10.21.09
Excerpts From An Apostate’s Letter To Family
Dr. Sagan’s quote, that “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence” seems to fit in here and is the sole reason why I no longer believe in a literal interpretation of the Genesis creation story, or that Earth ever experienced a global flood, or that the sun stood still in the sky, or that the Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years. There is not just a lack of evidence, but evidence to the contrary. And, as it follows, if the material claims of the Bible can not be substantiated, how am I supposed to take the spiritual claims seriously?
…Do you entertain the claims made by Mormons or Muslims or Moonies? You do not. Because there is no reason to. When you (rightly) ignore the empty claims made by other religions it is because they do not pass through the filters of reason set up by your prefrontal cortex. Of course, these other religions make the same exception you do about their inability to give evidence for their claims. You must, they say, on faith accept that Mohammad ascended into the sky on a winged horse, or that Native Americans are descendants of Israel or that Sun Myung Moon is the Messiah. Unsurprisingly, you don’t accept these absurd claims. And you shouldn’t. But consider for a moment the claims made by Christianity in light of the same standard you set for evaluating the claims made by other religions.
When you determine that the Catholic claim of immaculate conception is ridiculous, you are using reason. When you determine that the Pentecostal practice of glossolalia is useless, you are using reason. When you conclude that the Lutheran latching-on of the doctrine of infant baptism is absurd, you are using reason. How is it that the beliefs you hold are exempt from this same kind of rational scrutiny? Before you’re tempted to retreat from the question by responding, “I am able to discern truth because the Holy Spirit guides me”, consider the probability that, of all of the 38,000 different denominations within Christianity alone and of all the different beliefs, that your particular portfolio of beliefs are all of the correct ones.
Isn’t it time we recognize reason as a gift and begin subjecting our own beliefs to the same scrutiny and criticism that we use in every other area of our lives? (bold mine)
10.05.09
Emma’s Mind and Voice
I’m excited about the kind of freedoms Emma will enjoy in her future. She seems to be showing signs of the kind of strengths her mother has, which makes me beam with pride. Emma has a wonderfully intelligent and articulate mother who refuses to except ridiculous cultural restraints, often attempting to limit her choices to crass ultimatums.
1 Timothy 2:
11A woman must quietly receive instruction with entire submissiveness.
12But I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet.
13For it was Adam who was first created, and then Eve.
14And it was not Adam who was deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression.
15But women will be preserved through the bearing of children if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint.
I’m so happy that Emma lives in an era where a proper recognition of the potential freedoms (spiritual, political, cultural, etc.) and already existing strengths among women has improved so much. There’s still plenty of room for improvement… and yet, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if I hear from others in the future that Emma has helped them personally or professionally to embrace strengths they didn’t know they had, and live healthier lives ( mind and body) as a result.
I know this is highly probable because I’ve seen examples of this kind of empowering influence demonstrated by her mother.
03.24.09
…Pants On Fire!
It was more than 30 years ago that I started praying on my bed every night of my childhood…
“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Amen.”
It was more than 25 years ago, while reading over, again and again and again…
“For God so loved the world,
That He gave His only begotten son,
That whosoever believeth in Him
Should not perish,
But have everlasting life.
John 3:16.”
…I cried through a prayer, thanking Jesus “for dying for my sins”.
It was more than 30 years ago that I started praying before every meal up until my late teens…
“Come Lord Jesus, be our guest,
Let this food to us be blessed.
Amen.”
During my teens my bed-time prayers became increasingly personal, expressing many of the thoughts some may write in a diary (or fear to). Many of those prayers were filled with emotional expressions like a warm smile or a flood of tears.
I was born into a family and culture that have been Christian for generations. I was not taught that I should skeptically look for empirical evidence of the existence of God. I was taught to develop critical arguments to defend the particular version of theology passed on to me from family, church, and Bible School. But questioning the existence of God or the bible as God’s revelation wasn’t a consideration. And while playing guitar and singing songs (some written by yours truly) in at least 4 Christian Rock bands across Canada and into Australia, I still never considered acknowledging the viewpoint of those who haven’t taken on the presupposition that God is real and he reveals it in his Son and the Spirit that worked through the Biblical writers.
After about the first 6 or 7 years of Bible College I came to an understanding that it is healthy to listen to everything others say with a skeptical mind in order to have an informed sense of trust or mistrust (or both) in what they say. After a summer of preaching, leading worship and youth groups at an average-sized church in Winnipeg, I continued to pursue a Master of Divinity. When my pride in my acquired seminary training in theology had somewhat subsided, I re-discovered that it was also healthy to be skeptical of my own assumptions – not just for intellectual growth, but also to benefit how I relate to others.
