irritually

A blog about (ir)religion, ritual and so on …

Archive for the category “Atheism”

Atheists: Pope Francis Wants (to Work with) You!

As the Catholic News Service reports, Pope Francis delivered a homily this morning that went beyond ecumenism in affirming what appears to be a radical preference for works over faith.

“The Lord has redeemed us all with the blood of Christ, all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone,” he said. Some may ask, “‘Father, even the atheists?’ Them, too. Everyone.”

The commandment to do good and avoid evil is something that binds all human beings, he said, and it is “a beautiful path to peace.”

Noticing the good others do, affirming them and working with them promotes an encounter that is good for individuals and societies, he said. “Little by little we build that culture of encounter that we need so much.”

Someone can object, “‘But I don’t believe, Father, I’m an atheist.’ But do good and we’ll meet there,” he said.

While it was always clear that Francis, a Jesuit, was a proponent of the social gospel, reaching out directly to unbelievers like this in order to find common ground in good deeds is rare to say the least. Where will it lead? Is the Church ready for a sustained interfaith dialogue with groups that share it’s justice aims no matter how sincere those individuals may be in their unbelief? I’m willing to wait and see…

(Non)religion and Charity

homeless.atheism

The photo above was taken by a Reddit user who tells us that when he passed this homeless man, the man proclaimed: “The atheists are winning!” Since being posted on Reddit the photo has made modest rounds across various social media platforms even landing in a handful of blog posts. Some atheists, like Taslima Nasreen of Freethought Blogs, have been quick to use the photo as exemplary evidence of the supposedly unbiased nature of non-religious generosity. While she acknowledges the studies that show rather emphatically how religious people self-report more charitable giving that the non-religious do she also has a theory about why:

They do not help to really help others, they help others to help themselves. Mostly they donate money to build churches, mosques, temples, gurudwaras, pagodas, synagogues. They do not give a damn to the eradication of poverty programs. When atheists help, they help out of sympathy and solidarity, love and compassion. They do it to make the world a better place. They do not do it to go to heaven.

Now while it is true that studies have also shown a higher association between giving and compassion among the non-religious the reasons for this are far from clear, and certainly do not always or even usually come down to different understandings of otherworldly compensation. And in fact as James McGrath asserts the photo isn’t a particularly good measure of anything at all. It is actually a “Data Collection Fail:”

Is the photo a set up or something a homeless man really did? Did atheists and agnostics give more because they normally would or because of a desire to “win” in this competition? Did money move between baskets? Did the proportions change at different points during the day? How many people in each category passed by there? We simply don’t know what we would need to know in order to interpret the significance of the picture.

McGrath is right to point out that the photo is not a good source of data for a variety of reasons, some of which his questions clearly elucidate. But does that mean that the photo is useless to scholars who are interested in the intersection between religion and charity? I would argue that it  isn’t useless, and that it in fact points to a variety of unanswered questions.

By depicting hard currency in a context of actual giving the photo raises the question of how closely self-reported giving is reflected in actual practice. We know that (religious) Americans have a propensity to greatly exaggerate some activities that reflect outwardly upon how faithfully they are practicing religion, like going to church. Could religious Americans who are taught that charity is a virtue also be over-reporting their giving practices? Scholars were able to solve the church attendance puzzle by counting bodies and cars on Sunday morning, but actual giving is nearly impossible to measure. One would have to convince a blind sample of Americans to answer a battery of religion questions and then to release their tax-records. That doing so is unlikely is a understatement, but that doesn’t mean that keeping the question in mind is unproductive. While we should take the “data” provided by the photo with multiple grains of salt, we should also save some of those grains for times when we consume “data” that reflects self-reported measures of socially desirable behaviors, like giving to charity.

There are, of course, a variety of other questions that we could be asking ourselves in relation to religion and charitable giving. As I wrote last year, recent data from the Portraits of American Life Study (PALS) have shown that people who encounter personal financial hardships are increasingly likely to leave their religious communities. While personal stressors like a recent breakup or the death of a loved one actually bring people closer to those communities, financial hardships push individuals out. Why is that? Could this be partly because charitable giving is seen as a virtue; a virtue that those experiencing hardships can no longer even feign a connection to as such? What does this say about the culture of charity in some religious communities? Might there be a relationship between the Great Recession and the recent uptick in religious dissafiliation? These are the types of questions that remain unanswered and in my book this photo, despite being a shoddy piece of data, is a great reminder of how little we know and how much work is left to be done.

