In Defense of Atheism

There's a lot of stigma around identifying as an atheist in this country - to the point where people avoid using the "a-word" to describe themselves, even if they truly don't believe in any deities, or belong to any religions. (There's a similar phenomenon with the word "feminist" - people who believe all genders should have equal rights and opportunities still shy away from calling themselves feminists, just because there is a stigma attached to the word.)

In fact, about 9-10% of Americans say they do not believe in God, but only 1.6% are willing to label themselves "atheists." (From Wikipedia) But why? Why are people so afraid to call themselves atheists - even if, looking at the definition of atheist, they clearly are?

For one thing, atheists have an automatic second-class status in this country. As Berlinerblau writes in his book How To Be Secular: A Call to Arms for Religious Freedom, "the nonreligious have always had to fight for the right to be considered equal in America. This has much to do with the Constitution's inability to take them into consideration." The Bill of Rights maintains that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof" - but says nothing on the topic of the free exercise of no religion. 

For another thing, people shy away from the "atheist" label because a series of common misconceptions that have grown to be associated with the term. A 2006 study involving a poll of 2000 households in the U.S. found that atheists were the most distrusted minority group - more distrusted than Muslims, recent immigrants, homosexual individuals, rapists, and other groups. (Also from Wikipedia) We hear that atheists don't believe in anything, are evil and immoral, and hate or know nothing about religion. Never mind that none of these are true - if society as a whole perpetuates these ideas often enough, they start to seem true. And because no one wants to be called evil, ignorant, and full of hatred, we also start not wanting to be called an atheist.

Here are some common misconceptions about atheists, and why they aren't accurate:

1. Atheists don't believe in anything.

By definition, atheists don't believe in deities. This includes the God or gods of any religion, past or present, as represented in the stories of those religions. This does not necessarily mean that they don't believe in any aspect of these stories - just that they view them through a historical or literary lens, interpreting them as allegories or mythologies, rather than 100% fact.

Some atheists leave it at that. They refute the existence of any particular God or gods they are familiar with, but allow for the possibility of non-defined deities: unpersonified forces, like Karma, or Destiny, or Fate; generalized spiritualities to alleviate concerns that nothing in their lives is predetermined and even though Someone is not "in control," perhaps Something is. Other atheists refute the existence of these as well.

But everyone believes in something. If you don't believe in guiding forces, you believe in choice and free will and human action (or inaction). Many people (religious and non-religious both) believe in scientific theories, in logic and reasoning, in thoughtful discourse, and in the importance of education. You might believe humans are inherently good, or that humans are inherently evil, or that humans are just inherently human, and that judgments of good or evil are subjective and irresponsible - but each of those is still a belief.

We all find ways to explain our world, and at least some of these require a leap of faith of some kind or another - even if we later find more concrete evidence to back it up. We put our faith in science and the natural world, or in other humans, rather than in gods. We trust each other, or hope we can. We turn to figures of authority. Religious people might turn to the clergy members of their faith; non-religious people might look to their governments, or to experts in whatever field they need advice in - like scientists, doctors, or historians - which they implicitly or explicitly trust.

Some people even group atheists and agnostics together, opining that anyone who doubts or neglects to consider the possibility of the existence of deities is the same as the sort of person who would outright deny gods. But many agnostics do believe - or often believe, or believe in some aspects (but not all) of a certain religion.

To say that atheists don't believe in anything is clearly false. They just believe in different (and sometimes difficult-to-define) things - but things all the same.

2. Atheists are evil and have no morals.

This misconception goes off the idea that because religion offers a set of morals and rules for how to live a good life on earth, anyone who doesn't subscribe to religion will lack such morals and direction. Without religious teachings to guide them (or threaten them with eternal punishment for bad deeds), atheists have no incentive to give to charity, volunteer, be kind to others, or care about their communities. And without didactic religious stories and allegories to demonstrate proper morals, they lack empathy and compassion.

This is blatantly untrue, not least because there are plenty of anecdotal counterexamples of atheists who are generous and kind - and religious people who are definitively not. There are many sources one can use to find examples for how to live a generous life, and religious sources are only one subset. Literature, history, philosophy, music, and art can all teach us how to live by providing us with examples of the past triumphs and mistakes of individuals or societies, by engaging us in thought experiments to imagine different possibilities, and by demonstrating the depth and breadth of human accomplishment. 

Science can also inspire in a variety of ways. Those who study medicine, biology, and anatomy can learn to treasure human life through a deeper understanding of how our bodies work and how fragile yet resilient they often are. Chemistry, physics, earth sciences, the study of the environment, and astronomy can help us explain the earth (and universe) around us and figure out what role humans play (or should play) in it - as a whole and as individuals. You do not need to believe in creationism - intelligent design by a singular or multiple outside guiding force(s), such as God or other deities - to find awe in humans, the human body, the earth, the molecular structures that make up all of these things, or the wide reach of outer space.

You can advocate for the ethical treatment of animals because you believe they are all God's creatures - or you could do so because you've studied zoology or veterinary science, because you've studied the environment and ecosystems, because you've had pet companions over the years, or because you just think animals are adorable.

You can donate to the less fortunate because you believe your God desires all His servants to practice charity - or you could do it because you've witnessed your fellow humans experiencing hardships and been moved to help, or because you've studied your culture (or others) through a larger lens - like through sociology or anthropology or women's and gender studies or history or philosophy - and you know about systems of discrimination and privilege and want to do your part to dismantle them - even if just a little.

There are literally a million reasons (or combinations of reasons) one could use to rationalize a kind deed (or an unkind one). It doesn't have to be tied to religion at all.

Indeed (and this is my bias, I admit), I think many times atheists do MORE to help their communities than religious people do. There are those who believe their good acts will be rewarded in the afterlife (like being accepted into Heaven), or through a series of reincarnations - and so they do good things so they can reap those future rewards. But it can be really hard to work toward such delayed gratification - to do good things now and then have to wait decades or even multiple lifetimes to see the fruits of your effort - and it's frankly not a great motivator for many people. 

Volunteering atheists, on the other hand, are more likely to help their communities or the environment for other reasons - reasons that have a more immediate reward. They'll give money to a homeless person so that that homeless person has money now, they'll work to clean up a riverbank so that there is clean water available to the animal and plant species and the neighboring communities now, they'll do kind things so they can feel good about themselves now. They work to better the earth, and the people on earth, in tangible ways they can witness. Even if it's a larger project that they won't live to see the final result of, they will likely see at least some progress toward their goal. With more immediate gratification like this, it is easier to stay motivated, stay engaged, and continue to do good work. 

Furthermore, people who don't believe in any sort of afterlife rely entirely on their present life on earth. Yes, it can be disheartening and depressing to believe that these few (or many) precious decades we have on earth are all that we will ever have - but it can also be motivating. We have to do all we can now, make our mark on the world now, accomplish everything we want to in our lives now, because this is the only life we have, and we aren't sure how long it will last.

I think the act of living and interacting with others the best and easiest way to learn true compassion and empathy toward fellow humans. At the end of the day, you're not going to learn these behaviors and attitudes by reading them in a book or being chastized from a pulpit. We learn gradually, as babies and children and adolescents and adults. We talk to people who are different from us and we make friendships and forge connections. We learn how to be kind and compassionate through trial and error, and learn to be better people by witnessing the reactions our behaviors illicit. 

Psychology teaches us that we all crave connection and love. This human desire and need is enough incentive to be kind - or to try to be kind, or to find those people who we get along with naturally and form families and friendship units with them, practicing compassion and tolerance at least within the societies we choose to belong to, so that we may continue to belong to them. We don't have to be given reasons to be nice. Many of us inherently want to be. We may need guidance or practice figuring out how best to act, but we are already motivated to try.

