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Creationism vs Racism: My Response to PZ Myers

It’s a rare day when I mostly agree with PZ Myers, but since his recent post about Ken Ham’s Creation Museum and some Creationist textbooks actually being used in Texaswas mostly spot on, I felt the need to celebrate by posting a response of my own. I recommend you check out his article first, as I’m going to swing high and low around some of his points without much explanation. His description of excerpts from actual text books being used in Texas schools (he doesn’t specify whether they’re from public or private schools) is terrifying to say the least. Not only do they spout anti-scientific anecdotes influenced entirely from biblical interpretations, in some cases they even explicitly state, according to Myers’ article, that “the Bible is the written word of God” and that their hope is for students to come to believe that “’Jesus is the Christ, the son of God.’ And may you have ‘life in His name.’” This is in a secondary school, not seminary, or Sunday School!

As much as I think Creationist teachings are completely off the charts wrong, I actually wouldn’t object to some of them being taught in a History of Religion or Philosophy class (in fact, I think they should be). But these “lessons” are being taught as science, not just in addition to actual science, but often as a replacement for it. This is a problem. It’s been a while now, but I can honestly say looking back, my secondary school science education (Minnesota) was seriously lacking. I can only assume that many schools take the least controversial approach to avoid controversy. I was not taught creationism in the class room, but I wasn’t really taught about the scientific method with much rigor either. Not in any meaningful, long lasting way. And Creationism was certainly never refuted. I can even remember trying to stir the pot with my physics teacher (back in my religious years), but he nervously sidestepped the issue fairly well. I wasn’t a hardcore Creationist by any means, but I had a few beliefs that were created from that mold. Poor guy.

I’m getting a bit off track, but my point is that as a former believer-turned-atheist, I’m no shill for this kind of crazy instruction. I see how even moderate tolerance of Creationism can find its way into a secular school merely because administrators and teachers don’t want to offend some students and parents. This is a danger to our future, it needs to end, and real science needs to be a part of every grade level. And as for Ken Ham of the Creation Museum, he can keep his dinosaurs walking two by two up towards his model of Noah’s Ark if he wants to, but keep them out of “science” or “history” textbooks, and stop inflicting this misinformation on children!

Where I would quibble with Myers (and luckily nobody reads this blog because incurring the wrath of Myers is both an achievement and terrifying), is his characterization of people who believe some Creationist teachings as racist. Myers starts his article by discussing how ignorant Ham is that one of his Creationist viewpoints — that Africans are descended from Noah’s son Ham (irony much?), and were cursed (known as Hamite theory of race origins) – has been used to further the agenda of racist ideologies, but then later Myers flat out calls Ham a racist. These are two very different things. Calling an idea racist, or highlighting its ability to lead people to racism is one thing; calling specific people racist is another.

The charge of racism is a serious one, especially in today’s world, and it should not be tossed around lightly. I cannot say for certain whether Ken Ham or his followers, or proponents of Creationism are in fact racist. I cannot see into their hearts, nor have I seen specific evidence of their racism such as direct statements or actions. I simply don’t spend my entire life energy capturing their every word and action. If anyone can produce evidence that Ham is a racist, I would be happy to amend that assertion. But a bad idea or belief does not make the person believing it bad. At least not automatically. I wouldn’t argue against the likelihood that whoever fabricated, or popularized the Hamite philosophy was probably a racist. It smacks of revisionist history in order to justify slavery. But I seriously doubt that Ken Ham sees it that way, nor do most of his sheep. I could be wrong.

I think believing false notions like the Hamite “theory” (I hate to call it that as the word theory is so often misused by Creationists) could potentially lead to racism. That is part of the danger in these types of teachings. In the wrong hands, imprudent ideas can be twisted even further. But do I think that all Creationists are racists? Not even close. As someone who once believed in magical explanations for the way the world works, and someone who was taught a doctrine of why those beliefs are correct (with the fear of spending eternity in hell as the price to pay if I was getting it wrong), I can only say, accusations of racism against an individual for that doctrine are misguided, and potentially life ruining. I think in order to level the charge of racism, there must be clear intent on the part of the so-called racist to be so. That is, I think it requires intent to demean, and generally do harm to the person or group being attacked. Haven’t we all said foolish things that could be deemed offensive, or lead to a misunderstanding of our true character? I know I have, and those I know have, usually out of pure ignorance, not malice. For example, there are older people in my life who still use the term “Oriental” to describe people of Asian descent. Do I believe for a moment that they are intending to be racist or cause harm? No, they are simply following along with terms used in their day, and don’t know any better. I’ve attempted to correct them, but they truly do not understand the issue, because they are not attempting to be hateful. I’m sure when I’m older, I’ll do the same thing. Keeping up with norms and changing language is tough. I think a reasonable person knows the difference between ignorance and hate.

