alt/theism

Image by Rennett Stowe. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons
Image by Rennett Stowe. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons

Reblogged from CNN:

How many ways are there to disbelieve in God?

At least six, according to a new study.

Two researchers at University of Tennessee at Chattanooga found that atheists and agnostics run the range from vocally anti-religious activists to nonbelievers who still observe some religious traditions.

“The main observation is that nonbelief is an ontologically diverse community,” write doctoral student Christopher Silver and undergraduate student Thomas Coleman.

Click here to read the full article

I had fun with this study because, although I don’t ascribe the label atheist to myself, I am not a theist in the classical sense.  For those who may not be familiar with the terms: Classical Theism refers to belief in an eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent, and personal deity who is responsible for the creation of the universe, exists separately from it, and interferes with its normal operations at least occasionally.  Depending on who you ask, the God of classical theism might also be defined as omnipresent, immutable (unchanging) and/or impassable (incapable of feeling or suffering).

I really like a conversational strategy adopted by Unitarian Universalist minister John Buehrens: whenever someone says, “I don’t believe in God,” Buehrens responds, “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in.”  Most of the time, he says, he is able to say that he doesn’t believe in that God either.  Likewise with me: if the classical theist concept of divinity is the only legitimate definition of the word God, then I would be forced to classify myself as an atheist.  For various reasons, I reject outright the ideas of immutability, impassability, and separateness from the universe.  I radically redefine concepts of omnipotence, omniscience, creativity, and personality in ways that would make them nearly unrecognizable to a classical theist.  For reasons that I admit are not entirely rational, I continue to accept the quality of benevolence as central to my understanding of the idea of God.

There are two thinkers with whom I tend to resonate when it comes to talking about God.  The first is philosopher/theologian Paul Tillich who famously declared that God is not “a being” but “Being Itself” or “the Ground of Being”.  This is also vaguely reminiscent of St. Thomas Aquinas who said (not in so many words) that God does not “exist” but “is existence”.  In more recent years, Forrest Church (another Unitarian Universalist) wrote in his book The Cathedral of the World, “God is not God’s name.  God is our name for that which is greater than all, yet present in each.”

Like most atheists, I have no trouble acknowledging that God is a mythical concept devised by human minds in a particular cultural milieu.  I utterly reject the hypothesis that there is actually an “old man in the sky” who created the world, controls everything, and condemns earth to destruction and the majority of humanity to eternal postmortem torture as punishment for various moral and dogmatic infractions.  If that’s who God must be, then you can call me an atheist.

When it comes to the six types of atheists, I might be classified somewhere between a 3 (seeker-agnostic) and a 6 (ritual atheist).

Regarding the 3 (seeker-agnostic) the article says this:

This group is made up of people who are unsure about the existence of a God but keep an open mind and recognize the limits of human knowledge and experience.

Silver and Coleman describe this group as people who regularly question their own beliefs and “do not hold a firm ideological position.”

That doesn’t mean this group is confused, the researchers say. They just embrace uncertainty.

Regarding the 6 (ritual atheist) the article says:

They don’t believe in God, they don’t associate with religion, and they tend to believe there is no afterlife, but the sixth type of nonbeliever still finds useful the teachings of some religious traditions.

“They see these as more or less philosophical teachings of how to live life and achieve happiness than a path to transcendental liberation,” Silver and Coleman wrote. “For example, these individuals may participate in specific rituals, ceremonies, musical opportunities, meditation, yoga classes, or holiday traditions.”

For many of these nonbelievers, their adherence to ritual may stem from family traditions. For others, its a personal connection to, or respect for, the “profound symbolism” inherent within religious rituals, beliefs and ceremonies, according the researchers.

If I had to classify myself as an atheist, based on my rejection of classical theism, it would probably look like some combination of these two categories.  However, I don’t consider myself an atheist because even a combination of these recently expanded ideas is still too dogmatically confining for me.

So here I am: neither a classical theist nor an atheist.  If there is a widely acknowledged category that most closely describes the place where I live, it would be panentheism (God exists within the universe and the universe exists within God).  Unlike pantheism (God is the universe and the universe is God), panentheism leaves more room for mystery and transcendence beyond the realm of time/space/matter/energy.

However, because I like to challenge conventional labels and make up new words, I’ve been playing with the term alt/theism as a description for where I’m at.  Don’t read too much into it or get your torches and pitchforks ready, this is just pure fun with words.

