(Via Johan de Haan)
The stench of bronze age prejudice and sexism that permeates the entire bible is overwhelming, and grotesquely so in the ramblings of the Old Testament. The supposed revelations allegedly codified by the bearded raft rider Moses reveal a male fascination with property ownership, a concept which included anything which did not possess male genitalia. It also reveals a patently bronze age male preoccupation with self-worth, self-importance and a gnawing sense of insecurity, matched only by the ability to regurgitate the same immoral and outrageous demands throughout the opening books of what we know as the Old Testament.
The widespread ignorance among believers of the contents of their own holy book is at the heart of the persistence with which the average believer will shrilly proclaim the moral and divine truth of the bible. Such ignorance shields the utter immoral drivel that is the Old Testament, and for that matter the entire bible. It is amusing to consider that should any publication administration be required to consider an age limit for its content, the tales of the incestuous threesomes of Lot (Genesis 19:30-38), who had earlier offered his daughters as objects for the sexual gratification of a town mob, the brutal butchering of the corpse of a gang-raped innocent concubine condemned by the callousness of her master (Judges 19) or the utter immorality of the bible’s position on equality, democracy, science or any modern moral or political standpoint, would render it undesirable fiction with a considerable age restriction. Indeed, it is ironic that in the midst of the puritan insistence on family values, children are allowed to read the stories of the bible but are vilified for purchasing a copy of Playboy under the convenience store counter. If anything, the moral virtues of worshipping the female form in the manner found in such magazines is a considerable improvement on what the bible has to say on the subject.
On the subject of children, one can only be mesmerized at the degree of indoctrination that is required for thinking adults to accept even the demand for child sacrifice as godly instruction. Whilst the average believer will howl in indignation at the mere suggestion that Yahweh would call for such nonsense, even this damnable instruction is contained in the bible (Exodus 22:29) indeed, Yahweh, being a gentleman, had the common decency to apologize for his exuberance through one of his assigned spokesmen years later (Ezekiel 20:24-26), although this admission was backtracked on when it came to his own firstborn.
The willingness of fellow members of our species to accept the patently false claims and self-apparent fraud of religious institutions, generation upon generation, is something peculiar. It appears not to matter to the believer that the concept of god as the bible portrays it, is a thoroughly immoral one. A vile god of child-sacrifice, slavery and child abuse, who enjoys an unquestioned entitlement to our worship, fear and obedience for no other reason than that he chose to create us to satisfy is own insufficiency. Logically the claim to entitlement over one’s own creation is of course diametrically opposed to any concept of free will or choice, and directly contradicts the kind of god most believers will gravitate towards when pressed on the matter.
Yet what typifies all of scripture can be reduced to the insistence of jealous entitlement, the notion that by virtue of being god, God need neither justify his conduct nor his treatment of salient souls. What typifies religion is the exploitation of this ideal to human ends, for by claiming divine origin in relation to scripture, theology and in particular the claims of religious leaders, religion insists that it is exempt from having to justify its claims or rationalize its conduct, but at the same time enjoys godly rights of entitlement. Whether by deceiving small children into believing one of the bible’s versions of creation, threatening the impressionable with eternal damnation in order to secure obedience or by vilifying science and reason, the ultimate desire of a modern religion, which has lost its position of power, is to achieve a balance between keeping the flock contained with the walls of its intellectual pen, whilst retaining sufficient justification through claimed good intent, alms to the poor and professions of goodwill.
What we cannot lose sight of is that beneath this forced façade, the bronze age demands to kill witches, stone children, oppress women and own slaves are not exceptions to some otherwise sterling work of moral teaching, they are the underlying foundation for the existence of religion. We too often tolerate religious ideals out of some misplaced notion of respect, even when in the 21st century religion rambles on about the evil of homosexuality, the inferiority of women, the will of god concerning political decisions or claims to have authority to determine what children can or cannot learn. As a practical example ask a local congregation to provide its mission statement, its position on homosexuality, female equality, evolution or the destination of your eternal soul. This widespread acceptance of the perpetuation of ignorance and patriarchy in a modern setting reminds us of the root cause of religion identified by Napoleon Bonaparte, that it is founded on the fear of the many and the cleverness of the few.
