TO me, Theology is on a par with discussions about the world of Vampires, or Super Heroes, or Hobbits... SO much complication and waffle about nothing..
@NovaSaber 9 hours ago
Yeah, I really don't see how, with no evidence of any god existing, theology can be anything more important or serious than, like, the "theories" page on the Evangelion wiki.
And so I replied to them.
@NovaSaber > It's important because the vast majority of human beings in the world believe this nonsense, and live their lives by the mythical accounts & tenets of those nonsense fictions. They affect our world, greatly, on many levels, so it matters.
If someone pretends that vampires are real and sets out to convince everyone of the superiority of the great Lord Dracul, they're largely harmless because we've all received the information that such writings were fictional, and that scientifically vampirism is not a real problem for humans. We know it's fiction. Are there credulous people in some small segment of the population that believes that vampires are real and threaten human safety? Yes. Are they a large group and capable of enacting laws about how we live our lives? No. Do they dictate social norms, proscribe cultural behaviors and attempt to criminalize people who don't believe as they do? No.
But Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists, from all the differing varieties (there are "secular" sects of Buddhism, but many forms, secular or not, involve magical thinking in their practice & doctrine), make up a massive number of the global population, and are comprised of people from every walk of life, including the political leadership of the most powerful, most economically influential, most culturally noisy, nations on Earth.
People who are meant to make policy decisions about economics and war, about the legality of various behaviors and rights, are true believers that a celestial Jewish baby who is also his own father, born from a virgin mother, died for a long weekend so he could ascend to an utopia dimension and make us live forever only if you eat his magic flesh and drink his magic blood, and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master and lord so he can remove the evil force from your spirit self that is present in all of humanity because a bad woman made from a dude's rib was told the truth by a talking reptile who may have been possessed by a malicious angel to convince her to eat special fruit from a magic tree.
Literally.
They literally believe this.
And they get to make laws about medical care and education.
That's why.
Christian Self-Centering & Prayer
I recently made a friend who is religious, and we have some interesting exchanges in which
she shares with me some things I wouldn’t normally look into, and I basically crap all over
theology and rant about my dissatisfaction with it. I’m kind of a bitch, but she seems to
be sincerely interested in other viewpoints, and is making some gentle pokes and prods into
“deconstructing” her faith (her choice of words). She’s a member of the Seventh-Day
Adventist Church, so her views are evangelical Christian, bordering on fundamentalism. I’ll
call her “Beckany” to retain her privacy, though I suspect she wouldn’t object otherwise.
Beckany has been exceptionally well-intentioned in our exchanges, and if sometimes she
expresses things I have taken issue with, it’s never due to malice or disrespect on her part.
For my part, I always try to avoid accusing people or disparaging the individual, and
constrain my criticisms to the subject matter, or, when applicable, to behavior. Never
“you’re bad,” but “what you did was bad,” respecting the person and their agency to choose
their own actions. We’re pretty much this way mutually: emotions about the subject are fine,
but we don’t go ad hominem.
In the following I may alter my own text slightly to correct distractions like typos or
redundancies, but otherwise I just want to put into a better format this series of statements
I found usefully encapsulated. So, to get started, here’s what Beckany sent me:
I know we don’t believe the same, but it’s something my heart wants to say to
people I care about during Sabbath hours 🌱
So in my denomination between sundown Friday night & sundown Saturday night
we greet & goodbye “Happy Sabbath” to one another as a sort of aloha. I’ve been having
more & more joy gradually this summer & this morning as I was feeling gratitude for
the goodness & healing that have been coming to me after a long & difficult season,
you were among my thoughts, so I wanted to tell you: Happy Sabbath 🌱
Now, as I said, I’m a bit of a bitch. Here’s (much of) my reply. (I added a personal anecdote
not relevant to the parts I will share shortly.)
I appreciate that you feel that's something positive, and I don't, out of habit, tend
to turn down well-wishings, but it's a little condescending.
Thank you for wanting to be positive, though. And I am glad that you find it positive
for yourself. But note that I won't be wishing you a happy Lupercalia in February, bc I know you
wouldn't want that.
Naturally, being a genuinely good and decent person, she replied with “I truly didn’t
mean to be condescending. I’m sorry Fern.” Isn’t she sweet? Here’s when I went on a
tangent.
