Swimming the Sacred River

In general, Sacred River is not intended for intellectual meta-discussion of religious naturalism, but this is an interesting issue that is worth exploration. Naturalism, as a philosophical orientation, explicitly denies the existence of anything that is outside of nature, and at this point in our scientific understanding of the universe, that includes personal deities, non-corporeal intelligences, meta-terrestrial dimensions, and occult/New Age forces. At the same time, religious naturalism recognizes that Nature includes a large dose of mystery—while our store of reliable knowledge increases daily, there are questions for which we might never know the answers. For some people, the way of articulating this sense of mystery, and the awe and reverence that attends it, is to use “god-language”. The question is, how does such language fit within an orientation that does not recognize the objective existence of personal gods?

For the most part, this discussion takes place in the rarefied atmosphere of theology and philosophy journals. We can read about how God is used metaphorically to describe authenticity, freedom, process, unity, goodness, energy, connectedness, love, or the sacred object of worship. But there are several problems with this approach, the worst perhaps being the usage of a vague term to describe something that is already vague or intangible. Rather than bringing clarity, saying “God” further diffuses the object of consideration.

This is compounded by the fact that the vast majority of people in the world do not use God as a metaphor. In general use “God” is first and foremost a pronoun, a name for an objectively-existing Supreme Being. Second, it is a homonym for deity, of which many in human culture are not necessarily “Supreme” but nevertheless are superordinate to the normal order of physical reality. When a religious naturalist uses god-language, a general reader will likely not understand that it is metaphorical, thereby undermining one of the key elements of RN, namely that it rejects supernaturalism.

This is not to say that metaphor doesn’t have a place within religious naturalism. Sacred River actually makes this idea a core component of its approach. Perhaps the one thing that makes humans special is our use of symbol, which arguably underlies language, logic, mathematics, music, art, poetry, and even culture itself. It is important for religious naturalists to develop stories, icons, and experiences that can provide social cohesion, ethical illustrations, and opportunities for meaningful profundity (a sense of deep significance or transcendence usually involving a change of perspective different from ordinary states of awareness). This is how a religious movement is able to mature.

However, using god-language is neither necessary nor advantageous for our movement because, at its root, the concept of God is antithetical to naturalism. It is fair to say that we currently lack adequate language to describe the more sublime elements of the religious experience within a naturalistic orientation. But using God does not advance the development of such a language; rather, it keeps us stuck within a pre-scientific context. It is akin to using God to fill in the gaps of scientific knowledge, which is neither accurate nor useful in terms of promoting understanding.

Carl Sagan once said, “A religion old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the universe as revealed by modern science, might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths. Sooner or later, such a religion will emerge.” I believe that religious naturalism, or some variant, will be that religion. Like it or not, science and the concept of God, even as a symbol, are not compatible frames of reference. In the deepest parts of our minds, God is both a stand in for a lack of knowledge and a non-conscious elevation of our parents to the status of immortality and omnipotence. For us to mature as a naturalistic religious movement and also as a species, we must let go of God. It is not enough to transform him (and God is a “him”) to a metaphor, claiming that the supernatural elements have been banished. As long as God is used to describe the sublime within nature and ourselves, supernaturalism will survive, even if only in a silent form. We no longer need to anthropomorphize the universe.

Naturalism states that only the natural is real; that the universe as a whole lacks purpose and intelligence; that nothing exists, in principle, beyond the scope of scientific examination; and that all physical events are caused by other physical events in accordance with universal laws. Religious naturalism is a reverent orientation towards Nature that excludes supernaturalism; that responds to Nature with awe and wonder; that recognizes the mysteries inherent in existence; and ideally will develop a morality grounded in promoting human flourishing and ecological stewardship. The concept of God is not necessary and does not advance any of these principles, while it can be said to work against them. Yes, that includes the issue of mystery. Using God to explain mystery (such as why there is something rather than nothing) is generally just a way of trying to dispel mystery rather than accepting and abiding in it.