This is precisely why the hypocrisy of religion is so grotesque, so self-serving and so damaging to the human psyche. The god of the bible is not a benign well wisher, but a jealous, demanding, capricious and frightful being who thrives on the sexism, oppression and forced indoctrination of those whose minds are too vulnerable to resist the shrill threats of this torturous dictator or too ignorant to recognise the fallacy in biblical claims. A being designed by the clever to keep the many ignorant, submissive and eternally fearful.
The only thing worse than an unjustified and unquestionable sense of entitlement is such a sense attributed to a mythical figure. It is worse because we have so convinced ourselves that the evil of religion is not of humans by humans but of god abused by humans. To leave room for man-made religion’s claim of a jealous god whose right to power and entitlement is both unending in eternity and unquestioned in the present, is to facilitate a witch-hunt. A witch hunt of all that is objective, reasonable, fair and most importantly, justified.
(Via Wendy Hughes)
I went to Sunday School, in a Reform Jewish congregation, but always thought there was something missing in my Jewish identity. My family did not practice the traditional rituals ie Friday Night Prayers nor dietary prohibitions against mixing meat and milk. I was a teenager before I even knew about the Holocaust. I went to a French film, with a friend of mine who’d grown up in Israel, that had footage of the concentration camps, and said to him, “What is this?” My family had never discussed it. When I asked about it later, they just shrugged. It was not a part of their reality. My father’s family had migrated to the US before WWII, from Poland through Great Britain and South Africa, then to Canada and then into the US. And my mother’s grandfather on her father’s side had come as a teenager from Russia or Ukraine to avoid the 25 year army draft imposed on Jewish men, and prospered in the midwest… belonging to both a Conservative and a Reform temple. My mother says she remembers that they joined the Reform temple because it had a nicer cemetery. It sounded funny at first, but now I understand that old fashioned cemeteries have depressions in the ground and become overgrown, so a new cemetery can look “nicer” by comparison.
Anyway, I also now understand that migration is an engine of change… the surnames in my family are inconsistent. The very act of landing in America speaking a different language meant that some guy with a pen and a clipboard gave you a name you didn’t have when you left the old country.
In any event, as I was learning about my family background, as a Jew, in my confirmation class, the instructor taught comparative religion. I think it was supposed to show us that Judaism was the best of all possible religions, but I was a child of the sixties, and so-called Eastern Religion was soon on the horizon. I remembered the visit to the Buddhist temple when my friends were experimenting with Zen and hearing about the Beatles and their visits with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi… all the practices that constituted variations on spirituality.
Frankly, my generation was all about exploration into what boiled down to superstition. Astrology, ESP, gods, angels, UFOs, aliens, astral projection, time travel; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the stories of the bible and religion were no less fantastic than the ones in Sci Fi. They were just somehow branded into a formal and “accepted” respectable format.
I still have not fully figured out why some people buy it… and others don’t; why some people insist that they have a direct and palpable connection to the Spirit in the Sky, and I think there is nothing there but sky.
When I finally had time to go to college and take some anthropology classes and a couple of semesters of sociology and critical thinking, then called Argumentation…. it was refreshing to find out that it wasn’t just me who thought the world was all screwed up. The tension relaxed a notch or two when I discovered that there are political and sociological reasons that religions have power; that the hierarchies lie to their congregations, and that they rely on people’s fears and insecurity to control them. Those things have nothing to do with a supernatural being that answers prayers and runs things.
Finally, one day, my dear ex mother-in-law and I were getting ready to take a swim. I had been married to my ex-husband for only six years, but I’d remained friends with his mother, a very nice Jewish lady, for over 30 years after we were divorced. We used to go to get Jewish deli together, and she made the best chopped liver I ever ate. One day I decided to tell her how I feel. I said, “You know, I don’t believe in God.” She looked over her shoulder, and all around… we were alone in her apartment, but she whispered, “… neither do I.” And it started an important dialog. I think there are a lot of Jewmanists.