To level a blanket charge of racism onto an individual for beliefs that have complex origins is simplistic, and unfair. Perhaps the ideas themselves are racist, or objectionable, but to call the person who believes them a racist is a dangerous path to take. I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt. Attack the idea, not the person. Sometimes that’s a difficult line to find, but it’s important to try. Through respectful discourse, not name-calling, we have a chance to impact the minds of those who believe in silly, archaic ideas that need to die, like Creationist teachings of human origins. Appealing to their rational brains, rather than fanning the flames of passion-infused defensiveness, is the way to open people up to science. Calling each other undeserved names potentially closes the door forever. I know this because I was once a believer, whose mind was changed over time by evidence. Being insulted just made me want to hunker down more to defend my position, and words like racist or bigot never expressed what was in my heart. Perhaps Ken Ham is beyond the reach of rational analysis, but there is some kid out there right now who believes what Ham believes, and has heard that his ideas are – and therefore he is — racist even though he doesn’t feel any malice towards anyone of another skin color. That kid has a choice to risk the fires of hell and rebuke Ham’s ideas, or to join with those who respect him. As a non-believer, I want to make that kids choice easy… do both. There are those of us out there waiting to help you navigate the world through reason, and not condemn you merely for dogma you were indoctrinated into. Hopefully, you’ll find our voices as well.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

 

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My Blasphemous Deconversion Statement

[The below statement was originally posted on my Facebook page today.  Its primary audience is anyone who knows me in “real life” but I wanted to share it with you as well].

I renounce Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior, and I deny the Holy Spirit.

There.  I said it.  It’s done.  Finished.

Some may think this is too deep, or TMI for a Facebook post.  I somewhat agree with you, but despite that, I have specific reasons for doing so.  This will also be posted on my blog and elsewhere.  You are free to share with anyone who may know me.

This is frankly not the first time I’ve said those words out loud, but it is the first time I’ve said or written them publicly.  Why now?  Because I’m tired of hiding, stepping on eggshells, dancing around the truth, and generally not being myself.  It’s making me miserable, and I want it to end.  For various reasons which I’ll not go into right now, I feel the need to write this statement of de-conversion (and unforgiveable blasphemy according to Mark 3:29) from Christianity and all religion, and tell the world.  Here.  Now.

If anyone who still believes in and follows Jesus Christ (or other gods) wishes to un-friend me or otherwise cut me out of their lives, please feel free to do so now.  It would be nice if you give me the courtesy of telling me you are doing this first, so that I do not expend any more emotional energy trying to be a friend to someone who will not or cannot reciprocate.  Just know that I will be here waiting to accept you back if you choose to do the same for me.

I am open and more than willing to answer any question(s) anyone (theist and non-theist alike) has for me as long as they are stated with a true hope and desire to understand rather than to attack, condemn, or “save.”  I ask that any attempts to “bring me back into the fold” die before they are tried.  This is not something I came to overnight.  My path of unbelief has been a long road that I’m still traveling.   It is a road I am happy to be on.

I understand your sadness.  I once believed deeply in Christ.  This belief was not fake.  I understand your concern for my immortal soul.  Please understand, I do not share this sadness, or concern for my soul.  I do not believe I (or you) have a soul.  I am not afraid of spending eternity in hell, because I do not believe it exists.  I did not “lose faith.”  I am not angry with “god.”  I have merely applied my (not unique) human gifts of reason, logic, and analytical thought to evidence as I have learned it.  This is a constant cycle of growth and understanding.  A cycle I’ll be on until my last breath.  I do not wish to cause you any pain.  I merely want to be who I am, and out from the shadows.