Religious and non-religious people alike are therefore capable of generosity, empathy, and kindness, no matter our upbringing. Not everyone takes advantage of these opportunities, of course - but that failing is not limited to atheists. Everyone is also capable of doing "bad" things, making poor decisions, being mean and intolerant to fellow humans, rejecting empathy or compassion, and falling prey to greed, jealousy, and disrespect. They might even do these things because their beliefs (religious or non-religious) sanction such misbehaviors. It would be as much of a fallacy to say that all atheists are evil and morally corrupt as it would be to say that all religious people are. In the end, we are all humans, and all capable of choice and change.

3. Atheists hate religion and people who are religious.

Some atheists are undoubtedly distrustful, disrespectful, or condescending towards organized religions. Some of these atheists might even be passionate enough about these feelings to call it hatred. But it is a misrepresentation to say that all atheists feel this way, or to claim that all atheists wish to ban religion - just as it would be to say that all Christians hate non-Christians, or to claim that all Christians want to ban all religions other than Christianity.

For many atheists, I think any hatred they have is because of the power and privilege religious institutions often have. If people practiced their religion quietly and privately, it would not be nearly as problematic as it is when religious institutions begin to acquire authority and then use that authority to cast judgment on everyone, religious and non-religious included. In this case, it is not the religion itself, but the power it wields, that prompts fear, disgust, frustration, and anger.

I also know a lot of atheists who get very frustrated with staunchly religious people because it seems their religious beliefs close their mind from considering any alternate possibilities. They seem to take everything they've read in their religious texts or heard a religious figure of authority say as truthful without question, failing to think for themselves. These religious people come across as unnecessarily and dangerously stubborn, refusing to think critically. 

But many religious people say the same sort of thing about atheists. Religious people who find comfort in the traditions, rituals, and teachings of their faith find it deplorable that atheists would stubbornly refuse to take comfort in the same things. They see atheists as closed-minded when they refuse to consider the possibility of the existence of God. They assume that atheists take pleasure in shooting down all the evidence they suggest - that atheists are certifiable party-poopers when it comes to religion, determined to prove religion wrong and failing to see the "better," more imaginative, more truthful story.

There's a sprig of truth to both of those viewpoints. Some atheists do chose to deny the existence of deities simply because it's what feels most natural or easiest for them - and some theists do the same, never wavering from the religion they were brought up with, or considering other possibilities. But many don't. Many atheists take years of self-reflection to come to their conclusion, stepping away from faith or religious beliefs they held in the past - and continue to have doubts, even once they decide they're "pretty sure" there is no god. And many religious people are filled with doubt, and spend a great deal of time considering the possibility that their beliefs are wrong - even if on the outside it looks like they are quite settled in their faith.

And then of course, there is the problem that we often hate what we don't understand. We "other" groups that have different beliefs than we do, painting them with the same wide brush and pitting them against us. Atheists are not more likely to do this than religious people; we are all human, and all occasionally (or more often) forget to be compassionate. We would all do well to remember that people are icebergs, and there is always more to them that we do not see.

4. Atheists don't know specifics about religion or think about spirituality.

I touched on this in my previous point, but I feel it's a common enough misconception that it warrants its own set of paragraphs. Many religious people believe that atheists are atheists simply because they do not know better, or have not been properly and adequately exposed to their religion. Religious people often think atheists come from families where no one believes in god, and are therefore heathens who have never believed in god or entertained the possibility. This is simply not true.

In fact, self-reporting polls indicate that about 34% of self-identified atheists were raised Catholic, with further 36% from other Christian denominations. (Source) Still others step away from other, non-Christian faiths. These atheists obviously know something about religion. They may have even once whole-heartedly believed, never thinking (until they did) that they would one day reject certain parts (or all parts) of their religion.

Furthermore, some atheists, even those who grew up in non-religious families, spend a good chunk of their lives delving into religion and looking for some faith - any faith - which might speak to them, give them comfort, and prompt belief. And still others research religion through a scientific, philosophical, or literary lens - finding contradictions in religious texts in order to amass evidence for hearty debates, scrutinizing religious beliefs through logic and reasoning (for the sake of education, reaffirming their conclusions, or creating rousing, thought-provoking discussions with likeminded friends), or learning about the religions that have influenced art and literature throughout the course of history to have a better understanding and appreciation of these great works. 

I would guess that many atheists actually know more about religion than religious people do - because atheists who are interested in religion and have studied such things do so by casting a wider net than religious believers tend to use. Atheists don't have the same biases and preconceived ideas about specifics of a certain religion than people do who belong to that religion; they can often see the bigger picture in ways that people inside of it cannot.

5. Atheists are a homogenous group.

If you've read through all my previous points, you already know this one, so I won't linger too long on it.

Atheists are not all the same. Some once believed but no longer believe in God; others never believed at all. Some study religion and consider the possibilities of believing in different versions of spirituality, while others have no interest in those things. Some hate organized religions - for a variety of reasons - while others are apathetic. Some believe in ephemeral versions of spirituality, allowing for the existence of undefined forces like Fate or Destiny or Karma, while others believe in nothing but the things they can easily observe here on Earth. Some atheists are also secularists (see my previous post on secularism here), but not all. And some seem to live life without morals - but many have just as strong of a moral compass as religious people do (and perhaps an even stronger one).

I realize that, as a self-identified atheist, I'm a little biased. But I would hope that you don't have to be an atheist, or even know an atheist, to recognize that people are not "evil" just because they choose not to participate in religion, don't believe in deities, or are generally uninterested in entertaining the possibility of life after death. 

One of the greatest things about humans is that we are not all the same; it is my hope that we can acknowledge, respect, and celebrate all of our differences - even those we don't personally agree with, or completely understand.

There is nothing inherently wrong with being an atheist, and atheists do not deserve the stigma surrounding them. They also do not deserve to be ignored and excluded from conversations of religion and beliefs. We all do believe in something - insomuch as a belief is one's priority for how to live their life, make important choices, weigh consequences for their actions, forge relationships with other people, and create, serve, and belong to a community - and we all deserve to have those beliefs acknowledged and our voices heard.

The Separation of Church and State

I'm going to start this blog post out with a definition.

Secular: Adjective. Denoting attitudes, activities, or other things that have no religious or spiritual basis.

Secular means "non-religious." It does NOT necessarily mean "anti-religious." Those are two separate terms. "Non-religious" means that a specific item or institution (a building, a school district, a government, etc.) is not intended for religious use nor influenced by or supported by or affiliated with any religion. It is separate from religion; the two do not come in contact with each other. In reference to a person, it would mean that such a person is not affiliated with any religion, and does not adhere to religious beliefs or practices. 

"Anti-religious" would indicate that more contact is taking place; it hints at active attempts to suppress, alter, or control religion. An anti-religious person would be vehemently against participating in or witnessing religion; they might allow others to participate in religion privately, but certainly not publicly.

A person (and a government) can be non-religious without being anti-religious. There are some models of secularism that are anti-religious - specifically, France's laïcité, where the government actually dictates to its citizens the kind of religion-related clothes and symbols that can be worn in public schools or on public streets.

But when I talk about secularism, and wishing that the United States government was secular, I don't mean the rigorous sort of anti-religious secularism France seems to advocate - I mean only that I wish religion and government were separate entities (or, at least, as separate as they can be), and that I wish the First Amendment of our Constitution was upheld consistently and fairly, so that we all can benefit from its promise.

"Congress shall make NO law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." 

That clause was written into our Bill of Rights purposefully, with careful consideration, and despite controversy at the time, because the founders of our nation believed in those words. They knew European history, rife with its past and present religious conflict, and were afraid of repeating its mistakes. 

Some reasoned, as Martin Luther and John Locke had years earlier, that the government did not belong in religious affairs for ethical or spiritual reasons. "Religion," Thomas Jefferson wrote, "is a matter which lies solely between man and his God" - meaning that the government therefore has no right to endorse religion. Jefferson continued, "the legislative powers of government reach actions only, and not opinions." James Madison went one step further, reasoning that religious governments paved the way for pride and tyranny. He remarked that "superstition, bigotry, and persecution" were the fruits of the "legal establishment of Christianity." These two Founders were in the minority among Americans at that time, going farther than most in their beliefs that the government and religion shouldn't mix. Madison, especially, maintained an extreme pessimism about the social value of religion that few could agree with.