Letting go of God is necessary to fully embrace naturalism—which I write with a full understanding of how easy that is to say and how difficult it can be to accomplish. Rather than using a supernatural term to describe that which we see as sacred within Nature, let us instead consider those those things as sacred in themselves. That is what religious naturalism is all about, discarding the supernatural and exalting the natural. Instead of “Love = God = Divine”, religious naturalism says “Love = Divine”.

There are, of course, religious naturalists who do not have a problem with god-language, Dr. Goodenough being one of them. In no way is this essay an attempt to censure them. Neither am I calling for a “war” against believers in God (or those who use that term metaphorically), except perhaps in those cases where faith is used to justify hatred, suffering, discrimination, or willful ignorance. What I am attempting to do here is to persuade religious naturalists and those of like-mind to consider letting go of a word that muddies the waters, evokes supernaturalism, and inhibits the development of a naturalistic language of reverence. Chet Raymo said it best—When God is gone, everything is holy.

Generally I dislike receiving lists of advice, so I’m a little embarrassed to be offering one. I wrote this list in response to an email sent to me with a lot of (mostly Christian) suggestions that I didn’t particularly care for. Obviously this list only reflects my own personal values and preferences. Also, as far as I’m concerned, this is open source, so feel free to send any of it along. If you are so inspired, please feel free to add your own pearls of wisdom in the comments…

1) Develop mindful gratitude and express it often

2) Get enough sleep, eat well, and exercise regularly

3) Find beauty and joy in simple, every-day things

4) Practice courtesy, even in the face of rudeness

5) Read more

6) Make time for pleasures that enrich your life

7) Always be learning how to do something new

8] Don’t waste your time with people you don’t respect, but be willing to know people who seem different from you

9) Before passing judgment, remember that there is always more than meets the eye

10) Cultivate wonder and curiosity; be open to new knowledge but avoid credulousness

11) Look out for patterns that keep you stuck; growth requires going outside your comfort zone from time to time

12) Think for yourself; develop your ability to question and reason

13) Occasionally write down your life goals and best imagined future; research shows this is associated with increased health and well-being

14) It’s okay to get your needs met, but let go of any sense of entitlement; it’s healthier to think in terms of what you can offer rather than what you are owed

15) Be serious-minded but light-hearted; protect yourself from both bitterness and sanctimoniousness

16) Always be honest, loyal, and true to yourself and your word. Always.

17) Every now and then, reassess your own values, beliefs, and goals

18) Build the courage to face your fears and to take full responsibility for your life

19) Do your part to fulfill our role as stewards of the Earth

20) Make a difference—do what you can to reduce suffering and increase fairness, opportunity, prosperity, and freedom in the world

Ursula Goodenough has a wonderful essay up on the NPR website called, “Are You A Religious Naturalist Without Knowing It?” A short snippet:

…Nature is all that we know there to be; its source is a mystery; its dynamics generate emergent phenomena of increasing complexity. Full stop. How might one find Purpose and Value in such a perspective?

There are many responses, but my own is to see purpose and valuation in every biological trait, every adaptation, every humming bird dipping into a flower with its exquisitely shaped beak. Traits are about something, for something. They have been evaluated and selected in their ecological contexts. Therefore, for me, the flourishing and continuation of life has deep intrinsic Value and Purpose.

The spiritual entails inward responses to one’s core narrative, and here the menu is rich. Nature elicits both awe and humility, as lifted up beautifully by Marcelo; there’s the gratitude and astonishment of being alive at all; there’s reverence for nature’s outrageous beauty and complexity; there’s the joy of participation.

The article is very worth reading; it is not long but it packs a punch. It concisely lays out the core positions of religious naturalism. Except the end—in the last paragraph she writes:

So what’s the difference between a naturalist and a religious naturalist? Both take nature seriously; both adopt Everybody’s Story as their core narrative. And then, in the words of Loyal Rue, the religious naturalist also takes nature to heart. Taking something to heart means that your heart can be broken: you can experience moral outrage when that which is revered is desecrated.

To me, this is not an adequate answer. I think that non-religious people can be heartbroken by the desecration of nature. As it happens, I have written about this very issue, what it means to be a naturalist of a religious kind.

