Lisa Hickey finds something she can believe in. And it has everything to do with “good” and much to do with “men”.
I was raised a Catholic, a “good” Catholic – baptized, communioned, confirmed, confessed. I slowly decided I didn’t like the organized part of organized religion, so I stopped going to Church, stopped participating in the rituals. Started to think of myself as more of a Christian, and then gradually slipped towards agnostic. And then I decided I didn’t like the religious part of organized religion either, and I had a “Spiritual De-Awakening”. I describe the moment when I turned, unequivocally atheist, in my post “On 9/11, Atheism, Buttons and Bowling for Jesus”.
But if an Atheist describes what he or she is NOT, I’m here now to tell you what I am. And why, in the scheme of things, my spirituality depends on what I think about men.
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It was a year or so after I was feeling comfortable with my new, self-proclaimed label of “Atheist”, when a colleague of mine called me over to her computer and whispered conspiratorially “Here, take this test. It’s great – it’s called The Belief-O-Matic quiz.”
“Right” I answered. I’m pretty sure my eyes rolled. “No really,” she said convincingly. “It tells you what religion you would be if you didn’t know what religion you were. Don’t you want to know?”
So I took it. And was told I was not an atheist but actually a “secular humanist”—the belief that it is “the connective goodness of mankind that moves the world forward.” And that I had a “naturalistic worldview and a positive ethical outlook.”
I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. (Just kidding, that was an atheist joke.) But truly—“secular humanist”—if there is anyone that believes that it’s the “connective goodness of mankind that moves the world forward,” that would be me. I felt as if I had been holding my breath for years and could finally let it out. YES. That is what I believed.
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To me—The Good Men Project—that’s part of why it feel so much like home. Like such a part of me. Because I’ve come to see that it’s part of my “system of beliefs”. What are we forming if not connection points that believe in the goodness of mankind? A positive ethical outlook? Yeah, that, too.
I’ve mentioned before that for much of my life, I’ve been quite scared of men. My relationships with men didn’t get off to such a great start, and the systematic portrayal of men by the media didn’t help matters. At all. Men were scary because they were portrayed as villains. It’s hard to trust any individual man if you’re always wondering when the dark side is going to show up.
And so, for a secular humanist to not believe that one-half the population is “good”—it doesn’t work. To not be able to connect with half the people in the world spiritually—that’s a problem. It’s kind of like being half-alive.
But learning to believe in men as good—all men, as good first—that was a spiritual awakening of the very best kind.
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photo: aturkus / flickr
About Lisa Hickey
Lisa, as always, your honest open reflection is refreshing. I remember hearing conservative Christians spit the words “secular humanists” out of their mouths as if they had taken a bite out of a rotten apple. I couldn’t understand the distaste. For those believers, to place trust in human goodness was somehow a denial of God as the author of good. But that doesn’t make any sense at all to me. At any rate, I celebrate your discovery of label that fits. It is clear to all who know you through the GMP that this is more than a good professional fit – it is a profound expression of your spiritual journey. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Good article and I understand. As a fully fledged theist (born-again Christian) I obviously disagree with the ‘secular humanist’ position, but I understand where you are coming from.
I must say that as a Christian I believe in both the inherant goodness and inherant wickedness of all people. People are naturally good because they are made in the image of God. But also naturally good because they are in rebellion against that good nature. Until that is Christ restores them.
Chris, I got a good chuckle from the Freudian slip that made it into your comment: “But also naturally good because they are in rebellion….” Though much of Christian theology focuses on that “wickedness” I am unconvinced that such a dualistic battle is taking place within us. But that’s just me.
Let me start out by saying that one of the biggest influences on my own spiritual life has been the writings and views of Terry Pratchett, a secular humanist. I may not agree fully, but I can learn from your viewpoints, That’s why i call it “The Great Conversation” as opposed to “The Way.” You have to follow a way, but you contribute uniquely to a conversation.
I’ve studied religion and spirituality for years, and wrote my doctoral dissertation on religion and psychology. One of the perspectives I take when looking at the subject is to divide religion and spirituality into 2 phases: (1) establishing your identity/personality, and (2) learning to relate to others in the world. In phase 1, you build an internal structure, focusing on how you view yourself, how you organize and define the world, etc. In phase 2, you learn how to build relationships with other people (and, depending on your beliefs, non-humans).
