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The Bible is a House of Cards

By on June 6, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism, Path Pebbles Series, Why I'm...

PathPebblesCoverPath Pebbles Series: Why I’m… an Atheist 1.01 – The Bible is a House of Cards

More than a year ago, I posted my Remembering 9/11 Ten Years Later blog. I tried to explain in a relatively small space how that tragic day had made me an atheist, but looking back I’m not very satisfied with how I told that story. I had the highlights, but to an outsider, I’m sure that was all they got. One morning believer; next morning atheist. The truth is more muddled. That post was also my first attempt at bringing my atheism into the public, and potentially to people who know me in real life (SCARY!), so I felt like I had to say as much as possible. I failed on both fronts; I didn’t really make things public and I wasn’t really clear. So, for my first Path Pebbles post, I want to start to break the story of my atheism down a little bit further, but not attempt to tell the whole story (which is a continuing journey). This will be the tale of one reason out of many why I’m no longer a Christian, and why I am in fact, an atheist. There will be more pebbles thrown into the path in the future, but here is one that’s rather large.

When I was a believer, my goal was always to seek the Truth about God’s plans and intentions through my acceptance of the Holy Spirit and study of The Word (aka the Bible, specifically the New Testament).

Hold Me Closer Tiny Dancer

Elton John sings Tiny Dancer

I was raised a Lutheran. When I was in middle school, my church got a new youth director, and I began participating in youth group.  A lot.   As a result of their encouragement and lessons, I tried not to adhere to any specific dogma. What mattered was the truth; not specific doctrine. I called myself Christian or Spiritual, not Lutheran or Religious. I read the bible nightly before bed, and at all other times, I really wanted to understand what God wanted from me, and follow through accordingly. I would have done anything… anything for Him. I even remember having dreams (fantasies???) of suffering on His behalf… maybe being falsely accused of a crime and spending a life in prison. It’s not that I wanted that, but I thought a sacrifice like that might bring purpose to my life, which I felt was meant for greatness. To someone who’s never believed as I did, this may seem crazy. It’s not as unusual as you might think for someone as wrapped up in God’s spell as I was, despite leading a relatively normal life outside. I was a Jesus Freak who wasn’t all that freaky. Quiet, introverted, afraid of her own skin, and full of teenage angst, yes, but relatively normal. I got along with most people in my school, though I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t unpopular either. If someone asked me about God, I would gladly discuss Him (and I discussed God insatiably in youth group itself), but I didn’t go around wearing “Jesus Saves” t-shirts, and warning of damnation lest you repent. I might have thought it, but I tried not to be too weird in a What Would Jesus Do kind of way in public. My point is, you probably know people who are like my teenage self, and not think twice about them.

God’s Word Has Typos?

So the big question I always struggled with in my attempt to understand God’s intentions was: Is the Bible the inerrant Word of God, or is it merely inspired by God, not meant to be taken literally? The thought that it might be completely un-supernatural never really occurred to me, and if it did, I would quickly banish the thought. For most of my time as a fervent Christian, I would have answered that the Bible is not inerrant, or at least that many of the fantastic stories within it (like the 6 Day Creation of the World; Noah’s Ark; Jonah and the Whale) were metaphors and not meant to be taken literally. I thought I believed in science (though I would later learn how pathetic my scientific understanding and critical reasoning skills truly were), so I believed that the evidence proved the earth was old… very old. Billions of years old, not created in 6 days, and certainly older than 6,000 years (as many Creationists believe is biblically based). In addition to the impossible Bible math, I also accepted that the Bible had contradictions, or needed to be taken in the context of the writer’s time. This never troubled me much. So, that forced me to understand the Bible not as perfect fact, but as a collection of inspired stories to help me along a path to understanding God’s will, not as an exact road map.

For a time, that worked for me.

But somewhere along the way, I began to question… Why would God need to write in metaphor? For that matter, why would he need to write through humans? Why couldn’t he plainly explain to all humans in an instant (for eternity) what he expected? Surely an omnipotent agent had that kind of power. It would not negate “Free Will.” It would merely be the same courtesy any good parent gives their child: Here are the rules. Break them and XYZ will happen. No guesswork, no interpretation, no need to be infused with the Holy Spirit like some religious lottery game of eternity. Just tell us what we need to know and hold us accountable. Why play games for something as important as my eternal soul, and the souls of billions of others? It made no sense. Clearly, the Bible was not the perfect Word of God. But if it wasn’t, how could one accept some pieces as worthy, and some not? How could so many well-intentioned, prayer-full people read scripture and get such different results in analysis?

