The Godless Generation

Links:

When It Rains Official Blog

When It Rains Kickstarter

In the summer of 2009, I volunteered as a camp counselor at a Midwestern Christian camp. By this time, of course, I had been an atheist for eight months, and was in my “militant” phase. But I still volunteered to help run this church camp. My reasoning was simple: I had volunteered here before and I knew the teenagers who would be enrolled in the camp. I wanted to be a part of their lives, to try and give them a glimpse of the liberal-scholarly approach to religion and Christianity.

It was a difficult experience; I often found myself shaking my head and scoffing inwardly as the campers and staff sat around the campfire and talked about the “power” of Jesus in their lives. I had some problems with leadership, who expressed concern that i was too negative toward the church. But, for the most part, I kept my most aggressive opinions to myself. There was, however, one camper I confided in. His name was Matt Sluder, and he was a senior in high school. He struck me as someone intuitive, introspective, and informed. More than this, though, I think I trusted him enough to be honest because I saw in him the same sort of searching, cynical outsider-ness that I myself felt. Neither one of us really belonged in that campfire circle; neither one of us bought into the stories anymore. But both of us still wanted to sit, to observe, to be involved.

For me, it was likely nothing more than a last attempt to get the message of “reason” across to young people who were in the process of forming their selves. I cannot say what Matt’s reasons were, other than these were his friends, his peers, and he had deep emotional and experiential ties with them.

Whatever the case, I sat in the outskirts of the circle next to Matt, the firelight barely illuminating our features, and I told him, “To be honest, I’m an atheist. I don’t believe a word of this anymore. I’m just here because I care about you guys,”. To which I believe he informed me that he was unclear on his own beliefs, but he was leaning towards self-identifying as an agnostic. We spent a moment talking about the path of doubt we had tread, the road out of faith. And then the moment was over; we never spoke about it again.

Almost three years later, I find myself reading through a new blog/documentary project by Matt Sluder and Will Findley (another highly-reflective student I was very fond of). Titled When It Rains, the project aims to interview people across the United States (with a particular focus on Millennials) concerning issues of faith and religious belief. (I’ve included the link, so go read their own words about what this project means, aims for, etc).

It is clear to any but the most fanatical reality-deniers. The landscape is changing when it comes to religion and belief in America. If I identify myself as an ex-Christian, ex-religious millennial, I am no longer a lonely voice. Organized, traditional religious organizations are faltering, failing to hold sway over the lives of “young adults.” It’s a cultural shift that means many things to many different people. To the mainstream religious, it may pose a challenge. A sort of “What do we do to reach them?” moment. To the fundamentalists, it probably engenders a kind of, “The world’s going to hell in a hand basket” crazy-time response. And to the atheists like me, it perhaps causes too smug a reaction. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm. I was a pioneer in millennial unbelief.” Or perhaps, “Your doom is inevitable, religions.”

Whatever the response, it is important for there to be a conversation, an examination, of what has changed, why it has changed, and perhaps, where it is all going. It’s a conversation worth having, and Will and Matt are working to encourage that conversation. But they cannot do it without support. So check out their blog, and if this documentary sounds like something you would be interested in, consider helping them fund it via Kickstarter.. If you cannot afford to donate, pass the word on to someone who is interested in this sort of thing.

Will, Matt: get out there and figure out why I’m so fucked up.

An Inward-Turned Eye

It has been nearly four years since I first began identifying myself as an atheist. Of course, this self-proclaiming was never a constant; I wavered, time and again, between Atheism ( capital “a”) and progressive mysticism and non-literal spirituality. But autumn of 2008 remains for me the season in which I made a decisive break with faith. It was and is a turning point in this meandering, shiftless quest for Darwin-knows-what. (That bit is a joke, intended for those imbeciles who suggest atheism to be the worship of Charles Darwin).

Before all this, though, I was often accused of being deeply introspective. I spent hours agonizing over the internal nature of my mind. My heart. Every action was met with analysis, every whim with self-conscious rumination. Knowing myself was, to me, kind of the point of this whole exercise. Of faith and of life, to know myself was the goal.