Still, and perhaps more tellingly, the Founders refrained from invoking the scriptures anywhere in the Constitution, despite the fact that they lived in a world culturally immersed in them and absolutely nothing was stopping them from doing so. Clearly, they did not have a "Christian nation" in mind (as so many argue today), and were willing to set the groundwork for a secular government to be constructed.

(All this, by the way, is according to the wonderful book How To Be Secular: A Call to Arms for Religious Freedom by Jacques Berlinerblau, which is amazingly well-researched and chock-full of footnotes and references.)

Despite these beginnings, however, our current government is not very secular. There is often no clear separation of church and state. There are references to God everywhere in our government - in our Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, printed on our money, and engraved on statues and government buildings all over this country. Other examples are nativity scenes, crosses, or statues of the Ten Commandments on public land, prayers starting public meetings, and prayers in public schools. This might not seem like such a big deal at first glance - but consider how alienating it can feel for someone who does not believe in any god, or someone who does not believe in a singular god, or the Christian capital-G God, to see "In God We Trust" on official government currency and buildings. Who is this "we" that's being referenced, and why are atheists and non-Christians immediately excluded from it?

These types of references to religion (Christianity specifically) are sometimes called "ceremonial deism." When it is challenged in court, it is often upheld by judges, under the reasoning that it is part of our national heritage, and simply tradition/custom at this point, without any overt religiousness. But if there were no passionate religious people behind the continued use of these phrases and these practices, then they wouldn't be defended so fervently in court. And, according to atheist author Greta Christina (http://www.alternet.org/belief/4-ways-christianity-sneaks-our-secular-government-and-why-it-matters), "every one of these 'ceremonial' incursions of religion into government gets used - on the ground, in tangible, real-world ways - to marginalize non-believers, and to treat them as second-class citizens." 

That linked article, by the way, has several examples backing up that claim - specific times when our nation's "In God We Trust" motto and public, government-sponsored prayer have been used to shame, belittle, and award second-class status to non-Christians. It also goes on to explain why, even if these instances WERE just symbols, just traditions, and not meant to be used as a way to discriminate against non-Christians - those symbols still matter. Nothing is too trivial when it is a symptom of a larger issue:

"Are these the most pressing problems facing the nation? No. Of course not... But that doesn't make them trivial. Symbolic issues can have a significant impact. Employers requiring women to wear makeup wasn't the most pressing problem facing the women's movement, but most people understand why it was a fight worth fighting. Segregated drinking fountains and lunch counters weren't the most pressing problems facing the civil rights movement, but most people understand why they were deeply troubling and needed to end. President Obama saying same-sex marriage should be legal had zero effect on same-sex couples' legal rights, but most people understand why the President's statement mattered, and mattered enormously."

Even "surface" discrimination can hurt. And just because something is tradition doesn't mean it still has a place in modern society. If you've seen the responses of civil rights activists to some Southern states still flying the Confederate flag, you know what I mean - seeing those symbols can be painful reminders that the government once (and STILL) endorses awful practices that particularly target marginalized groups. Why should people who belong to those groups, or people who call themselves supporters, allies, or friends, feel comfortable in such communities?

But the government doesn't only use these "ceremonial" instances of religion, either. Look at some of the policies that get passed, or that congresspeople try to get passed; look at some of the rhetoric government officials feel comfortable saying. Look at the religious beliefs that are taught as fact or viable possibilities in public school, such as creationism being taught as a legitimate alternative to evolution, or sexual abstinence being taught to the detriment of educating youth on other methods of birth control or STI prevention. Look at the way Congress impedes medical progress by attempting to curtail stem-cell research or abortion care in the name of religious beliefs. Look at the way the government bends over backward to accommodate outlandish corporate decisions about how to run their companies, compensate their employees, or provide health benefits - all because the CEOs claim their policies stem from religious (read: Christian) beliefs that they hold and desire to practice at work - even if that means coercing non-believer employees into adhering to tenants of a religion they do not support. 

The above examples only touch on a few; there are other very frightening ways in which the government supports Christian privilege in this country - through policies and through finances. Furthermore, several Christian groups lobby the government and influence these policy decisions.

I wish this wasn't the case. I wish our government was not influenced by religion - because when it is, it is inevitably Christianity that does the influencing. I also wish our government didn't support religious institutions - unless it can learn how to do so equally, with equal support given to all religious and non-religious groups (which I doubt is even possible) - because right now, when it does support religion, it is inevitably Christianity that it supports.

These sorts of practices perpetuate Christian privilege, deny people who belong to other religions the same opportunities, and often leave non-religious individuals out of the discussion altogether. Worse, when the government as an institution, or the people who represent it at federal, state, and local levels, model "othering" non-Christian groups by supporting only Christianity or making blanket statements about those who aren't Christian, they seem to sanction religious homogeneity, as well as discrimination, intolerance, and violence toward non-Christians. A government which endorses one and only one religion is one step away from a theocracy - and theocracies can be dangerous things: glorified cults that get away with all manner of atrocities in the name of religion simply because they have the numbers, the means, and the political power to back them up.

My next bouquet drawing will work to show the beautiful arrangement that can be made when all religions (and non-religious groups) are represented. I do not want to erase religion; I just want everyone to have a say. I want everyone's beliefs to be recognized and respected - and part of that is having a government which does not seem to endorse one religion at the expense of other religions, or at the expense of non-religious people. 

So what would a secular government even look like?

For a start, there would be no National Day of Prayer or religious words in the country's motto. There would be no nativity scenes in front of government buildings - because to do so would be to endorse a Christian holiday while ignoring or excluding the holidays of every other religion. The Pledge of Allegiance would return to its pre-1950s rendition - which didn't include the phrase "Under God". Public schools would teach only the topics that experts in those fields give merit to, and not present alternative views without such academic support as being equally worthy of consideration. (The news media, too, could learn from this - increasingly, journalists are presenting all possible opinions on a controversial topic as equally reasonable opinions to have, and thus legitimizing harmful, extremist opinions held only by a small, attention-seeking minority.)

Policies that a secular government passed would not be influenced by religious beliefs, or support other institutions or corporations which tried to coerce non-believers into being subject to the customs or beliefs of their religion. Everyone would be legally permitted to have sex or get married to those of their choice, presuming all parties were consenting adults. All medical procedures would be legal and available, presuming that they had gone through the rigorous trials that any medical procedure is subject to for approval, and no patient would be shamed for making a medical decision about their own life that went against the religious beliefs of their doctor, or coerced into refusing (or taking) medical treatment they wanted to receive (or deny).

Furthermore, if the United States government truly became secular, American Christians would lose a lot of privilege - which would create a more egalitarian society. (For more on Christian privilege, see this previous post. And for more on why a loss of Christian privilege would actually be a good step toward eradicating religious discrimination, read this blog post from Monday.)

I don't say this because I hate Christianity and want it to be eradicated, or because I want Christians to be persecuted. I just don't want Christians to have unfair advantages in this country any more than I want men to have unfair advantages over women, white people to have unfair advantages over people of color, or heterosexual or cisgendered individuals to have unfair advantages over those who don't identify in those ways.

Secularism does not equal atheism, and those who believe a secular government would be beneficial (to people of ALL religions, and to those who are non-religious) can also be religious people in their personal lives. In fact, many who advocate for a more secular government are religious - especially those who belong to minority religions (religions other than Christianity), who are troubled by recent policies of the Christian-controlled government. Even Christians can advocate for a more secular government, if they recognize that there are Americans who don't subscribe to their religious beliefs - Americans who are no less American for doing so. 

