From Phillip Adams of The Australian newspaper, noted Australian atheist.
Have faith in disbelief
The 20th century was defined and all but destroyed by its idealogies. Ideas in uniforms, Beliefs in boots. Scores of millions of human beings were butchered by other human beings because of dogmas that turned fractures into fissures into mass graves.
So, in our shiny, bright new century, the bedlam of beliefs grows louder and angrier as isms and ologies abound, proliferate and foment their hatreds. Until even the most sanguine observers must join Chicken Licken in observing that, yes, the sky is falling.
So, today I'm going to argue the case for disbelief. Why keep the faith when blind, uncritical, unthinking conviction leads to catastrophe? The time has come to heap all those isms and ologies on to the scrap heap of history, to break with beliefs that turn humans into humus.
Though awed by its majesty and mystery, I apprehend what is, in the final analysis, a meaningless cosmos. Welcome to a world without an author, a purpose, a destiny. The only meaning it has is the subjective meaning you choose to ascribe to it. If this sounds like a bleak prospect, let me assure you that it is, in fact, remarkably liberating. You are not burdened by original sin and neither anticipate heaven nor dread an eternity in hell. You're at liberty to formulate your own philosophies, your own morality, values and ethics. You will feel no need to brand one person a blasphemer or another a heretic, let alone to have them crucified or, in the name of Christ , burned at the stake. You will not genuflect at any altar, surrender to some alleged infallible or feel the obligation to obey some antique text. And although your values may concur with those of this faith or that, thet will come from independent thought rather than blind obedience.
Three cheers for disbelief. First of the many things I disbelieve in - the Supreme Being, Alpha and Omega, the Almighty, the All Holy, the Judge of All Men, the Maker of All Things, the Creator, the Preserver, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, the God of Abraham, the God of Moses and the Lord of Hosts.
I do not believe in the divinity of Jesus, let alone in his resurrection. Nor, in the interests of balance, do I believe in the gods and goddesses of the Greco-Roman pantheon, in the Homeric deities, in Erebus, Gala, Zeus, Jupiter, Jove, Pluto, Neptune, Apollo, Mercury, Vulcan, Artemis, Mithra, Indra, Brahma, Siva, Vishnu, Osiris, Isis, Anubis, Moloch, Odin , Wotan, Thor or Magog, or in any of the other gods that have gone to God, having well and truly outlived their use-by date.
I don't believe in archangels, angels of death or guardian angels, let alone in Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness, or Mephistopheies, Old Nick, Old Harry, Old Sratch, or Auld Horny. Goblins? No thanks, whether they're hob or not. Nor will I sign up for the tooth fairy or Father Christmas.
However, I am perfectly willing to change my mind on any or all of the above if you can present a scintilla of evidence. Should you place your teeth in a suitable receptable in a CSIRO lab where we can observe it being transubstantiated by a 50c piece, I'll be willing to accept the tooth fairy. But I will be harder to persuade on any of the supernatural beings listed above.
The lessons of history and current observations make me a bit iffy about such isms as nationalism, patriotism, capitalism and globalism. Among the less dangerous isms are Buddism, humanism, agnosticism and rheumatism - and even my favourite ism, atheism, can get a bit dangerous when it falls into the wrong hands.
Ism, schism. As soon as humans start believing in something, they turn it into a belief with a capital B. Then they get grumpy about it, condemning anyone who doesn't accept their beliefs with the appropriate degree of intensity. And the belief has to be exact. Which is why people on opposite sides of streets in Belfast, while professing to be Christians, all commit atrocities because of differences of dogma amounting to a couple of decimal points. It's much the same in Afghanistan, where Islam divides the followers of Mohammed that it's meant to unite.
So there you have it. The tip of the iceberg of my disbeliefs, many of which you may or may not share. But should you rid your mind of these restrictive, blinkered views, if you refuse to acquiesce to ordained authority, to orthodoxies and articles of faith, you'll suddenly have room, betwixt the ears, for all sorts of interesting possibilities.
You may discover a tendency to be less judgmental and more compassionate. You may find difference and pluralism delightful rather than threatening. You'll certainly stand a good chance of improving your sense of humour.
When you allow the breezes to blow through previously musty neurons and cobwebbed synapses, you'll feel less need to hate, which will, oddly enough, in no way diminish your capacity to love.
And that's one of the worst things about isms and ologies. They dramatically reduce your circle of friends while, of course, considerably increasing the number of your potential enemies.
After believing in silly things for hundreds and hundreds of centuries, now is the time to dump them in favour of disbelief. Choose insatiable curiosity over conviction. For questions are better than answers and doubts are preferable to dogmas, those detention centres for the human intellect.
