The Unwilling Agnostic- Part One
So I recently finished The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, which, to put it minimally, blew my mind. Following a few days of careful thought, I wanted to devote a few blog entries to my thoughts on it. In this one, I wanted to address my own reluctance to brand myself an atheist and how my views have changed.
We're all familiar with the stereotyping associated with a so-called "atheist." This is unfortunately not limited to writings by hardcore conservative activists; on the contrary, I (a self-professed bleeding-heart liberal) also harbored much negativity toward the concept. First, I viewed atheism as a statement of belief in a lack of spirituality. As an Eastern philosophy enthusiast, I loathed the idea of being associated with such a concept. I pride myself on my idealism regarding the necessity of the connections between everything in this world, and I felt that atheism directly contradicted my belief in such a force. Second, I subconsciously associated atheism with a lack of ethical absolutism, which I viewed as an admirable trait. Third, I was influenced by my own Jewish heritage to irrevocably associate religion with my roots. Rejecting religion outright seemed to me to be denying the value of the community in which I grew up and the culture to which I am part. Finally, like many of my so-called agnostic peers, I feared dismissing others' beliefs in favor of a "radical" statement that there is absolutely no God. It was easier to classify myself as agnostic, which, although it is met with mild disapproval from more religious parties, most moderates can tolerate without too much hysteria.
It is easy to hide behind a mask of agnosticism. Agnostics do not openly dismiss and reject the idea of an omniscient, omnipotent God, making their positions "less offensive" and easier to defend against faith-based criticism. It is easier to argue the concept of a "natural god" (which I will address in a moment) versus a supernatural god in the context of agnosticism. In the course of a discussion, an agnostic needs only to say "I don't think that this can be proven one way or another," to gain some form of acceptance from moderately religious peers. An atheist lacks this tool; he or she is immediately marked as an extremist (not to mention an unpopular, unethical one), whereas an agnostic could conceivably be labelled a believer by people who take a more liberal view of God.
However, Richard Dawkins made some extremely compelling arguments about this that led me to rethink my position. In this blog, I want to address my first misconception: atheism as a precursor to lacking spirituality. Dawkins argues that a belief in a natural "god" and a supernatural god are diametric, not along a continuum, as I had previously thought. Belief in this natural "god" (or Einsteinian god) is actually a deep reverance for nature, which does not, in and of itself, possess a higher purpose or goal. I had previously failed to differentiate between these two ideas. I was already convinced that there is no supernatural, personal god looking down on us with some higher purpose in mind, nor did I believe in some mystical being who loved us from above and answered prayers. I had already believed that our sense of purpose is created by us, and the power of prayer is the result of its introspective consequences. However, I had felt that my deep belief in a natural force connecting all life to this world and this universe implied that I believed in some higher power.
Einstein said, "I have never imputed to Nature a purpose or a goal, or anything that could be understood as anthromorphic. What I see in Nature is a magnificent structure that we can comprehend only very imperfectly, and that must fill a thinking person with a feeling of humility. This is a genuinely religious feeling that has nothing to do with mysticism." Dawkins is the first person to call attention to the fact that because I do not believe in mysticism or a mystical god, my spirituality is atheistic. I had never considered such a possibility, but then I realized that my "god" was a far, far cry from the vengeful Abrahamic God. My god is not supernatural in nature. My god is what Dawkins calls "pantheistic," which is "a non-supernatural synonym for Nature, or for the Universe, or for the lawfulness that governs its workings."
This was the first time that I realized, however, that belief in such a force is as legitimately spiritual, if not more so, than belief in a supernatural God. As Dawkins says, why is blind belief considered to be a virtue, whereas honest scientific questioning, blasphemy? This thoroughly contradicts the progress that we have made as human beings; it contradicts what appears to be the "natural order" of human curiosity. Even the most religious people would freely admit that modern life (despite the secularists!) is an improvement in many ways over medieval life, or life during the biblical times. For example, those who believe that life is sacred and that we must do all that we can to preserve it must have some respect for modern medicine's healing powers. (Dawkins takes the importance of differentiating between the two types of spirituality a step further, which will be the subject of a later blog.)