Indeed, it was this quest inward which broke the pillars of my faith. Certainly, the critical, unflinching scholarly study of religion and Christianity brought desolation upon my honest faith; but my inward-looking nature shared in the blame. It led me to the realization that, in order to remain true to my ideals–of knowledge, reason, and integrity–I had to abandon God. There was no place for me, even in progressive-liberal Christianity. I could be honest with myself, or I could be religious. I chose honesty, and have spent the past few years tumbling down the stony slope of Mount Faith.

The tumultuous internal and external changes of the past four years, which have ushered me into the life I now lead, had a curious, though perhaps not unexpected, effect on my temperament. It struck me, as I sat listening to Justin Townes Earle sing, in his wounded drawl:

So I’m learning, learning to be a better man.
I’m not certain but I think I can now.
Ah, but if I fall short just know
I’ve done all I can do to change.

I thought back to my days in seminary, seemingly a full lifetime past now. i thought back to the way I was, always with one eye on the heart, actively considering things like character. And always worrying over the man I was becoming. I’ll admit, it was with some sense of loss, looking at myself now, that I realized: I am not trying to be better.

I am not trying to be anything.

I do what comes naturally to me. I have spent a lifetime creating habits, and I live by those habit, by repetition. Perhaps the introspection is not totally lost to me, for immediately i was gripped by a searching mind. Questions flooded through me, and continued to haunt me day-after-day. What kind of person am I? What kind of person will I become, living without an inward-turned eye? Not the person I dreamed I would be. But how will I know, now, whether my dreams are worthy of my character? What is my character these days?

Am I cruel? Am I truthful? Am I loyal? Or are the actions I take merely reflexes, the learned reactions of a person that is accustomed to acting kind, honest, honorable? (The last one probably reveals that I’ve been watching too much “Game of Thrones,” seven take you! But, god damn if Sean Bean isn’t the most attractive man alive.)

I once valued introspection and critical self-analysis above all other attributes. It pushed me to excel, to treat others well, and to look at myself honestly and unflinchingly. I could look at myself in the mirror then and know that, if nothing else, I was trying to become better. All of it was spurred on by fear of God, and done for the sake of God at the time, of course. And so when I abandoned religion, my introspection and “character-keeping” went with it.

I would like to think that I have it in me to reclaim that reflective thoughtfulness, that will to know myself and better myself, without reference to deities and fiery punishments and palaces of pearl. Do I really need, have I ever really needed, God to make me a remarkable person? Was it ever God who made me kind or honest?

No. I do not need religion to be a better person. A lie, no matter how pretty or convincing, is never a solid foundation for building character. To know myself, for the betterment of myself, is a worthy enough pursuit.

Clinging to the Past

For the past couple of years, I have followed the work of John Shelby Spong, well, religiously. As I drew closer to the inevitable end of my faith, I still found his writing to be somehow impacting, transformative, inspiring. Despite the fact that I have come to radically different conclusions than Spong, I still respect him as a brilliant mind, a courageous theologian, and a great leader.

As I opened my inbox last week, I was greeted by Spong’s weekly column (“A New Christianity for a New World”). And, upon reading the title, I thought, “Uh oh…”

The title was “Richard Dawkins and his Challenge to Christianity” and the reason for my initial response was simple: I respect John Shelby Spong because of the liberal, advanced, intelligent way he rethinks faith; and I respect Dawkins because of the brilliant and charismatic way he dismantles faith. In a sense then, the article seemed to be the collision of two men I greatly admire–one representing my past, and one representing my present (and likely future). I did not want to read Spong trying to destroy Dawkins; neither do I like reading atheist attacks on Spong.

Of course, Spong handled the article with his typical grace and civility (well, that which he displays when he is not talking about Archbishop Rowan Williams). But, and this is surprising to me, I found myself disagreeing almost entirely with Spong’s critique. And, mind you, this was the same critique I had read from Spong, Borg, and a few other liberal theologians; but suddenly it lacked the power to convince me.

Perhaps it’s best to start with the contents of Spong’s article, and then address why I disagree.

The God We Reject

Richard Dawkins generally speaks against the supernatural, interventionist, Creator and keeper of history, King of the universe God. To be fair, I am certain that Dawkins himself would clarify and say that he also rejects any sort of divinity, deity, or god, but the book that brought him to the forefront of outspoken atheism focused primarily upon the traditional Christian image of God–the omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent. A literal Person and Creator of everything.