For me, as an alt/theist, faith in God is based on a meta-rational “hunch” about the mysteries of existence, connection, personality, and harmony.  My hunch (which I cannot prove as fact but cannot reject as possbility) is that each of these experienced realities is derivative from some larger source or whole that can never be fully understood or explained by human reason.  To this mystery, the language of my Christian tradition attaches the name God.  My only hope in the quest for understanding is to approach the very tip of reason’s precipice and peer over the edge into the ongoing mystery with my eyes, ears, heart, mind, and mouth hanging open in wonder.

Three Obligations I Have as a Faith Blogger (re-blog)

Spot.  On.

Reblogged from Alise…Write!

Today I’m standing with my atheist writing friends and saying that questions and criticisms should be allowed, even of things that I hold dear. And while this may not do much to help those who have been imprisoned for those questions or criticisms, it may begin to blur some of the battle lines that are drawn between our communities.

Click here to read the full article…

Practical Atheism

Sermon for the 27th week in Ordinary Time at First Presbyterian, Boonville.

The text is Matthew 21:33-46.

Click here to listen to the audio at fpcboonville.org!

As many of you already know, being the pastor of First Presbyterian Church is only one of my jobs.  I also teach philosophy at Utica College.  Let me tell you: it’s a fun job.  I love the friendly banter I get to have with my students.  I love challenging them to think outside the box and grow as human beings.  One of my favorite memories came on the first day of class a few semesters ago.  I was sitting at the front of the room, stapling papers, when my first student arrived early and sat down.  The first words out of his mouth were, “My name is Josh and I am an atheist!”  Now, it’s important for you to know that the vast majority of my students don’t know that I’m a pastor.  I try to keep that piece of information to myself in order to maintain an open and unbiased atmosphere in the classroom.  So Josh had no idea who he was talking to.  He told me about his favorite atheist authors and I recommended a few others he might like.  At the end of the conversation, he told me he was glad that his philosophy class was being taught by me and not “some Christian moron”.  I just smiled and kept on stapling my papers.

Over the next few weeks, Josh and I continued to develop a healthy teacher-student rapport.  Then one day, he came into my office and was making small-talk.  And he asked me if I was an atheist like him.

“Actually no,” I said.  He looked surprised.

“Really,” he said, “What are you then?”  And without saying a word, I just reached into my pocket and put my clerical collar on.  For the next few seconds, he was speechless.  He just sat there with his mouth hanging open.  The look on his face was priceless.  I’m happy to say that my newly-discovered clerical status didn’t damage my professional relationship with Josh.  To this day, he and I maintain a lively connection based on mutual respect.

There are those who might say, “Barrett, how is that possible?  He’s an atheist and you’re a Christian!  Aren’t you afraid that this might somehow compromise the integrity of your faith?”

And my answer is no.  I’m not afraid of that at all.

Honest skepticism poses no threat to Christianity whatsoever.  God can handle doubt.

That being said, I do think there is a particular kind of atheism that does pose a threat to authentic faith, but it’s not the kind of atheism that you’re likely to find in the halls of the ivory tower, the ranks of the Communist Party, or the meetings of the Secular Humanist Association.  The kind of atheism that poses a real threat to Christianity is the kind you find in church.  I’m not talking about atheism by philosophy or belief.  I’m talking about practical atheism, where otherwise religious people, even Christians, live their everyday lives as if God didn’t exist.  Practical atheists read the Bible, receive the sacraments, say their prayers, and recite the creed with sincerity and devotion.

Right now, it would be easy for me to offer some example of a publicly religious personality who was caught in some major scandal or hypocrisy.  Those stories certainly are tragic, but saddest of all are those who never fall prey to such public humiliation.  They’re upstanding citizens and model Christians.  They go through the motions so well that even they don’t realize that they are actually practical atheists.

Jesus knew people like this.  He reached out to them, connected with them, and invited them into a deeper experience of who God really is.  He told them this story:

Once upon a time there was an entrepreneur who started up an elaborate winery and leased it out to tenants for management.  Already, in this first sentence, we have an insight about the nature of God versus the nature of practical atheism.  Practical atheists are quick to use the word “my”: my church, my tradition, my house, my family, etc.  But, if we take the entrepreneur to be a symbol for God, we see that God is the one who started all this.  This is God’s church.  Two hundred years ago, God began to do something in Boonville through the people of this church.  Today, their mission has been passed to us, but we don’t own it.  We are tenants here who have been given stewardship for the moment.  Each of us plays a part, but God is the one with the master plan.  This is a simple and obvious truth that is too easily forgotten in the fog of maintenance and administration.  We need to remember that nothing in this church exists for its own sake.  Everything is a tool for participating in God’s mission project here in Boonville.  Just like the landowner in Jesus’ story built the vineyard for a purpose, God built this church for a purpose.

