.

And why not? What's preventing God from being completely malevolent? And how do we know that if there is a God, that he isn't entirely malevolent? If God's nature is "the good", and we cannot define "the good" apart from God's nature, then how can we ascribe any qualities at all to this nebulous concept known as "the good"?

If we agree with MS Quixote's definition of "the good", then we now have no coherent standard for whether something is good or evil. In fact, good and evil become meaningless and obsolete; things are either part of "the good" or they are not part of "the good". God's nature defines what is "the good". And those who speak in the name of God get to define what is God's nature!

"Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

A Quick Reminder and an Announcement

Hello readers!

Later today, I am going to complete the final Part 4 of my four-part series analyzing Demian Farnworth's list of claimed prophecies of Jesus.

This week, I will be purchasing The Evolution of God by Robert Wright.

I recommend reading the Amazon customer review penned by John W. Loftus for a clear and concise summary of the book's contents.

I will review each chapter of The Evolution of God on this blog.

My reviews will be an ongoing feature of this blog until (and probably some time after) I finish the book.

I wanted to inform all of you of what is in the works for my blog, and if there are any more interesting developments, you'll be the first to know! Thanks for reading, and thanks for all of your interactions in the comments section, and for all you do.

If you have any other questions, please drop me a line in the comments. Thank you!

"Considering the Bible and Christianity Without A Prior God Belief Is Meaningless"

"And, I concur; considering the Bible and Christianity without a prior God belief is meaningless."

Commenter MS Quixote raised this point in the midst of a discussion on the blog Daylight Atheism.

I have seen this point raised so many times that I feel it is necessary for me to address this point directly, once and for all, on record.

First, what exactly does it mean to consider the Bible and Christianity?

I state here that I am assuming that what I mean by "considering the Bible and Christianity" is that I am considering whether I believe the spiritual claims are true. If this can be said more precisely, please let me know how I can summarize this in a more accurate way.

I assume that MS Quixote wants to know if the claims of the Bible and Christianity are true, and that he assumes that other people want to know if the claims of the Bible and Christianity are true, and that this is what he means when he says "considering the Bible and Christianity".

I hope I have made correct assumptions in determining what each of us is trying to accomplish when we consider the Bible and Christianity, because those assumptions are fundamental to this exercise.

In the comments section of the original entry by MS Quixote, I noted that Muslims do approach the Bible and Christianity with a prior god belief, but they still have different god beliefs than Christians.

MS Quixote was gracious enough to recognize this, and amended his statement to say that one needs a Christian god belief before considering Christianity and the Bible in a meaningful way. At least, I hope this is what he meant to say, and that I have correctly stated his position.

In suggesting an experiment with MS Quixote's line of reasoning, I am providing the following counter-examples for comparison:

"And, I concur; considering the Qu'ran and Islam without a prior belief in Allah is meaningless."

"And, I concur; considering the Book of Mormon without a prior belief in the revelations of Joseph Smith is meaningless."

"And, I concur; considering the Bhagavad-Gita without a prior belief in Krishna is meaningless."

I wonder if MS Quixote would have any objections to these lines of reasoning if he encountered them in a discussion from a fellow theist, albeit one of a different belief system than his own?

If Christianity can be a properly basic belief, then can Hinduism also be a properly basic belief? Can Islam be a properly basic belief? What about Mormonism?

According to the basic tenets of these religions, not all of them can be true. Therefore, if one can say that the followers of all of these religions have properly basic beliefs, one can say that out of a large number of the people who have properly basic beliefs, many of them have properly basic beliefs that are wrong.

I believe that this circumstance should give anyone who defends religious belief with the notion of "properly basic belief" a moment of pause.

If a large number of people who have properly basic beliefs about a subject are wrong, then one should acknowledge that having a properly basic belief alone is not good enough as a standard for one to be confident of one's conclusions about a subject.

The idea that only consideration of Christianity with a prior belief in the Christian god can be meaningful does not account for the way human beings actually believe in things and acquire beliefs about the subject of religion. I have given counter-examples of patterns of belief in other religious belief systems to demonstrate where I believe that this argument is deficient.