Now granted, the phase thing is a conceptual model, some people need to take it in a step by step fashion, others can build both simultaneously, and some people go from phase 1, to phase 2, back to phase one after some soul searching, and then move back into phase 2, etc. People who have the most problems are the ones who get so bogged down in phase 1 that they put their identities over how they treat people, and that’s where you get the jerks who like to look down on, mock, and attack others for having different beliefs.
Without going into an overly-revealing analysis, let me just say given the context of your life, everything you’ve written about yourself makes sense. I’m also glad you’re accepting that there are good guys out there. One of the major frustrations in my life has been trying to be a good guy in a world that constantly invalidates us. Men, like all people, have to choose between good and evil, in how they live their lives, and we need to encourage and acknowledge the good a little more.
Thanks Zack! I do think it’s hard when people don’t see the good *first*. And really, that’s one of the whole reasons we started The Good Men Project, because it was so blatantly ridiculous the way men are portrayed.
I’m certainly no saint. But all I can do from this moment forward is recognize the failings of myself as a human and move ahead. And respect the fact that others are, for the most part, trying to do the same.
I tend to flit between stages, as in your model.
Lisa, I really like the connection you make between spirituality and a larger set of beliefs. For some reason, we Americans tend to either exorcise religion/spirituality as if it were an fully-contained entity with no effect upon other portions of our lives OR we act as if it is the primary factor in our lives. The black-and-white approach around spirituality/religion that pervades American civil discourse is almost too extreme to attempt a conversation.
And thank you for the link to Belief-O-Matic. I discovered that I am a 100% secular humanist. trying to answer and questions at all about my spiritual beliefs are has always left me nearly stuttering.
I will be mulling my interconnected beliefs for a few days—seeing what seemingly unrelated strings are pulled when spiritual matters are brought up and questioned. What a great topic!
Bravo/Brava GMP!
I do think recognizing a “system of beliefs” was life-changing for me. Thanks!
Lisa- I really enjoyed this insightful article which ended up re-inspiring me. (Who would have thought you’d end up with anything remotely useful from something called a Belief-O-Matic quiz?!) You practice what the great mystics from all the religious traditions have always known and practiced: the goodness inherent in us as a given.
In the seminary I was ordained through, there is a very high value placed on what’s termed Sacred Activism, or how you live your ministry (or spirituality) not only in a private way, but as an outreach to a world in need.
Your incredible contributions as a leader at GMP, sharing your unflagging vision and enthusiasm for men’s goodness would be considered Sacred Activism at a very high level. It’s activism because you’re not only extolling the goodness but challenging, and even resisting the tired stereotypes that most media outlets favor in their portrayals of men. Unsurprisingly, then, because of the way you champion, GMP has taken off tremendously. Brava, indeed, Lisa!
Thank you Lili. I love the concept of Sacred Activism. Making what one does even more thoughtful, and conscious and *meaningful*. Thank you for that, for all.
Lisa:
I don’t know that my faith and yours are very far apart. I just kind of role with the punches when it comes to going to church and talking about Jesus or Buddha or whatever prophet you admire. They were human too right? So under your theory they are part of our little club here on earth moving towards goodness.
I’m glad that GMP has filled the hole of what you have been scared about men in particular. As you know, I like to try to push the envelope in terms of what it means to be a man…and a good man at that. I like to find the wildest, wackiest story possible out there in the world. Because its the extreme–the inmate in Sing Sing or the soldier in Iraq–that proves the rule.
Find someone who is as different as they possibly can be from you and they will show you how much you are alike. I think that goes for men and women too.
That’s funny — even though I’m not religious, I do like the thought of being in a little “club” with the likes of Jesus and Buddha. And I’m always in respect of those how change the world for the better in some way.
I think it was the Dalai Lama who said if he could give any bit of advice as to how to work towards world peace, it would be to invite 5 people you hate to dinner with you. Similar to your thoughts of the extremes.
I love the way connection points are becoming much less superficial. Like, it used to be if you shared a favorite sports team, or lived in the same town, were of a similar income level — that would be the thing that connected you. But now it seems as if relationships are becoming deeper, more multi-dimensional, more complex. Even with people who we might have formerly thought of as “acquaintances.”