Democratic governments should represent all people - not just those belonging to the privileged religion. The best way to do this is to make sure the government is a secular one - and that it stays secular, regardless of which political party currently holds the presidency or congressional majority. Not only is secularism democracy - but it is a hallmark of our democracy, as the founding fathers intended.

That first clause of the First Amendment is so important. "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion." What is so hard to understand about that? When did the United States government forget this provision? And why did we, the citizens, let it happen - and continue to do so?

Religious Discrimination

Throughout history, people have been ignored, scrutinized, shamed, threatened, and persecuted for practicing a religion other than whatever happened to be the dominant religion in their region at that time. Even today, where outright, obvious persecution is less common, it can be very lonely to have a religious background different from the "mainstream" religious culture of an area. 

In the contemporary United States, Christianity is the dominant religion. As such, many Americans, even those who do not actively practice Christian worship as adults, have been exposed to Christian teachings, dogma, and traditions from a young age. But many others, particularly those whose families immigrated from areas of the world where Christianity is not the dominant religion, do not have this same upbringing (nor want it for their own children). America is a diverse nation, and every religion is represented in its population.

These non-Christian Americans lack religious privilege - their religion and cultural traditions are not seen as standard, their religious holidays are not observed at their places of work, and their government representatives are likely not people who subscribe to their religion. At best, these Americans may have to occasionally explain their holidays to Christian-Americans who are not familiar with any traditions other than their own, and may face minor discrimination, like insensitive comments or erasure of their religion or cultural experiences from mainstream media. At worst, these Americans may experience or witness verbal or physical threats, slurs and hate speech, intimidation, or violence - simply for daring to practice a religion (or look like someone who might practice a religion) other than Christianity.

There is a reason we have words like Anti-Semitism and Islamophobia - but no comparable word to describe prevalent anti-Christian sentiment. Contrary to what some right-wing news programs insist (*cough* Fox News *cough*), this type of systematic religious discrimination does not happen to Christians in America. Any slights that American Christians think they see directed towards their religion are only evidence of a loss of some of the privileges Christianity and Christians have had in America - and a loss of privilege is not the same thing as discrimination. A loss of privilege is in fact necessary for discrimination to be eradicated; all religions cannot be seen as equal when Christianity still holds privileges over American culture, media, and government that other religions do not have access to. (For more on Christian Privilege in America, visit this previous blog post I wrote in 2015.) 

What I'm about to say is going to sound controversial to a lot of people, but it's one of my fervent beliefs: Christianity is not inherently better or more true than any other religion, and does not deserve preferential treatment or privilege - in America, or anywhere else.

If I said a similar statement about white people, or heterosexuals, or men, there would be a lot less controversy. We've progressed enough as a society for most of us to realize that men are not inherently better than women, that people with light skin tones are not inherently better than people with more melanin, and that people with a heterosexual orientation are not inherently better than people who don't identify as heterosexual. This same line of reasoning, however, does not often enough continue into the discussion of religion - and I have a couple theories as to why.

First, it is a requirement of the Christian belief system to insist that there is only One Truth, and they are the only religion that has discovered it. They are not necessarily the only religion that does this, but neither is this mutual exclusivity clause a characteristic of all religions. There are some, especially polytheistic religions (those with multiple gods) or systems that emphasize a general spirituality, which allow for the possibility that multiple religions or ways of practicing spirituality are equally valid. 

Christians believe in only one god - their capital-G God, somehow split into a Holy Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and yet also one, indivisible entity - and that believing in this God is the only way to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, the glorified afterlife, upon earthly death. Some Christians might allow that it is possible for adherents of other religions to lead a somewhat moral life (many religions have similar teachings for how to conduct oneself on earth, after all), but even if someone were to lead a moral, good life and be easily classified as a "good person," they would not be rewarded after death, according to traditional Christianity. 

It's therefore not much of a stretch for Christians to insist that their religion is inherently better, and truer, than any other religion - because only Christians will get to go to Heaven - and that they thusly deserve special privileges, or are at the very least are entitled to a sense of superiority. They can try to claim religious freedom when they look down on or discriminate against people of other religions, because it is part of their religious belief system to believe they are right and everyone else is wrong. And then it becomes sticky. How can we ask Christians to give up their privilege and be more tolerant of other religions, if their religion discourages or forbids it? To them, it seems to be an act of intolerance against their religion to ask them to do so. Many Christians do not want to give up their privilege, and indeed don't think they are in the wrong at all - and it's hard to change if you don't want to. Furthermore, it's hard for outsiders to speak out against such religious egotism - especially if one is concerned about looking hypocritical.

Many Christians don't see it that way, of course. They frame their attitudes towards those of other religions differently - as genuine concern, driven by love and compassion. A Christian might argue that they want everyone to have access to the same privileges Christians do - both the earthly privileges of being a Christian in America and the "afterlife" privilege bestowed on all Christians worldwide who believe in God and Jesus. In a perfect world, they would convert everyone to Christianity so that everyone would be equal. In fact, there would be no distinction between a "privileged group" and "non-privileged group" at all if everyone belonged in the "privileged group." 

The only problem is that this utopian vision supposes that religion is a choice. And if religion is a choice, and there are so many advantages to being a Christian (from the Christian's viewpoint), how do we account for all the millions of people who haven't chosen to convert? Maybe some of them don't know about Christianity yet - and so the Christian's response is to send missionaries around the world, to witness to strangers, to make connections and forge friendships, and try to teach and persuade them. This will convert some. But not all. 

So then what do Christians do? What do they do with those who know Christian teachings, have attended church, have debated religion with friends and family and clergy, and yet still choose not to believe? Or those who immigrate to America, where Christianity is the dominant religion, and refuse to assimilate to it? Or those who are apathetic about questions of religion and spirituality altogether, and won't even listen, partake in discussions, or entertain the possibility of adopting Christian beliefs?

Christians start judging these people, these non-Christians who know about Christianity and yet persist in their previous lifestyle anyway. Christians see such non-Christians as either too stubborn to change, or morally corrupt and having too much fun "sinning" to change. They say, "I tried to show them the truth, but those heathens wouldn't listen." They say, "if they insist on defying me and defying God, then they deserve what they get, and I am not at fault." They wash their hands of their impending discrimination, claiming that deep down they want these non-Christians to change and that they tried to help them, as if those things somehow excuse them from the religious egotism that will soon follow. 

I'm generalizing, obviously. Not all Christians go through the above train of thought, and not all Christians are intolerant of all non-Christians. But many do, and many are - especially the Christians with power and authority, like clergy, politicians, and radio/television personalities. What's worse is that the many Christians who do and say these things would be supported by their churches and Biblical texts if they did. To be Christian is to believe in God (and only a very specific God at that, which includes belief in Jesus) and to think you are superior to those who don't believe. 

I also don't mean to suggest only Christians fall prey to this line of thinking, or that only Christians discriminate against those subscribing to other religions. I'm only singling Christianity out this post because it's the one I'm most familiar with (having grown up in a Christian family and believing in God for the entirety of my childhood and the majority of my adolescence), and because it's the dominant religion in America. In the United States, more often than not, those who discriminate against people from other religions are Christians.

So the first theory for why religious discrimination persists is the very construct of religions - at least those, like Christianity, who insist that there is only one "Right Way" to live and to believe.

The second theory, which I already touched on (because it really does go hand in hand with the first), is that we often view someone else's religion as a choice, but our own religious beliefs as a part of us: something not easily changed, something that we have little choice in. 

Many of us can't imagine subscribing to a different religion than what we grew up with, and to those who go about doing so, it's not an easy process. It involves a lot of self-reflection, and possible psychological, spiritual, emotional, and/or familial upheaval. It involves redefining who we are and who we want to be, through looking at the sorts of questions philosophers have struggled with for millennia: our purpose here on earth, the presence of evil, and the best way to live morally. Our religious beliefs are often at the very core of who we are - and yet, for some religious people, their first instinct when presented with someone belonging to a different religion, or to no religion at all, is to question "why not mine"? That is, "what is it about this person that prevents them from choosing to convert to my religion instead?" Converting to a different religion might not be an "easy" choice to make - but it is technically possible.