Lastly, there are probably many areas where I have said something that is not as precise as it could be, or I have said something which is a mischaracterization or a misinterpretation, or I have not been clear enough in articulating my ideas. I openly acknowledge the possibility of errors, and if someone can identify them, I will gladly revise my statements. I freely admit that I am a relative novice in discussions of religion and philosophy, but I hope to learn as much as possible as I increase in experience and practice, and to continue a civil and productive discussion of belief and knowledge and "life, the universe, and everything".

Old Religion and New Atheism

Sam Harris. Richard Dawkins. Christopher Hitchens. Daniel Dennett.

A surge of criticism of religion's role in society and the nature of religious belief itself has arisen in the last several years.

Many critics have derisively termed the authors of these criticisms and their supports as "New Atheists".

What is the "New Atheism"? And why does anyone care? Is it a category which actually is meaningful and significant, or a rhetorical device used to reinforce pre-existing stereotypes and to shut down conversation about religion and humanity's interactions with religion, especially conversation which condemns religion?

Most people would agree that atheism is simply the lack of belief in gods.

However, this does not mean that there is not greater significance to the recent emphasis by atheists to increase visibility of our existence in the public sphere (of athiests) and also to increase exposure to religious criticism in the public sphere.

To determine why this is significant, let's examine what religion is. How do we define religion through the context of our own lives and in the context of our societies? How is this important, and why should anyone care?

Why should religion be criticized in public societies? Isn't religion just a personal choice, an expression of personal values? Why should atheists criticize other people's personal beliefs? Isn't this cruel and needless stigmatization?

Such an analysis of atheists' criticism of religion is sorely misguided and does not accurately characterize the intricate series of relationships between individuals, societies, and religions.

Religion is more than personal choice; it is more often a societal and even a political construct. Throughout human history, religion has been invoked as one of many ties which bind tribes, polities, and social categories of all kinds. With changes in leadership, have come changes in the religious practices encouraged and incentivized by the state.

As a belief, as a state (or states) of mind, and as a practice, religions are invariably linked with their respective cultures. Religion is not only a political experience, but a cultural one as well.

Without the context of our societies and the groups in which we associate, how would any of us resolve our identities as human beings in this modern age?

Some critics have charged that the "New Atheism" is overly politicized. Religion has always been politicized. Any criticism of religion is essentially a political criticism. Religion is just one more imagined community, constructed in the mold of the nation-state and the social club.

Religion is shot through with power and politicking. The Pope is elected. Ayatollahs control the nation of Iran. The ceremonial head of state in the United Kingdom is also the head of the Anglican church.

"New atheism" may not be a new message or a new strategy at all. However, the public campaign for increased critical thinking about religion and skepticism is a political fight.

Did the Ayatollahs descend from the heavens? Did Pope Benedict XVI come down from the Mount of Olives? Did Queen Elizabeth II's mother receive frankincense in the manger?

I personally believe that most atheists' criticism of religion is not a criticism of personal expression -- rather, I believe that it is a criticism of the social and political construct, the established order which is modern religion, which is in turn enabled by poor critical thinking and a deficit of skepticism.

Evolution and the God Hypotheses

Is evolution compatible with religious beliefs?

Perhaps -- it likely depends on the selection of religious belief under consideration.

Is evolution compatible with the existence of an omni-benevolent and all-knowing god?

I believe that it is highly improbable that these two things can coincide, though I cannot eliminate the possibility.

However, there is an intriguing implication for the belief that evolution is guided by a divine hand:

Almost all of the species which have ever lived are now extinct. Does this mean that a hypothetical god has failed? Or is a non-supernatural explanation more plausible?

Would an omni-benevolent god use the mechanism of natural selection to develop the diversity of life? Perhaps there is some utility in this high failure rate, but then one must consider the immense suffering which is implicit in this arrangement.

Competition -- vicious cycles of living and dying brutally -- a state where most animals not able to thrive, but only able to do enough to survive, does not seem like a product of either an all-knowing or an all-loving god.

Let's examine each distinct god hypothesis and decide whether the claims about the nature of gods are consistent with the realities of our existence.