I know you didn't, so you don't need to apologize. I know you only intended something
kind. I also know you are making what seem to be sincere efforts to seek out other
perspectives on such things, so I wanted to offer you the chance to look at it from
another perspective: to presume the theological correctness that supersedes someone
else's worldview.
Many atheists find the assertions of theistic worldviews which override their beliefs
to be offensive. Saying "I'll pray for you" is one of the most common ways to aggravate
an atheist for this reason. If I were Muslim and said I'd call for Allah's justice upon
your infidel head, because in my worldview it would be the only way to cleanse you of
your sacrilegious acts, that may feel a little obnoxious. If I were a Satanist and said
I would pray to Satan for your deliverance from the false god Yahweh, you'd likely not
appreciate this. I've seen atheists claim that their response to the "I'll pray for you"
comment is "I'll do the thinking for both of us, then," a deliberate condescension which
obviously implies that theists don't actually think for themselves.
If you consider the basic notion of atheism—the simple definition of not believing in
gods—the idea that you, from the atheist's perspective, would imagine yourself to
telepathically communicate with an imaginary superbeing, on my behalf, is pretty much an
epistemological 'fuck you' to the atheist. I would consider it akin to walking into a
vegan's home and sitting down to eat a roast beef sandwich at their own table.
It's also common for atheists to see prayer as pointless, and if you truly want to do
something kind for them, take action in a way that honors them personally. Naturally,
since atheism isn't a homogenous system of beliefs, just a single lack of one, I can't
say "this is how atheists think" without being wrong about some number of them.
Atheists are typically scientific thinkers, but there's no rule. There are some
supernatural thinkers out there who don't believe in the existence of gods, but do believe in magical, unscientific things like ESP, Tarot, reincarnation, or
similar ideas.
It's weird. Why do we offer people hopes for a "happy [day]" for specific points in time?
I mean, "Happy Birthday" or "Merry Yule" or something, or your "Happy Sabbath"... why is
"have a nice day" not good enough? Wanting people to be happy, even when it isn't a
special day, that seems nice. But if we only want it for special days... that's sad.
Her replies:
For me, it wasn’t about presuming theological correctness.
It actually feels more like a culturally familiar thing related to rest & well-being.
And a peer from my past I really respect very rightfully busted me on using it in a snarky
way at him at the end of an email, telling me to not ever use it again as a slap in the
face, and that “it should be one of the most loving & beautiful things people can say
to each other.”
And my brain figured that since Sabbath is defined as being at a certain time whether you
believe in God or not, that it would be okay. Because I’m definitely familiar with the
other patronizing “Jesus loves you”’s and “I’ll pray for you”’s that Christians have
inflicted on atheists in a browbeating way and I’ve never wanted anything to do with that
dynamic—still don’t.
I think “Have a nice day” is good enough, it’s just that some days are special & they
feel different & make a person want to say different things.
I hope it can make a difference that I wasn’t trying to be theological with you at
all—that it came from affection that’s grown since we became friends.
(I’m omitting some more personal notes, but my continuation…)
See? I knew you didn't mean it to be condescending, I was only pointing out that the basic
paradigm itself makes an assumption about what's "normal" and "correct."
The idea of a sabbath is inherently theological, so "since Sabbath is defined as being at
a certain time whether you believe in God or not", I have to point out no, it is not. The
very concept of a sabbath is intrinsically tied to theological belief in a deity. It isn't
just "a day of the week," it's a liturgical concept, and based in Abrahamic beliefs.
Look at any calendar; we use the common 7 names for the days of the week. None of them are
"sabbath". It's a specifically religious title asserted to one of those days based on the
writings in religious texts.
Granted, that wouldn't necessarily matter if the term had transcended its origins, but it
hasn't. It still carries religious connotations, almost exclusively Abrahamic ones (though
Wiccans and other silly people have adopted it, too, a kind of thumb in the eye at the
religious oppression of Abrahamic faiths). True transcendence would be if it was the
only term used by a given culture, and nobody associated it with religious
practices, like the aforementioned days of the week themselves, which have pagan origins
that many people don't even recognize, or notice. "Sabbath" has not come close to that
religious "desaturation".
