Thursday, October 22, 2009

what we hate

A few days ago, NPR ran this story

about atheism in America. Specifically, it was about what some call "radical atheists." These are people who are not only atheist, but they are convinced that religion is a threat. So to make their case known, they go for the shock value of offending religious people.

For example, some of the atheist organizations around the country are sponsoring art exhibits which have paintings of religious leaders in shocking ways. Of course, this is nothing new.

On the one hand, this whole movement is hardly worth noticing. Look, in Iran Christians are being jailed and potentially hanged for their faith. In China, even with the lessening tension, Christians can still be harassed and persecuted. Given that, who really cares if someone wants to hang a painting of a communion wafer with a rusty nail through it.

On the other hand, it makes me think about a topic that I keep coming back to -- becoming what you hate. Children of abusers tend to abuse. Not all of them, of course, but the trend is there. Children of alcoholics tend to become alcoholic. Some of it is biological, of course. But there seems to be this tendency of doing unto others as it was done to you. I would have to think than an abused child would *swear* that he or she would *never* abuse another. Yet, statistically, there's a better than average change that this is exactly what will happen.

You see it on the national level too. People groups who are persecuted often fight back until they are the persecutors.

So with the atheists, it is interesting. Here are a group of people who are angry at religion because they feel that religious people are intolerant. And they are responding to this with intolerance.

They make infomercial, lopsided claims to support their cause, just as some of the religious people have made. So they point out that religious people sometimes become suicide bombers and terrorists, but they neglect to mention that religious people also become saints and open hospitals. And they ignore the anti-religious who have caused the deaths of thousands (they're still finding mass-graves from Stalin's regime).

Or they blame religious people for interfering with science (for example, insisting on the teaching of creation in schools). But they neglect to mention that Einstein was a Jew and Mendel was a monk.

To me, it is very interesting, this idea of becoming what one hates. I see religious people doing the same things -- the one-sided arguments and spins on reality. Look closely, and you'll see that the two groups -- the extremist atheists and the extremist religious -- are pulling from the same well. Their tools are bias information, fear, and psychological manipulation.

It is amazing, isn't it? How we imitate what we oppose? Perhaps, becoming aware of that is the first step to stopping it?

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Alive and well

The pack is a live and well in America.
All you need to do is look at the health care debate.

Do you and your friends and family feel that you have proper health care? Then your pack predetermines they you are most likely against any changes. Any changes means your pack is lessened. Who cares about those not in your pack? They are a secondary consideration.

Are you and your friends and family struggling with pre-existing conditions or loss of heath care coverage? Known any one who lost a job or a house or both because of an illness which left them bankrupt? Then you are probably all in favor of change, since the current system threatens your pack. Who cares if it works?

Unfortunately, the causality is truth. But then, it usually is. Governments always miss the last step of governing. Responsible government implies periodic check to see if programs actually work. Whatever you think of the philosophical meat behind a government action, there is a pragmatic consideration of whether it succeeds in reaching its goals. And it is a simple thing to look.

But governments never do. After all, looking for truth means there is a possibility that one may be proven wrong. And being proven wrong has a psychological cost. It is the Dick Chaney model -- never admit mistakes. Mistakes, after all, show fallibility. And fallibility will make people question.

Theologically, we see that all over. Questions are forbidden. Try to question the spiritual leader in Iran and.. well, you see the consequences -- protestors jailed, beaten, and probably killed. Question the pope, and one may get excommunicated. Question the President and one may be called a traitor or communist or some other thing. Flaws in one area imply flaws in others.
It is interesting how the interests of the pack dominate. The ideas which seem to support the preservation of the pack become dogma. The leaders who proclaim themselves worthy of defending the pack, become inerrant.

And somewhere in the whole debate is truth.
Pity it seems so unconnected to our conversations.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

9-11

Years later, I look at 9-11 as a real flashpoint in my faith.
I suppose it had that effect on lots of people. But for me, it was for an unusual reason.

Play the hypothetical game for a minute, and suppose you're a Muslim living in Jordan or someplace. Now, among your friends, there are a group of pretty strict tradionallists.

As a Christian, this isn't much of a stretch for me. I've known people in the church who collect guns to safegard against the advent of a government takeover. I've seen people use their faith as a thin cover for bigotry or sexism. I've heard people say how 9-11 was the fault of the homosexual activity in America, since God was punishing us for our sin. I've known people who said the Branch Davidians weren't so bad. Naturally, these views weren't strictly supported by the churches, but the people were there, nontheless. So it's not too much of a stretch to me to think that a moderate Muslim may have friends who are extremists.

So, bear with me. You're a Muslim in Jordan and you've a couple buddies who are a bit more strict than you. One of them outlines the 9-11 plan to you before it happens. He tells how he's going to go to the U.S. and ... well, you know the story.

And you think... "he's out of his flippin' mind" -- not just because it's evil, but because it's impossible. How could you *ever* hyjack a plane in the U.S. where the security is the envy of the world. And to do it with a box knife? Please. No way. And the buildings.. they're *huge* and solid and steele and unbreakable. Worst case, you put out a few windows.

