What started as a simple comment on Lisa Hickey’s post about atheism and 9/11 resulted in a three-way conversation about life, faith, heaven, and agreeing to disagree.
I’ve never had an appetite for, nor interest in, sexual threesomes. I’m not sure why. It has just never seemed appealing to me. But I did find myself in a three-way last week. But it was intense and passionate. It was evocative and lightly conflicted. It ebbed and flowed and finally played itself out with all three spent and satisfied. I think we were all satisfied. I know I was. The thing is, there was nothing sexual about it. It was a three-way conversation—about spirituality and faith.
It all started with Lisa Hickey’s post, “On 9/11, Atheism, Buttons, and Bowling for Jesus.” In the article, Lisa answered a question that I e-mailed to her as I watched the ceremony at Ground Zero on 9/11. The article attracted a broad atheist audience, and one atheist in particular, “TFM” is his username, reacted to what Lisa said and to some of my responses to Lisa. What ensued was a series of comments that became a 6,500-word conversation about faith, religion, God, heaven, rationalism, secular humanism, and bunny rabbits.
What was striking to me was the balance and respect that the three of us found as we talked about topics that evoke strong feelings and do not afford much common ground. No one tried to change anyone else’s mind. But neither did anyone back down from what they held as truth.
Spirituality, no matter how you understand it, is core to what it means to be human. The things we believe shape the way we behave. And the more we are willing to examine our beliefs, the more we learn about ourselves and each other. That’s what I found so satisfying in the three-way with Lisa and TFM. I learned something about myself, and I have a new appreciation for what the two of them believe.
Below are excerpts from the exchange. If you want to read the whole thing, and maybe learn a little something about yourself, check out Lisa’s original post.
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Roger: I understand your questions. I understand your doubts. I’m not a believer in miracles, as many faith traditions have historically presented them. I don’t believe that the Bible is unquestionable and “true” in the sense of being historically or scientifically defensible. Much of the bad stuff that happens in the world looks capricious and cruel, and would insist that there can’t be some “omnimax guy” (who says God is a guy, by the way, if, in the end there is such a thing/person/entity?) pulling the strings. I have no metaphor for God that is truly satisfactory, but the closest I can come is from my experience as a parent, and a son. Here’s a story from my life that helped me to “understand” the possibility of God, more than anything I learned in seminary.
My older brother is manic-depressive. He has manages his illness fine, when he stays on his medication. But, like so many with mental illness, he goes through cycles where he decides he has been cured, and he doesn’t need the meds anymore. And he continued his abusive behavior. My mom, to this day, still gets tears in her eyes as she tells of calling the police and asking them to come and help her get her son to the hospital. She will never forget the look on my brother’s face as the police car pulled out of the driveway. He looked at his mom, my mom, with a look of utter betrayal. How could she, who was supposed to love him, stand there and do nothing. She knew that he could end up on the streets—homeless. Then she would have another set of wrenching decisions to make. Fortunately, that never happened.
There is too much evidence, in my view, that a force for Good and Love is at work in our world. And human ingenuity, or natural selection, do not explain it adequately.
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There are a lot of ways that analogy breaks down when you try to apply it to God, but what it helps me to understand is that we have only one part of the story, right now. We stand in my brother’s shoes, and cannot know the heart and mind of “the god” (if she/he exists). But that is not reason enough for me to refuse to believe in that existence. There is too much evidence, in my view, that a force for Good and Love is at work in our world. And human ingenuity, or natural selection, do not explain it adequately.
TFM: The story of your brother and mother is heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, and the core theme that love is complicated resonates with me. There are a few points in your interpretation, however, where I go in a different direct from you:
You wrote: “But I do believe that evolution is inadequate when it comes to explaining the capacity of human being to Love…” We could quibble about what counts as “adequate” I’m sure, but evolution isn’t completely useless when it comes to understanding love or any other human emotion. Evolution doesn’t offer a designer, but natural selection accounts for some characteristics—emotions, for example—giving a survival advantage to some species, while the absence of those characteristics could be selected against…
Atheists don’t miss out on love just because they don’t believe God or some other supernatural force is the source of it.
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Atheists don’t miss out on love just because they don’t believe God or some other supernatural force is the source of it. You wrote: “There are a lot of ways that analogy breaks down when you try to apply it to God, but what it helps me to understand is that we have only one part of the story, right now.”
The story of your brother to us “standing in your brothers shoes” relative to God was touching, and well-written. Not that you were trying to bring me around (nor I, you), but where the analogy fails for me is that to make some of God’s actions and inactions loving, we would have to surrender any normal notion of what the word means. That kind of love I can do without.
Maybe religious people believe the power [of god] is only for the good? I simply don’t know.
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Lisa: Hi TFM (Roger),
One thing I am curious about — “Letting innocent people suffer and die horrible deaths despite having the power to spare them.” — is that what people who believe in God believe? (That’s how I was brought up). If there is no power, then I simply don’t see the point. Maybe religious people believe the power is only for the good? I simply don’t know.
TFM: Like you, I was raised Catholic, so that included believing God was all-everything: powerful, loving, and knowing, etc. However, many believers throw up a curtain of mystery for God to hide behind until the contradictions fade enough to go back to pointing out examples that confirm their expectations. It’s a very important point you make—and one I’ve seen believers consistently misunderstand about atheists—that you weren’t angry at God.
Roger: Lisa, you ask: “’Letting innocent people suffer and die horrible deaths despite having the power to spare them.’ — is that what people who believe in God believe?” My question would be, if there is no god, and there is nothing beyond this life, then what difference does it make how someone lives or dies? It is my belief that God is that force at work in the world that pulls the thread of hope and goodness and love out of even the most horrific of circumstances. That leaves rooms for lots of questions. But I would prefer to live with those questions than to structure my beliefs in such a way that there is not room for some force, beyond human ingenuity and goodness, that is at work in the universe. I respect your choice to place your faith in human kindness and goodness. It’s just not a choice I am willing to make; or, better stated, I am not willing to limit my faith to that. No judgment intended.