Have faith in disbelief
The 20th century was defined and all but destroyed by its idealogies. Ideas in uniforms, Beliefs in boots. Scores of millions of human beings were butchered by other human beings because of dogmas that turned fractures into fissures into mass graves.
So, in our shiny, bright new century, the bedlam of beliefs grows louder and angrier as isms and ologies abound, proliferate and foment their hatreds. Until even the most sanguine observers must join Chicken Licken in observing that, yes, the sky is falling.
So, today I'm going to argue the case for disbelief. Why keep the faith when blind, uncritical, unthinking conviction leads to catastrophe? The time has come to heap all those isms and ologies on to the scrap heap of history, to break with beliefs that turn humans into humus.
Though awed by its majesty and mystery, I apprehend what is, in the final analysis, a meaningless cosmos. Welcome to a world without an author, a purpose, a destiny. The only meaning it has is the subjective meaning you choose to ascribe to it. If this sounds like a bleak prospect, let me assure you that it is, in fact, remarkably liberating. You are not burdened by original sin and neither anticipate heaven nor dread an eternity in hell. You're at liberty to formulate your own philosophies, your own morality, values and ethics. You will feel no need to brand one person a blasphemer or another a heretic, let alone to have them crucified or, in the name of Christ , burned at the stake. You will not genuflect at any altar, surrender to some alleged infallible or feel the obligation to obey some antique text. And although your values may concur with those of this faith or that, thet will come from independent thought rather than blind obedience.
Three cheers for disbelief. First of the many things I disbelieve in - the Supreme Being, Alpha and Omega, the Almighty, the All Holy, the Judge of All Men, the Maker of All Things, the Creator, the Preserver, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, the God of Abraham, the God of Moses and the Lord of Hosts.
I do not believe in the divinity of Jesus, let alone in his resurrection. Nor, in the interests of balance, do I believe in the gods and goddesses of the Greco-Roman pantheon, in the Homeric deities, in Erebus, Gala, Zeus, Jupiter, Jove, Pluto, Neptune, Apollo, Mercury, Vulcan, Artemis, Mithra, Indra, Brahma, Siva, Vishnu, Osiris, Isis, Anubis, Moloch, Odin , Wotan, Thor or Magog, or in any of the other gods that have gone to God, having well and truly outlived their use-by date.
I don't believe in archangels, angels of death or guardian angels, let alone in Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness, or Mephistopheies, Old Nick, Old Harry, Old Sratch, or Auld Horny. Goblins? No thanks, whether they're hob or not. Nor will I sign up for the tooth fairy or Father Christmas.
However, I am perfectly willing to change my mind on any or all of the above if you can present a scintilla of evidence. Should you place your teeth in a suitable receptable in a CSIRO lab where we can observe it being transubstantiated by a 50c piece, I'll be willing to accept the tooth fairy. But I will be harder to persuade on any of the supernatural beings listed above.
The lessons of history and current observations make me a bit iffy about such isms as nationalism, patriotism, capitalism and globalism. Among the less dangerous isms are Buddism, humanism, agnosticism and rheumatism - and even my favourite ism, atheism, can get a bit dangerous when it falls into the wrong hands.
Ism, schism. As soon as humans start believing in something, they turn it into a belief with a capital B. Then they get grumpy about it, condemning anyone who doesn't accept their beliefs with the appropriate degree of intensity. And the belief has to be exact. Which is why people on opposite sides of streets in Belfast, while professing to be Christians, all commit atrocities because of differences of dogma amounting to a couple of decimal points. It's much the same in Afghanistan, where Islam divides the followers of Mohammed that it's meant to unite.
So there you have it. The tip of the iceberg of my disbeliefs, many of which you may or may not share. But should you rid your mind of these restrictive, blinkered views, if you refuse to acquiesce to ordained authority, to orthodoxies and articles of faith, you'll suddenly have room, betwixt the ears, for all sorts of interesting possibilities.
You may discover a tendency to be less judgmental and more compassionate. You may find difference and pluralism delightful rather than threatening. You'll certainly stand a good chance of improving your sense of humour.
When you allow the breezes to blow through previously musty neurons and cobwebbed synapses, you'll feel less need to hate, which will, oddly enough, in no way diminish your capacity to love.
And that's one of the worst things about isms and ologies. They dramatically reduce your circle of friends while, of course, considerably increasing the number of your potential enemies.
After believing in silly things for hundreds and hundreds of centuries, now is the time to dump them in favour of disbelief. Choose insatiable curiosity over conviction. For questions are better than answers and doubts are preferable to dogmas, those detention centres for the human intellect.