So that presumption of "defined as [x] whether you believe in [your god] or not" is
indicative of an assumption of centralized narrative: you presume your worldview is factual,
obvious, the natural, "normal" way of things, when it demonstrably is not. It assumes your
god to be real, and that everyone else must assume your perspective of your behavior,
decentralizing their own experience to centralize yours as privileged. Which I think is kind
of the root of what people see as condescending: when the narrative/worldview of one person
displaces that of others without consideration or even notice.
You may notice that I highlighted an implied notion in that: your god. The "sabbath"
concept is an expression of the Abrahamic theology, of the god you believe in. In your
world, it is a specific time for religious practices, based on the god you believe in,
used for practices and rituals which you engage in as part of your perceived relationship to
that being.
I am not the only one who that sentiment displaces, then: there are other theologies which you
assume privilege over if you assert your notion of sabbath. What of those who have a sincere
belief in a different god or gods? What of the Muslim, the Zoroastrian? How would one
who worships Krishna, or Vishnu, or Brahman, feel about your assumption of correctness? (Well,
that's in interesting example, because they'd probably reverse it on you, be overjoyed at your
sentiment, welcome it, then try to teach you how it's really an expression of the Vedic
scriptures, and you're also practicing Hinduism, too, bc all other faiths are just an expression
of their own.) A Buddhist of some stripes might be confused by your assumption that one specific
time be held as "holy" or religiously special, because their entire practice is devoted to
making each and every moment sacred, so to limit it to one time would be degrading.
This actually touches on yet another reason I reject most theistic claims, but especially
the Abrahamics: they aren't universally applicable, they apply to a specific culture and place,
and then the religious institutions have been trying to export it to anyone and everyone. How is
a "sabbath" important and true in this specific moment over on this continent, but move 5 or 6
time zones away and it's not true yet. The very concept of days and nights are dependent upon
ones location upon this specific planet. So why would a being of the magnitude proposed by
Abrahamic beliefs—an all-powerful, all-knowing creator being who supposedly created our
entire existence—be hung up about the specific moments on a tiny little speck of
rock in a backwater solar system in an ordinary little fringe spiral of this one galaxy out of
billions... A being of that order, making a fuss over the single, petty little apes on that itty
bitty little ball, seems so unlikely as to be preposterous, and that's not even getting into how
one defines "a day" to that being. It's the height of conceit.
So you can't universally apply the notion of a "sabbath" within the notion of a creator deity.
It becomes based on some of the most petty, nearly irrelevant aspects of life: geography, mere
chance of birth into a given culture during an infinitesimally small point of history, and only
after having accepted the garbled leftover scraps of writing from goat herders & bureaucratic
scribes as being divinely sourced.
It’s absurd.
A being like the one posited by the Abrahamics, or for that matter the Vedic faiths (various
breeds of Hinduism), or others, that incomprehensibly powerful and knowing creator being, wouldn't
be so invisible. Wouldn't need special but utterly flawed books from an incredibly small segment
of the human species in an incredibly narrow slice of time in human history (let alone all of the
history of time/existence), to explain it. And I cannot conceive how pathetic such a being would
be if it demanded nonsense like killing people who eat shellfish, or worrying about who put their
penis into the body of another person with a penis. The disparity between the sheer scope of a
deific creator and one that demands blood sacrifices (wtf?) is just too incredible. In the literal
sense of the word: I cannot credit the idea. It's an insanely bad idea.
Such a being ought to peek out at us in ways that leave no doubt whatsoever. For example, what
if we suddenly found a pattern in the calculations of pi? A theoretically infinite number, which
there are computers calculating still, to this day. What if the computers finally found a
non-random pattern? Like this idea: [See Fig. 1]
Fig. 1: Example of how a creator deity could indicate its presence by inserting a clearly
artificial string into the number for pi (click to open full image in a new tab).
Now, something like that would probably convince me. But the magic book from Mesopotamia, with
obvious crossover mythologies from nearby cultures of about 2500 to 3500+ years ago? Oh, and not
just that book, but one specific version of that book. And one specific
interpretation of that specific version of that specific book from people who lived
thousands of years ago with demonstrably missing and factually incorrect "knowledge" of the
world around them. That's the god you think is real? I can't buy that.