Lisa– I could say “me, too!” to most of what you wrote, but as a fellow atheist, I balk at summing it up as “spirituality”. As I opined in my piece on spirituality being optional, I only see what you’re describing as spirituality in the loosest sense of the word, which is so loose that the whole “spirit” part barely applies anymore. If people talk about the “human spirit” or something like that in a metaphorical, descriptive kind of way, then being an atheist doesn’t disqualify me from understanding or sharing in that universal human experience. (E.g., I believe Ray Charles had soul; I don’t believe Ray Charles literally had a soul.) I don’t like it when people who regard themselves as spiritual believe that atheists (or non-believers, secular humanists, etc.) are somehow missing out on the full depth and breadth of human existence, but to the extent that spirituality entails a supernatural component – belief in some kind of literal “spirit” part – I think being an atheist and being spiritual are mutually exclusive. If spirituality is having soul, we (atheists) got it; if spirituality is having souls, we don’t.
Marcus, if human beings do have souls which exist beyond our physical bodies, it would be the most natural thing in the world, nothing “Super” about it. We had no idea what a nebula was until we actually saw one, yet they were churning away out there the entire time. Our ignorance didn’t make them supernatural. Now, it could very well be that you and I are no more than biochemical reactions that burns out and disappear forever, but looking at the vastness and complexity of the Universe, and at how much more we are learning every day, are you really telling us that your willing to stop there?
I have lived most of my adult life as a Secular Humanist, but I’m burning with the question of what consciousness really is. For example, we are failry certain that every atom in our bodies was created in the Big Bang and has existed at least since the begining of the Universe, perhaps longer. Could it be that our consciousness, or even a “Super-Consciousness” which is interwoven into the fabric of the Universe has exsited as a result of that event? Quatum physics is revealing that such things could be possible. Dying is the only way to know for sure, and so I’m in no hurry to learn the answer. But what a fascinating discussion! I refuse to say that I’ve got it all figured out and that I’m officially “Done.”
Marcus, whoever said anything about spirits/souls being “super natural”? I regard it as that “thing” that makes each individual unique. It may have as much to do with personality as it does anything else. It’s not something you can contain, or measure, or even see, but you can see the effects of it.
If you have sat with someone as they die, then you know that there is a moment when that body ceases to be the person you knew as “dad” or “Julie” or “Joe”. The person becomes a body. There is no scientific explanation for that difference. Science can tell you why that person’s heart isn’t beating anymore, or why that person’s lungs or kidneys failed, but science does not describe the “light” that leaves the eyes. It does not decribe the palpable difference between a person and a corpse.
That, to me, is spirit. And whether I believe I have one, or not, does not change, in my view, the reality that I have one.
That’s one man’s opinion, of course.
I used to resist the word spiritual as well — when someone used the term “spiritual, not religious” (most often on online dating sites) I often thought they were copping out in some way, and just trying to give the “answer most likely not to turn others off.” But lately I see spirituality as more of “connectedness”. The flow of information — OH — I meant to write about Isaac Asimov’s great story “The Last Question.” Marcus — have your read that? It rocks.
To me, it’s that connectedness that makes things more than the sum of their parts. The gestalt. When I was an addict, I would only think about “me”. That was most definitely UN-spiritual.
Thank you for the reading suggestion, Lisa. I haven’t read it but will check it out.
Roger, I have sat with people on their deathbed, including my mother. I agree there’s a point at which the life is over and the body is just a body, not a person. I disagree that science can’t explain the difference, because death is when the heart stops and all brain activity ceases. That’s clinical, scientific death. You and I both know that when such death occurs, it does not wipe out the memories or influence that the deceased had on people still living. In that sense, I completely agree that a person who dies is not simply gone forever. For example, I still think about my mom and know that her influence on me continues to affect the man I am. Her influence is with me, though she herself isn’t. Lisa’s gestalt idea works for me, because it’s describing that “something more” without pinning it on some actual thing that survives death and faces judgment (or other fates) in an afterlife.