How can naturalism—a perspective that ignores the supernatural—be religious? It requires a different definition of religion, one based on function and experience rather than on traditional faith-based assertions. Loyal Rue (Pulitzer Prize winning author and professor of religion and philosophy) proposes that religion is, at the core, about a relationship with a central myth or story…In discussing religious naturalism specifically, Rue says that as “the gap between the natural and the sacred narrows—as God is naturalized and Nature is divinized…the central core of religious naturalism becomes clear: Nature is the sacred object of humanity’s ultimate concern.” Theologian Roger Gillette offers this: “Religious naturalism is a religion in that it is a system of belief and practice that demands and facilitates one’s intellectual and emotional reconnection with one’s self, one’s family, one’s local and global community and ecosystem, and the universe of which the global ecosystem is a part.”

Those who offer commentary on religious naturalism largely agree that the movement has a long way to go in terms of developing an established set of spiritual practices or traditions. Such practices can be placed into four major categories: ritual, celebration, mindfulness, and works. Religious naturalism has, of itself, nothing to offer in the first two categories, except perhaps when attached to an existing institution, such as the Unitarian Universalist church or a Reconstructionist Jewish community. This does not mean, of course, that individual adherents cannot create or transform religious rituals and celebrations to fit within a naturalistic frame; as they do, perhaps they will spread into more general use.

The third category—mindfulness—does not require any kind of institutional structure. Mindfulness encompasses a range of experiences, such as contemplation, reflection, meditation, and non-petitionary prayer; it is through such activities that the religious naturalist can experience the awe, wonder, inspiration, serenity, and reverence that nature and raw existence can evoke. Through certain mindfulness practices, even the most dedicated materialist can experience a mystical sense of union with everything—of this, Chet Raymo writes, “Every object of the natural world bears within itself a mostly hidden relationship to every other object. In attending prayerfully to these webs of relationship we integrate ourselves more fully into the fabric of the universe.” Naturalistic philosopher Andre Comte-Sponville speaks of the oceanic feeling of unity—”When you feel at one with the All, you need nothing more. Why would you need a God? The universe suffices. Why would you need a church? The world suffices. Why would you need faith? Experience suffices.”

Many religious naturalists have no calling for such mystical experiences and instead choose to express their spirituality through works. Since religious naturalism does not include the idea of an afterlife or alternate planes of being, the focus shifts from hope or faith to action. As with rituals and celebrations, there is no established set of proper works, nor should there be. At Sacred River, we have offered a template for works called the Spiritual Streams—being Self, Relational, Work (labor), Epicurean, Intellectual, Sociocultural, and Natural (environmental)—designed to help people determine for themselves where they can best spend their time and resources. But wherever one finds inspiration, the religious aim is to act with intention towards fulfilling one’s potential as an individual and as an integrated member of humankind and the planet.

And also:

Religion arguably exists in order to address certain human needs, such as assuaging existential anxiety, maintaining a sense of purpose and agency, developing an understanding of the workings of the world, and feeling connected to others. At another level, it is possible to surmise that people often desire what can be called a religious experience, here defined as a profound and meaningful shift in perspective involving an embodied sensation and a resultant interpretation that is explicitly religious in nature. Stated more simply, religion can potentially provide a sense of meaningful profundity, a sense of deep significance and/or transcendence from normal states of being, involving a connection with, experience of, or insight into a perspective of reality that is normally outside of everyday awareness.

Religious Naturalism states that all of these needs, desires, and experiences can be had without the need for a belief in the supernatural. Nature, as well as we understand it, is fully worthy of awe, gratitude, and reverence. But more than that, we maintain that nature is all that is real. In other words, we are merely acknowledging that which is, without needing more. Part of this recognition involves our own place within the biospheric narrative, our emerging understanding of human nature and the infinite variety of potential human activity within the world.

Naturalism alone is a philosophical position; religious naturalism offers a meaningful connection to Nature. It allows me to integrate my understanding of Nature into my life in a way that is emotionally salient, even profound—it is not just an intellectual pursuit, it becomes ingrained into the architecture of my life and sense of self. Whether through celebration, ritual, mindfulness, or works, religious naturalism seeks an ongoing experience of Nature that is meaningful, fulfilling, and joyous.