I also know that part of my loss of faith came from learning how many of the supposed "signals"
and "evidences" (it's pretty much only creationists use the term "evidences"—it's a mass
noun, and though there are examples of archaic usage, it isn't grammatical today) are explained
in demonstrably non-supernatural ways.
Coincidences happen all the time and make sense in a world of statistics and probability. They
aren't "miracles" and/or "signs from God", they're just stochastic events which our brain wants
to sort into recognizable patterns with meaning and significance. The brain does all manner of
pattern-based sorting and assuming; it's what has helped make homo sapiens a successful species.
I walk into my shed from a bright day outside. Even if I tug the twine to turn on the bulb,
there'll be a moment when my eyes have to adjust to the darkness. As I enter, I catch glimpse
of something from the corner of my eye, a threat! A snake! In my mind, at that instant, the truth
is that I am in danger of being bitten by a dangerous predator, my hind brain, the lizard, leaps
into action, my hypothalamus pumping a cocktail of neuropeptides into my system to help me best
use by body to ensure my survival. Adrenaline gives me the necessary quickness of reflexes and
muscle activity to make me faster, more alert, my pupils dilate to make better use of the limited
light, and in that fraction of a second I am primed for fight or flight. As the light washes in,
my eyes adjust, I see it's merely a coil of rope spilled on the floor. I even knew the rope was
there before I entered, because I had lazily tossed it inside last weekend. But for that slice of
time, my mind had made all kinds of assumptions and categorizations of the information I had
available, to give me the best chance of suvival.
I think religion is largely a more complex, expanded version of some of that categorization
technique, the tendency to project our own sense of life, to anthropomorphize, onto the material
phenomenon, and ascribe them abstract attributes. The thunder is the gods being angry, loud and
violent like we get when we're angry (and immature). The sun and moon rise and set like horses
across the plains, or people wandering in a field, or per the order of some higher being directing
them. This is religion: humanity projecting itself onto the cosmos, then feeling comforted or
frightful of how that self-image might treat them.
One personal experience stands out to me as part of those catalyzing moments of realization in
my young adult years which made me start seriously questioning: prayer.
In Mormonism, one of the cultural terms they like to use as a way to affirm to laity the
correctness of the LDS theology is the "burning in the bosom" one should experience when
acknowledging the veracity of the subject prayed about. The idea is that if one fervently prays
to Heavenly Father to ask if the LDS religion is really the One True Church, one can know it is
affirmed if they feel a burning in the bosom, a kind of warmth or energy sense in the chest or
body. If you feel it, you know it is true.
Of course, if you don't feel that, it is often excused as insincere investigation, or a
closed and skeptical mind which prevents the Holy Spirit from entering your heart. (I'm using their
terms, of course—they're manipulative bullshit, but I'm trying to convey my own mindset and the
culture I was within). If you'd only pray harder, with greater humility and allowing God into your
heart, if you just let the Holy Spirit dwell within you, you will feel that burning in the bosom.
Clear your mind of all the distractions, all the mental clutter which might prevent you being
receptive to the answer you seek. Only then can you be ready to receive the answer.
And what do you know? If you pray intently, focus on nothing but the question—"Is the Church [of
Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints] the One True Church? Is this the True Relgion?"—and dismissing
all thought but that question, eyes closed, focused on the question... There it is!! A sensation
of warmth, an almost vibrating sensation of energy in my chest and abdomen! I did it! A burning in
my bosom!
Of course, I was curious, so I started asking more questions: the pull of actual divination was
just too irresistible.
🙏"Is Joseph Smith the true prophet?" ❤️🔥 Burning in the bosom! It's True!
🙏 "Did Jesus find the lost tribes of Israel here in the Americas after his resurrection?"
❤️🔥 Burning in the bosom! It's True!
🙏 "Is the Book of Mormon a True and Complete Record of that journey?" ❤️🔥 Burning in the
bosom! It's True!
🙏 "Am I actually an alien left on Earth by accident, which is why I feel so alone and
disconnected?" ❤️🔥 Burning in the bosom! It's True!
Wait…
Well that seemed to be a little silly. I knew I wasn't actually an alien, it was just a fantasy.
