The Scathing Atheist

I made my theism known in a single sentence of a relatively long and dense post as a way of airing my potential biases, not to signal that I was up for a debate. I came to talk about YHVH’s penis, nothing less, nothing more!

I’ve made myself unclear yet again. Theology is about qualia. It is not about proving a claim, but experiencing a claim.

As for the New Testament, that’s what I mean by enlightenment era thinking. Whether Jesus really was born of a virgin (he wasn’t) isn’t the point of the text. Don’t read it purely as a claim about an event, but as a story with a meaning, in this case a very political one. The literal rendering of a text is important, but never as important as its underlying meaning!

Of course not. Let me put it this way–the Bible is old as dirt. As such, its texts carry metaphorical connotations that, while hidden for us, would have been exceedingly obvious to its initial readers. To make a very random example, 2,000 years from now people would probably rather read a very loaded and specific statement like, say, “Bush lied, people died” as referring to some sort of bush, and not George W. Bush. Those people would have no conception of 9/11 or the Iraq War, and may very well just take it as a reference to the burning bush or something. Only a careful scholarly reading with an attentive ear to history would pick up on the nuance that, for us, is exceedingly obvious.

You can’t just read anything you want into the text. I mean, you can, but that’s not the intention of its authors. Rather, ancient audiences were very, very familiar with metaphor. Ancient genres like “apocalypse” (Ezekiel, Daniel, Revelation) don’t even exist any more, but in their own time were essentially a way to write out extended metaphors for then-current political situations. 2,000 years post Revelation, however, we have ceased reading it as a condemnation of the Roman domination system, and assume it’s a purposefully esoteric document detailing, well, whatever we want.

As far as theology itself goes, well, yes, there’s nothing stopping you from saying whatever you want, really, but the same is true of other branches of philosophy as well, like ethics. Ultimately, the goal of theology is to grow through relationship, and so if you think that the key to that growth is genocide (like the authors of Deuteronomy, or Joshua, or Ezra) then there’s nothing stopping you from building that philosophical system and then living through it. If you think that the key to that goal is love and the abolishment of xenophobia (like Jonah, which is literally a parody of the book of Ezra) or the establishment of love (like James) then you can do that too. How tenable your conclusions are rest on the experiences of those living through your claim.

Let’s face it: American fundamentalist Christians, with their very exclusivist and extremist interpretation of New Testament theology are having a bad time. Their unwillingness to change their tune is a result of (recently developed) dogma that they pretend is entirely inflexible and impossible to change. It’s as if a college student believed that you must always put “Bros before hos,” and then found himself exceedingly lonely as a result, but refused to change his understanding of relationships because he believes that “Bros before hos” is a universal, unchangeable truth.

In New Testament theology, our entire relationship with God is contingent on our relationship with other people. If our relationship with people is in the gutter, our relationship with God is seen to be, well, in the gutter. And this follows naturally from the NT’s panentheistic assumptions which hold that God is not somewhere out there, but rather that we are “in” God. That’s not to say that God IS everything, but that God is IN everything. From that assumption, the conclusion is derived that if God is in everything, and God is love, we can tap into a greater happiness by creating a system of distributive justice–that is, equality, although one should not mistake it for socialism or communism (both later constructs unfamiliar to first century thinkers).

So yeah, basically, nothing is stopping me from saying that “God is farts, and farts are good,” but sooner or later, people are gonna notice that farts smell like shit. If my theology invokes a divinity of danger (like our Zipporah narrative) then maybe it’ll fly for a while to paint farts as a divine retribution for “sin” or what have you, but eventually people are going to figure out that farts are just the worst part of dinner, and then you’re back at square one again. It is by focusing on the intangible–the qualia–that one ultimately derives useful conclusions. And you are very correct in stating that those conclusions are never conclusive. However, for an individual who embraces a very forward thinking theology like, say, “process relational theology,” that person, whether God exists or not, is likely to see a sort of bounty of happiness in both their own lives and the lives of other people they’re around, where as those who embrace a theology of “700 Club” are likely to get sick and die. At the heart of it is attitude, and you would be correct in saying that there is no definitive, scientifically proven attitude either, but we all know (both through experience, and scientific inference–not ultimate conclusion) that having a shitty attitude gets you shitty results.

I don’t hold that theology holds some monopoly on happiness, and that it is the key to our happiness as people. I do hold, however, that theology operates under a certain principle and that people aren’t going to hold to awful theology’s forever just because they’ve been told to. Eventually, like the women who, for centuries, were married off by their dads into servitude due to the divine decrees of the Torah, people are going to say “Hey, fuck this, I want a better relationship.” And even if God doesn’t exist, which is very possible (!) people can still use theology to seek better relationships with themselves and with others. They can use it the wrong way, too, but it only lasts so long.

I’m not 100% sure what you think I said (or even what you think you’ve said) but it bears very little relation to what I was getting at. The inherently incorrect practices of our forefathers, by both social and theological means, are shaped over time. Essentially, yes, bad theology CAN only last so long. I’m not impressed by your example of NYC purity rituals, when only 50 years prior to our Common Era the Roman Empire was debating over whether or not to ban child sacrifice. Things do change, and religion is one of them. To deny that is to deny the nature of religion and theology outright. I point you to “The Evolution of God” by, I think it’s Robert Wright.

Further, I have made no claim that my own theology is either better or correct. Yes, I will have to concede that my belief that “God wants me to be a good person” is better than the theological belief that “God wants me to burn my children alive on an altar.” Whether or not God exists, one belief is inherently less harmful, and there is no way to argue otherwise without showing an enormous bias. Where I believe my theology gains its footing is in my insistence that I am not necessarily right. I don’t ever want to say “I know how the world works,” and indeed, my entire philosophy on theology is that I’m using it as a way to entertain philosophical notions in relation to constructs. Theology doesn’t necessarily invoke an omniscient, monotheistic god, and neither do I.