Freud famously hypothesized that God is little more than a projected father figure. This idea was given within the context of his psychosexual theories, which have largely been outmoded as the science of psychology has progressed. Nevertheless, Freud was probably on to something in this case.

As children, our parents are, in essence, gods to us. They are not only all powerful, but are possessed of incomprehensible knowledge and mysterious abilities; they also regularly transport us to strange new places. It is not such a far leap to suggest that a belief in a god allows us to keep a sense of the awe and safety that we are designed to feel when we are kids. There is some part of us—even as mature, educated adults—that craves a relationship with a larger-than-life being that can handle the chaos, danger, and mystery of life, that we can depend on, that will love us without limit.

It is possible that this effect goes beyond a belief in a god. It might also lead to magical thinking, even absent of any belief in a supreme being. This kind of thinking is typified by New Age practices, such as astrology, tarot cards, and candle spells. Occult-style systems can be understood as a transference of magic from the parent to the child. No longer content to leave power in the hands of humanized parents, nor to elevate it to an invisible deity, magical-thinking adults appropriate the flame of godhood for themselves. The illusion is essentially the same as that of the mainline theist, that mysterious, supernatural forces can be used to understand and effect change within the material world.

Naturalism is the only orientation that truly bucks the system—it states that there are no mysterious powers, no access to special knowledge, and no non-material parts of reality. This perspective is threatening to believers of both theistic and occult stripes, not only because humans are designed to have durable worldviews and group affiliations, but because naturalism “takes away” the sense of control and specialness that comes with supernaturalism.

That is the cost of maturity: giving up fantastical thinking. But that doesn’t mean that we have to give up any of the awe and wonder or even reverence! True, we have to learn how to cope with a lack of afterlife and control over the chaos inherent in life, but what we gain is the ability to live in reality and to bask in the majesty of Nature on its own terms. We can make choices and develop understanding grounded in observation and reason rather than scripture or divination. Instead of prayer or magic, we can adopt pragmatic action for when we wish to affect change.

There is much discussion of late about the nature and source of religion. Even if true, it seems highly unlikely that the hypothesis presented in this essay is the only element behind supernaturalism. More likely, there are numerous components, including potent sociocultural influences. It is important that social scientists continue to study religion—the more we understand that supernaturalism is a product of human thinking, the more we can transfer it’s positive elements—such as reverence, compassion, and profundity—to the actual source of reality, the natural world.

I know it’s corny, but I get a lump in my throat when I watch this video.

PS. If you live in Massachusetts you can help keep the world awesome by voting for Martha Coakley today.

The earthquake in Haiti has left the country in ruins and resulted in untold death and misery. Now is the time to step up and help. As President Bill Clinton said the other day, the single best way to assist is with cash. To that end, please consider one of the following options:

* Text “HAITI” to 90999 to donate $10 instantly to Red Cross
* UUSC/UUA Joint Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund
* Doctors Without Borders
* ActionAid International

Religious Naturalism is a positive worldview that finds wonder in a universe without any need for the supernatural. Nature is astounding and life is precious. What more is needed?

Nature is astounding exactly because it is self-sufficient; a creator god or supernatural manager takes away from the majesty of nature. And since consciousness almost certainly ends with brain death, the short time we have here makes life valuable beyond measure. It is indescribably unjust and tragic for any person to experience their time in poverty, ignorance, or misery. This calls us to improve our condition, to challenge ourselves and to help make a world where every person in every culture can thrive.

Greg Epstein, the humanist chaplain at Harvard University, has recently promoted HumanLight Day, a humanist replacement for Christmas. On the HumanLight website, they say:

HumanLight illuminates Humanism’s positive secular vision. In Western societies, late December is a season of good cheer and a time for gatherings of friends and families. During the winter holiday season, where the word “holiday” has taken on a more secular meaning, many events are observed. This tradition of celebrations, however, is grounded in supernatural religious beliefs that many people in modern society cannot accept. HumanLight presents an alternative reason to celebrate: a Humanist’s vision of a good future. It is a future in which all people can identify with each other, behave with the highest moral standards, and work together toward a happy, just and peaceful world.