Spong recognizes that Dawkins’ criticisms in The God Delusion are primarily focused on this wretched image of God. And Spong rightly asserts that the God that Dawkins rejects is the same God that Spong has been rejecting. Spong, with his non-theistic, non-interventionist, not-really-a-person-but-definitely-a-reality God, has spoken out against the traditionalist God for most of his career. And so, Spong essentially places himself on the same side as Dawkins in regards to these antiquated God-images.

In doing so, his purpose seems to be to suggest that Dawkins’ understanding of God is a caricature, and that his criticisms do not reflect the actual reality of Christian belief today. Spong even goes so far as to state, in regards to the God whom Dawkins rejects, “This rather juvenile God died centuries ago, the victim of a revolution in thought that produced the modern consciousness.” That is to say, the scientific and philosophical advances of the past few centuries have essentially done away with the traditionalist God–the supernatural, all-powerful, guy-in-the-sky God.

Ignorance is King

Once upon a time, I was thrilled when Spong would make such statements. It would fill me with a sense of hope; a sense that maybe religion was becoming more informed, more intelligent, more honest. But, strangely, upon reading this defense by Spong once more, all those feelings are suddenly gone. Yes, I know that in academic circles, the literalist God is all but dead. But it doesn’t matter. Because, for every informed academic believer, there are a dozen uninformed literalists who still claim that God is looking down with a frown when you masturbate, or curse, or watch an R-rated movie. For every pastor that knows the Bible was not written by God, there are a dozen more who will scream that God dipped the quill in the ink himself. In other words, for every Spong there are a dozen Driscolls.

As one of my professors at the university often said, “You can never tell your congregation what you just learned or else they’ll fire you.” The academics may know an awful lot that would help eliminate superstitious ignorance, but the academics are either not speaking it where it matters, or they’re not being heard. (And, in my experience, it is the former, rather than the latter, that is mot prevalent).

I want Spong to be right. I want religion to be on its way toward informed belief rather than blind superstition. And it may simply be that Spong travels in much more educated and liberal religious circles than I ever did. But every church I have ever been to, every pastor I have ever known (except one), and every congregation I have ever spent time with still believe in (or at least publicly affirm) the exact God that Dawkins rejects.

It is very much the case that Spong’s vision of God is not the same as the one that Dawkins criticizes in The God Delusion. But, unfortunately, neither is Spong’s God the one that is still worshipped by the majority of believers. No, the supernatural, interventionist, judge-jury-executioner, Creator-of-all, literalist God is still very much alive and well in the minds of believers. And, despite the work of “frontier theologians” like Spong, and the prevalence of non-literal God-images in academia, there is little sign that popular religion is going to have a sudden awakening to the discoveries and insights (both biblical and theological) of the past two hundred years,

Spong is a brilliant thinker, and I still regard him as one of the few rays of hope for the future of Christianity. But, as regards his critique of Richard Dawkins, I find I must sorrowfully disagree with his conclusions. Popular, literalist religion is all-but-silencing the informed theology and biblical study of the best and brightest thinkers in favor of the regurgitated ignorance of bigoted, arrogant fools.

You Know What Today Is…

Pat Condell, British writer, comedian, and atheist, once said that freedom of speech was, to him, the most sacred value of all. As sacred to him as any god ever was to any believer. So sacred, in fact, that Condell even supports the right of religious fundamentalist nut jobs to spew their caustic dogma freely. In other words, free speech should not be compromised; it is indispensable (even when it causes offense or annoyance).[1]

Being that today is Blasphemy Day International, I felt that Condell’s message of free speech was particularly appropriate. Yes, Blasphemy Day International is a real thing. And, though most of what you’ll see regarding this “event” is a lot of denigrating, mocking, satirizing, and criticizing of religion, it would be a shame if that became the whole of your understanding of what Blasphemy Day International is all about. Certainly, I celebrate along with my fellow irreligious the right to blaspheme an imaginary god. But I fear the message may be lost in the midst of the irreverence.