I consider all claims of an interventionary divine being to be a hypothesis: if a god is said to interfere in the natural world, then we cannot simply shrug off difficult questions and deflect criticism with the excuse that such a god is beyond space and time. How can a god which is said to interfere with natural processes be strictly beyond space and time? The claims are not consistent.

Can the existence of gods be proven or disproven? In all likelihood, this is an impossible task. However, I do have every confidence that we can establish the probability or improbability of religious claims.

I believe that the claims of modern religions are extremely improbable in the context of the evidence which we currently have, and therefore I cannot accept them.

David Brooks, Kerosene Firefighter

David Brooks' editorial from April 7th's New York Times simply tries to do too many things.

Brooks is successful when he examines developments in psychology, but he falls on his face when he tries to extrapolate the broader implications he has presented in the first sections of the article.

Brooks is citing research which supports the hypothesis that human beings are not fundamentally rational actors.

He cites psychologist Jonathan Haidt's work, and I am definitely a fan of Haidt. I readily acknowedge Haidt's conclusions, but Brooks' interpretation is essentially a misrepresentation.

I would say I disagree with Brooks' interpretations, but this criticism goes beyond disagreement. Brooks is just wrong -- his assumptions are faulty and his logic is terrible. As if those travesties were not enough, while evaluating the consequences of Haidt's research, he also misses some of the most obvious and some of the most profound conclusions of all.

He attempts to present Haidt's conclusions as an atheist dilemma.

"It challenges the new atheists, who see themselves involved in a war of reason against faith and who have an unwarranted faith in the power of pure reason and in the purity of their own reasoning."

However, from the premise "reasoning comes later and is often guided by the emotions that preceded it", it does not logically follow that a pursuit of "pure reason" is ill-advised or illogical.

Brooks implies that we should combat irrationality with more irrationality.

That's like throwing lighter fluid instead of water on a burning building. It's a recipe for destruction.

Because we have realized that human beings are not rational actors, we should acknowledge the necessity of examining the basis for our decision-making as closely as possible. Because we acknowledge that humans have a propensity to make irrational decisions, then we must do everything we can to constantly reevaluate our own thought processes.

Brooks pontificates that "most people struggle toward goodness, not as a means, but as an end in itself". And what ends may we use to achieve goodness? Reason.

Much of organized religion is a stumbling block in this pursuit, which is one of the most important claims of the writings of Dawkins, Hitchens, and Harris.

People often make bad decisions precisely because emotion circumvents reasoning, and this is why reason is critically important to improving the quality of human life.

Pope Benedict XVI advised Africans that use of condoms increases AIDS. Because of this poorly reasoned, emotionally-stoked advice, people will die. People will die because the man formerly known as Joseph Ratzinger failed to properly examine the scientific and medical evidence, and instead relied on his intuitions to arrive at an important decision.

People will die because of this irrational advice. It won't be because Sam Harris or Richard Dawkins waged a war of "pure reason".

It is not when reason is overwhelmed by emotion that reason is unwarranted. Rather, it is just when people do not operate primarily by reason that a faith in reason is most warranted.

David Brooks, the kerosene firefighter, has it exactly backwards.

When Possibility Is Not Enough

It has been suggested that, having laughed at Christopher Columbus and Thomas Edison, we should not laugh at those who assert the possibility of the supernatural, because their claims may also be confirmed at some point in the future.

However, this vague notion of possibility is not enough to establish credibility for most religious claims, especially when the argument is not even fully honest.

There is a basic contradiction in this line of thinking: we must keep our minds open to all possibilities of future supernatural discovery, while simultaneously limiting our menu of choices to a select few ancient tribal narratives.

Because we know less than we may in the future, we should turn to those who knew far less than we do now? That's quite an absurd and confusing position to hold.

I hope that those who would assert this argument would not let themselves become entrenched in any specific supernatural position just because of cultural and traditional biases.

Can those who claim to be open-minded, who exhort others to be open-minded to the possibility of the supernatural, actually be open-minded in practice as they are in preaching?

It's possible.

Believing in Belief

I have interacted with many evangelical Christians over Internet blogs and forums. One common claim I have heard is that I was never really a Christian.