While I strongly endorse the idea behind this, I don’t like the name very much. In part, I think that this time of year extends beyond humanity, which is also about the cycle of the seasons and all that that implies. I do like the word “Light”, which is certainly appropriate to the holiday spirit. But if I were to make a suggestion, I would call it Winterlight Day.

This topic is coming a bit late, but perhaps we can mull it over and see if the idea survives until next year.

And so, a belated Happy Winterlight to everyone! We at Sacred River hope that it was filled with warmth, joy, and togetherness.

It is time to hear some different voices at Sacred River. You are invited to submit an essay regarding the following topic:

“Inspiration and the Natural World”

You are free to write a personal narrative, an exploration into American Transcendentalism, a treatise on physics, a photo essay, or pure fiction; you are only limited by your imagination. There is no length requirement.

The due date is November the 6th.

We will publish what we consider to be the best entries, but there is no maximum—considering how talented naturalists tend to be, we might end up publishing all of them! So let your voice be heard—inspire us!

Send your essay to submissions@sacredriver.org

A wonderful “song” using bits from Carl Sagan’s Cosmos, featuring an appearance by Stephen Hawking. It is a lovely example of the awe, curiosity, and joy that nature can inspire.

The following comment was written in response to a theist named Bridget from the last Dawkins post [here is her original comment]. I wanted to present this on its own page since I think it begins to address some core issues in Sacred River.

Where does the evil and good come from?

“Evil” and “Good” aren’t substances or states, but moral judgments on behaviors and ideas. All judgments are products of the human mind grounded in the evolutionary necessity of primates to live together in a reasonably harmonious way. We are beginning to find the basic building blocks of human ethics, which are related to such issues as fairness, resource/mate protection, incest avoidance, and reciprocal altruism (to name a few).

As in language, the moral building blocks have evolved into complex structures that are now largely culture-based. These structures form in every group (churches, schools, workplaces, clubs, and even whole cities and nations), and the majority of them are implicit, meaning they are unspoken mandates and rules of thumb that guide how group members behave and interact. When someone violates a rule, everyone knows it, even when that rule isn’t written down. Humans are simply wired this way.

Although the underlying purpose of morality is logical—the creation of social rules that allow humans to live together in groups—individual morals or moral sets are not always rational or even beneficial. At one time, for example, slavery was considered perfectly acceptable by many Americans and was even justified with the Bible. Many people would now consider slavery to be an unambiguous evil.

This is why there is a movement to push morals into a principle-based system rather than attempting a set of absolute rules. For example, increasing fairness and decreasing suffering are “good” principles, but what those look like will change along with a changing society, just as the acceptability of slavery changed with the Civil War. This is but one benefit of a non-theistic perspective—we can approach goodness from a reasonable and compassionate place rather than by attempting to fulfill rigid decrees, regardless of their relevance or logic.

Where does the “self” come from? And please don’t say the self is a set of neuronal connections…that is ridiculous and has not been proven.

The experience of self does indeed stem from complex neural nets in the brain, although the total self certainly includes the whole body. This might seem ridiculous to you, but there is a great deal of empirical evidence for it (and no evidence to the contrary). True, we learn more about the creation of self all the time as we learn more about the brain, but it isn’t the mystery you are making it out to be.

What we call the self is constructed from many psycho-neurological mechanisms, including temperament, emotions, personality (a la the Big Five), subjective perception and awareness, motivations and bodily needs, working memory and long-term memory, worldview and heuristic sets (e.g. social roles), and what you would call thinking. The self is an emergent phenomena that arises from the integration of all these functions, each of which are borne in the brain and derive from a combination of genetics and experience, and shifts according to environmental priming (a great example of this is an experiment with Chinese-Americans: one group was shown American symbols and the other Chinese symbols: each group then interpreted a single image, with the first group preferring a Western concept of individualism, with the other preferring an Eastern communal perspective. So based on how they were primed, different “selves” came to the fore).

