Easter mourning

People all around the world are celebrating Easter today. I am not. Easter is a vile little holiday wrapped up in a façade of pretty dresses and chocolate eggs and happy children playing games on the lawn, but at its putrescent core lies 20 centuries of exploitation and dishonesty. Here is a hard-core atheist’s perspective on this awful holy day.

I. The fact.

This is the season when our culture commemorates torture. A particularly callous sort of torture, too: a lazy and evil form of punishment that could be carried out en masse. Nail people up in intolerable postures and they inevitably and slowly die, no active, trained labor required—nail ’em and leave ’em, confident that they’ll suffer horribly and eventually expire.

We focus all our attention on one man who suffered this torment, and regard him as somehow special. The Roman Empire did this to tens of thousands at once, in mass spectacles of hideous punishment. Throughout human history, people have died ghastly, lingering deaths, often at the hands of other people, and it was not ennobling, and it is usually forgotten.

Look at that bloody figure wracked up on a cross, and we should all be reminded not of one man long ago who suffered, but that our nation tortures to the death other brown-skinned Middle Eastern people right now. How can we look at the Passion spectacles now and not feel a deep shame?

II. The lie.

At the heart of Christian belief is a lie: that this man was tortured to death long ago, and that afterwards he came back to life. Oh, and also that he wasn’t a man at all, but a god. There is no evidence for these claims that defy all reason and experience, but we’re asked merely to believe. To have faith. To trust the words of priests.

I refuse.

If a sacrifice is the centerpiece of our salvation, it makes no sense to call the brief troubling of an omnipotent being with a few nails a “sacrifice.” It was a man who died horribly, like many others. He didn’t come back.

Grieve. For he is not risen.

III. The false promise.

Christianity has taken the lie and amplified it millions-fold. If one man came back from the dead, why not everyone? It’s the wet dream of every snake-oil salesman, the ultimate con: an irresistible promise, made with no evidence whatsoever, with a payoff deferred to another world, another time…and the suckers line up in droves to pay up.

“You don’t have to die,” the priests wheedle, “you can live forever.”

How many millions have fallen for that tempting lie? How many have died? All of them. How many have seen the promise fulfilled? None of them.

The death cult flourishes in its denial of reality. The fleecing continues.

IV. The threat.

The promise of eternal life is not enough. We must also be browbeaten with threats of unearthly, unending torment if we don’t believe the lie.

It’s a culture that rewards the most extravagant of extortionists.

V. The hierarchy.

Millions of good, decent people will accept the promise and fear the threat; wishful thinking is no crime. They will make weekly, sometimes daily visits to their local cult office, they will freely donate money in trust to their local priest. Those who can’t visit, will write checks, even if their income is limited, and will send them off to the smiling pompadours on their television sets.

It’s a perfect system in which nice people make themselves exploitable, and those who are most deluded, most venal, most vehement in their pronunciation of the Big Lie are rewarded the most. The rot rises rapidly to the top.

Dobson, Falwell, Robertson, Haggard, Bakker, Roberts…how many can you name? This is a system where the worst represent all, the takers and liars and vermin reap the rewards, and the best labor and give, give, give, give.

VI. The theft.

I know how the believers will reply. They will say “Bach!” They will point to the Sistine Chapel. They will talk about human hope and beauty and art, and the patronage of the church.

And I will say that no gods had a hand in any of that. Those are human accomplishments, the work of the skilled and clever and good, with no divinity necessary. On top of the false promise and the threat, the religious add the crime of theft: they falsely appropriate our best works and shackle them in service to the lie.

And so it goes.

What to do.

Abandon the church. Take the money you were going to throw in the collection plate and donate it to a secular charity. Tell your priest to take a hike. Stay home; have a quiet day with your family. Think. Enjoy this world while you live in it.

This holiday has a longer tradition than the Christian church, and is associated with the return of Spring. So celebrate life. Go for a walk. Plant a tree. Read a good book. Have a conversation with someone. Write a poem, paint a picture.

The lesson you should learn is that torture doesn’t dissipate with a deity’s whim. Write your representative. March for peace. Write an angry blog entry. Yell at a Republican.

Whatever you do, wake up. Deny the lie.

PZ Myers: godless babykiller

Forgive me, for I am guilty of the sin of false pride. I’m wont to judge Christians by the worst of them, and in contrast, to regard atheism as the refuge of the more worthy. I am chastised by the existence of The Raving Atheist, however, who shows me that godlessness is not necessarily correlated with rationality. He’s a useful reminder that a reasonable philosophy is not a guarantor that one is on the path to a truth.