Just recently it has been suggested to me by someone who has known me (or at least about me) since I was born that either I’ve been lying throughout my two active (ie.blog) years as an atheist about being an atheist, convincing all those close to me..
OR
I lied throughout my 30+ years as a Christian about being a Christian, convincing all those close to me.
Maybe I lied about both! That’s right, folks! I am THAT good of a fraud! I have consistently fooled all those close to me through every word and action of mine concerning my heartfelt fundamental beliefs!
01.05.09
Technologically Impaired
Picture this: a ‘Jack-of-All-Trades’ father having a philosophizing daydreamer for a firstborn son. Yep, that’s my Dad and me. Here’s another interesting comparison – I’m a ‘Generation X’ guy with a Mennonite heritage, but my ‘Baby-Boomer’ Dad is the gadget man. And my lack of skills with any type of gadget would probably destine me to a passive Luddite lifestyle if it wasn’t for my family’s (wife, Dad, brothers, father-in-law) assistance.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve no moral prohibitions against all uses of technology. I’m aware that there are plenty of ethical uses of all sorts of machinery. If our collection of gadgets fill our bank accounts instead of draining them, and the mechanical world around us requires far less of our time than we require of it, fire up the machines!
But when the power of machinery is in the hands of governments and corporations, I become suspicious.
To me, it seems like they use technology to provide easy (and sometimes far from easy!) access to their product/service without a human face that actually responds to me, the citizen/customer. Sometimes I feel like I’m treated as a preconceived, computer generated, version of the average customer/citizen… And there’s no time or interest in a conversation about the transactions being made.
(Before I go any further, I suppose those who think the mediums of blogging and emailing to be too cold and relationally distant may deem this post ‘ironic’ and ‘contradictory’. I’ve heard it said more than a few times that ‘this kind of technology is used to segregate oneself from society’. However, comparing blogging and emailing with face to face communication might make it seem that way, but even face to face communication can be used in the coldest and most relationally distant way, segregating one’s vulnerability from any listener just two feet away. Blogging and emailing is, in fact, another way to share one’s vulnerabilities with those you know and those you have yet to know.)
And so, my concern is the question of unhealthy versions of segregation in our technologically advanced society. Because I know there are times and places in our lives when/where we need to segregate ourselves from part of the world. Be it with our families, with just our spouses, or a moment of solitude. Sometimes segregation can, I think, be equated with solace.
In the meantime, my impression of our attempt to progress as a technological society is missing some important human factors. Mainly, in the manner of communication between ourselves and governments or corporations. But this may be more of a personal issue than a public one. I don’t know. After all, I’m the one who is ‘Technologically Impaired’.
P.S. – here’s a somewhat related video that I find myself playing now and then, for some odd reason. 
12.11.07
Defining Love
“Love” is one of those words that are mutually expressed in conversation despite a lack of mutual understanding in its meaning.
Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love. (1 John 4:7-8 NASB)
According to this biblical passage, either there’s no such thing as an atheist or atheists cannot experience true love. Both are presupposed fallacies and possible explanations for the confusion over “what I believe”. I assume, when people say they just don’t know what I believe anymore, what their really wondering is where does my heart find meaning and purpose, what is it attached to or what does it rest on. In other words, where does my heart find security and significance?
I find, though, when I respond to this concern my answer is never good enough for a religious person. Maybe it’s because a religious person sees my life as cheated out of the extras in their lives, I don’t know. They have an extra reality called the supernatural. They have an extra life beyond the grave. They have an extra Being who is extra extra powerful and extra extra knowing. And because of all these extras, they have extra hopes for the future.
I think my life has just as much depth and fullness (sometimes more, sometimes less) than any religious person. So, if I do the math, I can only assume that I’ve been able to take greater advantage of the meaning naturally gleamed from this world than some others have. But my point is not to create a hierarchy of meaningful lives here. Rather, it is to emphasize the opportunities atheists have to enrich their lives here on earth. Now, to answer the interest in where my heart finds security and significance: I believe in Life and the Love it creates.
Whether life is intelligently designed or love is attributed to a god (Ishtar, Aphrodite, Freya, Radha, Jesus, Kama, and so on), I find security and significance among all the living and a world of exploration in the love that life creates. That’s right. I think life, good old fashioned naturalistic life created love. Yet some have told me that the evolutionary reasons (survival) for the naturalistic world to have created love diminishes love’s meaning. I fail to understand this kind of reasoning because I just don’t see how the evolutionary process diminishes love’s meaning – unless your losing some mystical extras presumed in love’s definition.
