Even At 80 Mom Continues To Impress Me

 

It's early Sunday morning and I just get off the phone from talking to Mom. Saturdays and Sundays are her days to be busy in church-related activities. She was calling to let me know that she was running late to her appointments and to assure me that despite the fact the rain and dampness of yesterday has given way to significantly cooler temps this morning (which greatly affects to her major health problems, arthritis and COD), she is fine (all things considered) and she didn't want me to worry if she was late about calling to let me know she had arrived at her destination.

 

But during our conversation she related an interesting story that happened yesterday while she was working with a a preacher friend of hers and his wife. The preacher (a divine-healing believing holiness preacher) noticing her shortness of breath, slowness of movement, and the fact that she was about to lose her voice, told her he was going to pray for her. That's not unusual for people of that particular strand of faith.

 

What did interest me was mom's reaction. She told me explained to her preacher friend that, yes, by all means he should pray for her. Still, she said, nature would have to work its course. She told him she of course believes in prayer and felt that God could touch her, but it would likely be over time rather than instantaneously. Because, she said, we are subject to the laws of nature too, and just as we all must die someday in accordance with Nature's Law, infirmities follow a natural course as well.

 

Now that impressed me. And it seems to signal a change of thought with her regarding prayer. At least I can say that when I was a child and my family were immersed in Pentecostal Churchianity such talk would have been thought to display a distinct lack of faith.  

 

During the past three years that my mom has been almost next door to me, we have held many conversations and exchanged ideas about religion and prayer. I like to think that maybe I have been instrumental in helping her modify some of her more crude or extreme beliefs.

 

I know after one extended discussion about prayer I lent her my copy of Jim Carrey's Bruce Almighty. I was impressed with the way Carrey's character, when given a portion of God's power, brought about some very negative results through an unwise misuse of it. For example, when he pulled the moon closer to enhance the romantic mood he was setting up for an evening with his girlfriend it had very bad unintended side-effects. The next day he was greeted by reports of tsunamis caused by the unusual moon activity of the night before. Did that not throw some light on how God should deal with our more misguided prayers? If not, surely the scene where Bruce (Carrey), in a frantic effort to catch up on the huge backlog of prayers, decides to just answer "yes" to all of them rather than considering the merits of each, with again unintended circumstances developing. Everyone won the lottery, just as they were praying to have happen, but because everyone did win, the prize was a pittance once divided among all the winners. 

 

My mother fell in love with that movie and told me she watched it over and over, laughing out loud every time, before she returned it to me. Then she went to a nearby used book store and bought a copy for herself. I was afraid my main intent in turning her on to that movie had been lost in the sheer comedy of it.

 

The subject of prayer is a troublesome one for me. It was a childhood habit that I suppose I never really outgrew. During the coldest days of the season of my unbelief I pretty much quit praying - sort of. I would find myself talking out loud, usually grumbling about how sucky the world and life in it seemed to be so much of the time. I didn't then see those as prayers because I had lost faith in a God who could hear prayers and wasn't asking for a damned thing. But maybe those "why, God why?" prayers showed more faith than the God-as-genii prayers that I used to pray, knowing full well I was being selfish and frivolous.

 

I've noticed Mom doesn't tell me as often as she used to that she is praying for me. More often she just reminds me that she is "in my corner." I know she still does pray for me, but I'm sure those aren't prayers that I win the lottery and such. Mature faith doesn't obsess with God protecting us from the hardships of life which are common to all humans. I think Mom is as faith-full as ever. But I do notice a certain maturity to her thought. Perhaps I deserve no credit at all for that. Perhaps the years of living have done more to ground her faith in reality. Either way, she impresses me still. And I still appreciate her prayers as the expression of love and concern that they are. 

Just Try It Sometime

 

My dribbles have dribbled to a stop recently. I've been busy catching up on some reading projects that were piling up. Among the things I have been looking at are snatches of the everlasting debate between those who believe in some form of belief in a deeper reality (gods or religion) and those who don't. I also have still tried to keep up with my friends with blogs who often do battle in that arena.

