Martin Luther was once quoted as saying, "Reason is the enemy of faith."
I've always appreciated Luther for being the first Protestant. Which is rather lame, considering that for quite some time Protestants have been responsible for far more evil than Catholics. It wasn't Catholics who staffed Auschwitz, shut down an entire public school district in Virginia to avoid integration, built the Creation Science Museum, or picketed a military funeral as a protest against homosexuality.
Anyway, Luther makes the same mistake that most modern people do: fails to distinguish between
rational and irrational faith. The example I've posted on this forum many times, although the number of years keeps increasing: My wife has been unwaveringly tolerant, loving and loyal to me for 34 years (now exactly half of my life). Based upon this
empirical evidence, it is
rational of me to have
faith that she will continue to do so. This faith does not have the weight of a scientific theory: true beyond a reasonable doubt; but it has enough support for me to sensibly regard it as a constant in my life and make plans on the assumption that it will continue.
Religious beliefs, on the other hand, are not based on empirical evidence. They are based on trust in the people who taught them the beliefs, even though as they grow older they realize that those people were similarly taught by their elders, and so on back beyond the Dark Ages into an era when people also believed that the world was flat and that draining blood out of a sick person would make him healthy. This is
argument by authority, which everyone who has attended a halfway decent university knows is arguably the worst of all types of fallacies. This makes religious belief an
irrational faith.
Faith can be supported by reason, or it can be revealed by reason to be balderdash. That's a world of difference.
One of the biggest reasons I haven't given up all religious faith completely is I ask myself the question: "What's left?" All too often the answer I get is a nihilistic wasteland devoid of any existential purpose.
Religion is merely one of the things our species has brought to this planet. There are many others. I'm a musician and a music lover and I regard music as the most wonderful thing that exists in the universe: mankind's crowning achievement. In fact the only aspect of Christianity I appreciate (besides the ephemeral pleasures of Christmas trees and Easter baskets) is its music.
But on a larger scale, mankind's truly greatest achievement is civilization. Our species is the only one to develop both the will and the power to transcend nature. We have transcended
external nature by turning rocks into tools, installing roofs between our heads and the rain, harnessing fire, creating new types of plants that grow at our bidding, changing wild animals into livestock and companions, discovering the secret of turning chemical energy into kinetic energy, even unlocking the mystery of subatomic particles. We have transcended our own
internal nature by overriding our pack-social instinct to live in nomadic tribes of a few dozen hunting and gathering extended-family members who regard other tribes as hated competitors for scarce resources, and supplanting it with reasoned and learned behavior in which tens of millions of total strangers live more-or-less in harmony and cooperation, steadily (although not exactly monotonically) building a more remarkable world that appears to have no limit, except more limits of nature which we continue to overcome.
I think civilization is awesome and I'm immensely proud to be part of it; not just an inhabitant but one of its crafters. I find this much more thrilling than a bunch of Bronze Age legends about the proper way to keep women and slaves in their place.
Also, I find that parts of the Christian message fulfill deep emotional needs for me. We all have a dark, irrational part to ourselves which exists along side our rational side. Religion can often meet the needs of our irrational selves, even when views are hopelessly archaic (think Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth).
Mrs. Fraggle was a big Joseph Campbell fan when she was working on her master's degree, and we even attended one of his last lectures before he died.
But his popularization of Jungian psychology teaches us that archetypes (instinctive beliefs which, armed with more knowledge of genetics than Jung had, we now know are programmed into our synapses by our DNA, either priorities that had been survival traits in eras whose dangers we can't imagine, or random mutations passed down through genetic bottlenecks) have existed in every culture in every era. Christianity is merely one of the more recent cultural phenomena that presents these archetypes dressed up in stories that we find familiar and comforting.
If you lived in Ancient Greece, Egypt, Mesoamerica, or any pre-Abrahamic culture, you would have had these same archetypes dressed up in stories that resonated with the other elements of your culture. And you might very well have gotten more out of them, because the flaw in Abrahamism is its bizarre constriction of the rich 23-dimensional traditional pantheon, representing the balance of instinctive forces tugging at the human spirit, into a pathetic one-dimensional model in which everything we think, do, want or hope is ranked on a linear scale between "good" and "evil," reminiscent of the bonehead legislation passed by modern governments.
For many lapsed Catholics, midnight Mass on Christmas Eve is very important to them on many levels that are hard to explain. For much of the year, they may be secular people, but they still seek out a religious experience, even if for only a few hours a year.
As I pointed out earlier in this thread, I get that same thrill out of the deep philosophical issues raised in non-religious literature, even popular literature such as film and TV. Religion has no monopoly on the exposition of archetypes. I'm sure Mrs. Fraggle has read the entire works of Shakespeare more times than the average Christian has read the Bible, and I suspect she's gotten much more out of them.
Why does a person say "I believe in Jesus" except for indoctrination into the Bible or some offshoot of the Bible. Why does a person say "I believe in the Bible" except for indoctrination, typically of a more insidious nature, that denies history and science.
Archetypes are not to be taken lightly. Religion presents us with motifs that are drifting around deep inside us, and they resonate. This is why it's so easy to
assume that religious stories are true. Things that you have
known since birth feel more true to you than any knowledge you have acquired by learning and reasoning subsequently.