Where we differ, I think, is that I don’t believe there is convincing evidence of mind/body duality, such that we have spirits or souls that survive bodily death. In contrast, there is abundant evidence on living people who undergo drastic changes in personality or self after significant brain injury or alterations to brain chemistry. (For an excellent essay about such evidence, I recommend A Ghost in the Machine, by Adam Lee. Phineas Gage, who was by all accounts a completely changed man after surviving a railroad spike passing through his brain, is one famous example. Almost any part of the body can be injured, lost, or replaced without changing who a person “is”, except for the brain. When hearts are transplanted, personalities don’t go with them, but if a brain transplant is ever medically possible, I’ll bet anything that the “person” goes wherever the brain goes. What looks clear to me, then, is that when the brain ceases to function, whatever person was there goes with it.
I don’t think my lack of spiritual belief substantially changes or diminishes the way I grieve compared to someone like you. I still take what comfort I can in memories and miss people I desperately wish were still living, but I feel their lasting influence without believing there is some holding place in the great beyond where incorporeal souls can still watch over me or wait for me to join them. Dead people affect me because their influence doesn’t die with them, not because they’re still there, and as for what being dead “feels” like, I assume it’s no different from what it felt like before they were conceived – there’s nothing there to feel.
Traumatic brain injury can damage one’s ability to perceive and interact with the outside world, but we have absolutely no evidence related to whether or not it changes the person inside in any fundamental way, and it has nothing to do with the question of the soul. A person with the kind of disability your refering to is basically locked in, unable to interpret cognative input correctly and is therefore unable to express himself or herself as he or she did before. Therefore, when the brain-damaged person dies, and they are free of the mechanical damage to the brain, then what? That’s the unanswerable question. What bugs me about atheism is that its followers don’t seem to realize that their inequivocal believe in “nothing” takes every bit as big a leap of faith as believing in an anthropomorphic God peeking down at us from behind the clouds.
And yet, the essay I linked in my previous comment cites many examples of what I’m calling evidence that people can be fundamentally changed by brain injuries, both in terms of how they’re regarded by others, and how they regard themselves. I’m not talking about people in vegetative states, but who continue to have cognitive processes and relate to the world even after brain injury – just in radically different ways than they used to. Such evidence appears to contradict the idea of souls as unchangeable, eternal “essences” of people that are immune to such mundane influences as physical injury.
You appear to be confusing “not God” with “nothing”. There are things I believe, but God isn’t one of them. You and I probably share a disbelief in Santa Claus and invisible purple dragons living in our garages, but I doubt you’d say it takes as much a leap of faith to disbelieve those things as it does to believe in them. Our a-Santa-ism does not mean we believe in nothing, just not in Santa Claus. Disbelief is the null hypothesis.
I don’t think that true at all Brian.
Atheists do not believe in “nothing”, they believe that you don’t need to invent a God to explain how things are as they are. For an atheist, the unknown portions remain in the realm of energy, quantum mechanics and why various universal rules of interactions exist and where they these rules came from –
There is a heavy cognitive bias towards the belief that something cannot have always existed, with the bias showing in the form of “all things must have a start and an end” of some form.
Non-atheists have that very same bias and overcome it with the creation of a God which needs no other creator, and whom can jump start creation. This God creation is not warranted nor does it add anything of value to our understanding. Atheists don’t believe the creation of a God is necessary to accept that some things have always existed – the two viewpoints are identical with the difference being intelligent creation versus non-intelligent creation, by the use of some form of entities(s) that have always existed.
The belief that complexity can arise from non-complexity has plenty of solid evidence abound while the belief that complexity must arise from super complexity – that belief is the one that requires a large leap of faith.
Elissa. It appears that my post was unclear on several points, so allow me a moment to clarify. First, I am well aware that Atheists have belief systems like every other human being. I am non-religious, so in a manner of speaking, I‘m an Atheist too. By nothing, I was referring only to the poster’s belief that there is no soul, e.g., either the biblical or supernatural convention or nothing at all. My response to Marcus’ post was a reaction to the notion that simply because the traditional, mythical image of the human soul is discredited by our modern understanding of the Universe, it therefore cannot exist at all in any way, shape or form. Not “I think,“ or “I see no evidence of ,” or, what would be my preference: “it doesn’t feel relevant to me because I choose to focus on living right now.” No, just choosing a belief, or lack of belief, with as little evidence to back it up as does religion. Both set of beliefs are based on gut feelings, and taken as articles of faith. Both sides claim to have overwhelming evidence of the truth of their convictions, but find little of it very convincing. The premise of Atheism with regard to the soul seems to be: ‘if I cannot see it, taste it, touch it or measure it, it does not exist.’ That, to me, is an enormous leap that I doubt even the most ardent Atheist would make with any other topic except religion or spirituality. It comes across to me as very similar to the suspension of critical thinking we were escaping when we left religion.