And the Walls Came a Tumblin’ Down

Once I made a determination – that the Bible either must be perfect or it can all be subject to disputable interpretation – it was only a matter of time before the Bible’s House of Cards tumbled down more easily than the Walls of Jericho. If the Bible was not perfect (and it wasn’t), nothing in it could be trusted as a guide for understanding God’s wishes. All of it could be easily dismissed of any moral obligations.http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-images-hisham-s-palace-jericho-israel-image27448054

From that point on, my unbelief was inevitable, but still a ways off.  It would take several more pebbles in my path to bring me all the way to blasphemy.  I hope to get to many of those eventually.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

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The Five Most Important Books I Read in 2011

By on February 29, 2012 in Recommended Reading, Ruminations

Before getting too deep into 2012 (ok, we’re a little deep, but I started drafting this a month ago), I wanted to make sure I tell you about some of the most important books I read during 2011, the same year I got a Kindle!

I read many great books as a result of that simple piece of technology and a commitment I made to myself to devote time reading each week.  Reading became more of a therapeutic meditation time for me last year than ever before, especially on beautiful summer weekends where I would bike ride and read by the several small lakes near my house.   I hope to make book reviews a regular part of this blog, since they’re an important part of my path of life.

So, while many books I read last year were fantastic, there were a handful that stuck out as not only enjoyable, but important.  Important, as in, every human should read them, without exception.  Not all of them were written last year, but last year is when I got the chance to read them.  Here are the five books (not in order of importance, but more in order of suggested reading), and some of my brief thoughts about each one:

1)     [easyazon-link asin=”0805091254″ locale=”us”]The Believing Brain, by Michael Shermer[/easyazon-link]

2)     [easyazon-link asin=”1846942721″ locale=”us”]The Religion Virus, by Craig A. James[/easyazon-link]

3)     [easyazon-link asin=”0060859512″ locale=”us”]Misquoting Jesus, by Bart Ehrman[/easyazon-link]

4)     [easyazon-link asin=”B006W3YQTK” locale=”us”]The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris[/easyazon-link]

5)     [easyazon-link asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us”]Lying, by Sam Harris[/easyazon-link]

 

The Believing Brain, by Michael Shermer simply and clearly explains how humans’ propensity for believing in superstition is driven by an evolutionary need to make quick decisions or end up as food, and how not believing in superstition was probably weeded out of our ancestors.  His story of an early primate who hears a rustling in the high grass having to make a decision about whether he hears a predator or just the wind is a pure genius, yet its a simple way of explaining why we see shadow monsters in the night.  Understanding this evolutionary ingrained intuition is the first step for humanity in moving past basing our decisions and societal structures on that false “patternicty,” as Shermer defines it. People believe their own brains far more than they should, and that has gotten us into a lot of trouble over the millennia.  Shermer nicely sets the foundation to understanding how all man-made myth and superstitions came to be.

[easyazon-image align=”undefined” asin=”B004GHN26W” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51FL9CmjpLL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″]

 

The Religion Virus, by Craig A. James is the next step beyond The Believing Brain, taking why we’re prone to superstition into the reason why religion continues to this day, despite our development of the scientific method, and virtual disproof of most religions that exist today.  Beginning with the history of Yahweh, the God of the Israelites who would develop into the “all powerful” god Jews, Christians and Muslims know today, and then explaining how the meme’s — or stories — of religion stuck with each generation and evolved just as a virus, (or a good joke), does.  James also explains how animism turned into pantheism then to monotheism.  This book erased any doubt I may have had about the historical evolution of the idea of gods and god and did so with personal reflections, historical fact, wonderful metaphors, and brutal clarity.  With my own religious background being that of a Christian, now more than ever I am confounded by my former believing self for not seeing how the god of the old testament is clearly not the god of Christianity.  And if that is true, what among the Abrahamic religions is there to believe in?  Thank goodness, my answer is “nothing supernatural.”

[easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B0046A9JMA” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51dstvLqHAL._SL160_.jpg” width=”103″]

 

Misquoting Jesus, by Bart D. Ehrman, dives into the specifics of one of those religious meme’s — the spread of Christianity, and specifically, how the books of the New Testament were written, and altered by regular humans, each with their very human agenda’s, biases, and flaws.  Ehrman explains that there are more mistakes — whether by intention or inattention — than there are words in the New Testament!  Most people know that the books of the new testament were written starting around 30 years after the death of Jesus Christ, and none of the books were written by people who ever had met Jesus, but what’s more astonishing is the idea that the earliest known texts contain more errors and discrepancies than the later versions, primarily because earlier scribes who would hand copy texts were untrained laymen, members of their congregations copying texts in their spare time, while later as Christianity spread, scribes were professional and devoted to accuracy.  Mis-quoting Jesus puts into plain words how the new testament contradicts itself in profound and important ways, and how biblical scholars, including clergy, have known this for at least a couple of centuries, but do not teach these well accepted understandings to the masses.  Beyond the errors, Ehrman outlines the different variations of early Christianity, and how each sect’s disputes with each other and their pursuit of converts impacted what eventually became the winning doctrine, and that the winner may not have been close to what Jesus’ mission actually was about. He proves that this is not some conspiracy theory from modern scientists, but historically supported concepts. The bible does contain significant flaws, and anyone believing current Christian doctrine does so while ignoring truths that in virtually every other area of human study would cause most people to dismiss their devotion to flawed thinking and ideas.

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B000SEGJF8″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/512kDCXRwJL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″]

 

The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris, is by far the most important book I’ve ever read in my life.  As a former Christian, one of the things that pained and concerned me as I gravitated towards atheism was how to justify morality without God. I knew there were right and wrong answers, and that misery should be avoided and happiness should be increased, but I couldn’t articulate for myself or my Christian friends how to convey that morality can exist without a higher power dictating what the rules are.  Enter Sam Harris and BAM!  Everything was clear.  Harris doesn’t spend time detailing what behaviors are good or bad, but his main thesis is that there are one or more right ways to live and one or more wrong ways to live.  The right ways are those that maximize human well-being, and the wrong ways are those leading to human misery.  He likens these ways to peaks and valleys on a landscape.  There could be multiple high peaks and multiple routes to take to get to them, just as there are for the valleys.  There doesn’t have to be one right way to live, but Harris takes it a step further to say that morality can be scientifically understood and studied, at least to a point.  Right and wrong can be objective, even if studied through subjective data gathering methods.  There are wrong and right answers to our questions of well-being, whether or not we can ever know them.  It is on this point that I believe he loses many people, but why that is is a mystery to me.  He likens the concept to birds in flight.  Right now, there are a specific, finite number of birds in flight on earth.  There is a right answer to that question.  Whether or not we can know the answer (we can’t), does not change the fact that a specific, correct answer exists.  So it goes with morality, maybe.  Whether we can definitively know the answer does not mean we cannot study the question scientifically.  Everyone knows there is human happiness and there is human suffering. Sometimes it’s difficult to maximize happiness, without causing some suffering.  That is the difficulty of these questions, but that doesn’t mean we should forfeit that responsibility to a deity that makes it his business to watch us suffer rather than clarify such important questions for us.  If Harris left me with one idea, it’s that the single most important goal of our species should be to maximize (all) human well-being and minimize (all) human suffering.  And that responsibility rests within each of us, not with “god.”

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B003V1WT72″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519-RISqkmL._SL160_.jpg” width=”104″]

 

Lying, by Sam Harris and Anika Harris is a lovely conceptual footnote to The Moral Landscape, though not at all a sequel.  It is a short essay more than a book, so you have no excuse to not read it.  It will take you an hour max.  While I’m not sure I completely agree with the thesis, no book has stirred my thinking on a deeply personal level like this one did.  I previously believed that there are times when lying is ok (like not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings).  After reading “Lying” I’m not so sure anymore.  Harris makes a compelling argument for why lying is never good because every single lie erodes the fabric of trust between those involved. Eventually that trust leads to less deep relationships, and eventually all kinds of societal ills.  While not lying may be hard, and even uncomfortable (“no, I never wear that sweater you got me for Christmas, grandma, because its hiddeous.”), it is nonetheless pivotal to human growth and a better society, and better world to try.

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31BX0aEcV%2BL._SL160_.jpg” width=”130″]

 

So, there you have it… My list of the most important books I read during 2011.  They took me on a journey of human historical, psychological, and ethical understanding that I wanted to share with you in the hopes that you might have a similar experience and chance to grow as a result.  These authors and their ideas certainly helped me take a few steps closer to being the person I want to be, and part of a society I want to live in.  Since I cannot come close to doing their books justice, I suggest you let them tell you in their own words what they have to say.  Check them out!