To say "Jesus died for our sins" is no more significant than to say "Socrates died for honor". They are both ancient figures, one who left no credible record of his existence, the other whose credibility is historical. The quest for Jesus in this context (died for me) surrenders the quest for credible evidence to determine why the story of Jesus ever arose.
It's very difficult to win over a religious person with logic and empirical evidence. They're running on something that they feel has been part of them since they were born.
Nonetheless, it's not impossible. We have many archetypal instincts that have not been co-opted by religion. For example, virtually all animals have an instinct to flee from a large animal with both eyes in front of its face. Any animal that doesn't run away from a predator will not live long enough to bear young, so its bloodline dies off pretty quickly. A century ago, when motion pictures were just coming out and when there were still a few parts of the world in which pre-modern people lived almost totally insulated from civilization, Westerners introduced a few Africans to movies--by (helpfully, they thought) showing them a film shot in Africa. As soon as a scene appeared on the screen in which a lion was running toward the viewers, every single person jumped out of his seat and bolted from the theater, screaming. Even though they knew it wasn't real, the
archetypal instinct, of the lion as the animal to be feared above all others, was so powerful that they couldn't make their legs stop running or their voices stop shouting until they were safely outside.
Yet today, we take our children to zoos where the lions are
live, and it's unusual for one of them to run away screaming. By training them very young, we are able to teach them to override their instinctive fear of predators. (Having a domesticated wolf in the house for a baby to play with helps a lot too.
)
This is just another step in our transcendence of our internal nature. After all, it's only been a few hundred generations since we invented agriculture and began living in villages with people outside our family, and that's not nearly long enough for evolution to rewire our instincts. We teach our children that civilization is better than nomadic hunting and gathering, and they learn to suppress their Stone Age instincts. (Most of the time anyway. Every day's newspaper is full of accounts of individuals whose Inner Caveman got fed up and seized control for a while.)
We just need to do the same thing with religious archetypes. My parents didn't teach me to be an atheist, in fact I never heard of religion until I was seven. But they also didn't teach me religion. I didn't grow up with my archetypal beliefs organized into a Bible. They just rattled around in my head until I discovered other types of literature, and then they became organized in a different way. (I fondly recall reading "The Wizard of Oz" and loving all the supernatural creatures and events, without having any pressing need to think they were real.)
If young people were introduced to the Bible only after being introduced to science and history, it is unlikely they would grow into a need to sacrifice evidence on the altar of myth and superstition.
If they were simply introduced to the Bible
as a renowned and valuable work of fiction rather than as literal truth, that's all it would take.
Everyone should study Christianity because it is a perennial worldwide social phenomenon.
Two thousand years is hardly "perennial." A lot of great things happened on this planet before the alleged birth of Jesus. Our children should be studying them too!
But why close the mind to glaring truths (the world is not flat) just to embrace an ancient idea . . . .
Unfortunately for us Americans, the Religious Redneck Retard Revival of the late 1970s overturned the liberal religious movement that had been gaining ground since the Roaring Twenties, a strong force in the Counterculture era when we atheist hippies were glad to have the help of the "Religious Left" (a term that was never coined) in fighting for peace and civil rights. There was no evolution denialism or young earth faction back then. The more thoughtful, educated religious people realized that much of what was in the Bible was metaphorical, and they managed not to be dismayed by that. Even today, the Pope and the leaders of virtually every other respectable Christian denomination accept evolution as simply one of the many tools God used to create this world, and accept the six-day creation as a symbol. They won't fly into a rage when and if we finally crack the secret of abiogenesis, because it won't shake their faith that it's all just part of God's Enormous Plan. Maybe all God did was create the laws of nature such as electromagnetism and entropy by waving his magic wand, and the Big Bang happened, and everything since then has been merely the turning of precision gears in his Cosmic Watch. Surely you're familiar with the Cosmic Watchmaker model of the universe, which we can never disprove, but only point out that it simply expands the scope of what should be called "the universe" and begs the question of where all of that
other stuff, including the god himself, came from.
. . . . Especially when the seed religions are considered anathema to Christianity?
The typical statement of one of Abrahamism's dogmas, "Our God is a jealous God," says to me that monotheism does not quite synchronize with the archetypes in our heads, that in fact the old 23-god pantheon was a closer image of our psyche. Therefore, the One God movement has to be zealous about preventing its children from learning about the traditional model of the human spirit.
The Romans, Norsemen, Greeks, Egyptians, Babylonians, etc., fought with each other, but
almost never over religion. In fact their scholars usually discovered quickly that they had the same gods with different names. It appears to be only the Abrahamic monotheists, who claim that they all believe in the same God and even revere the same Torah, that kill each other over their (only slight) disagreement over the nature of that God.
For me, it is enough to say "I believe" and walk away from inquiry, provided there are no unresolved issues obstructing my exit. The story of Jesus is a story, nothing more, highly decorated by eons of gilding the lily. To derive any other meaning than this is, to me, simply a matter of blind faith.
Perhaps today I have given you the more useful concept of
irrational faith, which has an opposite against which it can be contrasted.