If you have read my story on this blog, you'll recall that I was raised as a Christian and deconverted because I decided that the evidence for its validity was severely lacking.

But was I an actual Christian? At first, this question annoyed me greatly. I believed that this claim was nonsensical and absurd at best, and that it was a stinging personal insult and rebuke at its worst.

However, I have now realized that the answer to this question is not entirely black and white. Of course, that conclusion alone should not surprise me. Few things in our existence are entirely black and white.

What shocked me is the realization that I may not have been an actual Christian before I deconverted.

I am trying to remember what exactly it was that I believed in during this time. Did I believe in a higher power? Did I believe in the Bible? Did I believe in the community of my church congregation? Did I believe in the power of faith or belief itself?

Why do these questions matter? These questions are critically important because they attempt to define what Christianity is, and in doing so attempt to determine what exactly it means to be a Christian (or to be a religious person of any persuasion) in today's environment.

I did believe in a higher power. I prayed to my God before meal times and before I fell asleep at night and while I was in church services. Did I believe in the Bible? Yes and no. I had not read all of it. I believed that some of its claims were figurative and that some were literal. I don't think this made me any less of a Christian. I viewed the creation story in Genesis as figurative while acknowledging the reality of evolution, though I fully embraced its claims about Jesus and his supposed sacrifice for humanity. I believed in the eternal existence of heaven and hell, though I had no idea who would end up in each place (I had not made up my mind about universalism or other approaches, but I knew that the Bible said that Jesus was the only way, and I could never get past that reality).

However, as much as I believed in the technicalities of Christian dogma, I also believed strongly in its pragmatic aspects. I believed in the power of faith. I had faith in my government and my society and my family and my friends -- and in God. I also believed in the power of the community in my church. I knew that they were basically good people. I saw my church as a positive influence in my life and as a positive influence in my community.

A nagging question pervades my thoughts: did I really believe in Christianity or did I believe in being Christian? Did I have a belief or did I believe in having a belief? Was I part of a belief community or was I a believer? I don't know the answer.

I don't know if I really was a Christian before I deconverted.

However, if I was not really a Christian, than most of the people in America who proclaim Christianity as their religion probably are not Christians, either. Of course, this assumes that there is an objective definition of what a Christian is, which is probably not accurate.

The major question is this: what do you believe in?

Do you believe in belief? Do you believe in community? Do you believe in faith? Do you believe in charity? Do you believe in good works?

Do you believe in Christianity because it provides an outlet for your other beliefs which you already have, or do you believe in it because you are a sincere follower, you've thought about it at length, and you really do believe that its claims are accurate?

It appears that many people in the world practice Christianity not because they have extensively researched the issues and determined that it is better than all the other religions and spiritual traditions in the world, but because it provides a framework for their other beliefs about themselves and the world which they have adopted from society and family and tradition.

And of course, the same thing is more than likely true for Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism and practically every other religious tradition on the planet.

I am tired of asking and answering "what" questions about religion. Now I am much more fascinated with the "why" questions. Why do people believe? Why do individuals believe a certain way?

Was I ever a Christian? Maybe not. Is anyone ever a Christian? Maybe not. Have you ever been a Christian? Maybe not.

Do you believe in a book? Do you believe in a revelation? Do you believe in belief?

Religions often try to be none of these things and all of these things at the same time, for everyone. The whole process of examining religion just confirms my opinion that the religions of our world are human-originated social constructs and not divine manifestations.

This Is Not A Post - Why Everything Must Be Questioned

If religion is accurate, it should withstand scrutiny.

Why question it? Why not appreciate its beauty and value?

Does a sunset lose its beauty or its value when examined?

If in the act of examination, a sunset is no longer a sunset, then what is it?

We should decide for ourselves.

The Paradox of Revelation

Many religious believers, including both everyday followers and famed theologians, privilege revelation over rational inquiry and analysis as a method for attaining results and insights.

Yes, revelation is a noted method indeed, producing such famous works such as the Qur’an, the Bible, the Bhagavad-Gita, the Talmud, and many others.

But nearly all religious believers do not take the sum of these works together, but rather believe in them separately. Revelation produces many fruits, but most believers only choose to consume a select few products from this tree of specialized knowledge claims.