[easyazon-image align=”undefined” asin=”B004GHN26W” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51FL9CmjpLL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″] [easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B0046A9JMA” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51dstvLqHAL._SL160_.jpg” width=”103″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B000SEGJF8″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/512kDCXRwJL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B003V1WT72″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519-RISqkmL._SL160_.jpg” width=”104″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31BX0aEcV%2BL._SL160_.jpg” width=”130″]

 

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Introducing PersephoneK, Thankfulness, and Nothing At All

By on November 23, 2011 in Ruminations

[This post was originally published on my old blog site, underworldgoddess.com.  I hope you find it well here.  The published date here reflects the original publication date].

What better way to start a blog than to post my first entry the day before Thanksgiving?  I’ll try not to be too tedious and list all of the things I’m thankful for.  There are countless things to list anyway, and I don’t have the time nor the inclination to write about each one.  And we have just met, so most of those things and people would likely mean nothing to you.

My first post should probably be more about myself.  Who am I.  Who I am not.  Why am I blogging at all.  The truth is, I don’t have a unified reason for why I’m blogging.  This won’t be a blog about a specific topic. I have too many interests (and way too much ADD) to be that focused, so likely you’ll be bombarded with a smattering of various and completely unrelated topics.  Some posts might only loosely be categorized as topical at all.  Essentially, whatever is on my mind that I am itching to share will eventually end up on these pages.

Back to thankfulness… I’m thankful that I live in a country where I can be free to say any random thing that crosses my mind without fear of retribution by my government.  I’m thankful to have been born to a relatively stable family that believed in learning and encouraged debate.  I’m thankful that I have no ability to focus on one topic because my world is infinitely enhanced by finding almost everything interesting (yes, I do find some things more interesting than others and even find a few things completely boring).   I’m thankful for my cat.  I’m thankful for music.  I’m thankful for ice cream.  I’m thankful for poker.  I’m thankful for sandwiches.  I’m thankful for my plasma TV.  I’m thankful for Capitalism and free markets.  I’m thankful for the Declaration of Independence.  I’m thankful for soda.  I’m thankful for my friends and family. (These may be a few of the things I’ll talk about from time to time, but its by no means everything).

Well, what do you know… that was a random list of things I’m thankful for afterall.

So, there you have it.  I’m also thankful to meet you and begin our conversation.  I’d love to hear your thoughts along the way.  And don’t say I didn’t warn you about the random ride we’re about to take.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

P.S.  Sorry for the lack of design style.  I’m sticking with the low-budget blog for now, but may eventually upgrade. We’ll see how long I can stand the bland.

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Remembering and Reflecting, Ten Years After September 11, 2001

By on September 11, 2011 in Atheism & Skepticism, US & International Affairs

[This post was originally published on 9/11/2011 on a blog I no longer update, and have merged here].

September 11, 2011 changed me forever. Changed my life, too, but mostly it changed me.

I often feel I have no right to speak of it, mourn it, internalize it, to be so profoundly impacted by it. I lost no one close to me that day.  Driving to work that morning in Midwestern America, I was far from the attacks’ epicenters. I was never in danger. I was a 25 year old trying to carve out and understand who she wanted to be and who she thought she was.

9/11 did that for me. It helped to chisel me out as a person.  But in a way, it also would eventually in various ways knock me down.

The horror of that day motivated me to choose a new career in the federal government in an agency where I believed I could help to prevent an attack like that from ever happening again.  I had been drifting after college in a meaningless job, and wanted to find my passion and pursue it.  In hindsight, I wanted to connect myself to the tragedy in some tangible way. America was so thoroughly wounded, and I wanted to feel that day’s heartbeat, and make it part of mine.

I wanted to make a difference.

I believed I’d finally found my calling in life.  It was a powerful feeling. Soon after starting the new job, I saw glimmers of what would drive me to leave it nearly eight years later, but mostly I was content and happy with my new path. I wanted to be part of the solution to prevent what happened from ever happening again. My love for America’s ideals – our liberty, our individualism and paradoxical spirit-of-community, our freedom to pursue happiness, our “anyone can make it” attitude, and our mosaic and messy history – coursed through my veins.  It still does.

And, I believed I mattered.

That was the good thing about 9/11 for me – that belief that I could make a difference. I naively thought one hardworking, passionate person could solve the worlds’ and the country’s problems.

That was the bad thing about 9/11 for me. I eventually lost my sense of hope. I became cynical. Not because of 9/11 itself, but because of the path I chose after it. I became lost in a bureaucracy that frankly ate me alive. It’s a tricky thing though… reflection. I honestly can say I have no regrets about my choice to begin my new path. I do regret how it ended. I will save those details for another time. Today, with this blog, I’m at the start of a journey to find a new path and rediscover the idealism and naivety I once had. Those were good days.

