WickedThought

Here it is.

An old friend of mine reveres Thor. Not in a funny way. Not in a clever, ironic, self-aware way. I mean he really prays to Thor. In fact, he prays to Thor, Loki, Odin, and the whole lot of them. This friend of mine was also studying to be an electrical engineer. His personal hero was Tesla; a man who seemed divided between science and supernaturalism… or at least, that’s how he’s been portrayed by those who have written his biographies.

Another friend of mine revered Bear. Not in a funny way. I mean she really had dialogues with Bear. She talked to him, he talked back, they discuss ed and dialogued, and she came away with new perspectives. (She informs me that she’s moved on to Trickster Gods, although Gods never forget their followers…)

Myself? I pray to Discordia all the time. I also pray to Athena, Snake, Ganesh, and my Grandfather. I’ve often called myself an omnitheist: I believe in all the Gods. I just like some of them more than others.

For some, much more.

When I talk about “religious thinking,” what I really mean is “dogmatic thinking.” I’m talking about faith: blind belief that ignores evidence to the contrary. Blind belief that not only harms the believer, but also harms those around them. Often with the best intentions, although not always.

For example, let’s look at something controversial in America. Let’s look at embryonic stem cell research. According to biologists, this is the most promising branch of medical research in our modern world. I say “according to biologists” because I’ve actually looked at medical journals, read the evidence they’ve presented, and find it absolutely convincing. These same biologists, who are actually doing this work, put their work up for public discussion, dissection, and discussion. And criticism. They make their work available for any who want to look at it and kick it around.

So, by saying “according to biologists,” what I’m really saying is “according to the evidence presented by biologists…”. But we use shorthand like that–either out of convenience or ignorance–and because we do–or, in this case, because I do–we sound a little like we’re using an argument of authority. Which is actually the opposite of the case.

Go look up research studies and experiments done within the field. Go look at it. Don’t listen to what Fox News tells you. Don’t listen to what your pastor/reverend/rabbi tells you. Go look it up for yourself. These people want to be criticized. They want their work to be dissected and dismantled. They want to be corrected if they are in error. Why?

Because the purpose of science is to understand the world as best we can through a process of self-correction, criticism, and error-checking.

Religious thinking, on the other hand, instructs us to believe what we are told. Faith: belief regardless of evidence to the contrary.

For example, here’s a religious argument: Embryonic stem cell research is “bad” because those babies have souls.

Let’s examine the claims of this argument.

First, the “baby” in question is not actually a baby. “Embryonic” stem cell research actually takes cells from blastocysts. If you’ve never seen a blastocyst or even know what one is, you can find all about them here. Blastocysts are so small, the brain of a fly has 1000 times more cells than a blastocyst.

Let me say that again: the brain of a housefly has 1000 times more cells than a blastocyst. Just the brain. We aren’t even counting the rest of the little fella.

When you see posters and fliers and other propaganda speaking against stem cell research, you see pictures of aborted fetuses. These pictures are incorrect. They are arguments made by people who are deliberately ignorant or intentionally deceitful. Both of which count as “sins” in my book. Deliberately ignorant because they believe what they are told, despite what scientists around the world are saying, or intentionally deceitful because they want to make a point by ignoring the facts. They are deceitful because they are lying to themselves.

Second, let’s explore the idea of this little thing having a soul.

First, I don’t have to prove it doesn’t. The believer has to prove that it does.

You see, I believe in Discordia. (ALL HAIL DISCORDIA!) She’s the Greek Goddess of… oh, hell. If you’re reading this, you know who Discordia is. Anyway, for the faithful in the audience, those who believe in the God of the Book, please disprove my Goddess.

Go on. Prove she does not exist.

*waiting*

*still waiting*

You can’t do it. Because the moment you provide any evidence, I’ll just say, “She wanted you to find that so you wouldn’t believe in her.”

It’s called bait and switch. And religious people are doing it all the time.

Okay, so nobody can prove the existence or disprove the existence of Discordia. Does that make those of you who believe in the God of the Book more or less likely to switch your faith? In other words…

If you can’t disprove Discordia, does that make you more or less likely to start eating hot dogs on Friday and stop going to your church?

Didn’t think so. You see, I have no evidence for my claim of Discordia’s existence. None. Not a sausage. I have a holy book written by two prophets who claim Discordia came to them in a bowling alley (after a lot of acid and beer) and told them to write said holy book. And I believe them. Why? I just do. Because it amuses me to do so. And because Discordia is just plain beautiful. And kind. And cruel. And just… Discordia.

And because she teaches me to question everything. Even herself. Catma. Not dogma. Catma. The absolute refusal to believe in anything.

The only God(dess) in the world that encourages skepticism.

But see, that’s the whole point. Prove the blastocyst has a soul. You can’t. I can’t prove the blastocyst is Discordia. You can’t prove it.

And if you can’t prove it, don’t expect anyone else to go along with it. And, more importantly…

DON’T BELIEVE THE REST OF THE WORLD HAS TO RESPECT YOUR BELIEF, EITHER.

Here’s the real kicker. Faith gets a bye. In our culture, faith gets away clean. Remember when I said that scientists want to be criticised and challenged? Well, faith doesn’t. Try talking to anyone with a critical tone about their religion. They’ll look at you like you’re nn insensitive jerk.
Because in our culture, you can be critical of someone’s politics, their choice of boy/girlfriend, their favorite movies, TV shows and even ice cream, but don’t you say anything about my religion!!!

Well, frankly, it’s time we got over that.

If your religion doesn’t make any sense, I’m gonna say so.

If your religion teaches you that any member of the human race–gays, blacks, whites, women–should be treated any different from you, I’m gonna raise my hand.

If your religion teaches that basic and fundamental understandings of the world are wrong, I’m gonna have to disagree and ask for your evidence.

You think the world is 6,000 years old? Stand up and prove it. And don’t use your holy book.

You think gays have less rights than you? Stand up and prove it. And don’t use your holy book.

You think you have a soul? Freewill? Stand up and prove it. And don’t use your holy book.

Use evidence. Evidence.

It is a basic understanding that students of physics today understand more about Relativity than Einstein did. It is a basic understanding that students of biology today know more about evolution than Darwin did. It is a basic understanding that geology, chemistry, mathematics, and all the other sciences have advanced through the years.

And it is a basic understanding that students of philosophy today know more about morality, ethics, metaphysics, and epistemology than someone who wrote a book in the Bronze Age.

We’ve moved on since Moses, Mohammed, and Jesus. We’ve learned. We’ve adapted. We’ve evolved. Not always for the better, but we have done one thing that’s very important.

We’ve learned.

It’s time to put that learning to use, to look at our religious traditions and ask some very difficult questions. One in particular would be a good place to start…

Do we even need them anymore?