Then.... it happens.

Now, wouldn't you think that the only way that could have happened is if it was ordained by God?

After the horror of that day, some letters that the terrorists had written were made public. If you ignore the mind-numbing "wrongness" of the content, and you look at the words, they sound very familiar. The words they used, the ideas, the faith, the providence -- those things, I have heard in Christian churches for years. Oh, the topic is differnt of course. I'm not suggesting that we can ignore the terror. But the way those people *thought*, the way they spoke about God and faith and providence is the same way churches do.

That's what shook my faith a bit. I see it still. "God told me to get a new job".... "God said I should do this".... "I overslept today for work, so I have to believe that God was making me avoid an accident or something".

It started me thinking. And questioning. It's where this blog really came from. I started to think that if those terrorists could be so sure of what they were doing, and if the coincidences could line up like that on something that was so obviously not of God, then our confidence in our beliefs must be questioned. I started to look with a new eye. And I saw similar things all over the world. I saw Hindus and Muslims and Evangelicals and Mormons and others all with the same kind of words and ideas. The details differ, naturally. But the faith is the same. And it all seems to be founded on the same things.

How its used is really, really interesting to me. But I'll save that for another time.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

the pack

The Pack. The pack defines everything in human existence. Humans are pack animals.
Three thousand years ago, it was easy. People lived in villages. Everyone in the village was in the pack. They shared the same droughts, the same famines, the same good harvests, the same wars, the same joys. Naturally, there were leaders and followers, rich and poor. But, as a group, they all prospered together and all suffered together.

The traditions and the ethics were driven by the pack. Anything that threatened the village was evil -- to be banished. A man from the village who married a woman from another village was a threat, since he broke the consistency of the pack. The genetic lines were threatened. In addition, the marriage would have brought in a threat to the pack itself. An outsider in the village could undermine the pack's stability -- could threaten the leadership and social order and violate norms and practices meant to safeguard the pack. What if she was a spy? What if she carried a plague? What if a threat to the leaders?

When the woman arrived, the villagers would have seen that the new bride as someone who looked similar. She cooked the same foods, spoke the same language, knew some of the same traditions. She went into the fields to work for the good of her new pack. And the villagers started to see that she was not a threat; she was one of them. So the pack was not threatened and she became welcomed over the years.

But imagine that a merchant from a far off land passed through with a lovely daughter. A young man in the village became stricken with her and wanted her for his own. Now, that was too much. She did not look the same. She spoke with an accent. Her traditions and food were different. In short, she was a threat to the pack. For something like that, the young man could be banished from the village. He could be cast out, even by his own family, for bringing a threat into the pack. In fact, almost all cultures have rules against marriages that cross racial or cultural lines. It simply was not considered proper. It was evil, immoral, an affront against God Himself.

All of life in those days revolved around the pack. What was good for the village was good. What threatened the village was evil. The lines of ethics were as simple as the geography that defined the pack's boundaries.

It is the same in all packs. Wolves, coyotees, gorillas, chimps, geese -- indeed all packs -- share the same ethics. A wolf who harms the pack is cast out or killed. A coyotee who regularly provides food for the pack is a hero. A gorilla who threatens the pack by challanging its leaders is pushed out.

In the same way, human packs have moral laws. And they are similarly based. Murder is immoral. Anyone who randomly kills someone on the streets is called a murderer and punished. But when the same man kills an enemy on the battlefield, the pack calls him a hero and builds a statue in his honor. It is because he is protecting the pack, of course, in the latter case, and threating it in the former.

The boundaries of the pack expanded as time moved. By the 1600's, the definition of the pack was no longer the village, but the nation. The British fought the French. The French fought the Spanish. The Spanish fought the Portuguese. The pack was still the pack, and it was still defined by geography. But the geography was no longer as restricted. And the pack bent to accommodate different dialects and traditions. Of course, the core of the pack was still the village. Normans would associate more with Britons than with people in southern France. The Welsh were seen as outsiders by the Irish, even though they were technically part of the same kingdom. It was not so much a large pack as it was a series of small packs, joined together for common survival. Such binding was seen as good, as long as the local pack was not threatened. If, for example, a famile hit in another part of the nation, a local village may send food -- unless they were fearful that sending food would weaken them. There was still a strong dividing line. Loyalty to the pack still drove ethics and actions. Other packs may be considered friendly, but never, ever to be placed ahead of one's own.

A thousand years later, the lines have changed. Geography no longer defines our packs. The airline industry, the internet, the availability of satellite broadcasting -- these things break the bounds of the geography. So the pack is no longer defined by the village. It seems obvious that the printing press was the focal point of this change. With the exchange of ideas, people started to connect more with comrades from different lands. By the Elizabethan era, many people saw themselves as Catholic first, and Spanish second. Loyalty to the local pack was maintained because of the strong connection between religion and culture. But the threat was no longer to just the village, but to the culture itself. The lines of the pack shifted from geographical boundaries to ideological, theological, philosophical, and cultural ones.