Blasphemy Day International is a day that recognizes that human beings should have the right to express themselves freely. Freedom of thought, freedom of identity, and freedom of speech. It is not, and should not be, the role of the government to criminalize verbal dissent. People should be free to speak their opinions without fear of state-sanctioned punishment.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where those who seek to impose religion are more than willing to do so violently. In their zeal for their god, some would trample underfoot the rights of everyone around them. In some countries, they already have.

In Egypt, the Sunni majority uses the country’s “blasphemy laws” to persecute any dissenters–religious or nonreligious.

In Greece and Germany, public blasphemy can lead to incarceration.[2]

In Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan punishment up to and including execution is prescribed for blasphemers.

In numerous other countries, such as Finland, Israel, Denmark, and Brazil, blasphemous speech or criticism of religion are punishable offenses. In other countries, such as Yemen, Pakistan, and Nigeria, those accused of blasphemy are harassed, defamed, and often killed either by the government agencies or vigilantes.[3]

Freedom of speech, something so foundational to a free society, is not guaranteed. Many countries already suppress dissent (particularly religious dissent). And, unfortunately, even those of us from countries that are built on freedom seem all-too-willing to capitulate to the demands of the enemies of free expression. Even now, a struggle is being fought among world leaders (great job UN) over whether or not to criminalize, globally, the “defamation of religion.” Governments around the world are seriously considering compromising free speech in order to appease those who reject basic human rights.

That is what Blasphemy Day International is about. It is not really about blasphemy at all; it is about the right to disagree openly, to dissent publicly. It is about the struggle to ensure that each of us has the right to believe what we choose, and to express those beliefs publicly without fear of reprisal.

It is a firm affirmation that you have the right to speak freely about your god, and so do I. So, here’s to Blasphemy Day International. A day that reminds us that the freedoms we enjoy should be extended to others as well (even if we don’t like what they have to say). A day that tells those who would deny others the right to free speech, “We will not be cowed.”

Let’s build a better world, based on freedom.
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[1] Here is a link to Condell’s witty, scathing, inspiring (for an atheist like me, anyway) video, “Free speech is sacred.”

[2] Some of the information on blasphemy laws can be found in this fantastic video, made by the members of the UNIFI.

[3] Wikipedia has a concise summation of many of the blasphemy laws around the world. (Don’t judge me; if college kids can use Wikipedia as a source, so can I).

Church is for Criminals

Admittedly, I am not the most informed citizen on the map in terms of the legal system. But, from what I do understand of the criminal court system, i am fairly certain that sentencing an offender to a year in church is not quite within the bounds of the separation of church and state. Unfortunately, the officials in Bay Minette, Alabama seem to understand the legal system about as well as I do; they are giving non-violent offenders the choice of either jail time and a fine, or mandatory church attendance.

The claim by Bay Minette police chief is that this sentencing is not illegal (separation of church and state) because the inmates are offered the choice–jail or church–and they are allowed to choose the venue.

Perhaps it is my atheism showing through, but all of that still feels remarkably like a government sponsorship of religion.

First, let’s address the “choice.” It does not take a genius to recognize that what is being offered is a “false choice.” We can likely all think of similar choices between something that will genuinely cost you something, and another which will just be mildly convenient. It all reminds me very much of Eddie Izzard’s bit “Cake or Death.” The only difference is Eddie Izzard’s comedy bit was funny; what’s happening in Bay Minette is not (unless you make jokes about how church is literally becoming a punishment).

Seriously, though, offenders are asked to choose between giving up their freedom and paying a fine, or simply attending a church of their choice for perhaps ninety minutes a week. Months in jail, or ninety minutes sitting on a pew? That, I should not need to point out, is a choice that virtually makes itself. Officials use the language of choice, but in reality they know what the vast majority of offenders will choose. They offer a false choice that forces offenders to attend a religious institution.

So, offenders are being sent to church to do what, precisely? They must listen to a sermon, possibly sing some songs, and have a chat with the pastor? Where is the rehabilitation? Where is the “giving back” to their community? I know they expect religion to engender a powerful transformation, but, as my wife eloquently stated, “I went to church for four years and it didn’t change me.” Attending worship once a week does not mean offenders will be doing anything positive for their community; a worship service rarely includes service, despite the name. The hope, I am certain, is that the power of Jesus will break through and–POOF!–the criminal is now a contributing member of society. But that is simply not realistic. Going to church, aligning oneself with a religion does not make one a better person morally or legally.[1] It may work for some, but church attendance in no way demands change, transformation, or rehabilitation. All it guarantees is that offenders will have to listen to sermons that may, themselves, be questionable.