Probably it takes great courage to admit this in the face of the Holocaust… I don’t know what it means to be anything else other than a Jewish atheist. One of my best girlfriends is an atheist who grew up going to Christian school, and can quote chapter and verse of New Testament, but doesn’t believe; I’ll have to ask her more about it. But for me, it’s just the truth. I like being Jewish, but I don’t need, want or have to have a supernatural being who answers prayers and runs things.
This is just an abbreviated version of my “coming out” story… there is so much more because it is unfolding every day. I am happy to be able to be human unencumbered by superstitions, unfrightened by fear of stepping on a crack, or not waving my hands the right way. I don’t want to feel superior to people who have not made the decision to come out yet… maybe they are about to emerge from their cocoon soon. I was delighted to find out that my grandson’s confirmation class was very non-spiritual 
(Via Angela Rey)
my ascent to a humanist perspective has been a very slow and painful journey. raised independent fundamentalist baptist (IFB), i very deeply believed in heaven, hell, jesus, literal creation, virgin birth… if it was in the christian scripture, i soaked it in. i was baptized at 7, led my first convert to christ at 10, and attended bible college at 18.
after bible college, it made sense to me to learn about scriptures from the jewish perspective; so i enrolled in the judaic studies program at UCF.
to avoid deceit, i must confess that a big part of the draw was to learn how to better convert jews. don’t listen to what other evangelicals may tell you, we totally get extra points for the chosen people.
instead of finding a community of people lost and empty in their own self-deceit, everyone seemed totally normal. what’s more, a lot of them were atheists, and no one seemed to have a problem with that.
i had been brought up to believe that “humanists” and “atheists” were under literal demonic influence and part of a vast evil plot by satan to destroy humanity.
imagine my surprise when the exorcisms failed.
so i’ll spare you the details of my lengthy discussions with professors, rabbis, pastors, physicists, and my cosmically important friendship with a reformed jew turned atheist.
intellectually, the evidence was clear. A fundamentalist view of the world stops working the minute you look beyond the few resources approved by your tiny sect.
emotionally, this was all very hard to accept. in order to give myself the freedom to objectively assess the situation, i had to take the chance that this was all some elaborate scheme of satan’s to deceive me.
in the end, it seemed to me that a religion worth believing in should stand up to a little objective scrutiny.
from beginning to end, it took me 5 years to drag myself out of fundamentalism completely… and another 2 years to tell anyone about it.
i was 27 when my mother found out. she cried, fumed, prayed, and kept my atheism as her shameful secret. i led a double life to save face for her.
the election in November changed everything. for the first time in a long time, i cared about something. i liked that feeling and decided it shouldn’t stop.
i refuse to feel like an outcast because i’m no longer religious, and i refuse to be quiet about gay rights, stem cell research, evolution, abortion, or anything else i’m passionate about because it may offend someone else’s beliefs.
it seems to me that there’s some unspoken rule i had agreed to. that because i don’t have a g-d or imaginary elf associated with my beliefs, they’re somehow less important. that’s simply not true.
i do not need a g-d to validate me. i do not need a hell to scare me into being a good person. i handle that all on my own. i’m out, and i’m proud.
(Via Sarah Trachtenberg)
My own atheism developed not so much out of enlightenment or disillusionment, but out of annoyance. The novelty of Hebrew school wore off after the first year (Hebrew School is where well-meaning Jewish parents send their malleable Jewish offspring, just as Christians send their children to Sunday School). Contrary to what many non-Jews think, Hebrew school’s purpose is to teach about Judaism; learning Hebrew itself is further down the list of priorities. I was required to go Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays for two and a half hours each day, in addition to services many weekends and holidays (holidays accumulated a lot over four thousand years or so). Since I didn’t want to be there, I began to ask questions to express my irritation at being forced into this particular after-school activity.