I’m not saying that the only way to have those things in your life is to believe in God, but that’s my reality. In the end, it may be that simple.
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Roger: TFM, when it comes right down to it, the choice for me is as simple as a choice about music. Some people like country music. Some people like rap. Some people like classical music. I like a variety of music, but often, I gravitate to the tranquility of classical music. It soothes me. It comforts me. It quiets me. I view my choice to believe in God in much the same way. It soothes me. It comforts me. It quiets me. It orients my life toward hope and toward love and toward promise. I’m not saying that the only way to have those things in your life is to believe in God, but that’s my reality. In the end, it may be that simple.
The other thing I would say is that much of what I read in your response suggests an either/or way of thinking. I don’t know if that is you, or if that is characteristic of atheism, but I choose to look at the world as both/and, rather than either/or…Could it be that God exists for me, because I am looking for God, and God does not exist for you, because you are looking for God not to exist?
Lisa: Roger, that is one of the most beautiful and eloquent articulations of faith I have read. Thank you for that.
TFM: Roger, we could have different tastes in music, and even though some aspects of music could be compared and contrasted on objective qualities like tempo or what instruments are used, the final judgment of how pleasurable or inspiring our respective music choices are would be subjective. I’ve gotten sort of a deist vibe from you, and like many atheists, deism doesn’t really violate my sense of rationality. Taste is debatable, whether in music or spirituality, so even though I naturally favor my own opinions, I recognize that such opinions aren’t either/or, right/wrong, white/black, etc. There’s a lot of middle ground on abstract stuff where “truth” is relative to where you stand, what you look for, what your biases are, and so on.
Then there are other kinds of truth claims where it is logically impossible to say something can equal “A” and “Not A” at the same time. He can’t be both able and unable. It’s either/or. And so it goes with his other omni-characteristics and specific claims of faith that are more than just aesthetic abstractions.
Roger: TFM – deist, theist, Buddhist, Christian, Jewish, atheist…those distinctions don’t really mean much to me. Ultimately, I think we are all searching for the same thing—a way to make sense of our existence. Let me try another analogy.
Each of us is free to choose the story that we want to define our lives. The story that we choose gives us a way to understand the world and to organize our relationship to it. From what you have said, atheists choose a strictly rational story as their own. If it is not rational, it does not fit, and therefore cannot be true or trusted. I, on the other hand, choose a story that allows for some mystery, allows for unanswered questions—allows for ambiguity. I don’t feel the burden to make sense of God that you seem to feel.
Have you read Watership Down? It is an allegory about the importance of story in shaping the identity of communities and the individuals within those communities. I think that the stories we choose to structure our lives around are critically important.
I believe that we will all end up in a very similar place. I choose to believe that place is heaven—where Love will rule the day—where the rational and the irrational will be one and the same—where differences will be meaningless—where unity will be unmistakable.
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I am happy with the choice of story I have made. I presume you are happy with the choice you have made. And I believe that we will all end up in a very similar place. I choose to believe that place is heaven—where Love will rule the day—where the rational and the irrational will be one and the same—where differences will be meaningless—where unity will be unmistakable.
TFM: You’re so agreeable to disagree with, Roger, that I sometimes can’t tell which one I’m doing. I get the feeling we’re not that different in our tastes for stories or the wisdom we’ve gleaned from them, but I give a less literal reading wherever supernatural stuff is involved. But hey, if I’m wrong, I won’t mind ending up in the kind of afterlife you describe.
Roger: Read Watership Down, oh Literal/Rational one. But don’t take it literally. Let it be metaphor.
TFM: I’ve seen the cover of Watership Down—does that count? I’ve certainly heard of it, but never got around to reading it. I think when it was on an elective reading list back in junior high, I opted for Lord of the Flies because based on covers, I judged Watership Down to be about a bunny. I’ll put it on my list. While we’re sharing stories that influenced our thinking, I was especially fond of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It’s been a while since I read it, but if I remember right, your ideas on goodness remind me a lot of his (Pirsig’s) ideas on Quality.
—Photo guldfisken/Flickr
I love debating with respectful people. Hate debating with mean people. Love vs Hate. Debating intelligently requires respect and not being so identified with one’s thoughts that one feels attacked when the idea is attacked. Disagree w/o being disagreeable. Shall I say Love? Yes! When we love one another we can disagree w.o fear of rejection of our person(a). Ultimately we are NOT our thoughts. ROGER: when you wrote “Ultimately, I think we are all searching for the same thing—a way to make sense of our existence.” you summarized it for me. I learned as a Buddhist (oops! I mean… Read more »
Clark – thanks for your response. I do think that we are extremely anthropomorphic in our attempt to understand something that is far more complex than we can fully comprehend. For some of us who think in pretty structured ways, it is important. The freedom that you find in buddhist thought can be terrifying to others. I find it a little intimidating, myself. As for the “feeling space” that’s an interesting question. We are going to explore “men and spirituality” on this site in October. I hope you will weigh in. Stereotypically, men don’t spend much time in the feeling… Read more »
It’s funny…I’m someone who has had an interest in threesomes – at least if we’re talking fantasies – and I didn’t even realize I was in one. That’s probably for the best, though, since the gender ratio on this one would have made it the bad kind for me. Also, no offense, Roger, but none of my threesome fantasies involve ordained ministers. I’m not sure what to make of the accompanying graphic, either. Two cherries seem to be getting it on while a third watches from behind a branch. Which cherry was I? If I choose to be the one… Read more »