I think a close association between God, Life and Love makes some worshipers feel that an attempt to clarify what ‘love’ is would be irreverent or impossible because the true meaning of love is ineffable in the mystical sense. And even for those of us who feel our experience of real, beautiful love cannot be diminished by any explanation of it, we fear the loss of our own meaning of the word, our own poetical definition from the depths of our being that need not be mystical to be ineffable.
Sometimes I wish we could just eliminate words like ‘love’ and create a new word for each of the many meanings that can be found in it. Some languages do this already. Take the five Greek words for ‘love’, for instance. In the Greek, the words “Xenia,” “Storge,” “Eros,” “Agape,” and “Philia” are all translated into the English word “Love”. (If you’ve grown up going to church, you’ve probably heard these definitions with extreme emphasis on Agape as Godly love that completely outshines all others, even though the others, we are told, are not without purpose.)
After re-exploring the five Greek concepts of love, I discovered I already had my own personal revamped definitions of love too:
XENIA (known as love offered to strangers) = a consented act of service between those of their own species.
STORGE (known as family love) = a consented act of service between those considered a refuge.
AGAPE (known as unconditional love) = supporting humanity’s instinct for Xenia and/or Storge with a dutiful commitment to the political/social necessity of Xenia and/or Storge despite the lack of happiness found there in.
EROS (known as erotic desire) = a consented act of service between those with a mutual sexual attraction.
PHILIA (known as friendship love) = a consented act of service between those with a mutual attraction of minds; ’soul mates’
(Notice how my definitions of Xenia, Storge, and Agape do not require or rely on the consciousness of physical or emotional feelings to perform the acts of love. Eros, however, does require a consciousness of one’s physical feelings; and Philia requires a consciousness of one’s emotional feelings.)
Now that I’ve articulated my current definitions of love, I’ll be analyzing them, contemplating overlaps or the lack there of, and looking to read material out there that will restore the true definitions of the greek words while helping me to develop my own.
04.07.07
Definition of Hell
Hell: having family (and/or friends) consider the possibility that you deserve to suffer for an eternity because you don’t have imaginary conversations with a guy you’ve never met (a guy, who people of questionable objectivity, described two thousand years ago as a loving Creator BUT willing to remain unaffiliated with children of his forever).
I find it interesting when people who abhor the practice of fortune-telling are so eager to be fortune-tellers of the soul.
02.11.07
Family Guy
While Becky and I show off our beautiful grrrl to everybody, it’s interesting to hear the comments from people when they hold Emma in their arms and talk about family life. They’ll talk about their experiences raising children and ask how ours has been developing. And then, some, will comment on how it wasn’t long ago that I was looking and sounding like someone far from this experience.
People often commented on my singlehood before I met Becky. Some wondered if I was gay because they didn’t see me dating girls (I guess they thought I’d hide my boyfriends somewhere). I often say I was a “hermit” for a number of years, even though hermits rarely live in cities. I was definitely a loner.
People got confused when I answered their concerns about me with, “I’m not closed to getting married in the future.” They’d follow with a look on their face that said, “Then, get on with it!” So I’d say, “But I’m not on the hunt, either.” Which would frustrate them as well. I didn’t run away from girls. I had plenty of friends that were girls, but I found myself enjoying my alone time more than alot of the time I spent with friends. When I’d admit that to others, I became suspicious if they thought I was becoming one of those psycho-killer loners (wouldn’t you wonder if you saw a hint of fear on peoples’ faces when you admitted your reclusive nature).
I was very picky. I wasn’t gonna just get together with any girl. I didn’t know much about what kind of girl I wanted to get romantically involved with, but I was certain what I didn’t want. I knew I wanted someone I thought to be intelligent, someone who had a common-sense/wisdom about the world, someone who was aware, not blinded or chose to blind-fold herself from what was out there or right in front of her face. I wanted someone who I was attracted to, for many reasons. I wanted an independent girl, courageous, yet graceful.
Then I met Becky.
Two to three outings and I was smitten. I found myself calling this grrrl constantly while thinking to myself, “Why am I doing this? This isn’t me. I don’t have feelings for her, do I?” My mind had yet to comprehend what had happened to me. I was in love. I didn’t know it, but it soon became clear.
Not long after being a couple, I admitted to Becky that I felt like we were married. She said she felt the same way. That settled it.
I use to warn family and friends, “I may never get married, I may never have children.” And here I am, a family guy. Today marks the day I’ve been married to my beautiful wife for two years. I’m even more smitten than I was before. And sharing parenthood has also brought Becky and I closer together.
Looking back, I don’t regret or think bitterly about my “hermit days”. If I was still there, I’d be happy, not regretting being single either. But that’s not my destiny. My destiny is a life with a beautiful, intelligent woman and a cute daughter. It’s been a great journey, a journey that gets better with age.