To learn more, I strongly recommend “The Developing Mind” by Dan Siegel.

I’m afraid you might be falling for what our ancient ancestors fell for: the assumption that anything we don’t fully understand in nature must be due to a supernatural agent. It’s as if to say that if something in nature is amazing and beyond our comprehension, it couldn’t have “just happened”. But why not? There is no reason to think that anything in nature required an external agent, and the more we learn about the universe, the more we must conclude that indeed no agent could have caused any of it. Nature is self-sufficient; that is part of its majesty.

The abundance of even non-religious conspiracy theories is yet one more reason to challenge faith-based thinking. But it isn’t all roses…

Pascal’s Wager essentially states that it makes the most sense to have faith in the Biblical God because if he is real then a believer will earn entry into Heaven while a nonbeliever will suffer for eternity in Hell, whereas if God is not real, both lose nothing (unless to say the believer loses his sense of reason, which seems a fair stake for the chance of eternal bliss). The matrix looks like this:

Pascal’s Wager is frequently offered by modern Christians as justification for faith, even though Pascal himself said that the wager is only enough to consider finding faith. Nevertheless, they will say,  “You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain…and if you’re wrong, then Hell awaits you!” There are, of course, many logical shortcomings in this wager. For example, it doesn’t include the possibility that:

* The Christian god isn’t the correct deity
* God’s judgment is arbitrary
* God might also reward honest unbelief or punish dishonest belief
* Belief isn’t a necessary or adequate criteria for entry into Heaven

So, let’s take these issues into consideration in the following table, assuming the religion is Christianity with a “good” non-believer and an undefined believer:

When we add these choices, then the best choice is to be a good non-believer, because she has the best possible outcome—she gets both reason and Heaven if God is real and rewards those who act good. Likewise, in this choice and the choice where God is not real, the non-believer gets to have a fulfilling life of doing good deeds, without any unnecessary emotional, physical, or material sacrifices in the name of faith.

If the believer is good, then he has two extra chances to get to Heaven, but no one can know for certain what qualifies as “good enough”. The undefined believer might be “good enough” in choice #3, but has nevertheless made unnecessary sacrifices that the non-believer did not make. If God is not the Christian god, then there is equal risk of the unknown, making a rational and good life that much more worthwhile. If God is not real, then the believer does not have zero loss: he has, as Dawkins’ writes, squandered his “precious time on worshiping him, sacrificing to him, fighting and dying for him, etc.” And Hell becomes less one-sided, since the believer might get there if he is not adequately good (e.g. the mass murderer who repents in the gas chamber).

On top of all this, we then need to take into account the likelihood of God’s existence. There are already many arguments out there about this, but I will keep it at this: God isn’t necessary. God is not necessary to explain the origin of the universe, universal laws and processes, or how we humans came to be. There is no question in science that is best answered with “God”. This doesn’t prove his non-existence, but it does make it very, very unlikely, especially when we consider the countless number of gods humans have created and the complete lack of observable evidence for any of them. Virtually every universal theory that has arisen from religion has been shown to be wrong; why not just admit the concept of supernatural dualism is wrong altogether? With this in mind, we have to put the choices on a scale, with the existence of God being very unlikely and the non-existence of god being very likely.

The fundamental problem with all of this—as has been pointed out by non-theists many times before—is that one cannot be threatened into genuine belief. Faith requires that I honestly think that something is true. Any fear of being wrong does not, in itself, provide evidence that something is real.

And finally, I present my own Naturalist Wager:

If there is a creator God, then he created the universe and the world and humans. He also created your brain that is able to observe and reason and feel compassion. Looking at and learning about His creation using direct observation and empirically-based reason would honor His gifts, while making the world a better place for every human would honor the heart He gave you. If a loving creator God is real, it is reasonable to believe that He will reward you for your faith in Him and for the use of the reason and compassion He gave you. If God is not real, then you will have made excellent use of your life by fulfilling your ability to learn about and find wonder in the natural world and by making life a bit more worth living for those who remain.