The New Atheism’s “Islamophobia” Problem

In case you missed it, the last week has seen the publication of article after article accusing New Atheists like Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins and perhaps most of all Sam Harris of expressing Islamophobic ideas. A week ago Nathan Lean of Salon penned, “Dawkins, Harris, Hitchens: New Atheists flirt with Islamophobia,” which was followed days later by Murtaza Hussain’s Aljazeera piece, “Scientific racism, militarism and the new atheism.” When Guardian editorialist Glenn Greenwald  tweeted a link to Hussain’s article Sam Harris started a heated exchange with him, inevitably leading to Greenwald’s own “Sam Harris, the New Atheists, and anti-Muslim animus.” As one might expect Harris and other prominent atheist activists (some self-identified New Atheists and some not) have taken issue with various aspects of these accusations.

So who’s right? I’ll let you be the judge of that, because what I want to point to isn’t the truth(s) behind these various claims and counterclaims but the nature of the very discourses that contain them, which is warlike. These are the kinds of discourses that take place between combatants who wear brightly colored ID badges at times of their own choosing, but even more often by edict of the enemy. Lean, Hussain and Greenwald are quick to point out (perhaps quite accurately) that at the heart of the New Atheist critique of Islam is an unjust essentialism that veers too easily into Islamophobia and racism. But what of their own expositions, do they not also essentialize? It is clear that part of the work accomplished by these accusations, much like the work accomplished by the writings of those they accuse, is the performance of difference. And where do such performances lead?

In the middle of this furor anthropologist Tanya Lurhmann published a completely unrelated opinion piece in the New York Times, “How Skeptics and Believers Can Connect,” which presciently speaks to that very question:

Perhaps there is hope. Good marriages work because couples learn to repair, rather than escalate, their conflicts. Same-sex marriage and abortion should not be approached by drawing a line in the sand and demonizing everyone on the other side. We need to recognize something of what we share, and to carry on a conversation — and if we can keep the conversation going, we will, however slowly, move forward.

If we can’t, we’re in real trouble.

It would appear that this week’s back and forth between New Atheists and their critics suggests that we’re “in real trouble,” and that we’ll remain so until the discursive combatants are willing to find ways to actually “connect” with one another as something more than mere foes. Of course applying similar insights to the relationship between atheists and Muslims isn’t exactly novel. For instance just months ago, in Religion Dispatches, atheist interfaith activist Chris Stedman expressed the admonition that “Atheists Ignore Islamophobia at their Peril.” But isn’t there a larger collective peril we all move towards when any number of us fail to connect, whether those missed connections are between socially marginalized atheists and Muslims or between multiculturally thinking journalists and anti-religious celebrity atheists?

Nonreligion and the Secular at the AAR 2012

Today the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life released a new report about “‘Nones’ on the Rise,” by which they mean the still steady trend of religious disaffiliation in the United States. In conjunction with this PBS has also announced the three part miniseries, “None of the Above: The Rise of the Religiously Unaffiliated,” to start airing on October 12th. These are exciting announcements for those of us who conduct research in the burgeoning field of “nonreligion,” a field that has been growing immensely in the last few years. So this is a perfect opportunity to promote one aspect of that growth, the inroads nonreligion and the secular have been making into the academic study of religion, here in the United States.

In advance of this year’s American Academy of Religion annual meeting I compiled a conference guide of all the sessions and individual papers that deal with some aspect of “the secular” (nonreligion, irreligion, secularism, unbelief, etc.). A PDF of the guide can be accessed through the Nonreligion and Secularity Research Network where future guides like it, also covering other large conferences, will be published from here on out. On this guide you’ll find a plethora of presentations on secularism, atheism, the “post-secular,” skepticism and so on, but there is one session in this mix that I would like to shamelessly promote above all the rest:

Exploratory Sessions (A18-232)

Per Smith, Boston University, Presiding
Theme: Irreligion, Secularism and Social Change
Sunday – 1:00 PM – 2:30 PM

Scholars of religion from a variety of disciplines are increasingly focusing their attention on the relationship between the religious and the secular. So what would a sustained discussion of “the secular” look like within the American Academy of Religion; and moreover, how would such a discussion be relevant to religious studies? This exploratory session seeks to provide modest answers to those questions by example. On the heels of the year of the protestor, the session explores how “the secular” is implicated in and affected by social transformations. How did social change make the secular possible? How have the demands of 20th century social movements shaped emergent forms of secularism? How do contemporary social movements provide fertile soil for secular theologies of resistance? And how are contemporary irreligious identities evolving within a social context that considers them deviant?