If believers really have confidence in revelation as a method of gathering information, why don't they take all of revelations' results equally seriously?

That is, if the individual believer is going to emphasize revelation over analysis, then what makes the revelation of Paul inherently better than the revelation of Buddha or of Joseph Smith?

Believers are forced to admit that revelation in and of itself is generally a poor method for obtaining results, producing contradictory and vague insights.

There must be some additional, exterior standard applied to the products of revelation to determine whether they have any merit as the basis of a belief system.

However, revelation shouldn’t even need to be sorted out in this manner, should it? Shouldn’t it just be “self-evident” if it is divinely revealed? Revelation by definition should not necessarily appeal to any exterior standard for its confirmation.

But revelation never really is self-evident, is it? It does require some exterior standard for evaluation as the basis of a possible belief system.

Thus the thousands of religions, and even the thousands of variations within Christianity! Revelation can produce claims, but it's lacking a mechanism to sort them out, to see if they're plausible or believable.

If you are a religious believer, and you are privileging revelation over rational analysis, do you:

(One) hijack rational analysis to try and provide some kind of support for your revelatory claims, which (by definition) should not need to be supported in such a manner?

(Two) admit that you have no way to evaluate any of your religious claims on the same basis as competing claims derived from revelation, therefore rendering any religious claims you may possess indistinguishable from religious claims you do not possess?

The Power of the FSM Compels You!

Exchange from the blog "Unreasonable Faith":

Teleprompter: As long as you’ve prayed to the FSM, I’m sure it doesn’t matter what “religion” you are.

D.F.: Are you implying that praying to the FSM is a religion? IT’S NOT!!!! It’s a relationship! It’s communion! We eat his flesh and drink his blood! It has NOTHING to do with religion! It’s spiritual…communion…tasty…worship.

Teleprompter: It is a religion - and you are a HERETIC - you will burn in the sauce forever!

D.F.: Sorry to inform you, Teleprompter, and believe me when I say it breaks my heart, but YOU ARE THE HERETIC.

Obviously, the FSM has not chosen you to be a TrueFollower™. Perhaps you think you are a follower, but let me be clear — you are NOT a follower, and HAVE NEVER been a follower.
You have been deceived by pirates. Unless you repent, then it is YOU who will burn in sauce forever! Ramen!

Science and Religion: Which Works Better?

Let’s compare the scientific method to religion --

Scientific method: Observe. Deduce hypothesis. Make prediction. Perform experiment. Analyze results. Repeat for consistency.

Religious method: Observe. Deduce hypothesis. Do not make a prediction. Do not perform an experiment. Do not analyze results. Reject alternative explanations, even if they explain things in reality better than your hypothesis does. Or, revise hypothesis to accept alternative explanations. Then, either hold conflicting beliefs, or gradually define your hypothesis out of existence. Do not question. Repeat for consistency.

On the Nature of Spirituality (Part One)

As an atheist, how do I understand spirituality? How do I understand the religious inclinations of individuals?

Some sources have suggested that certain people have varying predispositions for the mystical or the spiritual.

For some people, "god" is reality - god exists for them and for them, he is indeed real. That is not necessarily a disconnect from reality -- for some people the mystical is as plain as daylight.

Then again, for schizophrenics, many things are also plain as daylight. But I'm not here to make that comparsion. I want to emphasize that this is a tough topic to negotiate: there are many complicated causes and effects of the practices of spirituality and mysticism.

Most of us are inclined to believe in the supernatural, for whatever reasons we may have, whether psychological, cultural, etc.

Some of us describe ourselves as "spiritual but not religious". Some of us are more accurately "religious but not spiritual" -- like a lot of people who profess that they're Christian or Jewish, etc. but rarely worship and only nominally think about and participate in their religion.

Some people really do have a self-proclaimed "spiritual" sense but don't believe in any particular religion, like Sam Harris. It would also be helpful to consider Carl Sagan's perspective on awe and wonder in our lives when considering this particular form of "spirituality".