You do not have to agree with me or even like everything about me to be my friend (or family member), as I have, and hope to continue to have many friends who are believers.  But you must respect, accept me for who I am, and not go out of your way to hurt me.  If you cannot do this, I wish you well in your life, and hope you find what you seek.  If you want to remain my friend, I would welcome your comments/messages in that regard as well (though not required whatsoever: This is not a fishing expedition of validation).

To anyone out there who (un)believes as I do – that no god(s) exist — or is on a journey in that direction, and wants to either comment here or send me a message, I would love and appreciate that more than I can express.  Know that you have a friend here who understands you.  Trust that I will keep your secrets, and/or support you in your public exposure, and quest to learn the universe’s truth (small “t” intended), whichever is your wish.

Thank you all for reading.  I wish you all the happiness in the world.  This life, this only life, is too short to be anything else.

Peace,

PersephoneK

See also an earlier blog post about my deconversion.

 

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Merry Christmas from the Godless Goddess (and What Christmas Means to Me)

[This post was originally published on my old blog site, underworldgoddess.com.  I hope you find it well here.  The published date here reflects the original publication date].

I had hoped to get a few more posts under my belt before diving into this particular subject, but the calendar stops for no one, so I must forge ahead.  I am an atheist.  In some later post, maybe I’ll discuss the irony of this fact considering I have named myself after a Greek goddess.  This blog is not meant to be entirely atheism focused, but it will likely be a significantly discussed topic because it is an important part of who I am.  And in a later post still, I will probably go in depth into why I’m an atheist, and what atheism means to me.  Most people reading this blog who know me personally with a handful of exceptions will likely find this to be shocking news.  I am not widely known to be “out.”  That is also a topic for another time, and the ramifications for announcing that news here will be dealt with later.  Today, I want to focus on what Christmas means to me as an atheist.  To do so I’ll have to touch a smidge on my back story.

I was raised a Protestant Christian, and for a time in my teens, I was deeply committed to pursuing an understanding of God’s truth and following my interpretation of his wishes for how I lived my life.  I was not a fundamentalist.  I didn’t believe in the inerrant Word of the Bible, but I did believe in its essential truth (and Truth), and I think it’s fair to say, I was one of the most religious kids in my class.   And worse, I was a goodie-goodie.  In other words, I was BORING, and way too serious.

In those years, as a Christian raised in Lutheran tradition, but one who hadn’t pledged allegiance to any specific denomination’s dogma, for me Christmas was all about honoring the birth of Jesus Christ.  That might seem like an obvious statement.  Of course, Christmas is about the birth of Jesus Christ.  Everyone knows that.  But at the time, this was the most fundamental principal of Christmas to me.  I didn’t completely divorce myself of secular traditions. I had no beef with most of them provided they didn’t interfere with or pervert the essential Holiness of the holiday.  But in my most religious years, I did start to find the commercialism and consumerism of the season particularly crass.

What offended me more than that, however, was when “lukewarm” Christians, or “Christmas and Easter Christians” decided now was the time to go to church despite not bothering to do so the remaining 50 odd Sundays of the year.  I felt they tarnished the spirit of the season far more than anything else.  They were the group who believed in Jesus, but helped perpetuate the notion that the season is about “Peace on Earth” and “goodwill towards men” above honoring our Lord and Savior, which should always take precedence.    It’s not that I hated the message — I just found it less important than spreading the news that Jesus was born of a virgin named Mary in a manger in Bethlehem surrounded by sheep and goats and visited by three wise men bearing gifts, guided to the birth site by a bright star.

Looking back on my former self, I am saddened for her.

Now, as an atheist who does not believe in the supernatural birth of Jesus, in the Judeo-Christian god, or any gods, I have a love for this holiday season that doesn’t compare to what I used to feel for it.  I’m able to more fully appreciate the secular messages of the holiday, like peace and goodwill.  I live in a northern state in the US, where Christmas usually means a beautiful snowflakes falling to earth on a black night, coating trees in blanket of pure white, and muting sounds in a blissful softness.  I love all of the holiday lights magically dancing and twinkling in the trees and on homes.  I allow myself time to truly appreciate the smells of hot cocoa and apple cider and a roaring fire.  Even the Christmas music (religious and secular) on every overhead speaker, the boughs of holly, the endless loops of “Elf,” “A Christmas Carol,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Rudolph,” and “A Christmas Story” playing on multiple channels, and the kitschy holiday TV specials and homage’s warm my heart.