Daniel Silliman, University of Heidelberg
  The Possibility of Secularity and the Material History of Fiction
Petra Klug, University of Leipzig
  The Dynamics of Standardisation and Deviance using the Way U.S. Society deals with Atheists as an Example
Jordan Miller, Salve Regina University
   Occupying Absence: Political Resistance and Secular Theology

Responding:
Jonathan VanAntwerpen, Social Science Research Council

This particular session was put together by a few of us in the hope that we might carve out a more permanent space for discussions at the AAR of how “the secular” relates to the religious. While of course I think everyone ought to be there :-) , those who are interested in furthering such a discussion specifically should make sure to join us at this session. Please also help us by spreading the word to colleagues you think might be interested and don’t forget to share the conference guide with them, which I will link again below. Thanks!

NONRELIGION AND THE SECULAR AT THE AAR 2012

Atheism+, Sectarianism and the Venn Diagram

“Someone who resembles us in so many ways and differs from us in but one characteristic threatens us much more than the totally other or alien.” – Rethinking Pluralism

A couple of days ago I wrote about how the emerging Atheism+ movement appears to be trying to dissociate itself from the “near other,” and suggested that this particular form of othering sits at the heart of sectarianism. Since then the online atheist community has generated a lot of discussion over what Atheism+ actually is and how productive/unproductive the methods employed by it’s promoters/objectors have been. When I suggested that Atheism+ is a sectarian movement I came to that conclusion largely because of the practices employed by its promoters. In the linked post I wrote:

[Atheism+] seeks to splinter atheism into two groups, one of which is defined more precisely in a manner that excludes the other. That it does so while championing modern values like “diversity” doesn’t change those facts either. Jen’s original post on Atheism+ is quite telling in this regard because it shows a narrowing, not a widening of her new community. You have to fit all three criteria (atheism+humanism+skepticism) to be included, and not just any one of them. Of course what counts as fitting the criteria is itself another narrowing, and so on.

I should note that I mixed up Jen’s original post in the above observation with her explanation of why Atheism+ isn’t the same as humanism. Regardless, I describe her process correctly as a narrowing process, one of honing in on Atheism+ by excluding other parts of the Atheist movement, of humanism, and of skepticism. In practice, Richard Carrier’s post on Atheism+ appeared to employ even more aggressive tactics to further draw firm lines in the sand between what the movement includes and excludes. In a response to a comment on my blog I wrote about Carrier’s post:

It is emblematic (much more so than Jen’s post in fact) of the process undertaken to splinter the movement and to draw very firm boundaries around Atheism+. The example you point to is one of many in the post and in Richard’s comments that all do the same thing – they perform difference, they “other.”

While it seems that some in the movement are disavowing themselves from Richard’s tactics, none of the movement’s supporters appear to have a problem with their effects, perhaps because as I’ve argued already, splintering, separating, narrowing, distancing, “othering” etc. is what the movement actively seeks to do. In my initial post I didn’t get into much depth about what the process of narrowing suggests about Atheism+, but because of the recent and fortuitous creation of a visual explanation of the movement by Free Thought Blogger Jason Thibeault I’ve been given an excellent opportunity to do so. Jason’s Venn diagrams offer a clear depiction of “narrowing,” and more specifically of defining oneself as not only different, but also more pure than the “near other.” This is what sectarian movements usually do by the way. I’ll skip through the various stages of explanation Jason covers (but you can read them on his blog). Here’s the Venn diagram that covers what we need to know:

You have to look carefully to make out that the most primary level of separation is between “Atheists” and the “Religious.” In other words those circles do not overlap. Oddly, Jason recognizes that the logical opposition is actually between atheists and “theists” and says: “Presume that this does not include religious buddhists for the time being — let’s say ‘religious’ is shorthand for ‘theists’.” A lot more than nontheistic Buddhism is elided by this move, yet inexactness isn’t what makes it interesting. It is notable because by framing the opposition as one against “religion” in totality Jason places himself in the anti-theist, anti-religious discourses of the New Atheism and related contemporary movements. This is important to keep in mind because (secular) Humanism does not tend to be anti-religious in this manner, and in fact following the lead of related movements like Ethical Culture, (secular) Humanism at first conceived of itself as a non-theistic “religion” (in 1933, in the Humanist Manifesto I). It is important to note that (secular) Humanism no longer uses that terminology, but that it remains a descendent of this legacy is certain.