We're all familiar with the stereotyping associated with a so-called "atheist." This is unfortunately not limited to writings by hardcore conservative activists; on the contrary, I (a self-professed bleeding-heart liberal) also harbored much negativity toward the concept. First, I viewed atheism as a statement of belief in a lack of spirituality. As an Eastern philosophy enthusiast, I loathed the idea of being associated with such a concept. I pride myself on my idealism regarding the necessity of the connections between everything in this world, and I felt that atheism directly contradicted my belief in such a force. Second, I subconsciously associated atheism with a lack of ethical absolutism, which I viewed as an admirable trait. Third, I was influenced by my own Jewish heritage to irrevocably associate religion with my roots. Rejecting religion outright seemed to me to be denying the value of the community in which I grew up and the culture to which I am part. Finally, like many of my so-called agnostic peers, I feared dismissing others' beliefs in favor of a "radical" statement that there is absolutely no God. It was easier to classify myself as agnostic, which, although it is met with mild disapproval from more religious parties, most moderates can tolerate without too much hysteria.
It is easy to hide behind a mask of agnosticism. Agnostics do not openly dismiss and reject the idea of an omniscient, omnipotent God, making their positions "less offensive" and easier to defend against faith-based criticism. It is easier to argue the concept of a "natural god" (which I will address in a moment) versus a supernatural god in the context of agnosticism. In the course of a discussion, an agnostic needs only to say "I don't think that this can be proven one way or another," to gain some form of acceptance from moderately religious peers. An atheist lacks this tool; he or she is immediately marked as an extremist (not to mention an unpopular, unethical one), whereas an agnostic could conceivably be labelled a believer by people who take a more liberal view of God.
However, Richard Dawkins made some extremely compelling arguments about this that led me to rethink my position. In this blog, I want to address my first misconception: atheism as a precursor to lacking spirituality. Dawkins argues that a belief in a natural "god" and a supernatural god are diametric, not along a continuum, as I had previously thought. Belief in this natural "god" (or Einsteinian god) is actually a deep reverance for nature, which does not, in and of itself, possess a higher purpose or goal. I had previously failed to differentiate between these two ideas. I was already convinced that there is no supernatural, personal god looking down on us with some higher purpose in mind, nor did I believe in some mystical being who loved us from above and answered prayers. I had already believed that our sense of purpose is created by us, and the power of prayer is the result of its introspective consequences. However, I had felt that my deep belief in a natural force connecting all life to this world and this universe implied that I believed in some higher power.
Einstein said, "I have never imputed to Nature a purpose or a goal, or anything that could be understood as anthromorphic. What I see in Nature is a magnificent structure that we can comprehend only very imperfectly, and that must fill a thinking person with a feeling of humility. This is a genuinely religious feeling that has nothing to do with mysticism." Dawkins is the first person to call attention to the fact that because I do not believe in mysticism or a mystical god, my spirituality is atheistic. I had never considered such a possibility, but then I realized that my "god" was a far, far cry from the vengeful Abrahamic God. My god is not supernatural in nature. My god is what Dawkins calls "pantheistic," which is "a non-supernatural synonym for Nature, or for the Universe, or for the lawfulness that governs its workings."
This was the first time that I realized, however, that belief in such a force is as legitimately spiritual, if not more so, than belief in a supernatural God. As Dawkins says, why is blind belief considered to be a virtue, whereas honest scientific questioning, blasphemy? This thoroughly contradicts the progress that we have made as human beings; it contradicts what appears to be the "natural order" of human curiosity. Even the most religious people would freely admit that modern life (despite the secularists!) is an improvement in many ways over medieval life, or life during the biblical times. For example, those who believe that life is sacred and that we must do all that we can to preserve it must have some respect for modern medicine's healing powers. (Dawkins takes the importance of differentiating between the two types of spirituality a step further, which will be the subject of a later blog.)