The offenders’ choice should be between jail and an option that genuinely offers the reasonable potential for change and positive social contribution. Teach them a trade, have them do community service, clean up city parks, volunteer in hospitals, soup kitchens, schools. Granted, all of this would need to be highly supervised, but I can think of at least a dozen potentially transformative alternatives to “sit at church for an hour.”

Regardless of the reasons and motives for this mandatory church attendance “choice,” the fact still remains that this represents a government sponsorship of religion. Whether you think that church really is rehabilitative, it does not matter. The government should never be allowed to enforce mandatory religious involvement.
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[1] According to one source, about 80% of prison inmates report religious affiliation (cf. here).

Thinking Style and Belief in God

Three researchers in Harvard’s Psychology Department recently published a study concerning thinking style and religious beliefs. You can read a brief summary of the study here, or find the abstract and a purchasable PDF version of the study here.

Essentially, the study suggests that people who operate out of a more intuitive cognitive style–that is, those who react and make decisions based upon “gut feeling”–are more likely to report belief in God than those who relied upon a more reflective thinking style. Obviously, these are just tendencies (like the tendency toward atheism that accompanies increased education); not everyone who is intuitive will believe in God, nor are all analytical people atheists. But it is interesting that cognitive style and belief are apparently linked.

There has been a lot of speculation about where religion and God-belief originated in human history. Obviously, many who accept the existence of God would want to posit that belief was not a “development” in human history at all; it was simply dropped in on us (in the form of carved stone tablets, perhaps?). But I think any informed student of human history has to grapple with the very human characteristics of our religions. There is an undeniable history of religious development displayed throughout our religious texts and the communities that created them.

Some religious thinkers (oh John Shelby Spong, how I love to use you as an example) accept the human origin of religion and explain that it developed as a means of coming to grips with who we are, this mysterious universe we find ourselves in, what it might all mean, and especially the awakening of the human species to self-awareness. Religion began as an intuitive “reaction” to the experiences of life–a reaction that saw causation, intent, and purpose in the events of history. (Of course, these intuitive reactions were then analyzed and reflected upon until we had a less-than-intuitive mess of overly complex and seemingly incomprehensible theological teachings).

If the origin of religion–belief in “God/gods”–is the result of such intuitive reactions to reality, it makes sense that those same styles of cognition (that is, intuitive knowing) would lead to similar conclusions today. Intuitively, it does seem to make sense that there is something more out there. I don’t think there is, but even I can recognize that certain ways of thinking make God-belief seem more likely than others.

Of course, neither this recognition nor the study itself prove or disprove the existence of God. But it does demonstrate that our belief (or disbelief), though it seems to us the most natural choice, may not seem so obvious to someone who functions from a different cognitive style.

Proof of God

Today, my brother asked me a hypothetical, religiously-oriented question that made me hesitate a moment before offering an answer. He asked, “If we knew that God existed, with the same certainty with which we know gravity exists, and we also knew, with that same certainty, that this God really was good (i.e. really did work all evil for good and all that jazz), would you then follow God?” It was not an evangelistic tactic; just a question searching for the reasons we do not believe in God.

As I said, I had to hesitate a moment, because the notion of that kind of certainty over something like “God” was just too far beyond my current reality of experience to allow for a quick answer. But then, eventually, i said, “If I knew that God was real (i.e. had overwhelming, critically examined evidence) and knew that this God was actually good and loving, then I suppose I would follow this being. I would have no real reason not to.” (Of course, knowing with that kind of certainty that someone is “good” is a bit tricky. The old problem of evil and suffering in the world simply will not leave God alone!)