While not overlapping with each other atheists and the religious each overlap with humanism and social justice advocacy. One can be either an atheist or a religious social justice advocate and/or humanist in other words. OK, other than quibbling with Jason’s understanding of Humanism and religion that sounds about right. Of course if you are an atheist, humanist or a religious person you can also be a “scumbag, privilege defender, misogynist, antifeminist, anti-gay, bigot,” person “who hates social justice causes,” or otherwise a “miscreant.” In other words there are bad people who are atheists, humanists or religious. No argument with that either, because there most likely are such people in all communities. But this is where one ought to pause for a second, because you apparently cannot be a bad person if you are also a social justice advocate (notice how the big, bad red circles don’t overlap with social justice advocacy). Does this mean that advocating for social justice is always a sincere act? It certainly seems that way. (Secular) Humanism, as defined by the three manifestos, clearly aligns itself with the aims of social justice, so in order to be this type of bad person and a (secular) Humanist one would have to be insincere, a hypocrite or otherwise someone who claims an identity they do not uphold in action. Jason’s chart is emphatic about the possibility that such a person might exist.

So why then can’t someone promote social justice and be insincere, a hypocrite or otherwise someone who claims an identity they do not uphold in action? The only answer I can fathom has to do with where Atheism plus finds itself on the chart. Have a look, because Atheism+ also escapes the evils of bad personhood in entirety as a result of the fact that social justice advocates do. You cannot be an A+ and a bad person. This is how A+ differentiates itself from Humanism most clearly, according to the proponents of A+. Remember Jen’s tweet about how she’s also critical of “smug humanists?” It’s because (secular) Humanists may often be decent people, but they are not infallible. Atheism plussers though? Jason adds another set of circles to the Venn diagram to include loudmouths (not depicted above see his post). Atheim plussers can be loudmouths, so we know they aren’t completely infallible, but does being a loudmouth make you a bad person? It doesn’t seem that way, and as we know Atheism plussers cannot suffer from the deep kind of human stain that the other groups can. They cannot be bigots, misogynists, etc. So in the end that’s where the narrowing exercise goes. According to proponents like Jen and Jason, Atheism plussers are different from all the other groups of people they are related to by being more authentic and pure in their goodness. They not only talk the talk, or identify with traditions of justice, they are completely sincere in doing so.

So where does that leave us in our analysis? The drive to not only differentiate oneself from others, but to do so around a claim of greater purity to the ideal that is shared by those others is also a hallmark of sectarianism. It is no coincidence perhaps that, Robert Weller and Adam Seligman, our two authors from the last post, also link religious fundamentalist movements to sincerity as an overarching principle of differentiation in a previous book called, Ritual and its Consequences. Now I’m not saying that A+ is, or is largely like, a fundamentalist movement. Such a comparison would be unfair and inaccurate on many levels. Yet what A+ shares with these movements is the sectarian impulse to define themselves out of the larger tradition based on purity and authenticity, or so it still seems at least in the words (and drawings) of their spokesmen and women.

These Venn diagrams were intended to clarify the picture of where A+ was located in the larger social world. What they have clarified instead, perhaps, is how A+ defines the social world, and their own supposedly unique place within it. I also think there are differences between A+ and Humanism, but they most prominently go back to the anti-theism, anti-religion attitudes I mentioned earlier and not “justice purity.” Atheism plussers tend to be more anti-religious than Humanist do. The distinction also, of course comes down to the quest for purity itself. It’s not like Humanism has never wrestled with the movement’s soul over the years, but in its current manifestation I certainly cannot make out this type of sectarian impulse.

Secular Sectarians?: Atheism+ and the “Near Other”

“Someone who resembles us in so many ways and differs from us in but one characteristic threatens us much more than the totally other or alien.” – Rethinking Pluralism

The online atheist community is abuzz over a new sub-movement being pushed from some corners called Atheism+ Here is the genesis of the idea, its initial elaboration and it’s call to arms from the Blag Hag blog.  Jen McCreight, the author of Blag Hag, summed the new movement up succinctly as follows:

Atheists plus we care about social justice,
Atheists plus we support women’s rights,
Atheists plus we protest racism,
Atheists plus we fight homophobia and transphobia,
Atheists plus we use critical thinking and skepticism.

In other words Atheism+  wants atheists go beyond mere unbelief to proactively engage a variety of ethical issues. Some commentators were quick to suggest that this sounded an awful lot like secular humanism, and if one focuses on the five points above that would certainly appear to be the case. While Jen accepts that there is a great deal of overlap, she emphatically rejects the idea that Atheism+ is a repackaged humanism. As she puts it: “Not all humanists are atheists or skeptical, not all skeptics are atheists or humanists, not all atheists are humanists or skeptics…but I want to bring it all together.” In other words the boundaries around Atheism+ are much more narrowly conceived than those around mere humanism, which could include non-skeptics, and perhaps most troubling to her and other supporters of the new movement, theists. But there is more to it than that.