Some vocal atheists out there are intent on disturbing the holiday to prove various points about separation of church and state, or fairness or whatever the case may be.  I’m sad for them as well.  You can completely remove the religiosity of the holiday (in fact I recommend you do), and it would still be worth preserving.  Even though it is rooted in a myth, it doesn’t change what it is today.  It’s a beautiful time of year when people’s greatest worry is how they can find the perfect gift for people they love.  Is that crass consumerism?

Po-tay-to/po-tah-to.

I know when I shop for gifts, I’m far more concerned with finding something I know my friends and family will love, than I am about how much money Best Buy is making at my expense.  And if that means I have to suffer through stores competing for my attention with crazy advertisements and ridiculous sales, then that is fine to me.  It is that consumerism and commercialism that allows me to live in one of the most prosperous nations the earth has ever known.  It is that prosperity that brings the entire world a little closer to peace and goodwill.  Sure, there may be a tacky fight in the line to get the best deal on Black Friday as a consequence.  But when it comes down to it, I love wishing you all a Merry Christmas.  This year, like all years, I’ll be fortunate enough to spend the day with my family.  We’ll play a game on Christmas Eve that we’re all probably a little tired of, but that we all want to play nevertheless.  We’ll drink some punch, crack some nuts, turn on the Yule Log, eat some wonderful food, go to bed, open presents and bask in each other’s presence and insanity.  It’s going to be the best Christmas ever.   I am alive and well.  My family, even my sister and my nephews will be in town.  Life is good.  I am one lucky human.  There is no better time than Christmas to reflect upon that.  Thank you Jesus!  (Heh!)

I’m so giddy with the holiday spirit that I’m tempted to quote Tiny Tim as well, but instead I’ll simply say have a safe and joyous Christmas, and have a Happy New Year!

~PersephoneK

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Remembering and Reflecting, Ten Years After September 11, 2001

[This post was originally published on 9/11/2011 on a blog I no longer update, and have merged here].

September 11, 2011 changed me forever. Changed my life, too, but mostly it changed me.

I often feel I have no right to speak of it, mourn it, internalize it, to be so profoundly impacted by it. I lost no one close to me that day.  Driving to work that morning in Midwestern America, I was far from the attacks’ epicenters. I was never in danger. I was a 25 year old trying to carve out and understand who she wanted to be and who she thought she was.

9/11 did that for me. It helped to chisel me out as a person.  But in a way, it also would eventually in various ways knock me down.

The horror of that day motivated me to choose a new career in the federal government in an agency where I believed I could help to prevent an attack like that from ever happening again.  I had been drifting after college in a meaningless job, and wanted to find my passion and pursue it.  In hindsight, I wanted to connect myself to the tragedy in some tangible way. America was so thoroughly wounded, and I wanted to feel that day’s heartbeat, and make it part of mine.

I wanted to make a difference.

I believed I’d finally found my calling in life.  It was a powerful feeling. Soon after starting the new job, I saw glimmers of what would drive me to leave it nearly eight years later, but mostly I was content and happy with my new path. I wanted to be part of the solution to prevent what happened from ever happening again. My love for America’s ideals – our liberty, our individualism and paradoxical spirit-of-community, our freedom to pursue happiness, our “anyone can make it” attitude, and our mosaic and messy history – coursed through my veins.  It still does.

And, I believed I mattered.

That was the good thing about 9/11 for me – that belief that I could make a difference. I naively thought one hardworking, passionate person could solve the worlds’ and the country’s problems.

That was the bad thing about 9/11 for me. I eventually lost my sense of hope. I became cynical. Not because of 9/11 itself, but because of the path I chose after it. I became lost in a bureaucracy that frankly ate me alive. It’s a tricky thing though… reflection. I honestly can say I have no regrets about my choice to begin my new path. I do regret how it ended. I will save those details for another time. Today, with this blog, I’m at the start of a journey to find a new path and rediscover the idealism and naivety I once had. Those were good days.