Again, I am agnostic. I entertain theism not because I need it, but because I want it. I have no interest in converting other people or believing I am right. Rather, I utilize theism as a thought experiment in order to try and think beyond my own boundaries. Correctness (and no, theology does not necessarily invoke moral correctness) is irrelevant compared to results. That is, the result is not to prove God, but to experience growth.

The people who do bad stuff with religion would be bad with or without it. Bad is bad, whether it be religious or secular in nature. I’m sorry, but a person who uses religion in order to feed the homeless is better than people who use religion to justify xenophobia and genocide and racism and sexism and homophobia and all else. This is a notion predicated on justice as it is–static, not possible to change–and not whether or not somebody fits into my beliefs club.

How silly. First, yes, we can say that a god literally commanding his followers to sacrifice their children to him is worse than a “defender of the faith” as they may be throwing acid on a woman. One is commanded and the other is not. One involves the violent, sacrificial death of a child and the other involves a woman suffering extreme facial damage. Both are terrible, but one is clearly worse. Even still, the YHVH of Genesis who commands the sacrifice of Isaac (but takes it back??) is less immoral than the YHVH of Joshua who commands an absolute and complete genocide. The sliding scale exists.

But no, you are 100% wrong. I can claim a kind of growth. These things are not immeasurable, as you may think. If a person’s theology causes them to become an acid throwing fundamentalist who hates theme parks, we can say that theology is a hindrance to their being as well as to others. If an acid attack victim uses their theology in order to overcome their pain, and their fears about their appearance, about going in public, and whatever else may follow, that is measurable personal growth. One theology causes a negative reaction, and the other causes a positive reaction. This is not deniable, whether God is or not. Theology is not the argument that God exists, but that God exists a certain way.

If you want to make a Flying Spaghetti Monster argument, that’s fine. There’s still a wide and clear gap between a tool-shed-sock-puppet that tells you to throw acid and a tool-shed-sock-puppet whom you (possibly mistakenly) believe is helping you to overcome the trauma of having had acid thrown on you.

If you want to understand the inherent value of a theistic belief and a given theology, then I’d suggest looking into (as I’ve already mentioned) process-relational theology. The belief that God is a divine therapist who is there for you to turn your problems over to. The belief that, even if no one else does, God understands. This sort of theology cannot be replaced with an atheistic equivalent, as it requires a partnership that cannot exist outside of a belief in an all-seer. This sort of theology has also been more than aptly shown to make people happier overall. God or not, the idea holds a legitimate power and has, and will continue to, help people.

Surprisingly, most people don’t see the assumption that all theology can be summed up by the Flying Spaghetti Monster as an adequate refutation. You’ve also failed to refute my argument that my mentioning that I’m a theist doesn’t mean you need to ignore my initial points towards an early, undeveloped Jewish henotheism grounded outside any sort of moral philosophy. That’s interesting stuff. The Spaghetti Man is not.

Then here’s where we stand:

1) You clearly do not know what theology is. It is not the study of God, but the discussion of God. It makes no attempt to ascertain universal truths in and of itself as a topic, but rather it is a method of discussing “what-if” critically. Similar to theology is its big brother, philosophy, which also cannot be “proven” except through purely logical means, but similarly holds the power to shape our perceptions.

2) Kay, well, you don’t like the Bible. Then why read it? Because billions of people read it and you want to prove them wrong? Okay, fine, but you’re not good at that. Anyone can point to a passage in the Bible and say “Oh, bullshit!” but the foundation of Christianity is not the Bible, but the church. People in scholarship and educated laymen like myself have been able to go into the Bible and tears it every word asunder, dislodging every nuance of the divine in search of its human authors… and still come out Christian. Your unlearned attempts offer nothing, and when somebody comes in pointing to critical surveys of the text, you jump down their throat because they don’t believe exactly the same way as you, which is the heart of religious intolerance anyway.

You’re apologizing for your own ministry. Look at you, reading the Bible to disprove it, while also claiming that people who have read enough to disprove YOU are wasting their time. You set yourself up as the only possible victor, because anyone who actually knows what they’re talking about is just a nerd who is contributing to the problem that is “faith.” I also know that you don’t know what faith is, because a world without faith would be near functionless.

To say that good people murder other good people over “religion” is a silly thing as well. People murder one another as a result of intolerance. To argue that I am aiding intolerance by saying that I’m not sure whether there is or isn’t a God is not only ludicrous, but completely untenable. You’re so bogged down in atheist polemics that you haven’t even thought to try and defend your silly point.

I am a textual critic. I give no fucks about theology, generally, but that’s what you’ve made this. My interest is purely in the text as it is, and in interpreting it through a lens of historical-critical exegesis. Here is why: because I like the texts. Amazing as you may think it, some of us actually take enjoyment in reading old boring snoozefests like the Bible and Homer, and we don’t all do so based on either a pro- or anti-religious stance, but simply because we like the texts, and we like history. Your argument that I’ve wasted my time is about as meaningful as if you were to say “World War II historians could have taken up plumbing instead.”

Textual critics are responsible for reforming religion into a tolerant institution. Atheist rhetoric is responsible for creating one more dividing line. Rather than trying to bring people together, you’re doing exactly what the religious do: refusing to tolerate the other side, polemically asserting that everyone on the other side is either doing bad or helping bad, and trying to win as many corpses over to your own side as possible. Congratulations on your religion.

I didn’t say a single one of those things.