02.08.07
Baby Dreamer
I’ve been told, babies are constantly in REM sleep when they sleep. Meaning, they are always dreaming when they sleep. Which makes me wonder — what are they dreaming about?
I’ve seen my little Emma show a variety of facial expressions when she is dreaming. I’ve also heard her make some interesting noises while she sleeps, too. There are the simple smiles and cries, but they’re varied in kind. Our dreaming usually involves material from our experiences. So, what kind of dreams could a baby make from experiences gathered for only one, two, or even three weeks?
01.23.07
Coaching My Champ
So we wouldn’t forget, Becky and I both decided to write about our time at the hospital when our family of two became a family of three.
We arrived at the hospital at 1:30 p.m. We found out she was dilated at 5-6 cm. The resident doctor asked if Becky wanted the epidural, and Becky said softly, “Yes.” I followed immediately after with a prominent “YES,” revealing my need to protect my love from pain. The doctor saw that our message was clear and said that there was a line up for the epidurals, but it wouldn’t be long.
I got the odd chuckle from doctors and nurses when they saw that I always had my pocket watch in hand, timing contractions, how far they were apart, and how many there were in the last hour. But they didn’t seem to mind when I had all the information about Becky’s record of contractions over the last hour, afternoon, day, or the last couple of days.
At 4pm I began to worry how long it would take for Becky to get her epidural. She could be dilating faster than the epidural line was moving and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it! So I went to find the nurses to communicate my concerns. I know they caught the urgency in my voice but I don’t know if that was the reason they bumped Becky up in the line. Either way I was glad to see that they finally took us up to the delivery room for Becky’s epidural at 5 p.m.
But then, as some of you may have read in Becky’s post, we waited up to an hour everytime (4 times!) after postponements of the epidural. Becky’s first nurse (who stayed the most with Becky) said, “You are, undeniably, the best patient I’ve ever had… and I’m talking about the best out of my good patients.” Becky was awesome. She was an athelete while she worked through her contractions, dilating up to 7 cm.
Finally, the epidural was in, which was another pain hurdle for Becky. The aneasthesiologist was pretty impressed with her too. Not long after, Becky said, “Oooo, this feels nice.” Then we joked about her becoming addicted, or at least — highly recommending the drug to others. With the pain gone, we waited and watched as the moniter revealed a declining blood pressure number.
After her water was broke by another resident doctor, Becky was also given some natural hormones to help things along. Eventually, she was fully dilated at 10 cm but still waiting for the baby to move down from a “-1 position”. While we waited, we enjoyed listening to music and watching the monitor spit out rolls of paper revealing a record of her contractions.
At 5:20 a.m. our doctor, with the resident doctor, were prepared to help Becky with her delivery. I so badly wanted to cry while Becky was experiencing the pain of getting Emma out into the world. But she needed a strong, stable partner. She needed a familiar, secure voice beside her. I found this out fast after about the third time of running back and forth from the sink to cool off the damp cloth to wipe her face and forehead. She started pushing early (due to an early contraction) and I was a second or two late for the count. She said, with a sound of desparation in her voice, “You’re not counting!” I never missed a beat after that.
Aside from Becky’s pushing and my counting, crazy Becky found a moment or two to provide a source of comic relief for everyone in the room by commenting on the need to hear that she had been making MORE progress than “a little,” and asked to put the baby back in her pre-labor position. That’s my wife. No wonder why I fell in love with her.
Somewhere in the middle of Becky’s 80 minute labor we also shared an “I love you” between one of the contractions/pushing that reminded us both of the “us” that has been there since two years ago. I kept running my fingers through her hair (the way she likes) and reminded her of how strong she is. Then our doctor grabbed my attention, pointing out that my baby’s head was showing!
I could actually see the great progress Becky was making with her pushes and consoled her with this knowledge through the following contractions. For the last bit Becky was told to make short pushes so she wouldn’t hurt herself more than she needed to. Our talented doctor was truly on top of things. She quickly moved the umbilical cord that was wrapped around the baby’s neck and gently held/helped the baby while Becky pushed our child out.
“IT’S A GIRL!” said our doctor. We were so happy. Becky said, “I wanted a girl!” Then we went on and on about how beautiful she was while tears fell from our eyes. The resident doctor asked if I’d like to do the ceremonial cutting of the umbilical cord. I confidently said, “Yes” and after, the baby was wisked away to be washed by the nurse and checked by our doctor. It wasn’t long and our baby girl, our Emma, was in our arms stealing our hearts.
Becky and I are so happy. This experience of bringing Emma into the world has brought her and I even closer together than we were before.