I know a few friends (this is purely anecdotal) who have rejected Christianity but still felt in touch with a certain kind of "mystical sense" and became neo-pagan or polytheist/pantheist.

It seems from the way our psychology and perhaps our society has formed, that some people have a real need for religion or spirituality or mysticism in some variety. Now, I realize that it is highly debatable whether people actually "need" spirituality or mysticism. Do people need these things the way a drug addict needs drugs? Or the way a hormonal teenager needs sexual outlets? Or the way that a lonely person needs someone to talk to? I don't know where we should place the spiritual "need" in these categories. However, that uncertainty does not negate the existence of the "need" itself. As long as atheists refuse to address this base component of spirituality, most people will not understand atheism. Religion often serves as a proxy for many emotional attachments and states. Statistics may indicate that the non-religious are no less moral than the religious, but statistics are not enough to create understanding, or evolution would be far more widely accepted in American society than it is today. As long as atheists cannot or refuse to understand the emotional basis and implications of spirituality, people will not understand us.

I believe that this spirituality is an inner component of our psychology, and that each of us interprets this differently due to cultural and environmental influences. Some of us also feel this urge more strongly than others do.

Just because I believe that spirituality comes from inside of us, instead of from some external creator force, does not mean that I casually disregard it or see it as unnecessary to our lives.
There are many emotions and such within our minds that we feel, which may or may not be necessarily "true", but that we almost all acknowledge as perfectly valid feelings, such as love, anger, fear, etc.

I fully acknowledge that many urges which originate from inside of us are negative, and that perhaps spirituality is one of these negative urges which should be eliminated, controlled, or reduced. I understand this point of view. I do not know whether or not I agree with it.

I perceive spirituality as one more emotion we encounter in our existence, just as we experience fear, love, hope, anger, happiness, and many other feelings.

For me, spirituality is a perfectly valid feeling, but I have acknowledged that spirituality probably comes from within us, and also that each of us is especially prone to use confirmation bias to mold the perceptions we have of our internal spirituality so they conform to our culture's external sense of religious piety.

Craig Hogan speculated recently that our universe is actually a hologram, based on "noise" from the GEO600 machine. This is what I think about in terms of "spirituality".

My spirituality consists largely of a fond respect for the absurdity of our universe: if it is true that our entire universe is a hologram, can we honestly say that it is any stranger than, say, SpongeBob Squarepants living in a giant pineapple under the sea?

We human beings are all spiritual in many different forms: sometimes it is expressed through our love of religion, our love of a career, our love of nature, our love of humor, our love of family, our love of certain traditions, our devotion to patriotism or to sports or to politics.

Are other atheists so cocksure that they want to take a popular stand against the essence of "spirituality"? Yes, such an opinion may be valid; it may be correct for all I know -- but now it is suicide. When theists ask us why we can live our lives in a moral way, it isn't because they think we're evil -- it's because for them, spirituality is linked to all of these other positive values.

I agree that this connection is a profoundly negative one. But rather than focusing on a complete rejection of spirituality, it would be wiser and more efficient for us to shift the topic of spirituality away from the religious sentiments which divide us and towards the emotional sentiments which we all have in common.

I have nothing against Carl Sagan's or most liberal Christians' or Jews' or pantheists' spirituality. My problems lie with dogma. I have nothing against faith. My problems lie with blind faith.

I just want people to be able to make a knowledgeable decision about religion. Organized religion has claimed a place of unquestioned privilege in the realms of spirituality and morality which I strongly feel it has not deserved for much of human history. For me, it is long past time to reclaim morality and spirituality back from the vise grip of organized dogma.

I have no problems with individual religious experiences or even organized religion itself. My main frustration is with the monolithic oppression of dogma -- fundamentalism and ignorance devastatingly at work. That is the message atheists need to convey.

Atheists are not opposed to spirituality or morality -- not opposed to emotion or feeling -- not opposed to family or patriotism or service -- most atheists are opposed to the ignorance, prejudice, and anti-intellectualism which are strongly identified with religious fundamentalism and even many guises of so-called religious moderation.

Doubt, not dogma. Spirituality, not religion. Faith, not blind faith. Healing, not heresy.

The next segment more geared toward religious believers.