Remembering Maurice Sendak

It's finals week here at UIUC, and we're pretty much all sleep-deprived and anxiety-ridden. Still, I couldn't let the death of a notable atheist go unacknowledged. Maurice Sendak, beloved author of the childrens' book Where the Wild Things Are, died today at the age of 83 and, like many, I'm completely heartbroken about it. I've always admired Sendak as an author and illustator, but I must admit that before today there was so much I didn't know about him. My admiration has grown ten-fold learning about his struggles with depression, the adversity he faced coming out as homosexual late in life, etc, and when I read this quote of Mr. Sendak's from 2003 interview on NPR's Fresh Air, I just had to share it.

"I am not a religious person, nor do I have any regrets. The war took care of that for me. You know, I was brought up strictly kosher, but I — it made no sense to me. It made no sense to me what was happening. So nothing of it means anything to me. Nothing. Except these few little trivial things that are related to being Jewish. ... You know who my gods are, who I believe in fervently? Herman Melville, Emily Dickinson — she's probably the top — Mozart, Shakespeare, Keats. These are wonderful gods who have gotten me through the narrow straits of life."

Wise words, to which I'm sure many of us can relate. Rest in peace, Maurice. You will live on through your stories for years to come.

Getting Smart: Why Atheism is in no way just another religion.

In the year or two that I have found myself an active member of the atheist community, the critique I have heard issued most frequently (and usually with a tone condescending enough to make that Willy Wonka meme cringe) is that "Oh, atheism is just like any other religion, you're just replacing one belief system with another." I think it's fair to say the community as a whole is pretty sick and tired of this complaint, and they are right to think so. Because it's bullshit.

Religion is defined by the Oxford Dictionary as: "The belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods". For the atheists in the audience, that's generally all the  distinction we need between us and a religion, but many theists disagree. To show how atheism is not a religion in a constructive manner, we have to look at the practice of religion from as scientific a standpoint as possible, viewing it from an anthropological perspective. By contrasting this with atheism, we can get a sense of the differences between the two schools of thought.

In order to  get a sense of what makes a religion religious, we have to define the various facets that make it so. For this I am referring to Ninian Smart's "The Religious Experience" Smart was a writer and English educator known as a pioneer for secular religious studies. He is known best for establishing the "Six Dimensions of Religious Experience" as he called them, which act as a framework for comparing religious beliefs in as clear-cut a manner as possible. The six dimensions of religion are: ritual, mythological, doctrinal, ethical, social, and experiential.

Educator, Theologist, and Bowtie Enthusiast

Ritual is defined by Smart as "some form of outward behavior (such as closing one's eyes in prayer)­ coordinated with an inner intention to make contact with, or to participate in, the invisible world." Like Christian baptism, Jewish circumcision, or the Hindi yogas; ritual is a physical way of passing a message onto, or connecting with, the spiritual realm. This implies that in order for something to be ritualistic in the religious sense, it needs to have a supernatural element. If you are in any way clear on what atheism means, you see the divide present. With no supernatural element to connect to, whatever actions atheists participate in are not in the same category as religious ritual, and thus atheism cannot be religious in nature.

Mythology is defined by Smart as the stories pertaining to the history of what is believed by the followers of the religion. He notes here that it is not important whether the myth matches up to historical fact, just that myth refers to what is believed. Examples of religious myths include the Abrahamic Genesis or the Norse creation of earth through the death of Ymir. If you genuinely think that atheism has a mythology, and certainly one comparable in any sense to attributing the creation of earth to the death of an Ice Giant, you have to  be naïve at best and moronic at worst.

"But what about the Big Bang?" my fictional friend John Q. Strawman objects, "surely that functions as a history of what atheists believe, and thus serves as a mythology." Well John, the difference is that the Big Bang is governed by scientific thought, not merely as a story. If someone came along and fully disproved the big bang as a scientific fact, we would stop believing it in a snap. If atheism were just another religion (and thus the Big Bang our mythology) we would continue believing the Big Bang to be truth no matter how incorrect it was; as any atheist can tell you, this is not the case. In comparison, if I were to disprove the hypothesis of new earth creationism that some Christians believe (don't worry, someone took care of that for me) then people would see they would see the evidence and disregard it entirely, maintaining their belief no matter what. That's where the difference between atheism and religion in terms of mythology lies, in how new historical evidence is interpreted and taken in.

Doctrines in religion are their official teachings, or as Smart puts it "an attempt to give system, clarity, and intellectual power to what is revealed through the mythological and symbolic language of religious faith and ritual." Vital points of religion such as Catholic transubstantiation (that bread and wine taken at communion becomes the literal body and blood of Christ) falls under this category, as does the majority of the teachings of Buddha and Confucius. Atheism has no official teachings. As a movement we have no official set of points we must follow or learn. While as a movement we espouse scientific learning and critical thinking, we do not teach it as an essential part of being an atheist. This distinction provides just another reason atheism is not just another religion.