“How do we know these Bible stories really happened? Did archaeologists dig up video tapes or something? If God is everywhere, is He in the toilet? Why does God care if we pray if He can read minds? What did Noah do about all the sea animals?”
I was nine years old. These are the kind of questions any smart-ass, red-blooded American kid might have felt compelled to ask her religious and spiritual instructors, except that I came to think about them seriously. My teachers were kind and patient and explained to me that the point was to have faith, to be close to God, and that the stories themselves were not important so much as the spirit of the message. I remember a lesson we read about how tellings of events, such as the ones in the Bible, changed over time, even though the kernel of truth remained. Or did it?
Religious activities had some pretty bad associations for me, anyway. My mom reprimanded me for yawning during Saturday morning services. We had a couple of pretty bad fights after synagogue, and one time at home she ordered me to recite a prayer I was learning in Hebrew school. I just stood there, cowardly, unable to recite– I suppose I did not want to be ordered around that way and was worn down after years of “shut up and pray.” After a few endless minutes of me standing there, speechless, she prodded, “Well?” I felt berated and humiliated. If all this stuff was supposed to endear me to God, it did not; it drove me further and further away…
My mother, the religious parent who made me go to Hebrew school in the first place (my dad had a laissez faire attitude about the whole thing and my parents were getting divorced around this time, anyway), wasn’t well-pleased when I told her that I didn’t think God or the Torah were true. I started to think that scientists did not believe in God. She argued with me on that point, saying that Albert Einstein believed in God, and the more he learned about the universe, the more he believed. As an adult, I learned that that was not true, or at least it was hotly debated.
Time went on; I still resented Hebrew school. For what it was worth, many of the kids did. Kids who quit to make time for other extra-curricular activities like gymnastics were held up to us as bad examples. We were warned not to quit after our bar/bat mitzvahs, as did so many other kids, counting their money once the party was over, feeling that they had done their time. One particularly resistant kid, a year older than me, started Hebrew school and they let him start in my year, ketah dalet (fourth year), to be among his age-mates. That was not fair; if he could skip years like that, why couldn’t I? But the worst was yet to come.
(Via Ungodly Cynic)
I grew up pretty much secular/agnostic, but essentially went with the flow growing up. Looking back, I remember reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in school (public) and now resent it. I never gave any thought to religion or spirituality until I started doing drugs (namely LSD) in college (Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale). I’ll add that I haven’t traveled down that road in quite a long time.
Religion was always a non-issue up until that point.
I’ve dabbled in mostly new age and pagan stuff; Wicca and Qabala for the most part. With all seriousness I was considering Qabala to be a system I could believe in, down to getting the robes, athame, and accessories. Then, I met my wife and all that dwindled away being replaced by agnosticism.
My in-laws are church-goers and I went to Christmas with them for a few years (Methodist). I didn’t care for it and knew it was a bunch of crap, my wife knew I felt that way, but I just didn’t care about church. It didn’t matter whether I went or not. I was just there.
Later, the in-laws decided they wanted to change their denomination to Episcopal (after some “goings-on” within the Methodist church there). My wife wasn’t happy. She wasn’t angry, she just didn’t like the change. Anyway, there was a little bit of friction regarding this “change”. Needless to say it all kinda ticked me off, I guess because of the whole situation in general, and I said, “To hell with all of it, no more.”
Since. I have only gone to church once, and that was a Christening, which I would not attend today. Note: I had not “come out” to anybody yet, but only in general conversations whereas I never said: “I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in God.”
A couple years down the road my father-in-law is over and we are partaking of some beers (I rather enjoy having a few beers with him and discussing politics and current events). Most of what I remember is just flat out telling him “I’m an atheist. I don’t believe…”, after getting into some debate about a secular issue. His answer was “I feel sorry for you.” My retort: “I feel sorry for you.” And I honestly do. That was the first time I ever came “out” and told somebody. Him and I are still on speaking terms and we still love to engage in political discussions. He’s pretty open-minded about that. Though he’ll never change his stance as a true-blue Blue Dog Democrat.