Maybe the burning was a leftover sensation from all the other true things. That must be it; like
a plate that's still hot from the microwave. Even if I put cold food on the plate, the plate will
still be hot, so that's all it is, right? I should let my bosom cool off overnight. Try again
tomorrow.
So I did. And it turned out, anything I asked, if I just got into the "prayer mind" would
cause the same experience. No matter what I asked. No matter what I didn't ask, but just
focused on (like Tina's bra that she left in the back of our car when my family and six other
families carpooled and went on a swimming trip as a group after school one day), it was all "Burning
In The Bosom" response.
This was the advent of the internet, before everyone had it, before every home even had a computer
and DVDs were still a big deal, the next wave of future technology. I went to the library, used
Netscape Navigator to search for things on Yahoo, and .edu web addresses were still for legitimate
universities, and usually had the best resources.
It turned out that the physical side-effects of prayer and meditation were fairly well known.
Although certain studies which would focus on brainwave recordings of such states were still some
time away, many people had already documented hypnogogic states and induced degrees of consciousness
through ritualistic mental practices. In plain terms, if you sat quietly in a calm, quiet
environment, reduced external stimulus, and focused internally on a singular thought (mantras, for
example), the swimmy, buzzing sensation would rise up in almost anyone. Though individuals might
describe the state slightly differently, they mostly shared similar physiological responses.
Prayer is basically self-hypnosis, which can have very beneficial effects on the individual, such
as a reduction in stress hormones, the release of neurochemical strings which cause feelings of
happiness, content, or other benevolent experiences.
But as the old meme goes, prayer is like masturbation: it feels good for the person doing it, but
does nothing for the person they're thinking of.
Of course, I have rational reasons for thinking prayer is counter to Xianity's own narrative: you're
telling me that your infallible, perfect creator god with an exact plan for the entire universe,
including each individual, will listen to your prayer, and change those plans? Seems like a
contradiction to the immutable god proposition.
There's also the injustice of a prayer system: so when the pastor's wife gets cancer, and he mentions
it at church, and everyone prays for her, the god should hear those prayers and show mercy to the
stricken wife, either reducing her pain or curing her or somehow alleviating the situation? What about
the homeless vet who has cancer that nobody is praying for? He gets no help, no mercy or compassion
from God because, sorry, he didn't have a 250-person church prayer group to send telepathic signals
to the invisible ruler of all existence on your behalf? The infant stricken with unstoppable parasites
which will burrow into the child's eyes and blind them, or the disease which will cripple her brother,
making him unable to walk, or the pestilence which will strike their crops, causing starvation for
some, malnourishment (and the host of diseases that can lead to), because they don't have enough
missionaries to pray over their huts for them?
Either that god is a horrible, cruel, sadistic tyrant, or it's indifferent. Either way, the prayers
are either unjust or useless. I couldn't accept a god like that if I could believe.
Sorry, I'm back on the prayer thing.
And, as you can see, I ended up spinning into the prayer issue, instead of sticking with the information
regarding how Xians use self-centering languages and worldviews. Anyway, that’s what I’ve got for this
page right now.
Eric the God-Eating Magic Penguin
Eric the God-Eating Magic Penguin is undetectable because of his powerful magic,
exists outside space and time, in the same way as gods, and he eats gods, removing
them from any existence. There's no way to disprove Eric, so he must be real. And
if he's real, all other gods are, perforce, nonexistent (Eric ate them), ergo there
are no gods, because of Eric.
I believe Eric was posited in response to the unfalsifiable assertions of
religious people who think atheists have to disprove their untestable claims of
a supernatural being outside time and space which cannot be conclusively shown
to exist. The shifting of the burden of proof from the claimants (theists
claiming a god exists) to the opposing view (atheists) is invalid. It's not my
job to prove theists wrong. They're making the claim, they are the ones who must
illustrate its validity. Since they cannot, they instead attempt to assert that
because atheists can't *disprove* their claim, the claim must be true; very poor
"logic".
So Eric is the reversal of that argument to illustrate its fallacious nature.
Since theists cannot disprove Eric, then he must be real. Since his nature is
to eat gods, he must have eaten all the gods. Because those gods no longer
exist, then no theistic claims are valid, lacking any gods upon which they
depend.
If, however, a theist could possibly find a way to disprove Eric, then the
exact same disproof methodology will be applied to disprove their own god.