If you haven’t been following along, The Raving Atheist is definitely an atheist, but he’s also an odd duck who has gone a bit unhinged on a few subjects. He’s strongly anti-choice, believing that the individual is specified at the instant of conception, in an argument that parallels the idea of ensoulment…but isn’t. He’s an atheist, after all. He’s chummy with a very bizarre character, Dawn Eden, who thinks sex is icky and is even more loony about abortion. Lately, his arguments have taken an anti-feminist twist, and the quote of the day he’s got up right now from Jill of Feministe is deplorable in its use of the dishonest ellipsis.

[Read more…]

Blithering spiritualists

Palazzo has put me in a pissy mood, now. He’s mentioned those pompous god-botherers at the Templeton Foundation, who awarded 1.4 million dollars to that credulous gasbag, John Barrow.

When Selfish Gene author Richard Dawkins challenged physicist John Barrow on his formulation of the constants of nature at last summer’s Templeton-Cambridge Journalism Fellowship lectures, Barrow laughed and said, “You have a problem with these ideas, Richard, because you’re not really a scientist. You’re a biologist.”

For Barrow, biology is little more than a branch of natural history. “Biologists have a limited, intuitive understanding of complexity. They’re stuck with an inherited conflict from the 19th century, and are only interested in outcomes, in what wins out over others,” he adds. “But outcomes tell you almost nothing about the laws that govern the universe.” For physicists it is the laws of nature themselves that capture and structure the universe–and put brakes on it as well.

Yeah, and some physicists are little more than glorified numerologists.

[Read more…]

Good thing we’re moving to faith-based initiatives, huh?

After all, the churches are charitable institutions, with a higher calling to help the sick and weak in the name of a loving God. They have a role model in Jesus, who reached out to those rejected by society. Turn away the needy? That would be unchristian.

Unless, of course, the needy were some sick pervert. Then it’s OK to kick her to the door; in fact, you’re obligated to reject her, even if it costs you lots of money.

Read the charming story of faith-based discrimination in a Minnesota church. Trinity Lutheran Church had a sweet deal with county social services, getting remunerated for caring for disabled seniors, until the county pulled a fast one and tried to trick them into caring for a damned minion of the devil transsexual. They signed her up, showed her around, and then she mentioned that she’d had an operation, and the good reverend had to wield his deep personal knowledge of god’s mind to smack her down.

The church declined to accept her. It said its staff wasn’t trained to deal with such a person. It feared discomfort among members and other clients, not least over use of the bathroom. And it pointed to its own theological beliefs. What she has done, Maxfield said, runs totally “contrary to God’s revealed will.”

Hallelujah! And this is exactly why I will always oppose any attempt to draft the godly into the business of supporting the social safety net. It is this pretense of knowing the will of an invisible being, which they freely use to give their bigotry the deity’s imprimatur, which makes them untrustworthy. Anyone who makes untestable claims of a god’s will, claims that can’t be verified by anyone else, is suspect—it’s simply too convenient an out. And when it’s used to make an innocent suffer, it’s simply contemptible.

Godless physiology?

The “neurotheologist” Michael Persinger is a fellow with an interesting idea: that the sensation of god is a product of activity in the brain. He induces activity in the brain with electromagnetic fields, and some people feel a sense of oneness with the universe or that aliens are peering over their shoulder.

Richard Dawkins is an infamous atheist who needs no introduction here.

Put the two together, have Persinger strap his electromagnetic helmet on Dawkins’ head and stimulate the temporal lobes, the apparent seat of spiritual sensation, and what happens?

Nothing.

Horizon introduced Dr Persinger to one of Britain’s most renowned atheists, Prof Richard Dawkins. He agreed to try his techniques on Dawkins to see if he could give him a moment of religious feeling. During a session that lasted 40 minutes, Dawkins found that the magnetic fields around his temporal lobes affected his breathing and his limbs. He did not find god.

I guess some people are more resistant to the god delusion than others, even when spirituality is injected directly into their brains on a wire. It makes me wish I could try this gadget out.

(via Amused Muse)

In which I agree with Tom DeLay

Yes, it’s true: DeLay has said something with which I find myself in accord.

Last Tuesday Mr. DeLay spoke at “The War on Christians” conference during which he agreed with the central theme – that there is, indeed, a “war on Christians” in America today. He went on to say that America treats Christianity like a “second-rate superstition.”

I don’t agree with the first bit, of course: there is no “war on Christians”, although I think maybe there should be a rather more work on putting Christianity in its proper place (in the home and in people’s entirely personal beliefs, and out of government, the workplace, and public education). I am happy to see, though, that someone else has noticed that religious beliefs are just glorified superstitions.

There are important questions remaining. DeLay seems to be aware of a rating scale for superstitions with which I am unfamiliar. What distinguishes a second-rate from a first-rate superstition? Is the scale like the burn scale, where a third-rate superstition would be much, much worse than a first-rate superstition, or is it more embarrassing to believe in a first-rate superstition?

Working out the details of his scoring system for superstitions would be a good project for Mr DeLay in his retirement. I daresay he’d even be able to work on writing it up from a jail cell.