Skorian said:
Liapos said:
Political, social, personal, economic and other avenues of opinion aren't immune from ridicule. Why should religion be of any exception?
I'd like to hear some arguments.
Hmmm, in regards to your last post, I will wrap the two together. Assuming that many religions are based upon helping people to protect themselves from their own weaknesses. Assuming fear being one weakness people have. Would it not stand to reason that a challenge upon the identity of these beliefs is a threat to peoples prospect of identity and seen as an outright threat to their stability and sanity? And wouldn't such a threat result in the responses that seem to so commonly take place? I mean if one believes in GOD, then one believes that abandoning that faith will constitute them going to hell. One could almost assume that many religious folks live in abject terror. Many even believe that if that belief is stripped away that their belief in their religion is all the keeps them from going postal on their neighbors. Rarely are any other beliefs so rapped up in people’s emotional states.
This is why most religious discussions go down in flames. Those who are defending their faith are quite simply not interested in truth, understanding, reality, objectively, knowledge, fairness, or any other rationally fruitful endeavors. And just in saying this, many believers will flee into total states of denial or get angry. Both ways to shut off their abilities to think, learn, or hear. And still even pointing this out won't breach such barriers. They are instead only out to defend their mental state and block out all else.
I agree that people cling to their religions as a sort of comfort blanket; and yes, religious people do live in abject fear. I was one of these people. Up until I was about eighteen (I'm twenty-one now), I was a total "Jesus Freak." I remember sitting in my room printing out hundreds of little prayer cards that read, "How can Kevin pray for you today?_____________." and handing them out at my school. I don't think anyone could look at something like that and claim that I was "never a true Christian."
I apologize for turning this into an autobiography, but it's crucial to my point. After high school, I drifted away from my faith. I had met this girl named Charley, fell for her, we had sex and she got me into drugs. This lasted for about a year until I "came back to Christ" and devoted my life to Christianity again (after days and days of knee-to-floor begging of course). But experiencing the darker side of the world -- that is, the world my parents had sheltered me from -- had seeded doubt in my mind; so I decided that I was going to reassure my faith by doing what few Christians actually set aside the time to do -- read the whole Bible, front to back, and study it as I went along.
As I passed up Exodus I began to think to myself, "I don't believe a lick of this. . .'6 days?' 'Global Flood?' Why would God kill all those innocent babies in Egypt just to make a point?" That abject fear, however, was still so strong in me that whenever one of these thoughts meandered into my mind I dropped to my knees and begged for forgiveness again. I read on, and read on, and read on. I covered the whole of the Old Testament, and by the time I reached the end I couldn't suppress the doubt anymore.
So I did what any fluffy Christian would do: I begged my fluffy God to reassure my faith. Sure enough, I felt "the Holy Spirit" speak to me, saying that, surely, the New Testament would strengthen my resolve. That's the book with all the happy stuff in it, after all. As a matter of fact, when I got to the Sermon on the Mount, all faith I had possessed was gone. I was angry. I felt abandoned. I felt tricked by my parents. I was pissed.
I had been led to believe this dogma -- this source of anxiety, and of fear, and of intellectual oppression -- and had come to realize that none of it made a lick of sense to me. So I started reading other books. By that time, "The End of Faith" by Sam Harris had come out. I saw it on the bookshelf at Barnes and Noble and sat down to read it. I got past the first two chapters and realized to myself: "I don't know. I don't know, and that's okay. It's okay not to know."
And that revelation was more liberating than any invocation of the holy spirit I'd ever been subject to before. So I picked up Dawkins' "The Selfish Gene" and that got me interested in Evolution. Now, a few Christmases before my parents had bought me a listening tape called "Someone's Trying to Make a Monkey Out of You!" It was a creationist propaganda tape that up until now I had held to be true. This is important because in reading Dawkins' book I began to realize that Religion as a whole is nothing more than a scam, a money-maker, a vice grip of power and has been since it first emerged from the muddy minds of primitive man.
And that's my point. Religion is based in fear, anxiety, and threats of hellfire not because it offers a release from said things; no, indeed it uses the very things it offers a release from as a way to retard the mind, squander intellectual thought, and empty the pockets of the gullible. Nothing more, nothing less. Science is the single most honest source of information-gathering we have about our world. Logic and Reason are tools we use, and they are drawn from records of how the universe has worked in the past. How we observe the universe dictates our logic, and so far, logic is the only reasonable tool we have for observing the universe. What, to you, is more beautiful? The concept of an event horizon -- the breaking point of a black whole where past not even light can escape; the observation by us mere humans on this "pale blue dot" that we are, indeed, so small and so insignificant and so
lucky to exist as part of an unimaginably large universe wherein atoms make up molecules and molecules make up stars and a hundred billion of these stars make up a single one of a hundred billion galaxies? Or a god-man sending demons into pigs and running them off a cliff; or turning water into wine; or the purports of a man in antiquity, wherein a healthy majority of the population couldn't even read, to be the son of God? The garden is just as beautiful without the idea that fairies live at the bottom, and the universe is infinitely more beautiful when our imaginations aren't retarded by prehistoric ideas of megalomaniacal gods.