The ethical dimension of religion serves as a code of conduct held by the individual and to a degree held by the religion as a whole. The Abrahamic 10 commandments serve as a classical example of this. While atheists are held to the laws of the country and state, and have a personal moral code; the atheist community does not have a definitive set of rules deemed ethical. Atheism is based on individual thought and ethics based on personal reasoning; only religion enforces a strict institutionalized morality. This is the difference that sets religion and atheism apart.

The social aspect of religion is what drives it to be such a powerful force in the world. With a community held together by a common belief, religion thrives on its ability to institutionalize itself into a religious person's life. Y'know what, I'll be generous and acknowledge the critics on this point. We, as a movement, are actively forming groups and organizing ourselves as a social entity. From the ever expanding number of SSA affiliates to the incredible crowd drawn by the reason rally, we are trying to get people to come out from their private beliefs and become a part of the secular community. But then again, every group tries to get their members to form a social solidarity with the organization, from religions to atheism to fraternities to a god-damned underwater hockey club, they all try their hardest to get you to structure your social life around their organization and identify with that group. A social dimension is not unique to religion, and thus atheism cannot be judged as "just another religion" based purely on its social basis.

Underwater Hockey, just another religion? (sorry Greg)

This all brings us to the final dimension of religion, the Experiential. Smart puts it well: "Although  men may hope to have contact with, and participate in, the invisible world through ritual, personal religion normally involves the hope of, or realization of, experience of that world." It is feeling the presence of god, it is the Buddhist contemplating nirvana in his meditations, it is that Christian we roll our eyes at when he/she says "I have a personal relationship with Jesus." It is the part of human experience that takes us from the everyday, mundane life and gives us a sense of the profound nature of the invisible, spiritual realm. The issue is that, in saying that atheism is just another religion, you are implying that we are trying to reach out and grasp a connection to a spiritual realm that we simply do not believe in.

All  six of the dimensions I mentioned and talk about here hinge on the concept that religion is trying to grasp for an understanding of, a connection to, the spiritual realm that transcends what we can observe with our minds. But when you take into account that atheism, by its very definition, implies a non-existence of this invisible world, all these dimensions suddenly break down in their ability to be religious in nature. Taking all this into account, atheism cannot be described as "just another religion" because atheism, by its very definition, just does not possess the elements needed to be religious in nature.

p.s. In the sake of fairness, here is an essay using Smart's Dimensions of Religion (they seem to have replaced mythological for narrative, same difference.) arguing the exact opposite of my claim. I shall let you decide which makes more sense.

Pics from National Ask An Atheist Day 2012

What a gorgeous day to be out on the Quad! It's no wonder we had such a superb turnout for National Ask An Atheist Day 2012. I only wish we could have gotten pictures of everyone who stopped by -- we might have broken a record today!

Also, anyone notice we always seem to gain a dog during Ask An Atheist events? No baby this time, though. What a shame... I was hungry.

Attack of "Attack of the Theocrats!"

Over the last week, I've been lucky enough to read through Sean Faircloth's recent book, Attack of the Theocrats! How the Religious Right Harms Us All- —and What We Can Do About It. Faircloth tackles the tightening grip of fundamentalist religion in America with sharp wit and indisputable facts from our nation's history. However, what makes this book uniquely engaging is the personal touch with which the author discusses his subject matter.

RPG + GGG = Sean Faircloth

If you've never heard of Sean Faircloth, this book will offer you a real treat. He was the Executive Director of the Secular Coalition for America, the only lobbyist organization in the country explicitly devoted to protecting the rights of the nonreligious and separation of church and state. After hearing him speak, Richard Dawkins made him the opening speaker for his recent tour. As a member of Maine's state house, he quoted Susan Jacoby's Freethinkers when called upon to give a session's opening prayer. Not to mention his dogged advocacy of the Maine Discovery Museum for children! Needless to say, Sean Faircloth's secular bona fides are well in order.

Throughout Attack of the Theocrats, Faircloth utilizes examples from history and his own life as well as those across the country who have been impacted by the rise of fundamentalism to drive home point after point: This is a secular nation. That it is so was the intent of the Founders. Only in recent generations has religion achieved its bizarre privileged stranglehold over our federal government. That it has done so is destructive and detrimental to all involved. Sure, these are all points that many who would pick up the book are already familiar with, but the anecdotes included are both fascinating and sure to provide that extra persuasive oomf to your argument next time you find yourself at dinner with your crazy Baptist uncle. Sure, anyone can point to Jefferson's attacks on religion in government, but Barry freakin' Goldwater? The father of modern American conservatism? Faircloth's outrage is most palpable when reviewing the litany of abuses heaped upon children whose caretakers were safe from liability by religious exemption. It leads one to the question, exactly how many kids is it acceptable to have die as the result of inept Church-run childcare before we rethink our laws? The evidence found in this book will provide stopping power against all but the most fanatical of our nation's theocrats.