This was not really about discussing what kind of evidence would prove God; that was not the point. It was about what makes us (at least some of us) atheists. And, for me, my disbelief originated in the inconsistency of the biblical narrative, both with itself and with actual human history, and culminated in the conclusion that there really is no convincing evidence for belief in a god, much less in the Judeo-Christian God. There was bitterness and anger involved in the deconversion, but my primary reasons for deconversion were simply that there was not enough evidence to convince me to choose belief over disbelief.

But, supposing that such evidence were discovered, if scientific and critical examination of the universe screamed, “God is real!” then of course I would believe. If this God was proven to be good as well, then even more than believing, I would follow. I would have no hesitation giving up my label of “atheist” because, for myself (and I think most of my atheist peers), the accusation that atheism is “just another religion” is a false one. There are exceptions (folks who have internalized the atheist ideology and identification so deeply that they are literally devoted to it), but my atheism is not and has never been about devoting myself to this particular ideology as opposed to that. I am an atheist simply because I doubt the reality of God’s existence, not because I am drawn to some messianic organization known as Atheism (capital “A”) that will save us all and deliver us to personal and professional fulfillment. Atheism has never seemed to belong in the same mental category that Christianity once inhabited for me.

But, even I will admit: it would take a lot of evidence to reconvert me.

If You Want It Taught in Science Class, Make Sure It’s Science

Several years ago, the Muslim apologist Harun Yahya published an expensive and elaborate text known as the Atlas of Creation. This “science” book put forth the belief that evolution is a hoax, and sought to prove this by juxtaposing images of ancient fossils with images of contemporary creatures which resembled them. Yahya identified the fossils with the now-living creature and claimed that their identical structures proved that these species had not evolved (and therefore evolution is not real). Unfortunately, most of his species’ identifications were incorrect, and his science was beyond sloppy (in one case, his “modern creature” was actually a picture of a fishing lure… No shit). (c.f. Richard Dawkins’ critique of the Atlas, as he can no doubt explain it much better than I). And yet, despite the fact that this beautifully illustrated yet marvelously absurd Atlas of Creation is a massive collection of errors and (whether purposefully or not) false evidences, this is precisely the sort of “science” that the uninformed point to in order to bolster their faith arguments. And it is these sorts of disingenuous scientists who prey upon the scientifically illiterate.

Take, for example, the disciplines of scientific creationism and intelligent design. Both of these perspectives are currently being pushed forward to be taught in public schools as alternatives to scientific teachings such as evolution and the naturalistic origin of the universe. And yet, both scientific creationism and ID have been rejected by the vast majority of credible scientists and have been deemed, by the Supreme Court, as religious ideologies lacking the essential characteristics of real science! And still we talk about how they should be included as alternative perspectives?!

The argument is that these theories are just as likely as evolution, which is (after all), just a theory as well. But this fails to take into consideration the fact, for the responsible scientist, that “theory” does not mean “an unproven guess.” No, in science, a theory is “a hypothesis that has been confirmed or established by observation or experiment, and is propounded or accepted as accounting for the known facts.”[1] In other words, in science, a theory is an explanation that is supported by the facts, which are garnered through experimentation and observation. Evolution is not a guess; it’s an explanation that accounts for and is heavily, heavily demonstrated by the available facts.

On the other hand, creation science, at least insofar as I have been exposed to it, relies on a limited base or foundation of information, and either reinterprets, ignores, or discounts outright any evidence that contradicts the (faith-based) hypothesis. For example, the belief that the earth is only a few thousand years old requires a rejection of the findings of the scientific, archaeological, anthropological, and historical communities, which by and large agree that it is much, much older. How can the earth itself be younger, by several thousand years, than the oldest known civilization? Obviously, there is a problem with your scientific method if “ignore all opposing data” is one of your operational guidelines.

The problem with scientific creationism and ID are not that they assume God’s role; the problem is that they use shoddy science to try and gain credibility with the (scientifically illiterate) masses. They have their hypothesis (“God created everything through specific, non-evolutionary means), and they refuse to revise that hypothesis when opposing information is introduced. That pretty much takes the science right out of these “faith-sciences.”