 

I still stand by what I said in my last post. The most outspoken folks in this debate seem to have very emotional reasons for their belief, and argue accordingly, even though they want to appeal to reason. We look at the same evidence and arrive at opposite views of whether life is an accident or intentional.

 

During the past several days I've made a deliberate effort to clear my mind and be objective as I read every piece - pro and con - on the religion question. I doubt we can do much more than try. As I would read I would feel certain emotional stirrings. For example, when I read a friend's recent post about the problem of evil I felt those old emotions of mine that made me first really doubt God: How can God "stand by" and watch horrible things happen to his creatures? Also I've been following another blog where an atheist friend seems to have become hung up arguing with one of his Christian commenters, and while I found myself somewhat sympathetic to his view I also found myself totally turned off by his arrogant attitude towards her.

 

Talk reason all we want, it seems the debate can't be engaged without the appeal to emotions popping up. Logic always seems to follow the heart.

 

I'm moved by those who have had bad experiences with religion. My experience was more varied, with bad things that didn't serve me well as I was coming of age and trying to figure things out, but at the same time my religious upbringing had some strong points that I've grown to miss. I can't ignore the majority of folks who seem to be comforted, inspired, even fortified by their religious faith. But is any of this the stuff of serious argumentation?

 

One of the most difficult things we can attempt to do is step outside the confines of our mindset and give an unbiased hearing to someone who holds an opposing view. How difficult it is to trudge again through the muck we consider ourselves already to have already slogged through and put behind us in order to go there yet again. Perhaps most are unwilling to even try. 

 

The thick philosophical tomes investigating the God question are dry and wearisome to work through. It is also boresome to tears sometimes to hear nonbelievers stretching religious metaphor (Father, Mother, Friend, etc.) to the breaking point while their religious opponents attempt to skip breezily over the difficulties of belief with near-meaningless cliches ("it's a divine mystery," "God's ways are not our ways," etc.).

 

But try it sometime. Try to step beyond the confines of your bias and attempt to listen without engaging your emotions. See how difficult it is. Then understand why believers and nonbelievers usually end up talking past one another and being very unkind in the process. 

 

Is this religious thing a debate worth having? I doubt it.

Belief And Unbelief: Matters Of The Heart?

 

Not to start with a trite cliche, but ... some of my best friends are atheists. It really is true, and has been for a long time - back to my college days, actually. There was a time in my life, back when I was a fundamentalist Christian, that that would not and could not have been the case. But as I matured and allowed myself to explore worldviews besides my own, I actually came to respect thoughtful atheists. 

 

Early on I read Ingersoll and was greatly impressed. Ingersoll was technically an agnostic, but he did not believe in God. Then I found myself almost as greatly impressed by the writings of Bertrand Russell and Antony Flew. 

 

Later I was a coworker and then became a close friend with an atheist. We not only debated theology over beer on the weekends, he also introduced me to some of the intricacies of quantum physics. At this time I was no longer a fundamentalist, but a Deist. He tried but never converted me to atheism.

 

I say all the above to say this: I like sincere atheists and have been greatly influenced by atheology. Atheists can help those of us who still feel the pull (seduction, some of them would say) of the spiritual worldiew. Atheists, I believe, have helped highlight areas of theology that need more thought and better expression.

 

Then there is the less helpful variety, the arrogant mocker who patronizes the rest of us by suggesting we just haven't quite outgrown our childhood and need of invisible friends. Ah well, if it makes them feel better....

 

While reading a newspaper article about an atheist billboard that, as it always does, created some controversy and discussion, I noticed one of the less helpful type of atheists posted the following:

 

YAY, finally some real advise (sic). God was only created because the normal human being was so scared at the thought of living their life "alone" they created "god" as well as all mythology but decide god was more feasible to believe so it stayed. If you actually took time to do some ACTUAL research, you would be surprised about a lot of things you find out about what you think you know.