But humans are pack animals. We need packs. If the pack is no longer defined by the village, it must be defined by something else. So all over the world, this shift continues. In Iran, for example, the particular branch of Islam is defined by the traditions that date back farther than anyone can remember. These traditions tie the religious practices with the Persian history to create a theology that is different from the Islam of Iraq, even though the two are neighbors. Throughout the world, pockets of culture emerge. This culture is the sum of the experiences of the pack. it revolves around language and history and religious ideology. However, as the geographical lines have blurred, the cultural icons have spread of themselves. And taken on lives of their own.

Christianity, which started in the ancient Near East and took root in Europe, has now spread across geographic and traditional boundaries. Islam, Buddhism and other major religions have as well. As the geographical lines have blurred, so have some of the cultural. To be sure, the practices of a Christian in Africa look very different from the practices of a Christian in Europe. Each culture morphs the theology into something it can recognize. A Catholic celebration in Mexico may look and feel very different from an Anglican wedding in London. In spite of the differences, there is still a commonality. The lines of the pack have shifted. And some of the believers in London feel a closer brotherhood to the Christians in Mexico City than they do to their own neighbors down the street. In the same way, a Catholic in southern India may feel much closer to the the Catholics in Mexico than the Hindus just a few miles away. The pack is less about geography today than it is about ideology.

It is, of course, a world in transition. And some areas of the world retain the ancient notion of pack. For them, they identify still with the village or the nation or the culture. Sadam Hussan regularly pointed out how he was a Babalonian while the Iranians were mere Persians. And, naturally, he was not alone in this assessment.

But there trend is sure. The connection to geography wains. While the connection to the ideology is based in cultural and geographical roots, it is still distinct from them. Today, the pack is defined by political party or religion or solcal status or educational level. But it is still the pack. And it has its own rules, just as the pack always has. And it has threats. As before, anything that threatens the pack is still considered evil. While anything that boosts the pack is considered good.

For better or worse, this creates a huge challange for humanity. While some are still rooted in a pack based on geography or culture, others are embracing a culture based on economic level or political ideology or another of a thousand connections. Further, the connections are variable. The connection is based on a wide array of different things. It is not a spiritual connection only, nor is it a political or humanistic one. It varies on whatever is important to the individual. Further, it varies for any individual during a lifetime. The wilde idealism in ones youth may give way to a economic materialsm of middle age, then to a gentle spiritualism in ones old age. So one changes packs throughout ones life. During these times of change, the individual will often find confusion, stress and uncertainty. The laws of good and evil bend as the pack changes. The ethics of good and evil are defined by what prospers or harms the pack.

But what is the pack? Its boundaries have vanished. They are no longer locked by the river that defines the borders of the village. They are ideological, mutating, vague and blury. A Christian in New York who wants to help the poor may now connect with a Bhudast in Tokoyo to help a poor Hindu in Calcuta. And the Christian now may define his pack to include the Bhudist and the Hindu more than to include the Christain who perhaps disagrees with the specifics humanitarianism.

As society moves forward, it important to understand this. What fuels a person to fight or kill? Why does it seem to be impossible for some people to live together? Why is it that nations like Somalia can have infinite resources -- port cities, shipping lanes, gold, fertile soil, ample water -- and destroy all prosperity by wars?

Often, the answer is the pack. The Somalis are not so much a nation as a collection of packs. Some of them feel the rival packs are a threat. So they fight, even when fighting does not pursue their own best interest. Across the world, there are Islamisist who see themselves as connected to a non-geographical pack. In that, they seek to spread their teaching in a hope of boosting their pack.

Meanwhile there are packs defined by Western ideologies. Anything that is a threat to capalism or economic growth is seen as an evil. So, indeed, is trillions of dollars spent to bolster the economy. Because economic struggles threaten the pack -- but the pack is not made up by geographical lines anymore. Rather these lines are capitalistic. Anyone who shares the same economic system and lives in the same economic villiage is a member of the pack. While people who see themselves in other packs -- say Bhudist monks -- do not see an economic crisis as an evil. Rather they may view it as a common event, as if economic systems follow the same laws of balance that all of nature does.

Throughout the world, this defines humanity. It adds challanges to all the negotiations, since different packs understand different priorities. There is, in fact, very little comonality. Some packs are based on theology or tradition. To these, any threat to the pack comes from that which compromises the religion or its traditions. Economic prosperity is to be accepted only if it does not threaten the traditions of the pack. To them, it is the tradition that defines the pack. Remove that, and the pack dissolves.

Others define their pack by race or culture. Some African nations are engulfed in wars that are rooted in the racial and ethnic threats of the past. When two packs had threatened each other in the past, those old wounds often linger. If these packs have an ethnic connection, they often persist. To these groups, the threat to the pack is ethnic. Destroy the ethnicity and the pack disolves. To them, religious differences can be tolerated. Economic prosperity must be sought, but only if it does not threaten the ethnicity. That is the pack.

Understand the pack and one understands the conflict. Mis-understand the pack, and one will never connect with the conflict or its resolution.