I have no problem including opposing viewpoints in the discussion of scientific unknowns. If you think something other than natural selection drove the evolutionary process, and you have at least enough evidence to give reasonable support to your theory, by all means, teach it in science class.[2] But if your theory is a religious doctrine propped up by the fringe pseudo-science of a few less-than-credible “experts” (like our friend Harun Yahya) it does not belong in public education. We cannot teach every theory, so we damn well better teach the best ones available.
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[1] Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd edn, 1989. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

[2] I intentionally neglected to say, “If you think something other than evolution brought about all the varied species…” because, to every credible scientist, evolution is fact, or as near to it as science can get.

Reshaping Christianity in the Netherlands

Last month, the BBC ran a story on their website about a Dutch Protestant church
pastor, Reverend Klaas Hendrikse, who had some remarkable things to say (particularly given his position in the church). Here is the full story: Dutch rethink Christianity for a doubtful world.

A couple noteworthy quotations:

“Make the most of life on earth, because it will probably be the only one you get.”. He goes on to say that he has no “talent” for believing in the afterlife. “No, for me our life, our task, is before death.”

“When it happens, it happens down to earth, between you and me, between people, that’s where it can happen. God is not a being at all… it’s a word for experience, or human experience.”

Hendrikse is not alone. Apparently, in his denomination and six others in the Netherlands, as many as one-in-six clergy are either agnostic or atheist. And still they maintain their connections and identity as Christians.

It is not so shocking. Christianity, and religion in general, is not totally consumed with dogmatic belief and supernatural claims. Some atheist opponents of religion would like to speak as if all religious people were crazy, super-fundamentalists, but it’s just not the case. Many come to religion and remain therein, not because they believe in all the fantastical claims, but because the mythology and community provides a meaning-rich foundation for understanding and living their lives.

In any case, Hendrikse (and thinkers like him) are not new or surprising. Many throughout the centuries have tried to cast off the baggage of historical Christian doctrine in favor of a more open, less literal belief system. I, myself, wrestled with notions of a non-being “God” (c.f. The City Sleeps) before finally hanging my hat up and abandoning Christianity altogether. And for every radical non-theistic, non-literalistic thought I had, I found someone else had already written about it. Some forms of religion may resist change; but not all are so rigid.

Traditionalists may scream about how Hendrikse and his ilk are perverting the Gospel and have nothing meaningful to say (because they have abandoned “the Truth” or some equally cliched wording). Indeed, many atheists might agree with the traditionalists, insofar as laying the charge that these Christian reformists are “not really Christian at all.” That, since they do not believe in a literal “man-in-the-sky” God, they should just join the atheist crowd.

But I disagree with both groups. I think a re-imagining of Christianity, beyond the superstition and the doctrine which demands believers shut their eyes to the way the world really is, is long overdue. Two-thousand (plus) year old beliefs, regurgitated yet again for consumption, are not what is needed; nor are these ancient ties going to keep Christianity alive in the future. The faith needs not only to recognize that its tired answers are no longer efficacious, but also that the questions it is asking have expired. New questions and new answers (ones that don’t demand we shut our eyes to reality) are the only things that will carry our religions into the future.

Since I am an atheist, it might seem odd that I would support the efforts of figures like Hendrikse, Spong, and others who seek to recreate Christianity for a (post)modern world. Shouldn’t I rather enjoy seeing the fundamentalists and literalists cling to their sinking ship and drag the whole mess into the abyss? After all, shouldn’t my goal be a world free of religion, even free-thinking religion? To that, I can only say, “I may not believe in God, but neither do I believe that religion, all religion, every religion, is incompatible with a thoughtful, compassionate life.”. I am not religious, but I am also not an evangelist of atheism. I am not egotistical enough to believe that my conclusions are the only conclusions that should exist.

And, indeed, I think too many atheists fail to understand the importance of story, of narrative, of mythology in human life. Story gives us a means of understanding and shaping our lives, and, at least for now, the atheist movement has failed to take seriously the power of story, or the desire for mythology to answer the deeper longings, uncertainties, and insecurities of the human psyche. Story is powerful, meaningful, important; and secularism is somewhat lacking, in my experience, of this sort of life-shaping story.

So, if a group of Christians want to rewrite their central stories to make them more tolerant, more thoughtful, more responsible, and more compatible with modern thought, I see little reason why I should oppose them. Instead, I applaud those with the courage to reshape their religions in positive, life-affirming ways.