The fact that we see religion as a choice is so important, and I think contributes a great deal to why religious discrimination is still so prevalent - in America and throughout the world.

Things like race and sex are very obviously thrust upon people without their consent. People cannot choose what sex they were born as, or what their skin color is; such things are determined by genetics and chromosomes, over which we have no control. Of course, this fact didn't stop discrimination against people for these things in the past (or to this day) - but for many contemporary Americans, this is precisely the reason they try not to be racist or sexist against those of other races or genders. 

Race and sex are also things that are not easily changed. With advancements in biology, changing one's sex from the one assigned at birth is a lot easier than it used to be - but it still comes with a host of expenses that not everyone can afford, and is often difficult to obtain for other reasons, as well (not least because transgendered individuals also face discrimination). Changing one's race is even more difficult, though some people are able to successfully "pass" as someone from a different race.

In recent decades, sexual orientation has been added to this category of "relatively non-changeable identities that are assigned at birth". As more studies suggest that sexual orientation may also be (at least partly) determined by genetics, so too have more and more Americans pushed for equal treatment for everyone regardless of sexual orientation. (I've written about this before - check out this previous post (also from 2015) for my opinions on searching for a "gay gene")

It doesn't seem fair to judge someone based on something they can't help; they didn't choose to be part of a group of people traditionally discriminated against, and would theoretically have chosen to be born into the group of people with privilege, if they had been given the choice. They therefore don't deserve to be blamed or shamed or discriminated against; if anything, they deserve pity and/or additional aid to raise their station to those of the people with privilege. 

But there's a problem with this line of thinking (well, actually a few problems, but I'm only going to focus on one right now). If we agree as a society that we shouldn't judge people for something they can't control, this apparently gives many people the justification to argue that we can judge people for things they can control - the things they choose to do. 

And if we're judging other people's actions... It hardly matters what genes they do or don't have, does it? We can claim we're discriminating against black people not because they are black, but because they "act" black. ("If you're afraid for your children's safety, maybe stop letting them listen to rap music that glorifies violence.") We can justify discriminating against women if we insist we're not doing it because of their inherent biology, but because of their choices. ("If you didn't want to be assaulted, maybe you shouldn't have dressed in such a short skirt.") And we can argue that homophobia is fine - as long as it's gay sex, gay relationships, and gay marriage we're complaining about, and not gay people in and of themselves.

This is precisely what those who are insistent on discriminating against gay people argue, to this day. They will not be deterred by scientific evidence of a gay gene; they will assert that people can still choose which sexual acts they engage in, regardless of genetic inclinations. They will take a gay child and say, "this child might be born gay, but they don't have to act gay," and they will send them to conversion therapy in the hopes of teaching them proper, more socially acceptable behaviors.

(Never mind that many of these people are the same people that argue "boys will be boys." Heterosexual men are given a pass to let their sexual urges overcome their powers of higher reasoning and self-control, because they are in the privileged group. But that's another conversation.)

The thing is, these people are right - it seems contradictory, but we really are born with certain characteristics that our outside our control AND have the ability to make choices and help direct the trajectories of our lives. But what these people forget is this: 1) These choices are only theoretical, and a lot harder to make and maintain in practice, and 2) It's not really much of a "choice" at all, really, if someone is shamed, threatened, coerced, or encouraged into making it - if the "choice" comes from the outside, rather than from within.

Put another way, they suppose that all choices are available to everyone (even though they're not), and that all choices are similar enough to each other to be interchangeable (for someone else, of course - but not for them). They might say: "Just have sex with someone of the opposite gender instead of someone of the same gender. It's not so different. You can do it; you can change." Or: "Just pray to a different god. It's practically the same anyway, just more correct." But ask them to change, and get a completely different response.

A gay person can try to be in a heterosexual relationship, or no relationship; they can try (and many do) to suppress their true desires. But that doesn't mean they want to, and it doesn't mean they make that choice willingly. They feel trapped or coerced into doing things that make them unhappy or that don't feel natural to them - all because certain behaviors have attached shame in our society, while others (those performed by privileged groups) are considered acceptable.

Religion is the same way; to a lesser extent, so is class. Theoretically, we have at least some control over what religion we subscribe to (or whether we subscribe to any religion at all), or how much money we have. We can do things to try to raise our income (such as getting a college degree, or studying a specific field with plentiful high-paying jobs, or working longer hours, or prioritizing work over family, or choosing not to have children), and we can convert to another religion, or step away from religion altogether. But that doesn't mean that those choices are equally available to everyone, or that they are easy to make.

Many people forget how fickle choices can be. They ask: Why can't poor people just choose to move up in the world, pulling themselves up by their bootstraps? Why can't homosexual individuals just choose to suppress those desires and forge heterosexual relationships, or opt for celibacy? Why can't non-Christians just convert to Christianity? If it would make their lives easier to be a part of the privileged group, why don't they choose to do so?

They neglect to see the bigger picture. Especially where social class is concerned, there are a lot of things that can get in the way and prevent choice. Which fields have plentiful high-paying jobs might change between when you enter a program and when you finish it. Some people don't have the money to pay for college, or the time to devote to studying a new line of work. Career and education opportunities, not to mention birth control, are not equally accessible to everyone. It might seem like a choice to those who have all these choices available to them - but to others, there's only ever one option they can see, one path they can take.

Because this is supposed to be a post about religion, let me focus on just that from here on out.

We theoretically have the ability to choose whatever beliefs we want. We can buy in to the prepackaged belief systems of any number of major religions, or even pick and choose, building our own personal beliefs. But our willingness and ease in doing so depends on how we were raised, what different religious/spiritual options (or non-options) we've been exposed to, how open we (and often, our families) are to the idea of changing something as crucial to our self-definition as what we believe in, and the resources we have available to us.

Still. Even if religion was 100% our own personal choice, with no outside influence from our families and cultural traditions - why does that make it suddenly acceptable to discriminate against others based on this choice? We make choices and form preferences every day, on a great multitude of things, and don't pass moral judgment on people based on other decisions. Some people like the color blue, or watching sci-fi movies, or eating tacos; others hate blue, sci-fi movies, and tacos - but we're all willing to recognize that both of those groups of people are people of equal value, who deserve equal treatment and respect.

Maybe it has to do with how we define ourselves. Most of us don't prioritize a love of Mexican food as a defining characteristic about ourselves - but we might say "Christian" or "Hindu" or "Atheist" as a top-five descriptor of our core persona. (Perhaps this would also explain why people get so up-in-arms about sexual orientation. Though "gay" or "straight" might not necessarily be part of someone's go-to self-description, relationships with others very well could be. We define ourselves as "husband"; "wife"; "mother"; "father"; "brother"; "sister"; etc. - meaning that who we choose to love and nurture relationships with is also part of our core being.)

This can't be the only reason, however - because another very common way to define who we are as a person is what we do for a living. And while we might form opinions about someone's interests, priorities, or wealth/social class once we learn their occupation or field of study, we don't tend to dehumanize them or cast moral judgment on their life choices simply for having a different job than we do. It would be beyond arrogance to assume that just because you love being a doctor, and are good at being a doctor, and earn a good living as a doctor, that everybody else should be a doctor, too - and yet, that is precisely what many religious people do about religion.

We make choices all the time, and often give great thought into them, especially if they're Big Choices, like where to live, who to marry, what profession to pursue, what college to attend, or whether or not to start a family. We might even form pro-con lists, weighing the consequences to determine which is the best choice. But we do this for ourselves - not for other people. We're looking for what the best choice is for OUR lives - based on our goals, what we hope our lives will turn out to be, our preferences, and our gut reactions. We don't presume that just because a choice is the objectively right choice for us, it must also be the right choice for everyone else.

And here's where it comes full circle and taps back into theory number one. Many people separate out religion as not only a choice but a choice where there is only one "right choice" FOR EVERYONE - because that is precisely what their religion demands. Christians have to judge non-Christians as misguided, ignorant, unfortunate, pitiable, stubborn, and/or morally bankrupt - because if they didn't, what would that mean for their own beliefs? If it's okay for Stranger A to not believe in Jesus and still be a good person - wouldn't it also have to be okay for Christians to change their mind and no longer believe? If all religions (or following no religion at all) are equally valid life choices, then the pillars of Christianity would collapse. Christians are counting on the fact that there is only One Truth, and they (and only they) believe in it; they can't ignore this aspect of their religion, because it is at the core of what their religion is.

And then, consider that Christianity is not the only religion that thinks it is the rightest, truest religion. Furthermore, no one can definitively prove one way or another which religion is the rightest and truest. That's kind of the point of religion. You believe in it on faith. It can't be physically proven here on earth, but some feel it, and know in their hearts that it must be. So now we have competing religions, each one arguing that they are right and all others are wrong, and they are justified in discriminating against those who don't believe what they believe. This is how wars break out.

You can insist that it comes from "a place of love" all you want, but it will always come across as arrogant to the people you are talking to. You are still asserting that something is undeniably true which no one can actually prove, and then getting angry, personally offended, frustrated, or harshly judgmental when you come across someone who lives a different life than you and doesn't see things the same way you do.

It is human nature to see everything through our own lens of experience. What else can we do? We know what we know; we know what we've lived. But there is a difference to not understanding someone else's point of view and refusing to listen, a difference between not understanding someone else's point of view and assuming their point of view has no value, simply because it is outside the realm of your understanding.

For these and so many other reasons, it doesn't make sense to shame people for their choices. (Unless, of course, their choices are hurting someone else - murder, for example, is not an appropriate choice no matter who you are.) As long as someone's pursuit of happiness does not infringe on someone else's, one sort of behavior should not be condemned while another is praised. "Different strokes for different folks," right? We all have different preferences; there should be nothing wrong with following them.

So getting back to that controversial statement I made. "Christianity is not inherently better or more true than any other religion, and does not deserve preferential treatment or privilege - in America, or anywhere else."

Perhaps you disagree with the first half of that sentence and insist that Christianity is better and more true than any other religion. It's your prerogative to believe that, just as it's mine not to. But hopefully the second half of my claim doesn't sound quite as controversial. We should not afford privileges to any group nor shame or discriminate against people, on the basis of race, gender, sexuality, religion, class, or ability. Period.

It doesn't matter whether someone was born into a Christian household and raised Christian, or whether they were not brought up as Christian but converted later in life, or whether they were born into a Christian family but then stepped away from their family's religion, or whether they are not Christian, have never been Christian, have no interest in Christianity, and would never choose to subscribe to that religion - regardless of their religion, or even a choice to be completely non-religious, everyone should be treated equally. We are all human, and as such, all deserve respect.

Let me repeat myself. It doesn't matter if someone belongs to or identifies with a group by choice or by birth. We are all human, and as such, all deserve respect.

Why on earth should that mean that it isn't real?

This post is going to be a continuation of yesterday's post about mind-body dualism, so you may want to start there if you haven't read it yet.

As I said yesterday, though part of me is swayed by the scientific proof of monism - the idea that everything is built out of one category of substance (atoms, molecules, chemicals, cells) - I am ultimately too enamored with the idea of dualism to suspend belief that there is a second, incorporeal substance also at play in nature. We are not just bodies, but bodies and minds (or souls, depending on how you want to label it).

I acknowledge that I am, to some extent, governed by my chemicals and hormones and neurons and all of the other building blocks that create and multiply and manipulate my cells, or communicate between them. I even understand that when I dream at night I am in actuality at the mercy of coincidences and firing neurons; that what I choose to interpret as a story, with colors and faces and emotions and conflict and resolution, is not created or influenced by a separate substance (my mind, my soul, my intuition, creativity, inspiration, a collective unconscious I'm tapping into, or anything spiritual like that) but by the same category that maintains my blood circulation and digestive tract: Atoms. Molecules. Things that science can observe and quantify and explain (or are working toward observing, quantifying, and explaining).

But I care about those stories I dream, or the stories I come up with in the daytime and attempt to put to paper, or the subjects I want to draw or paint - and to write or create art the way I want to, I feel like it diminishes it to think of it through the lens of monism.

Sure, I am able to see color because of the way my eyes work and the cells that make up my eyes; I am able to hold a paintbrush because of the cells in my hand; I am able to retain muscle memory and things I've practiced and learned in school for the best techniques to use because of the cells in my brain. And to some people - the scientifically minded, the monists - this is more than enough, and they can find excitement and inspiration in the idea that everything comes down to essentially one thing, or that everything is born from essentially one thing, and that any differences we see - at the molecular or macro level - are just different rearrangements of the same basic substance.

Good for them! I'm not knocking monism. It's just not how I think of things, and I don't see the value (and in fact see negative consequences) in retraining myself to think of the world that way. I could persuade myself if I really wanted to. I definitely see the reasoning and the merits. But I don't think it matters to my life, and because it is not my gut reaction, I fear that it would take away something of who I am to try to dissuade myself of my belief in dualism.

I am an artist, and a writer. I like looking at art, and reading books. I like writing poetry. I like listening to music. I like being creative. I like thinking of myself as a body and a soul, and other people as a body and a soul. I like imagining that there is this creativity or inspiration that ebbs and flows and visits us and abandons us and takes us on journeys and sets our hearts on fire. I like dreaming; I like trying to influence my dreams in the moment of the dreaming, and I like interpreting them after the fact. I like sitting around and thinking and philosophizing. I like asking 'what ifs'.

I like thinking of my emotions, my mood, my intuition, my dreams, my creativity, my art, my writing, as a separate entity. Something to conquer or challenge or accept or adore or avoid or manipulate or mold or cherish or abhor. Something that is unique to me, but also something that is similar to what everyone else has and experiences - a collective pool that we all dip our toes into once and awhile, and dive into even rarer still. Something that is sometimes out of our control - which is frustrating at times but beneficial at other times. Something that is separate from my physical body and will exist in some form after my body dies.

I don't think my soul will go to heaven or hell because I don't think those are actual places. But I am open the idea of reincarnation. I like the idea of the ancient goddess, where we are all birthed from the same womb, live physical lives, and then are returned to that sacred womb to be reborn into another life (with or without knowledge of previous lives). That doesn't mean I believe in a goddess, or a specific womb that exists. I just like the imagery of it. The Neo-Platonists had a similar idea - this Oneness that we all come from and return to. It's actually almost monist sounding, right? We are all essentially the same thing, born from the same substance, made of the same substance, and return to that substance when we return. But I think of it in a dualist way.

There's this spiritual substance (spirit, soul, mind, unconsciousness, etc.) - let's just call it Substance 1 for the sake of simplicity. And this substance is unquantifiable and unidentifiable and really hard to understand or know or label - because that's kind of the point of it. We can only feel it - in our guts, in our hearts, in our minds. We can't touch it with our hands, or see it or hear it or taste it or smell it or observe it in any way. It's extrasensory.

I like to imagine that we are that substance, at our cores. If our bodies ever ceased to exist, or if we were in a transition state between bodies, we would still be Substance 1. It's our emotions, our collective unconscious, the stuff of dreams, our creativity, our childish sense of wonder, our pleasure, our pain, etc. When we are on earth it is encased in a body, which is a different substance (Substance 2). It has to be a different entity, because it can be observed with our physical senses. We can see and feel and taste it. We can study it under a microscope. It gets hurt or sick, and we watch it heal (or not heal). It is observable, in a real, quantifiable way. It can be categorized and labeled. It can (more or less) be understood.