I might add that the whole religious issue arising within the political spectrum in the run-up to the 2000 presidential election really got me riled up. This prompted me to find out what these particular people stood for. And I found dirty truths that drove me further to disregard such jack-asses and…to tell the truth, this (religion and politics/separation of church and state), above all else drives me ideologically.
NOT whether a god exists or not, I could give a rat’s ass about that debate. I get so incensed reading blogs written by ex-Christians debating with Christians about the existence of god. What the hell is to be proven? Or disproven? One thing remains untouchable: faith. If one wants to believe in some fairy-tale, then so be it. One other thing remains untouchable: Don’t frickin’ shove it down my throat. Because I am free to believe what the hell I damn well please to believe.
Sorry, getting heated. Why am I getting heated? Because Christians (and I am lumping them altogether) do not see the cultural implications. They don’t see that the “foundation” of religion has influenced almost every aspect of society. That their inaction and complacency enables the problems that arise from putting trust into the hands of “faithful” politicians. I don’t know how to put it any other way. When our president starts speaking in code about a “crusade”, that should tell you something unless your brain-dead about history. When our dumb-ass president says “I looked into his eyes and saw a kindred spirit.” (speaking of Putin), the same man who said “I trust God speaks through me. Without that, I couldn’t do my job.” Who does he think he is? The messiah? Seems some people do.
(Via freeflo)
reading some of the stories of courageous and deliberate action posted here, i find myself embarrassed at the mundane quality of my story. it has been said that most people grow up with the same beliefs as their parents, and i guess that’s all i did. oh, i’ve rebelled in countless, occasionally beneficial, usually self-destructive, ways. but as far as religion; opposing the worldview i was born into would have meant becoming a catholic nun or perhaps a born-again fundie!
i was born jewish to secular jews. my folks were both perhaps agnostic, probably atheist, in terms of belief in a supernatural god. (mom’s gone, dad “admits” now that he is an atheist.) however, the sense of our jewishness, our identity as jews – as a culture, a heritage, a POV, the tastes in foods, home-centered (not much synagogue-centered) family traditions, the larry david sense of humor, a feeling of being “apart”, and a slightly arrogant view of our own smarts – prevailed and colored everything. i guess – i know – i did not fall far from this tree.
my life has not been conventional or easy. as i alluded to above, i’ve spent most of my life rebelling in other ways – underachievement, dropping out of college when i was “supposed” to become “at least” an optometrist like dad, years as a hippie, drugs early on, one interracial marriage, domestic abuse, two divorces, eating disorder battles, never wanted kids, social activism, whatever…but the fact remains i’m, religiously-speaking, much like my folks – a culturally jewish atheist.
i’ve never had the slightest experience of, or need for, supernaturalism. my long-ago 15 minutes of baba ram dass “be here now” stuff was peer pressure; new age was play and decorating with candles. christianity seems dangerous to the health of both my jewish and non-believing aspects – though i thank them for so much of the world’s wonderful art and architecture. i love to learn and experience: having enjoyed a christmas eve celebration at the magnificent anglican basilica, st. john the divine, in my beloved new york city, i marvel at the artistry and beauty and majesty that humans can create.
the natural world and the mysteries of science work for me. the experience of a magnificent sunset, the profundity of looking at the exquisite specialization of a spider or sequoia and seeing evolution at work right in front of me – how can supernaturalism or superstition compete?
it was through technology – on the internet, starting especially at myspace – that my “coming out strong” as an atheist grew. reading the works of richard dawkins, sam harris, david mills,et al., being introduced to atheist groups and bloggers, joining the brights, atheist alliance, etc., enjoying the churches of the flying spaghetti monster and the invisible pink unicorn – all this has created a proud sense of community and changed me from an atheist to an Atheist…