In his latest book, The God Delusion, Richard Dawkins presents his own Alternative Ten Commandments. I enjoyed the list so much I wanted to share it here. [Edit: it has been pointed out that this list was not written by Dawkins, but only offered in his book. Whoever wrote it, I think it is a great list of principles. EDIT #2: It appears that the original list can be found here, written by one "Ebonmuse" who authors the site Daylight Atheism.]

1. Do not do to others what you would not want them to do to you

2. In all things, strive to cause no harm

3. Treat your fellow human beings, your fellow living things, and the world in general with love, honesty, faithfulness and respect.

4. Do not overlook evil or shrink from administering justice, but always be ready to forgive wrongdoing freely admitted and honestly regretted.

5. Live life with a sense of joy and wonder

6. Always seek to be learning something new

7. Test all things; always check your ideas against the facts, and be ready to discard even a cherished belief if it does not conform to them.

8. Never seek to censor or cut yourself off from dissent; always respect the right of others to disagree with you.

9. Form independent opinions on the basis of your own reason and experience; do not allow yourself to be led blindly by others.

10. Question everything

There are already plenty of good overviews of religious naturalism, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have one more. It certainly doesn’t stack up to the work of Jerome Stone [PDF], and I’ll probably update it over time, but I think it’s healthy to have multiple viewpoints that address a core set of ideas. Of course, I am no expert on religious naturalism, so I hope I can be forgiven a certain lack of unique insight or academic sophistication. For me, however, it is exactly this kind of exercise that helps develop a clear articulation of values and beliefs, an exercise that I consider to be central to my own personal progress. And you, dear reader, are naturally invited to comment and make suggestions.

It is wonderful to see articles and essays explaining the basics of science, especially in reference to religion and superstition. This one, titled “I Want to Believe: What Skepticism Reveals about Science“, is written by Michael Shermer and appears in the latest issue of Scientific American. You are encouraged to go read the whole thing.

Shermer writes:

What I want to believe based on emotions and what I should believe based on evidence does not always coincide… I conclude that I’m a skeptic not because I do not want to believe but because I want to know. I believe that the truth is out there. But how can we tell the difference between what we would like to be true and what is actually true? The answer is science.

Science is a method, not a set of dogmatic beliefs. As Shermer explains, “Science begins with the null hypothesis, which assumes that the claim under investigation is not true until demonstrated otherwise. [...] The null hypothesis means that the burden of proof is on the person asserting a positive claim, not on the skeptics to disprove it.” Of course, as he points out above, many people choose to see evidence where none exist because they have an emotional drive to believe. Or they wedge the supernatural into scientific gaps, assuming that “if science cannot explain X, then [the supernatural] explanation for X is necessarily true.”

This is where the understanding of science gets a little murky. Shermer continues:

To be fair, not all claims are subject to laboratory experiments and statistical tests. Many historical and inferential sciences require nuanced analyses of data and a convergence of evidence from multiple lines of inquiry that point to an unmistakable conclusion. Just as detectives employ the convergence of evidence technique to deduce who most likely committed a crime, scientists employ the method to determine the likeliest explanation for a particular phenomenon. Cosmologists reconstruct the history of the universe by integrating data from cosmology, astronomy, astrophysics, spectroscopy, general relativity and quantum mechanics. [...] Once an inferential or historical science is well established through the accumulation of positive evidence, however, it is just as sound as a laboratory or experimental science.

This is why the Theory of Evolution is so compelling…although we cannot observe all the mechanics of evolution happening in real time, the mountain of positive, harmonized evidence over multiple domains of study allows for a high degree of confidence, especially since the theory allows for testable predictions. And yet, the null hypothesis is still out there, waiting…the moment we find a reliable fossil of a dinosaur with the remains of a homo sapiens in its belly, science will admit that it’s time to go back to the drawing board. But—and this is where many theists get lost—it is not up to science to disprove that that fossil exists, or that God exists in our knowledge gaps, or that invisible pink unicorns roam the forests. Until positive evidence is given, there is no reason, other than emotional desire, to consider them to be true.