So we start as Substance 1 and end as Substance 1 (if we do indeed end). We still have access to Substance 1 while we are encased in Substance 2 (our bodies), because we are always Substance 1, whether or not we are at the moment connected to Substance 2.

Of course, at any given moment we can understand, we are connected to Substance 2, because that's the only way we can understand or acknowledge or interpret or observe things at all. I have no proof that Substance 1 exists before/after/outside Substance 2 at all. Perhaps it doesn't. I like to think it does, but it hardly matters (to me) if it actually does or not. I would not act differently in this life if I knew for certain that my soul would or would not extend past by body's life, so it makes no difference.

The point is, that I am drawn to thinking of myself this way, for better or worse. It is so engrained in me to believe that there is some essence to me that is more than just the sum of my bodily parts that I have to think it is a belief I would hold dear regardless of whether or not I had been brought up Christian and taught to believe that we all have souls and which go to Heaven or Hell when our bodies die. I was drawn to color and art from a young age. I loved stories and reading. I have always been drawn to fantasy. I have always put more significance on my mind than my body. It didn't matter what was happening in "the real world" if I had another world I could escape to in my mind.

And I think that, is essentially, why I would really have to talk myself into monism. Because I like Substance 1 better; I could never discard it in favor of Substance 2. And it doesn't make sense to me believe there isn't a Substance 2 - indeed, I would be way too scared to pretend Substance 1 is the only substance. While I like Substance 1, I also often keep my distance from it. It's unreliable. It's mysterious. To believe only in Substance 1 (and thus ignore the "real" physical world) would be to lose all control, lose anything tangible to grab onto, and, essentially, to go insane.

So Substance 2 must exist - it is the rock in the flowing stream of Substance 1, the tangible, sturdy, steady thing to grab onto. And I want Substance 1 to exist - because it's the flowing stream, and more interesting. And so I am a dualist.

But I also call myself an "atheist."

Being an "atheist" doesn't mean I'm not spiritual, in my own way. It doesn't mean I don't like sitting around philosophizing. It doesn't mean I don't believe in something by faith alone. The "something" that I believe in through faith alone, however, is not capital-G God, nor any other god or gods of any organized religion on this planet. There is no Creator. There is no Destiny. There is the Human Experience, and the Soul, and the Collective Unconscious, or something along those lines - but I vacillate between whether or not I think this other Force, whatever it is, has any sort of semblance of control over me and my actions, or even any understanding of me, or anyone else, or itself. Perhaps it is just Nature, going through its cycles as it does; and I am just a part of it, a cog in its incognizant machine.

I even (as you can see with these last two blog posts), debate with myself on the issue of my dualism. Do I actually believe there are two substances - mind and body - or do I just really want there to be two substances, because it's a more interesting story, and one that I am immediately drawn to?

So I call myself an atheist because I do not align with any modern religion or its beliefs, and I do not one anyone to get the impression that I do, or that I could be persuaded to. Calling myself an agnostic, I think, is not strong enough to get this point across. But really I would identify myself more as an apatheist - because not only do I not believe in god, but it really doesn't matter to my daily life if god does or does not exist - or even if there are one or two categories of substances in the world.

From the Wikipedia article, Apatheism

I like thinking about such things in the abstract, but have no real motivation to come to any sort of concrete conclusion. I'm fine with sitting in the corner and imagining the world I want to imagine, with its mind and body separation. It suits me. It doesn't really matter if it's "real" or "true" or not, because it's true to me. And even if someone could prove to me that God exists (or doesn't exist), or that everything I hold dear about my "essence" is really just nothing more than neurons firing in my brain or the chemicals and hormones in my body fluctuating their levels to influence my emotions or mood - it wouldn't matter. I would still make art. I would still feel things. I would still write. I would still go on pretending that what is in my mind is important and real - because that's what makes me feel like me, and I think it's what makes me good at the art and writing I do.

I've rambled on about all this long enough. I'll end here with a favorite quote by J.K. Rowling:

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: Christian Privilege at Christmastime

I love the holiday season. I love the songs, the decorations, the baking, the gift buying, the gift wrapping, the gift receiving, the family togetherness - all of it. I've always loved it. I was born on December 20 and was brought home from the hospital on Christmas Eve. My parents brought me inside in my car carrier and put me right underneath the Christmas tree in the living room - their little Christmas present. I don't remember that, of course, but I like to imagine that it was a formative experience because I was enthralled by the twinkling lights and the love in the room.

Growing up, my parents were always careful to separate my birthday from Christmas so that my birthday wouldn't be overshadowed by the mammoth holiday. I got a birthday party separate from any Christmas parties planned, I got separate birthday and Christmas gifts. It was like a week of celebration - my birthday merging with all the holiday parties at school and the holiday traditions with my family. I absolutely loved it. I liked to pretend everyone was hanging up lights to celebrate my birthday with me.

This is still my favorite time of year - made even more celebratory since meeting my husband. His birthday is coincidentally the same day as mine (though a year earlier). And his family is Jewish, so he grew up celebrating Hanukkah. So now we get to share traditions for Hanukkah and Christmas, and stretch the holiday season out even longer.

I never thought much about Christian privilege growing up (why would I? I was Christian), but since stepping away from Christian beliefs and meeting my husband, I've become keenly aware of it.

For example - he teaches at a public high school here in Michigan, and a couple years ago expressed his feelings about the office's holiday display. There was a menorah to represent Hanukkah, a kinara to represent Kwanzaa, and even some written notices about cultural traditions of other religions, including some words about Islam, posted with sensitivity toward the sizable Muslim population at the school. But the majority of the display was a nativity scene for Christmas - and it was precisely this part of the display that bothered my husband. Hanukkah is not a particularly important holiday to the Jewish religion, and the menorah is just a candle holder, which is not in itself a particularly religious symbol. In fact, there is no Hanukkah equivalent to the Christian manager display that has a comparable "level of religiousness." Christmas is widely celebrated in the U.S. among Christians and non-Christians alike, and has many symbols associated with it that are less religious - wreaths, Christmas trees, poinsettias, Santa Claus, reindeer. And yet, the school chose the most religious aspect of Christmas and paired it with the practically secular menorah, kinara, and flyers.

It could be argued that it's not Christianity's fault that Hanukkah has no symbol that is particularly religious (although, let's be honest - if Jews have ever "toned down" their religious symbols to make them more generic and acceptable looking, it was because of persecution and genocide and diaspora, and Christianity is to blame for most of the instances of Jewish persecution, genocide, and diaspora throughout history). But even if Christianity had no influence on Judaism and how Hanukkah is celebrated, the office administrators that put together the display could have chosen more secular Christmas symbols. Including a nativity scene complete with angels and a baby Jesus and a praying Mary and Joseph was a clear choice, and one they could have opted not to make in an effort of religious sensitivity.

True, this was a display in the office, not in the lobby or the front lawn of the school; it's main purpose was probably similar to a worker decorating his or her cubicle with the items of their religion. Such displays are permitted (and should be) within our Constitution. But the display was also facing out, rather than in, and was clearly meant to be seen and appreciated by anyone coming through the office - administrators, teachers, students, and parents. The flyers that were printed up included a suggestion that visitors should "tell us about your religious beliefs!" - presumably so that the office employees could update the display if it was found lacking, for the benefit of everyone. It was hard to tell whether it was just an office employee decorating her workspace, or a decoration for the school, and thus seemingly endorsed by it. The school lobby, by the way, has the words "In God We Trust" engraved on the wall in big letters - so it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that the school might sponsor a display of religion.

A lot of schools - and other public buildings - do just that. City halls and police stations have giant life-size nativity scenes on their lawns, same as churches. It is precisely these displays of church on buildings that function for the state that upsets my husband - because we are supposed to have a separation of church and state in this country, yet instead often seem to have a state-sponsored religion (Christianity).