However, Faircloth knows that facts alone will not cannot win the battle for a secular America and he comes prepared. In the latter part of the book, he names names; targeting the "Fundamentalist Fifty" who legislate us towards theocracy at the federal level. Upon showing the problem at its worst, Faircloth delves into his strategy for bringing about lasting change for the better. Called "Our Secular Decade", the blueprint identifies allies, lays out tangible objectives, and calls upon the reader to take action. His plan of action was laid out in a recent Washington Post op-ed.

Attack of the Theocrats! is a fact-filled primer to the sectarian plagues of the United States, that ends with a results-driven vision for making things right again. Faircloth's work is much needed, as most of the atheist canon focuses on the intellectual arguments against belief rather than positive arguments for the power of explicitly nonreligious institutions. That is not the case here, as it becomes harder to refute the desperate need for secular governance with the turn of each page. That said, this book could not have come at a better time. The Reason Rally's phenomenal attendance has shown the willingness of secular Americans to show up when called upon. Now that Faircloth has written his manifesto, it is my hope that he will wield his new position as Director of Strategy & Policy at the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason & Science as a tool for making this marvelous blueprint a reality.

An End-of-the-Semester Freethought Library Update!

It's hard to believe it's been almost two months since our last Freethought Library update. This semester has really flown by, and we're already coming up on the one year anniversary of the project!

We've had a few exciting developments since February, beginning with a little promotion from the Friendly Atheist. The Hemant Bump -- as we like to call it -- brought in several monetary donations which made possible the purchase of some key supplies. We now have protective mylar covers on our hardcover books! These ensure that dust-jackets will not be lost or damaged and generally minimize wear and tear over time.

More importantly, we've received some exciting print donations! Authors Thomas Lawson and Jen Hancock generously sent us copies of their books, as did Sean Faircloth and Pitchstone Publishing. Lawson's Letters From An Atheist Nation: Godless Voices of America in 1903 provides a fascinating historical perspective, and Hancock's humanist guides offer a delightfully simple approach to personal ethics. Faircloth's Attack of the Theocrats: How the Religious Right Harms Us All and What We Can Do About It! has been a particularly exciting addition because of it's relevance to the current political climate. The poli sci buffs among us are pretty much lined up to read it. That said, Sam got his hands on it first and will be posting a review tomorrow!

Finally, the Reason Rally last month proved to be a thrilling opportunity for networking and soliciting potential future donations. We hope this means there's much more to come...

As always, donations of used or new books and would be greatly appreciated. Simply email us at illinissa@illinois.edu for more information or click the "donate" button in the upper right hand corner of the page to offer monetary support for the project. Every little bit helps!

Here's the updated timeline graphic, complete with pictures of the mylar covers and our new books.

The Death of Decency: A liberal church preys upon the grieving and the dead

Today I went to a funeral for a childhood friend who recently committed suicide. It was my first time revisiting the church in which I was practically raised and, while I knew it would be strange, I think I hoped my grief would offer me a different perspective. Now nonreligious, I'm quick to condemn such institutions as centers of brainwashing, fear-mongering and the like; but the truth is that I had nothing but happy memories of this place. It was founded on the basis of that more modern, friendly brand of Christianity – less god-fearing, more god-loving. It’s difficult to imagine that something as straightforward as a funeral service could have more sinister undertones in that context.

The first thing I noticed was the change in the church itself. It looked small, dimly lit... Not at all the place I remembered. I guess things just seemed brighter when a younger me was sure she felt God's presence there.

The service was, from the very beginning, more explicitly religious than most, but I didn't find that part surprising given the fact that the family has always been devout. Still, it prompted a lot of reflection on my part.

I politely bowed my head for the prayers, and found my mind wandering to my loss of faith years ago. The death of a loved one had left me distraught and questioning how such a thing could be a part of God's "plan". I think Julia Sweeney said it best in her poignant story Letting Go of God: "I realized there was this little teeny-weenie voice whispering in my head. I'm not sure how long it had been there, but it suddenly got just one decibel louder. It whispered, 'There is no God.'" Like Julia, I didn't wake up one day and choose to stop believing. I wanted desperately for there to be some cosmic purpose for the tragedy I'd encountered, and it pained me to even consider the alternative. But doubt crept in, and things were hard for a very long time until one day they weren't anymore.

That said, I don't think of myself now as a "militant atheist", though I wouldn't mind being labeled as such. I'd prefer for religion to stay the hell out of matters of public policy, but I'm a live-and-let-live sort of girl and if others somehow see something in faith, I'm not going to try to take that from them.