Jen goes on to complain that humanists aren’t feminist enough for Atheism+ either. Just after discussing their lack of restrictions around skepticism and atheism, she writes: “And hell, not all humanists are progressive – you don’t know how many times I’ve had humanists yell at me for calling myself a ‘feminist’ instead of a ‘humanist’ because what feminism really means is hating men.” In fact this appears to be a significant symbolic sticking point for her differentiating exercise. Here’s a tweet she also made around that time.

There is of course a significant back-story to Atheism+ involving the blog network Jen writes for, Free Thought Blogs, and an internal fight in the atheist community over feminism and sexual harassment. I do not have time to recount it, but here’s a good place to start. The long and the short of it is that feminism matters to Atheism+ and it matters therefore to how they define themselves against plain old atheism and against plain old humanism. The reason I included the tweet, however, was because of its tone more than it’s content. It is a loud, pointed distancing from the humanist movement. It’s the way you draw any line in the sand worth drawing, visibly.

When the idea was brewing, in the pre-Atheism+ post linked above, Jen wrote equally vividly about lines in the sand and who should be on what side of those lines.

want Deep Rifts…I want the misogynists, racists, homophobes, transphobes, and downright trolls out of the movement for the same reason I wouldn’t invite them over for dinner or to play Mario Kart: because they’re not good people.

This might not sound particularly crazy. After all what liberal minded person wants bigots and internet trolls rolled up into their social identity? But the fact is that a lot of people who may not seem like bigots and internet trolls have disagreed vehemently with the Atheism+ crowd and have been rolled up into that category. And as we’ve seen even mainstream humanists, are being “othered,” on the basis that they don’t embody all that the new movement stands for. In other words even humanists find themselves with the so called bigots and the internet trolls, on the other side of the “Deep Rift.”

Yet while Atheism+ supporters seem intent on making feminism a core principle defining their movement other feminist atheists who are a bit critical, like Libby Ann feel that the main difference between Atheism+ and Humanism, revolves around unbelief. As Jen herself put it, “[n]ot all humanists are atheists.” While secular humanists may feel that religion can be the cause of problems and that not believing in a deity is a good thing, they do not consider atheism to be the core defining who they are, and they are rarely  anti-religious. Why? Because human equality and social justice is their primary, and not secondary concern. As Libby Ann writes: “The way I see it, it doesn’t take atheism to eliminate sexism and homophobia, and it doesn’t take religion either. It takes people.”

So what then of these differences and of the active work being done by Atheism+ to use difference to draw lines in the sand between themselves and those who they otherwise share so much with? Robert Weller and Adam Seligman have some interesting insights on this type of activity, via Sigmund Freud:*

Someone who resembles us in so many ways and differs from us in but one characteristic threatens us much more than the totally other or alien. That distant other’s strangeness may pose a physical danger, but no threat to self-conceptions and cognitive worlds. The very difference of the ‘near other,’ however, poses a continual question to our own sense of self in the familiarity and sameness of our shared traits.

Is that what is happening in this instance? And if it is what does it say about sectarianism more generally? Before anyone jumps down my throat for using a term that is usually applied to religious groups, consider that this activity is by definition sectarian. It seeks to splinter atheism into two groups, one of which is defined more precisely in a manner that excludes the other. That it does so while championing modern values like “diversity” doesn’t change those facts either. Jen’s original post on Atheism+ is quite telling in this regard because it shows a narrowing, not a widening of her new community. You have to fit all three criteria (atheism+humanism+skepticism) to be included, and not just any one of them. Of course what counts as fitting the criteria is itself another narrowing, and so on. Coming back to Seligman and Weller’s point then, is this human struggle with self-definition which looks to drawing lines between oneself and the near other directly related to sectarianism? Is sectarianism partly the result of a discomfort with the kind of difference that forces us to question our own identities because it exists in a space we otherwise call home?  These are interesting questions to ponder generally, but also more specifically in terms of what happens with Atheism+ and future secular splinter movements, because as the sheer numbers of self-professed “secular” individuals grow we’re bound to see more of them.

*Seligman, Adam and Weller, Robert. 2012. Rethinking Pluralism: Ritual Experience and Ambiguity. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 23-24

Finding God while Dying: The Implications of a Persistent Christian Meme

While doing some archival research through the America’s Historical Newspaper’s database I stumbled upon a story from 1752, about the French materialist Julien Offray de La Mettrie’s supposed deathbed conversion from atheism to Christianity:

Extract of a Letter from London, dated March 2, 1752.