We humans were equally absolutely certain of pretty much 99.9% of the Universe at one time or another, until we developed the technology and knowledge to discover some of the phenomena we had known for a fact, absolutely, positively did not exist. Our ignorance didn’t make them supernatural, and they obviously existed long before we observed them. You mention quantum physics, I give you the atom. And please remember that when we finally learned to smash the atom and all those exotic particles, that we had known for a fact did not exist, presented themselves, many of our hard, fast laws of physics were suddenly turned on their heads.
God knows (figuratively speaking of course) what we will know of a fact in the future. I don’t, and neither do you. Certainty about such spiritual matters was a luxury I had to give up when I began my practice in hospice, since “hey folks, the lights are off and nobody’s home,” is not exactly the best way to approach a grieving family. But you know, engaging in that conversation again after many years awakened something inside me (my spirit?) and, even surrounded by death, I feel more alive today that I have in years.
Yes, you can use the word ”spiritual” to mean many things. In the French language, “esprit” means liveliness, to be alive etc
You may have to ask yourself why you hang on to this term to describe matters like connectedness though, as it feels like a longing for something, and as you say, it is a well-worn substitute (some say more advanced) for religious leanings in commonly used human advertising language i.e. dating sites.
The connectedness you describe, for me, is better styled by the knowledge that everything around us is made of star dust, as it is often said in song.
As Oscar Wilde once claimed: “A sentimentalist is one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it.”
As I mention in my article, “Does You Soul Have a Goal?”, the Hebrew word “ruach” (and the corresponding Greek word “pneuma”) mean not only spirit, but also wind or breath. So, whether you believe in the immortality of the soul or not, your soul or spirit could be defined as what makes you feel alive, in more than the physical sense of breathing and functioning as a biological organism.
Yes, I agree that refering to yourself as “spiritual but not religious” can evoke a sense of longing: maybe for life to mean more that we can express in our short corporeal exsistance, for example, or perhaps to hold onto something positive about one’s religious upbring while rejecting the overall concept. And of course, not everyone who has left religion is an atheist. If you have read my responses to Marcus’ posts, you will hopefully see that I, as a Secular Humanist, am not at all conviced that what are capable of experiencing and understanding in or brief lifetimes is necessarily all there is. Considering all the possibilities and asking myself those questions makes me feel alive; “connected”, if you will, to the universe from which all my energy was derived.
i tried the belief-o-matic. here are my rankings. notice anything missing?
Secular Humanism (100%)
Unitarian Universalism (94%)
Liberal Quakers (85%)
Theravada Buddhism (84%)
Neo-Pagan (70%)
Nontheist (70%)
Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (65%)
Taoism (57%)
New Age (55%)
Mahayana Buddhism (53%)
Orthodox Quaker (52%)
Reform Judaism (49%)
Jainism (43%)
Baha’i Faith (39%)
Scientology (36%)
Sikhism (34%)
New Thought (33%)
Hinduism (32%)
Seventh Day Adventist (30%)
Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (28%)
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (27%)
Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (21%)
Islam (19%)
Orthodox Judaism (19%)
Jehovah’s Witness (15%)
Eastern Orthodox (15%)
Roman Catholic (15%)
yep, atheist. which i am pretty sure i am.
I too have recently realized that I’m a very spiritual atheist, but I really don’t like the term Secular Humanist. Is that really a “thing”? I hate to have to call myself that. It’s the connectedness that you mention that makes me feel spiritual.
Here’s a great quote from Neil DeGrasse Tyson.
*“Recognize that the very molecules that make up your body, the atoms that construct the molecules, are traceable to the crucibles that were once the centers of high mass stars that exploded their chemically rich guts into the galaxy, enriching pristine gas clouds with the chemistry of life. So that we are all connected to each other biologically, to the earth chemically and to the rest of the universe atomically. That’s kinda cool! That makes me smile and I actually feel quite large at the end of that. It’s not that we are better than the universe, we are part of the universe. We are in the universe and the universe is in us. I don’t know of any deeper spiritual feeling than what that brings upon me.”*
there is no spirituallity