So my husband expressed his concerns on Facebook (probably not the best place to do so, in retrospect), and the result was that a bunch of other teachers and students and administrators jumped down his throat. Some cited the amount of time the office employees spent trying to make a nice display that was open to everyone's holidays (as if effort and good intentions were sufficient excuse). The flyers in particular were lauded as proof that the secretaries were trying to be as inclusive as possible. And yet, it is the flyers that (to me) most point out the Christian privilege on display. The secretaries had a nativity scene ready to go (whether it was the schools or was brought in from one of their homes is not really the point) - and they placed this nativity scene literally right next to a sign pointing out the secretaries' ignorance of "other" religions. If Christianity were not America's default religion, the secretaries wouldn't have to ask what other religious traditions there were this time of year, because they would already know those other traditions instead. Growing up Christian in America means that you can be ignorant of other traditions - because your traditions are the ones catered to. It might seem nice and tolerant and inclusive to ask other people to contribute their own religious beliefs to your display, but it also puts the onus on them to come forward and explain them to you - and after you've pointed out that their religion is "other," is "unknown," which really puts them on the spot.

As the only Jewish teacher in the school, my husband is often asked questions by his students when they're taking a Humanities class and learning about religions or when they're reading a book about the Holocaust in an English class. Sure, it's nice of them to "think of him," but it also requires of him to represent an entire religion/ethnicity. Black people are similarly asked to speak "on behalf of" all black people, or women to speak "on behalf of" all women. Like all black people or all women or all Jews are the same, and have the same opinions. My husband isn't even religiously Jewish anymore (like me, he has stepped away from the belief system he grew up in), and yet Humanities students come to him to ask about Judaism.

(On a similar note, the one black teacher at his school is often asked for help with discipline issues for black students - whether or not she actually knows the students personally. It is assumed that because she is black and the troublemaking kid is black, she will know what to do with them. It's absurd.)

But back to the office holiday display - the amount of backlash my husband received for airing his grievances was enormous. Some of his colleagues stopped talking to him. He felt ostracized. Yeah, he probably could have gone about it better - like talking to the office secretaries instead of posting something on Facebook. But it's like none of them even listened to what he was trying to say. They didn't bother to consider his viewpoint because they felt so personally victimized. (Never mind that seeing a nativity scene in his workplace kind of made him feel personally victimized in the first place, which is why he took to Facebook to complain.)

It's like the outrage over Starbucks' red cups this year. There is no "war on Christmas," guys. The fact that some people ASSUMED their favorite coffee chain would have decorations on its cups for the religious season that they personally celebrate in fact proves just the opposite. It was perfectly within the realm of possibility that there would be Christmas imagery; it was something those people were expecting, because their religion is so ubiquitous that they have seen their Christmas imagery depicted on the paper products of this and other companies before. This year, for whatever reason, their religion was not specifically pandered to (or not pandered to enough - because, let's face it, red is still a Christmas color, and other winter holidays from other religions do not use red as their symbolic color). Next year, perhaps Christianity will be pandered to again (or more obviously). But the chances of a different religion being pandered to are basically nil. It's Christianity or secularism in this country, and often a mix of the two. It is never any other religion. And even if it were secularism all the time (as, I would argue, it should be, given the wording of our Constitution), that would still not mean that Christianity was being "warred" upon. It would just mean that it was not specifically allowed to tout its privilege, or maybe even that (gasp!) some of its privileges were being taken away.

For true equality to be reached, some groups are going to have to lose their privilege. Losing privilege is NOT discrimination, though - the two are completely different. Losing privilege is like expecting you'll win the lottery, but then you don't actually win after all, and so you do not receive the money you were counting on. Discrimination is like having money that is rightfully yours  taken away from you, because somebody else decided it shouldn't be rightfully yours, or that they deserved your money more than you do, or simply because they wanted to be a bully or demonstrate their power or strength or cunning and they didn't care who they might hurt in the process.

Yeah, losing privilege can suck; not winning money you expected to win, that you perhaps needed to win (to continue the lifestyle you were accustomed to) is a major bummer. But it's not a personal attack, it's just an inconvenience - and it's only considered an "inconvenience" because it's something you were accustomed to that you are no longer receiving, not because it is actually necessary or prudent or even good for you.

It's hard to see your own privilege; this is true for any privileged group. But make no mistake - Christians (especially those belonging to a mainstream Protestant denomination) do currently have privilege in this country. This post is getting long enough, so I'll include my List of Christian Privilege in tomorrow's blog post. It will be a fitting list to consider on Christmas Eve.

As for me and the holidays - I think I'll always love this time of year. It's just too engrained in me to give up, and if it's something that makes me happy, why should I give it up anyway? I enjoy the Christmas season more or less as I always have - with family, with friends. I bake cookies, I wrap presents, I put up a Christmas tree. But I have sloughed off many of the more religious parts of Christmas over the years since I've stepped away from my Christian beliefs, as I once sloughed off believing in Santa Claus, or waking my parents up at six in the morning to run downstairs and open gifts. I do still like the religious music, and sing along when I hear one I particularly love. But it's the sentiment I'm attached to, not the specific words, or the specific message.

Even when I was a devout Christian, I didn't go around rubbing Christmas in other people's faces, though. (At least, I tried not to.) I was encouraged by some at my church to make a point of saying "Merry Christmas" - especially if a store employee wished me "Happy Holidays" when I was checking out with my Christmas purchases - but I don't remember too many times when I actually did that. Probably mainly because very few store employees wished me a "Happy Holidays" - they all just said "Merry Christmas" anyway, and so I had nothing to complain about. I had friends who did not celebrate Christmas because they subscribed to a different religion; it was more second nature to tell people at school "Happy Holidays" - or even simply, "Enjoy break!" or "I'll see you NEXT YEAR!" when it was time for the two weeks off school.

There are ways to celebrate your own religion, your holidays, your traditions without making other people feel bad for not having the same traditions as you do. Don't assume other people are celebrating what you're celebrating. It's not hard if you actually try. The real reason some Christians act as though everyone is celebrating Christmas is because they think everyone should be. 

I imagine a particularly obtuse Christian might say: "But I do want others to feel bad for not being Christian, because I want them to become Christian! I want us all to belong in one big Christian group together because I want us all to hear the truth, and believe in Jesus and go to Heaven! It's a noble cause, my alienation and discrimination and exertion of Christian privilege! And it's not like religion is gender or race - you can choose what religion you subscribe to, you can choose what to believe in! Anyone can - and should become Christian. It's not like I'm saying that I'm better than non-Christians naturally or biologically or indefinitely. I want equality, I want everyone to have the same privileges I have! How is that a bad thing??"

To which I would reply: We have freedom of choice in this country. As long as it does not infringe on other people's pursuits of happiness, we have the freedom to our own pursuit of happiness. Let other people make their own choices and celebrate what they want to celebrate - their celebrations in no way involve you or infringe upon your own celebrations. Your celebrations, on the other hand, do often infringe on other people's celebrations, because your celebrations have the power, have the privilege in this country. Do you really want someone to become a Christian just to belong - or do you want them to come because they want to be there and came willingly, without coercion? And wouldn't it make "the choice" to be Christian, to believe in Jesus, less significant if literally everyone made the same choice? How much of a choice would it be if it were mandatory, or nearly so?

Get off your fucking high horse and recognize that other people believe just as ardently in the tenants of their religion as you do in yours. They believe they are right; you believe you are right - and there is literally NO WAY to prove which one of you (if either of you) are right - at least no way to prove that on this planet, in this life. Why can't you enjoy your time with your family, and enjoy your holiday celebrations in the privacy of your home (as Jews and Muslims and Hindus, etc. do with their holidays)? Isn't that what the holiday is about anyway - the family traditions? You do yours, and let other people do theirs. They've been doing just that for generations in this country; why don't you repay the favor and give them the same courtesy?