Lately died at Berlin Mr. La Mettrie, a learned Frenchman, whose Death was remarkable: He was a professed Atheist, and amongst other Things, wrote and published a Book, entitled, L’Homme Machine, that is, Man a Machine; but when he was upon the Brink of Death, he was made truly sensible of the Existence of a God, whom he had highly offended, and to whom he was going to give an Account; wherefore he greatly lamented his publishing such abominable Stuff, even against his better Knowledge and Conscience in order to gain a great Name of Men. He was sorry for nothing so much, as that it was not in his Power to recal the Offence he had thereby given, and he gave up the Ghost with these Words: Mon Dieu! s’ il est possible, qu’ il y ait quelque Esperance de Pardon pour un si grand Pecheur tel que moe, je vous en supplie, &c. That is, My God! if it be possible that there may be yet any Hope of Pardon for the so great a Sinner as I am, I supplicate you for it…

New-York Mercury, Dec. 25th, 1752

This anonymous letter extract was printed in more than one Colonial era publication, a good year after La Mettrie’s death on November, 11th 1751.  But to what purpose? According to Aram Vartanian, La Mettrie’s treatise against theism,  L’Homme Machine, was “perhaps the most heartily condemned work in an age that saw the keenest competition for such honors.”* In fact La Mettrie died in Berlin because he was so reviled by the Church (and other French Enlightenment thinkers) that he had been forced into exile. So if someone of his stature were to have recanted unbelief on his death bed it would have been a pretty big deal, to say the least. Perhaps it is no surprise then that the New-York Mercury decided to publish the letter on Christmas Day; to remind good God fearing Christians that even atheists like La Mettrie inevitably succumbed to the power of the Lord.

It struck me  when I found this story that the notion of an atheist accepting God while nearing death is not a new one. In fact it appears to have existed as long as open, self-professed atheism has in the West and in fact it is still common today for people to associate religiosity in late life with the  fear of death and what may lie beyond. Is that what happened to La Mettrie? Not exactly, because as Vartanian points out  the story in the anonymous letter simply wasn’t true:

But these must surely be dismissed as pious fabrications, for Fredrick II made a point of finding out just how the philosophe had fared in exremis, and only on being assured that he had met with an honorable end did His Majesty deign to compose personally the Eloge de La Mettrie and have it read before the Berlin Academy.*

Historians note that Fredrick the Great not only gave the aforementioned public eulogy but that he also penned a private letter in which he was less generous with La Mettrie’s abilities as a scholar, but nevertheless steadfast in his view of La Mettrie as a staunch materialist. So if La Mettrie didn’t convert on his deathbed how often have unbelievers in the Christian God actually found their way to faith  before passing?

This is a difficult question to answer outright but two related points are clear. The first is that the meme of deathbed conversion to Christianity is as old as the New Testament. The Gospel of Luke, for instance, contains the story of the two thieves who were crucified next to Jesus. While one of them mocks Jesus for not saving himself (since he claimed to be the messiah), the other rebukes the first  and asks Jesus to remember him in heaven. The other point, however, is that claims of death bed conversions, particularly those from unbelief to Christian piety, are often contested. It was widely rumored, for instance, that Charles Darwin had turned towards God at the end of his life, even supposedly questioning his own theories of evolution. However, Darwin’s children, who were present at his death denounced the source of the rumor, one Lady Hope, as a liar.

It seems that despite the lack of convincing evidence, the idea of an atheist converting to Christianity when faced with death fits so neatly into a Christian, and particularly Protestant, worldview that Americans from the Colonial era onward came to expect it. It is no surprise then that Courtlandt Palmer’s dying declaration, in 1888, addressed the idea directly: “The general impression is that a Freethinker is afraid of death. One and all of you can tell the whole world that you have seen one die without the least fear of a hereafter.” That the New York Times decided to print the dying refutation is also meaningful for the very same reason.

I want to focus here on the notion that this expectation fits particularly well into a Protestant worldview, because as such it has implications not only to how we think of deathbed conversion narratives but also to how we think of religious conversion more generally, and particularly late in life. It is hard to argue that once someone has “found God,” their faith has probably strengthened and their beliefs have most likely changed. It is likewise logical to consider the act of “finding God” a mental one.  However, the implication of the deathbed conversion narrative is that the entire process is predominantly caused by belief, and that is what I think we ought to be skeptical of.  Do the elderly really find God because of the idea of impending death? It is just as likely, or perhaps much more likely, that they are attracted by the sociability inherent in congregating because they have retired from their working communities and have begun to lose members of their intimate circles. Belief strengthening may then follow naturally from continued engagement with a religious community. Wouldn’t this also help to explain why people who do not return to religious communities, like Mr. La Mettrie or Courtlandt Palmer tend to remain more steadfast in their irreligious convictions?