Making Up God

When I was struggling through the last months of my faith, I turned to process theology and more liberal, less literalistic conceptions of God and religion. As I did so, I found myself in a strange intellectual and emotional world where the walls of orthodoxy and tradition seemed to vanish. Indeed, even the “floor” of my Christian faith seemed removed, leaving me in a state of suspension, in which I relied only upon my own experiences and thoughts, and the experiences and thoughts of other disenfranchised “believers” to guide me. At some point, I remarked to my pastor that my endeavors, without the crutch of strict doctrine, left me feeling like I was “making it all up.” I could not cling to the God-images of my tradition because they were (and continue to be) simply incompatible with my intellectual life. They were unbelievable, irrational, unconvincing. And so, with his encouragement, I began to ask myself, “Why shouldn’t I pursue these new images of God, even if their source is my own intuition and deep reflection?”

In the end, I abandoned all notions of God-as-literal-reality. But along the way, I came face to face with a thought that continues to scratch at the periphery of my spiritual life: If religion is created, and God-images are the explanatory projections of other human beings’ experiences of the “something-more” of life, then why are ancient myths treated as more valid than modern ones? Why should the modern skeptic (given that she has sufficient interest in the subject, and that she is dissatisfied with a purely secular ideology) not engage in crafting their own conceptions of what it might mean to say “God?”

I must admit that I am sometimes deeply dissatisfied with the answers that many modern atheists provide to questions of existence, meaning, and fulfillment. Some days, I hate being an atheist because it can be a painful and depressing concept to think that this is all there is–this being a purely biological and evolutionary existence in which there is no intrinsic meaning, no intrinsic hope. Only a brief and difficult journey that ends in nothing more than annihilation. It is a crippling thought, at least for me, to think that all that I am, and all that my loved ones are, will simply cease to be. That my wife Mackenzie, with all her personality and internal beauty and intellectual brilliance, will one day vanish into a sea of nonexistence, with no part of her carrying on into something else. It seems like such an unimaginable waste.

But, as I stand in that moment of emotional and existential uncertainty and consider turning back toward belief, again I am confronted with a problem: as much as I may feel unsatisfied with the outcome of a purely atheistic ideological system, I still cannot return to religion because there is simply too much superstitious and unbelievable baggage that accompanies the world of religious explanation. Heaven and hell, angels and demons, sinners and righteous separated out by an all-seeing, all-knowing God-figure–all of it rests totally beyond the realm of the acceptable for me. To believe again in these things would require a complete abandonment of my intellectual life. And that is something I am unwilling to do.

Perhaps the answer to my existential dilemma lies in the willingness to engage in imaginative rethinking of spiritual explanations. God, for me, is not (and very likely can never be again) a literal being, a personal force, or an internal coach which prompts and directs life toward some noble end. And the afterlife, similarly, cannot be reasonably conceived of as a literal place in which the souls of the dead, despite the total cessation of all processes that made them alive, mingle and carry on. Does this mean that God must mean nothing to me? That the afterlife must be conceived of only as a void? Must it be one or the other–accept wholesale either religion or atheism?

I do not think so. Maybe, if one finds the courage to entertain notions that the transcendence we experience as humans is more than psychological mind-tricks, one can find a sense of satisfaction in these difficult questions of existence. Maybe, if I am willing to “make God up” a bit, to look beyond the apparent and obvious and to welcome the sensation of mystery in the universe, I can find a creative outlet for the haunting sense that there must be something more. That life is not simply a terrifying tragedy which sees us wandering through events trying to find their meaning, developing as interesting and potentially beautiful human beings, only to meet our final and total end in eradication.

I do not think that God, as this figure has traditionally been explained, is the answer to our spiritual longing. I do not think that Heaven is the solution to the tragedy of death. But I am willing to entertain the idea that what is now apparent to us, in this scientific age, is not the ultimate answer. I do not think it is mandatory, given our current knowledge, to conclude that we are nothing but genetic machines. That life leads to death, and that beyond death there is nothing whatsoever.

Bruce Ledewitz posits that the biblical authors looked at their world, at their experiences, and labeled the something-more of life “God.” God was their answer to the questions that haunted them. For them as well as for us, “Maybe God just meant they did not know.”