Back to the story itself, these tenants forget just whose vineyard it is anyway.  The absentee landlord sends multiple employees in succession to the vineyard for a progress update and the tenants treat each one worse than the one before.  When the landlord sends his own son at last, they say, “This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.”  The only way this logic makes any sense is if the tenants assume that the landlord has died.  Only then would they have a shot at “get[ting] his inheritance”.  In the same vein, Jesus’ audience of practical atheists must have (at some level) assumed that God is dead (or unreal), in spite of their outward religious fervency.  They mistook themselves for the owners of God’s vineyard and forgot that they were merely tenants.

Any remnant of God that remains in their minds becomes shrunken and twisted so that their idea of God looks very much like their idea of themselves.  When Jesus asks them what the vineyard owner (God) will do to the wicked tenants (them), they reply in no uncertain terms, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”  Let’s listen to that again: this is what God looks like to them: they assume that God is the one who “will put those wretches to a miserable death”.  This deity, while technically just and powerful, is small-minded and unsympathetic (not unlike the Pharisees themselves).

Jesus confronts this faulty image of God with all the care and compassion in his heart.  If you look closely at the text, he never affirms the Pharisees’ idea of a God who “will put those wretches to a miserable death”.  Instead, the first words out of his mouth are, “Have you never read in the scriptures: ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’?”  Jesus quotes from the sacred text of their own religious tradition and presents the living God as one who accepts unacceptable people and honors outcasts and rejects.  The God of Jesus does not seem to show much interest in putting “wretches to a miserable death”.  Jesus’ God would rather go looking for that tossed-aside piece of broken cement so that it can be treated with special care and honor.  This is what the living God is really like, according to Jesus.

The one part of the Pharisees’ response that Jesus agrees with is the part about “leas[ing] the vineyard to other tenants”.  Jesus tells them, “[T]he kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”  This sounds like punishment at first, but isn’t it liberating in the end?  Isn’t Jesus setting them free from bondage to the leased vineyard that has now become a spiritual burden?  Without that albatross around their necks, they will be free to see God more clearly.  Perhaps this is what they need in order to stop seeing God as the one who “[puts] wretches to a miserable death” and start seeing God as the one who receives outcasts and honors rejects.  By taking way their religious power, Jesus is curing the chief priests and Pharisees of their practical atheism.  I think God is doing the same thing for all of us.

Honestly, I think we’re all practical atheists at some level or another.  We like to trick ourselves into thinking that we’re self-made individuals who can pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps.  We like to cast ourselves as the hero in our own story.  We are apt to forget that we are merely tenants in God’s vineyard and think of ourselves instead as the owners.  In short, we’re trying to play God.  Into this fog of delusion comes the real and living God.  We’re terrified because we assume that God is coming in order to put us “wretches to a miserable death”, but instead this seeker of rejected cornerstones is coming to liberate us, not punish us.

So, how do we apply this cure for practical atheism in our own lives?  How do we embrace the liberation that God has in store for us?  How do we get in touch with this living God?

As it turns out, there’s not much to it at all.  We don’t have to go far to find the living God because God is already here.  The apostle Paul tells us Romans 11 that God is the source, guide, and goal of all things.  It is in God that we all “live, move, and have our being.”  As long as there is air in your lungs, the living God is present and active in your life.

We don’t need to do much of anything to get God’s attention either.  Just as God is not intimidated by honest skepticism in the classroom, God is also not impressed by pious posturing in church.  Jesus taught people that there’s no need to “heap up empty phrases” when they pray because God “knows what you need before you ask”.

So, in the end, the cure for practical atheism is as simple as what Jesus taught his followers in Luke 11:

Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? 12Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? 13If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!

So, if you feel like that’s you today: the practical atheist who is just going through the motions of spirituality, why not take some time this week for a little open-minded asking, searching, and knocking?  You might just be surprised at the gifts you receive, the treasures you find, and the doors that open up for you.