*Vartanian, Aram. 1960. La Mettrie’s L’Homme Machine: A Study in the Origins of an Idea. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

A Second Civil Marriage to Please an Atheist Parent?

Most people reading this blog probably know of someone who is ostensibly nonreligious who either had a religious wedding, or included religious elements in their wedding mostly to please family members. At times, and perhaps more often in other parts of the anglophone world, it also happens that some couples have a civil wedding and then proceed to have a second religious ceremony or marriage blessing for the sake of their families. But have you ever heard of a religious couple having a fully legal church wedding and then having a second civil ceremony to please a nonreligious parent? Here’s a story from Sacramento CA:

“COUPLE REMARRIED ON WEDDING ANNIVERSARY”
{Special Dispatch to The Call]

SACRAMENTO, Dec. 17.—T0 please his father, Harold Clark Powell and his wife of Omaha were married here today on the second anniversary of their wedding. They were married in Salt Lake City two years ago today by an Episcopal minister. According to Powell, his father is an atheist and was opposed to the marriage. To please the parent the two were married today by Township Justice Clarken, and plan to surprise the elder Powell when they return to Omaha.

This seems like an extremely odd situation. I can understand how a Christian, for example, might think that two people who have a civil marriage only are not married, in the eyes of God. It is almost as if the atheist father in this story doesn’t believe that a marriage solemnized by the Episcopalian minster is a true marriage, in the eyes of…in the eyes of what exactly? Surely it was a legal marriage so the eyes of the law were satisfied. So why is this going to be such a pleasant surprise to the father? The second marriage doesn’t erase the first, and it’s unclear what it might add to it. I have to admit I’m stumped. But what if I contacted the father or the couple, what might they say? Well here’s the thing, I can’t, because this wedding didn’t take place a couple of years ago or even in the 1990s. It took place in 1911. Any ideas?

The San Francisco Call, December 18, 1911, Page 7

On Comparing Atheism and Religion: A Brief Conversation

I’m usually not inclined to make comparisons between atheism and religion for a variety of reasons. As Michael J. Atman points out in the twitter exchange linked below, such comparisons often obscure our understandings of both religion and atheism more than they clarify them. But there is more to it than that. In the endless “culture war” between vocal “secularists” and “religious fundamentalists,” comparisons between religion and atheism have become a politicized trope. At times it is argued that “secularism” should be treated as a religion in order to claim that separating Christian ideas and practices from the public sphere (schools, city council meetings, etc.) is to privilege one religion over another. Hence we’ve heard for decades about the so called “religion of secular humanism” during various establishment clause cases in front of the Supreme Court. And at other times I’m convinced that labeling atheism, or some of its expressions, as just another religion is meant simply to enrage atheists. Either way, it’s usually political.

So why then am I linking to an exchange on Twitter in which Michael J. Altman and I play around with comparisons between contemporary atheist communities and contemporary religious communities? Because to compare is not always to equate, and perhaps more importantly to compare, or even to equate, similar aspects of two phenomena is not to agree that the two phenomena are identical or even of the same general kind. I do not believe that atheism is a form of religion, but I do believe that it can be beneficial to think about atheist social movements in terms of religious social movements. Understanding the similarities and differences between such social movements can be helpful in addressing more general issues of social behavior, as Micheal Altman suggested in the twitter exchange. It can in fact also help us get a better grasp of the politics of comparison mentioned above, that enrage atheists in the first place. So there it is. I’m OK with some level of comparison after all, and with that in mind I give you Michael J. Altman’s blog post, in which he links a storify rendering of our twitter conversation:

The following conversation emerged on Twitter between myself and Per D. Smith, a Ph.D. candidate at Boston University. Check out Per’s great stuff over at irritually. Per specializes in studying irreligion and so I sent him a link to a CNN article and, well, click on the storify link and you can see what ensued.

[View the story "Atheism, Humanism, Prosperity Gospel, and the Mainline" on Storify]

The question I’m left with is this: Is there a force within American society/culture that is shaping atheists and Christians in similar ways such that evangelicals look like New Atheists and old school humanists look like the mainline? What could it be? How could we find it? Is it the market? Politics? What?

What do yall think?

After you check out the storify thread make sure to look at Altman’s blog because he’s a great writer and a keen observer of American religious history.