 

I might suggest that commenter should take his own advice. It is possible he might not know as much as he thinks he knows either.  

 

It seems to me, after years and years of thinking about the merits of the God question both pro and con, that a humble agnosticism is more in order. I believe our feelings about God and spirituality are highly personal, that is we believe or disbelieve in a spiritual worldview primarily for emotional reasons. And then we seek out the arguments that best support our bias.

 

I find myself cornered into the position of being an agnostic believer. Of course I recognize the strengths of the atheist position. But I don't find them overly convincing. More to the point, they don't jibe with my intuition and deeper feelings. Beyond that admission, I think that all we have emotional reasons for following or dismissing altogether a spiritual worldview. I therefore think it absurd to write off all nonbelievers as wicked or all believers as stupid and childish as is so often done.

A Bloodthirsty God?

Perhaps this is an idea whose time has come. Skeptic author Steve Wells (who is also author of The Annotated Skeptic's Bible) has taken the trouble to calculate the exact number of people God either killed or ordered killed (according to the Bible) in his latest book, Drunk with Blood: God's Killings in the Bible. On the back cover of his book he gives in chart form the tally as 2,476, 633. His chart also attributes 10 deaths to Satan, just by way of comparison.

 

According to a recent op-ed in The Guardian by Rebecca Sabastio, which was the first I had ever heard of this book, "the number is much higher - 25 million people - when estimates in which no number is are stated are tallied...."

 

The author's website advertises his newest book with teasers such as:

Did you know, for example, that God:

Burned complainers to death, forced the survivors to eat quail until it literally came out their noses, sent "fiery serpents" to bite people for complaining about the lack of food and water, and killed 14,700 for complaining about his killings?

Burned complainers to death, forced the survivors to eat quail until it literally came out their noses, sent "fiery serpents" to bite people for complaining about the lack of food and water, and killed 14,700 for complaining about his killings?

 

Helped Samson murder thirty men for their clothes, slaughter 1000 with the jawbone of an ass, and kill 3000 civilians in a a suicide terrorist attack?

 

Killed a man for trying to keep the ark of the covenant from falling and 50,070 for looking into the ark?

 

Killed 70,000 because David had a census that he (or Satan) told him to do?

 

Believe me, those are just a small sample of his examples So perhaps Rebecca Sabastio is justified in asking at the end of her editorial:

God is unquestionably bloodthirsty, so why is his character so revered? Is it because something in human psychology needs to exist in a state of constant fear? Or perhaps it is because the Bible verses that reveal God as the world’s most prolific mass murderer are conveniently ignored.

I vote for the latter. Most Bible believers are largely in the dark about these more shocking stories. But to the extent they are aware, say as with the popular tale of God's destruction of the ancient world in the days of Noah, they work from the notion that (1) God is just and incapable of doing wrong, and (2) God is master over his creation and therefore has the right to create and destroy life accordingly. But does that makes good sense of especially those last two items above (and others like them)?

Of course if one is not - as I am not - a believer in Biblical Innerrancy, or the idea that God literally wrote the Bible through men, the problem is easier to account for. In our day it is common to hear world leaders invoke God's name in their wars. It is still a common thing for religious leaders to attempt to tie natural disasters to God's anger at human behavior (although why Wall Street, Washington DC or sin-city Las Vegas seem to go unmolested is still hard to figure according to that logic). My belief is that the Bible says much more about the darkness of the human heart than it does about God's alleged bloodthirstiness. It was true back then and is true now. It is we who are bloodthirsty, and some people have few qualms about following or writing about a slayer-God.

I do have a problem with that idea of God. I have no desire to seek or worship a bloodthirsty God. At the same time I have a real problem with bloodthirsty humans, and it is they, I believe, who gave us the bloodthirsty God. Consequently, I don't feel the need to reconcile the bloodthirsty concept of God with that of a benevolent deity- I jettison the former without apology.

It seems to me that Steve Wells has performed a valuable service in writing this book and making it necessary for us to decide whether we should blindly defend tradition or work for compassion.