9/11 pushed me into a new way of thinking about the natural world, far from where I had been. I was raised a protestant Christian, though not by an extremely religious family.  My parents are believers, and taught me bible stories, but we were not bible thumpers.  In summer, we missed many Sunday mornings in church.  During middle school, through involvement with the youth group, I had grown very spiritual in my faith on my own.  God had become the most important thing in my life, and everything I did was influenced by those beliefs.  But towards the end of high school, my passion had begun to dwindle.  I didn’t understand why.  I still believed, but I didn’t feel the passion for it.

Although I had started down a path of rational thought and belief based on evidence and reason long before (even during the height of my religiosity), 2001-2002 was a pivotal year for my growth as a human. I had been struggling to regain a Christian faith I’d felt was slipping further away. That loss pained me and I’d been trying to find my footing, pick myself up, and find my way back home.  I wanted to believe again.

9/11 was also the catalyst that led me to the next important moment in my deconversion.  At the start of a solo vacation to Lake Tahoe in April 2002, a blizzard stranded me at my own airport for a twelve hour delay.   While waiting for my flight to leave, reading an article in a thrown away copy of Harper’s magazine about the evidence against the bible’s version of the Exodus, I had a revelation.  It literally felt as though a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, and a huge burden had been discarded.  I didn’t see God or angels.  Instead I had an overwhelming sensation of the release of anxiety: I now felt allowed to pursue other ideas and beliefs no matter where they might take me. This was a big deal. My mind was suddenly opened to all possible outcomes and reasons for existence. I hadn’t suddenly lost my faith, or my belief in God, but no longer was I bound by the limitation of my Judeo-Christian understanding of life after death, and what disbelief in it could mean.

In short, I accepted the possibility that pursuing a world view other than Christianity could result in my eternal damnation.

Not an easy thing to accept; yet at the same time it was. I now quietly celebrate April 1 (yes, April Fools Day!) each year as my “Epiphany Day.” I’ll save the rest of that for another blog in the future.

Many months had passed between 9/11 and that day, but my willingness to hear new ideas had pushed me further from the God I’d known and loved, and more towards agnosticism.  It was scary and exhilarating at the same time.  Yet, as of 8:45 am eastern standard time on the morning of 9/11/2001, I still believed in God. By the time I closed my eyes to go to sleep that night, I did not.  I only realized this later after reflection, but 9/11/2001 was the day I stopped believing in supernatural explanations for all things, and threw my lot in with science, reason and logic.  It was the event that opened my mind to that realization I had on my trip to Tahoe.  Without 9/11, I could still be a struggling Christian, miserable with herself for her hypocrisy and loss of heart.

Thus began my transformation into a skeptic. I try not to define myself by one word, or one set of beliefs. I am the combination of all of my beliefs, dreams, and experiences. Just as you are. And tomorrow that combination, and net result could – and probably will – change.  But if I must chose one, skeptic would be the word that best defines me.

All of that detail sets the stage for this blog. I chose to post my first entry on the ten year anniversary of September 11, 2001 with purpose. It marks an important date for me for many reasons. Without that day, my country, my life and me would be so very different, for better and for worse.  Right now, I’m not sure which it is.  Maybe its both. I do know this: I love to learn, I love to debate.  I aim to seek the truth.  I cannot do this alone.  I’ve heard there are three sides to every story.  Your side, my side, and The Truth.  All three touch each other. My ambition is that through reasoned and challenging discussion, we can help each other find the truth about a great many things.

This blog isn’t about any one thing in particular.  My interests run far and wide and my whims are even faster.  I guarantee that while you may agree with me on one topic, you will vehemently disagree with me on others.  But if you love critical thinking, and are willing to consider other options, I think we’ll be great friends, or at the very least, teach each other something.

September 11 means many things to me.  What I hope for 9/11/2011 is that I can begin a journey with you to use one of our unalienable rights (and I don’t believe that phrase applies merely to Americans) to speak openly and freely while in the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.

The rules for this blog are simple: Say what’s on your mind about an issue I raise, but do so in a civilized and respectful manner.  Criticize the idea, not the person expressing it.  Only then will all people feel free to share their ideas.  And I want to hear what you have to say!  I want you to challenge my beliefs just as I’ll challenge yours.  It’s great to meet you.

Get ready for a wild ride!

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