These and other thoughts crossed my mind as the service continued. "I guess it's not hurting anyone right now," I reflected silently during a hymn, "But what is religion actually contributing to this memorial?" Not the community, certainly – there's no doubt in my mind that just as many people would have loved and cherished the deceased in the absence of some faith to bind them. It had to be some sort of metaphysical reassurance, then, right? Peace in troubled times? A way to deal with the pain and inevitability of death? Comfort?

But the service wasn't comforting. Far from it, in fact. The pastor didn't deliver the usual "at least he's in a better place" spiel or any sort of unifying message. Instead, he offered the heavy-handed question "What does scripture have to say about the taking of one's own life?" with a horribly unpalatable answer: "God creates life, and therefore life belongs to God. In taking that life from him, we are betraying God's trust and revealing our own lack of faith."

Before this moment, the circumstances that led to my atheism had never really made me angry. But the hypocrisy here was just too much to bear in my grief. That a faith could so thoroughly devalue human life while offering reprimand (at a horrifically inappropriate time, no less) for someone who wholeheartedly buys into that message and just wants to get to heaven a little faster is disconcerting, appalling, outrageous – I can’t even find a word suitable to convey my sorrow and disgust. It's not enough to molest the minds of the living, we have to disrespect the dead as well?

I didn't think, going in, that I wanted anything from that pastor today. I can deal with death on my own, painful though it may be. But in retrospect, I did want something on behalf of the people around me: the kids I grew up with, their aging parents, and the family of the deceased. For the faithful, I wanted religion to step in and do that thing that nice moderates always tell us it's good for – give grieving people a way to deal with their loss.

But the pastor’s message was completely antithetic to that goal, and the people of the congregation shifted uncomfortably in their seats. I wanted to shout, "I know you're cherry-picking the Bible anyway! If you're going to pick and choose your principles, couldn't they at least be less punitive, more positive? What good is this institution we call faith if it can't offer some constructive or compelling insight on the trials and tribulations of our day-to-day lives?”

Never mind the fact that the pastor namedropped god/Jesus far more than he mentioned the deceased.

Never mind the fact that I'm sure the tone of the service was exactly what my friend wouldn’t have wanted. 

Never mind how completely untoward it was in the first place to use the suicide of a good man as some sort of lesson for the rest of us.

The pastor was poised to offer some wisdom on the nature of suffering, and instead he was dismissive of it: "God gives us the tools to weather the storm," he insisted, "We just need to choose to use them." I know what that struggling, younger version of myself would have said to him in that moment: "Couldn't he just have, you know, not sent the storm?"

Had I somehow still been religious as of this morning, I think I would have lost my faith by the day's end. As it is, I find my atheism renewed a hundred times over. But I offer this story, I guess, as a cautionary tale. I went to that church with a somewhat open mind, and I left it feeling violated. If what I experienced today is the best that faith has to offer, I don’t want myself or anyone I love to be a part of it.

Heads up! ISSA special event this week! (new meeting time & place)

The weekly email of the Illini Secular Student Alliance! Email not displaying correctly? View it in your browser Illini Secular Student Alliance Greetings, Skeptical Spectators! We know how busy things get this time of year, but believe us when we say you won't want to miss this week's meeting. Read on for details... Talkmaggedon We have a special event lined up for this Thursday called Talkmaggedon. It will be a roundtable debate featuring student representatives of various religious affiliations. They will be taking on the philosophical question called the "Problem of Evil" - in other words, why a benevolent god would allow evil and suffering. Talkmaggedon will take place Thursday, April 12th at 7:00pm in Room 2 of the Education Building -- click here for a map and here for the Facebook page.  Officer Interviews If you are interested in any executive or non-executive officer positions for the 2012-2013 school year, contact IlliniSSA@illinois.edu or get in touch with Franklin to schedule an interview. We recommend you bring a writing sample and a short list of relevant experience you may have, though a formal resume is not required. National Ask an Atheist Day (Thursday, April 19th) In solidarity with groups around the country, we invite you to come out to the quad and help the severely confused get an idea of what it really means to be an atheist. Use our Doodle to sign up for a time slot! Ladies' Night! (Saturday, April 21st) Candy, crazy movies, and late-night hyperactivity will all play a center role at this semester's Ladies' Night. Location to be announced next week. Like us on Facebook! Follow us on Twitter! Spread the heresy! Reserve a book now!  Got something secular(ish) on your mind? BLOG ABOUT IT! Posts from members are always welcome -- simply email lliniSSA@illinois.edu if you're interested. T-Shirts now just $10. Get your ISSAwear here.  follow us on Twitter | like us on Facebook | read our blog | contact us Not diggin' it? Click here to unsubscribe.

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