Atheism and “Objective Morality”

Two days ago atheist blogger Leah Libresco announced that she was in the process of converting to Catholicism.  Apparently Leah had been searching for a satisfactory moral philosophy for some time. In the process she began to realize that she believed in a moral law that transcends human subjectivities without losing its immanence, and that atheism was not offering her the answer:

I’ve heard some explanations that try to bake morality into the natural world by reaching for evolutionary psychology.  They argue that moral dispositions are evolutionarily triumphant over selfishness, or they talk about group selection, or something else.  Usually, these proposed solutions radically misunderstand a) evolution b) moral philosophy or c) both.  I didn’t think the answer was there.  My friend pressed me to stop beating up on other people’s explanations and offer one of my own.

“I don’t know,” I said.  ”I’ve got bupkis.”

“Your best guess.”

“I haven’t got one.”

“You must have some idea.”

“I don’t know.  I’ve got nothing.  I guess Morality just loves me or something.”

“…”

“Ok, ok, yes, I heard what I just said.  Give me a second and let me decide if I believe it.”

It turns out I did.

I believed that the Moral Law wasn’t just a Platonic truth, abstract and distant.  It turns out I actually believed it was some kind of Person, as well as Truth.  And there was one religion that seemed like the most promising way to reach back to that living Truth.  I asked my friend what he suggest we do now, and we prayed the night office of the Liturgy of the Hours together (I’ve kept up with that since).  Then I suggested hugs and playing Mumford and Sons really, really loudly.

I don’t have the mental ammunition to do much damage in a discussion about moral philosophy, but her framing of this issue still intrigues me. Why does she set the foundation of her ethical system up as a choice between evolutionary psychology and theology? One commentator was quick to point out that she overlooked “utilitarianism” and “universal ethics” in making her choice, and there are also other ethical systems out there that have ties to the social sciences and the humanities, as opposed to evolutionary psychology and theology.

While trying to parse this difference between theology/evolutionary psychology and social science/humanities I recalled a recent Immanent Frame post by anthropologist Michael Lambek, “Is Religion Free?” As Lambek points out religion is indeed not free in some rather essential ways. Most basically religion requires “a kind of submission to something conceived as larger, higher, or more powerful than oneself.” The freedom that exists within this frame and the freedom that exists to adopt it in the first place is therefore paradoxical to Lambek; “it is the freedom to be unfree in a particular kind of way.” It strikes me that both strictly theological and biological (in this case evolutionary) visions of the world are unfree in exactly the same way. In Leah’s language, both provide an “objective” source for human behavior. How so? By tidying up the messiness of the world, by making it less ambiguous.

Yet despite the fact that theology and evolutionary psychology can at times be equally deterministic there are some pertinent differences between the moral teachings of those atheists who buy into the former and the moral teachings of the Catholic Church, and this is where I found Leah’s decision the most surprising at first. I gather that Leah is socially liberal (like most atheists), and indeed she mentions not being on-board with the Church’s teachings on homosexuality. Yet despite this she doesn’t give any indication of a particularly difficult existential struggle because of the actions currently undertaken by the Church in the public sphere — lobbying against same-sex marriage and reproductive rights, politically beating up on it’s nuns, etc. Is this yet another example of that messy human social world taking a back seat to the world of transcendent objectivity? Without hearing from Leah about it specifically I can’t say for sure, but it sure seems that way.

This brings me to how Leah’s conversion could be of interest to anyone looking into the various ways that atheists understand the world and humanity’s place within it. While simplistic equations between atheism and religion usually annoy me, there is indeed an interesting sense that some atheists reject human messiness and embrace determinism much like some of their theistic colleagues do. For instance, I wonder if there is a correlation here between strict biological determinism and the preoccupation with keeping religious teachings about the natural world out of schools. Of course I, like many people on both sides of the religion fence, do not want my child’s school teaching creationism…so what I mean is those atheists who have made ensuring that this doesn’t happen one of life’s most defining battles. For other atheists it is not as important, and for some atheists human messiness isn’t a problem, nor are ethical systems with roots in the social sciences and the humanities. My gut tells me that these atheists may also be more involved in the social policy debates that are more clearly of this world…as opposed to being about defining its foundations. For instance if they are liberal, as most atheists are, a more likely preoccupation of theirs might be marriage and reproductive rights. In fact, unlike Leah if this type of atheist were to have doubts about the nonexistence of God, they might still be existentially incapable of joining an institution like the Catholic Church because of the Church’s actions in the world. Is there something to this? You tell me…and preferably by way of  loads of data that I’m too busy to gather on my own…

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