Shermer sums it up nicely:

Which one you choose depends on your tolerance for ambiguity and how much you want to believe. For me, I remain in sublime awe of the great Unknown.

This Discover essay by Sean Carroll is a brief yet fantastic introduction to the basics of science and its relationship with religion. Here is one of the best definitions of science I have ever read:

Science constructs theories, and then compares them to empirically-collected data, and decides which theories provide better fits to the data. The definition of “better” is notoriously slippery in this case, but one thing is clear: if two theories make the same kinds of predictions for observable phenomena, but one is much simpler, we’re always going to prefer the simpler one. The definition of theory is also occasionally troublesome, but the humble language shouldn’t obscure the potential reach of the idea: whether we call them theories, models, hypotheses, or what have you, science passes judgment on ideas about how the world works.

He also sums up beautifully the reason so many scientists are non-theistic (see this study):

There’s no obstacle in principle to imagining that the normal progress of science could one day conclude that the invocation of a supernatural component was the best way of understanding the universe. Indeed, this scenario is basically the hope of most proponents of Intelligent Design. The point is not that this couldn’t possibly happen — it’s that it hasn’t happened in our actual world. In the real world, by far the most compelling theoretical framework consistent with the data is one in which everything that happens is perfectly accounted for by natural phenomena.

I would add that the more we do find out about the workings of the universe and the gaps in our knowledge shrink, the less likely it becomes that supernatural forces will be found to play a role. Ultimately, ideas like god, spirits, and occult forces simply aren’t very useful in helping us understand how the world actually works.

As a matter of  speculation, I posit that as science continues to naturalize the universe, many people more firmly cling to faith because of two things: anxiety and identity. (I’ll talk about the first for now, saving the latter for another post). The existence of a beneficent god and the promise of eternal life are powerful balms to existential angst. While it is easy to throw snark at beliefs in the supernatural, we would do well to recognize the very real anxiety that being alive entails. If people have been raised with faith as a way of coping with it, it is unreasonable to expect people to simply give that up.

Here is my wheelchair analogy (and please know that I have nothing but respect for our wheelchair-bound brothers and sisters): take a hypothetical group of people who were raised in wheelchairs from the day they are born. There is nothing inherently wrong with their legs, but this group believed it best to get around via wheelchair; they simply stopped questioning the practice and relied upon the Wheelchair Scripture to justify and guide them. By a certain age, the idea of not being in a wheelchair becomes a frightening thought…walking, running, and dancing seem intolerably difficult and dangerous. Eventually, their legs become atrophied and it would take a great deal of effort even to stand upright; considering the (apparent) comfort and safety of the wheelchair, learning to walk appears ludicrous and incomprehensible.

Non-theists have learned to “walk” and often look at the “Wheelchairists” with bewilderment…”Why can’t they they just get up on their feet like we do? Look, it’s great to walk and run and dance!” But looking at the world without the existence of their supernatural models is anxiety-provoking, and their innate ability to see nature alone with wonder and gratitude has been atrophied. Science is, in essence, killing their all-powerful Caretaker and taking away their eternity of bliss. While it is important to challenge those beliefs, it is equally important to have compassion for the anxiety that provokes.

In their desperation to hold on to their wheelchairs, many theists refuse to understand the nature of science. This is why pieces by Sean are so important, because they give non-theists a way of explaining science using relatively accessible language. But more than that, being able to talk about the magnificence of nature as informed by science can act as “walking lessons”, at least for those who would like to get out of the chair but can’t get past the fear of the loss of the support.

Albert Einstein once said, “Religion is concerned with man’s attitude toward nature at large, with the establishing of ideals for the individual and communal life, and with mutual human relationship.” To this I would only add that religion is also concerned with promoting the experience of transcendence. These four things—attitudes, ideals, relationships, and transcendence—are, put together, best served in a religious context. Of course, it is really the last item that tips the scale towards religion; exploring things like science or philosophy might inspire fascination, curiosity, and thought, but only for a tiny few might they lead to a transcendent state of mind.

This is a main reason why religion exists: many people have a strong drive towards transcendence. