…the chief deficiency I see in the skeptical movement is in its polarization: Us vs. Them—the sense that we have a monopoly on the truth; that those other people who believe in all these stupid doctrines are morons; that if you’re sensible, you’ll listen to us; and if not, you’re beyond redemption. This is unconstructive. It does not get the message across. It condemns the skeptics to permanent minority status;… (The Demon Haunted World, p. 300)

I’ve seen this attitude a lot, even in myself. I hear many skeptics despair of ever convincing the credulous; that Dawkins, Dennet, Harris, Hitchens, et al. are preaching to the choir; that religious folk will never see the light.

My message for the beleaguered skeptic is to keep the faith. I am the beneficiary of their efforts. I am proof that people can change their minds when they hear the voice of reason. I don’t like contemplating what my life would be like if no one had bothered to make the case against my former beliefs.

We can blame Augustine of Hippo for the idea of original sin. As such, it is one of the most hellish inventions of mankind.

Let me recap. God wanted to show everyone how infinitely loving he is, so he created Adam and Eve and put them in a paradisaical garden knowing that they would break his rule about eating of the fruit one particular tree. When they broke his rule (just like he knew they would), he cast them out of paradise into a torture chamber inhabited by a malicious demon he refuses to rein in. Adam and Eve and all of their children suffer at this demon’s hands. He creates earthquakes, floods, plagues, famines, pestilences, and all manner of suffering to punish Adam and Eve’s family for the time back in paradise when their first parents dared to eat that fruit that God tempted them with. Before the demon can do this, however, he must get God’s approval to make sure that no one who believes in God’s love suffers more than necessary, such are the protocols of the heavenly bureaucracy. Satan is on God’s payroll, doing all the dirty work God doesn’t care to do.

Millions upon millions upon billions of people are tortured and killed in this torture chamber with God’s approval. God’s sense of justice demands that God punish all of humanity for Adam and Eve’s sin of which they had no part and for choosing evil themselves, just as he created them to do. He couldn’t show his love if people didn’t suffer, so his plan from the beginning was to create humanity in such a way that they would certainly sin, torture humanity when they sinned according to his plan, and come to their rescue.

Seeing his plan was going well (what with all the suffering and dying going on), it was time for God to show his love, so he took on a mortal body. After being tortured for a day or two, he gave up and died. (Or even worse, he tortured and killed his own Son to make up for his own actions.) This made God feel better about the suffering of all the billions of people who he’s banished to his torture chamber.

If God let all those tortured souls live forever in paradise, it would probably make up for all his hellish sadism. Yet he still put a condition on humanity’s relief from suffering. They had no choice to come to this nightmare chamber in the first place. He never asked them their preference beforehand, yet they bear the final responsibility for getting themselves out. They must first believe—while still being tortured—that he loves them. Not only that, they must love him in return. Anyone who can’t muster the credulity necessary to believe that, anyone who doubts his love in the face of all his sadism, anyone who doesn’t thank him for the chance to suffer and die at his behest will go on suffering forever in an even worse torture chamber reserved for the skeptical and the ignorant.

God sounds like one hell of a cult leader.

It’s fascinating what people can convince themselves of.

Warning: if you’re squeamish about the sight of blood, don’t watch. It’s not excessive, but there is blood.

Another example of how faith must be placed in things that are true. The damned hard part is finding out what is true.

I wonder what he learned from this. Will he try to shrug it off as inauspicious spirits? Or perhaps a lack of training? I hope for his sake that when the wound heals and the embarrassment wears off, he can let go of his dangerous delusion.

Things got more interesting (and more verbose all around) when Blake entered the fray (I believe this is Blake Ostler). The discussion has veered to the topic of the validity of “spiritual” experiences as a foundation for knowledge and a philosophical attack on naturalism.

Interesting, wide-ranging discussion.

I don’t remember seeing him until he had already come back from the emergency room. I had been so oblivious of the situation that my parents found out before I did and managed to take him to the hospital without me knowing. My brother still has the scars to prove it. I still regret that I was derelict in my duty, and that my brother payed the price instead of me.

I often hear that I should leave religious beliefs alone, that I should just live and let live. I’ve already highlighted one reason why I choose not to do that. My desire to do right by my brothers and sisters is another. My love and sense of responsibility push me to share what I’ve learned.

It is strange to me that some of my religious friends would prefer that I keep to myself and allow everyone to find their own way. The Judeo-Christian scriptures are replete with injunctions against this attitude.

Cain the murderer who was cursed from the earth which received his brother’s blood was the first to espouse this callous live and let die attitude when he uttered “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

Jesus gave us the parable of the good Samaritan who succored his neighbor instead of leaving him in the ditch like two pious passersby had done. Jesus also esteemed the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves as the second greatest. From the tenor of Jesus’ teachings, I’m confident that his idea of love was not a passive, warm-fuzzy feeling of endearment, but an action which demonstrated our concern for our neighbor’s wellbeing.

The Mormon scriptures tell us “it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.” (D&C 88:81)

So why shouldn’t I warn my neighbors?

To be fair, I think most who tell me to leave well enough alone see what I say as destructive, not constructive. To them it seems that I am tearing down something good and dear to the believer. I see it differently. I must be completely honest about how I feel in order to show why I feel the need to warn my brothers and sisters.

Religion is a vapor of darkness which blinds our eyes and binds us down to the foolish traditions of our ancestors. It is a collection of the ideas of fallible men mingled with ancient scripture. It is a collection of half-truths and obfuscated wisdom which has outlived the peak of its usefulness. It feels good, so we don’t question its foundations. It is often the tool of the powerful to control the powerless, to lull them into complacency. Promises of rewards in heaven keep us from acting against the injustices in the only life we know that we have. It destroys our natural propensity to think and ask questions. It causes good people to do evil things. It diverts our energy and our resources from more useful efforts. Whatever benefits we derive from religion can be replaced by less destructive methods.

You may disagree, but if you try to step into my shoes for a moment, I think you’ll agree. If this is how I truly feel, then I would be a schmuck if I kept to myself.

[Believing there is no God] informs every moment of my life. I’m not greedy. I have love, blue skies, rainbows and Hallmark cards, and that has to be enough. It has to be enough, but it’s everything in the world and everything in the world is plenty for me. It seems just rude to beg the invisible for more. Just the love of my family that raised me and the family I’m raising now is enough that I don’t need heaven. I won the huge genetic lottery and I get joy every day. (This I Believe by Penn Jillette)

I heard this essay on NPR months ago and enjoyed Penn’s clear, straightforward explanation of humanism (even though he never uses that word). It’s a good Sunday sermon to remind me why it’s good to be godless.

Me: Wait, wait. How do you know that?

Missionary: I studied the Book of Mormon, and I asked God in prayer whether it was true. Heavenly Father answered my prayers through the Holy Ghost. I felt a great peace that assured me that the Book of Mormon was true.

Me: How do you know that your feelings of peace were God telling you about the Book of Mormon?

Missionary: In D&C 9:8 and Alma 32:28, God tells us that he will enlighten our understanding and cause our hearts to burn when we learn the truth. I have felt that peace.

Me: How do you know that those verses are telling you the truth, that feelings of peace and elevation are the Holy Spirit communicating with you?

Missionary: Well, I prayed about it and—

Me: You’re going in circles.

Missionary: I just know that what I’m teaching you is true. If you pray as I did, you can know, too.

Me: You’re avoiding my question. How do you know? If it’s just a matter of feeling that something is true, then how do you know that your feelings are more reliable than another person’s feelings? If I too feel that I know the truth, how do you know that I’m wrong?

Missionary: The Holy Spirit may testify of the portion of the truth that you have. If someone honestly listens to the Gospel’s message and the Spirit testifies to them, they will know that Mormonism contains the full truth, not just a portion of the truth. When the Holy Spirit testified to me, it removed all of my doubts. I am certain that the Gospel as restored by Joseph Smith is true.

Me: You’re still just saying that you know something because you feel like it’s true, and you’re still avoiding the question. How do you know that others’ religious experiences which lead them to follow Islam or Buddhism are less valid than yours?

Missionary: The Gospel is a matter of faith. You have to place your trust in God and he will tell you the truth.

Me: So you don’t really know then. You have faith. You have a belief, a belief that isn’t fully justified by objective evidence. Your belief is based on a wholly private, subjective experience. Why don’t you just say that you believe then? Wouldn’t that be more honest? Stop saying that you know something when you don’t.

Missionary: If you take the leap of faith, then you can later come to have knowledge of the Gospel’s truth. It wouldn’t be faith anymore.

Me: How would I know? Feelings?