9/11 pushed me into a new way of thinking about the natural world, far from where I had been. I was raised a protestant Christian, though not by an extremely religious family.  My parents are believers, and taught me bible stories, but we were not bible thumpers.  In summer, we missed many Sunday mornings in church.  During middle school, through involvement with the youth group, I had grown very spiritual in my faith on my own.  God had become the most important thing in my life, and everything I did was influenced by those beliefs.  But towards the end of high school, my passion had begun to dwindle.  I didn’t understand why.  I still believed, but I didn’t feel the passion for it.

Although I had started down a path of rational thought and belief based on evidence and reason long before (even during the height of my religiosity), 2001-2002 was a pivotal year for my growth as a human. I had been struggling to regain a Christian faith I’d felt was slipping further away. That loss pained me and I’d been trying to find my footing, pick myself up, and find my way back home.  I wanted to believe again.

9/11 was also the catalyst that led me to the next important moment in my deconversion.  At the start of a solo vacation to Lake Tahoe in April 2002, a blizzard stranded me at my own airport for a twelve hour delay.   While waiting for my flight to leave, reading an article in a thrown away copy of Harper’s magazine about the evidence against the bible’s version of the Exodus, I had a revelation.  It literally felt as though a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, and a huge burden had been discarded.  I didn’t see God or angels.  Instead I had an overwhelming sensation of the release of anxiety: I now felt allowed to pursue other ideas and beliefs no matter where they might take me. This was a big deal. My mind was suddenly opened to all possible outcomes and reasons for existence. I hadn’t suddenly lost my faith, or my belief in God, but no longer was I bound by the limitation of my Judeo-Christian understanding of life after death, and what disbelief in it could mean.

In short, I accepted the possibility that pursuing a world view other than Christianity could result in my eternal damnation.

Not an easy thing to accept; yet at the same time it was. I now quietly celebrate April 1 (yes, April Fools Day!) each year as my “Epiphany Day.” I’ll save the rest of that for another blog in the future.

Many months had passed between 9/11 and that day, but my willingness to hear new ideas had pushed me further from the God I’d known and loved, and more towards agnosticism.  It was scary and exhilarating at the same time.  Yet, as of 8:45 am eastern standard time on the morning of 9/11/2001, I still believed in God. By the time I closed my eyes to go to sleep that night, I did not.  I only realized this later after reflection, but 9/11/2001 was the day I stopped believing in supernatural explanations for all things, and threw my lot in with science, reason and logic.  It was the event that opened my mind to that realization I had on my trip to Tahoe.  Without 9/11, I could still be a struggling Christian, miserable with herself for her hypocrisy and loss of heart.

Thus began my transformation into a skeptic. I try not to define myself by one word, or one set of beliefs. I am the combination of all of my beliefs, dreams, and experiences. Just as you are. And tomorrow that combination, and net result could – and probably will – change.  But if I must chose one, skeptic would be the word that best defines me.

All of that detail sets the stage for this blog. I chose to post my first entry on the ten year anniversary of September 11, 2001 with purpose. It marks an important date for me for many reasons. Without that day, my country, my life and me would be so very different, for better and for worse.  Right now, I’m not sure which it is.  Maybe its both. I do know this: I love to learn, I love to debate.  I aim to seek the truth.  I cannot do this alone.  I’ve heard there are three sides to every story.  Your side, my side, and The Truth.  All three touch each other. My ambition is that through reasoned and challenging discussion, we can help each other find the truth about a great many things.

This blog isn’t about any one thing in particular.  My interests run far and wide and my whims are even faster.  I guarantee that while you may agree with me on one topic, you will vehemently disagree with me on others.  But if you love critical thinking, and are willing to consider other options, I think we’ll be great friends, or at the very least, teach each other something.

September 11 means many things to me.  What I hope for 9/11/2011 is that I can begin a journey with you to use one of our unalienable rights (and I don’t believe that phrase applies merely to Americans) to speak openly and freely while in the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.

The rules for this blog are simple: Say what’s on your mind about an issue I raise, but do so in a civilized and respectful manner.  Criticize the idea, not the person expressing it.  Only then will all people feel free to share their ideas.  And I want to hear what you have to say!  I want you to challenge my beliefs just as I’ll challenge yours.  It’s great to meet you.

Get ready for a wild ride!

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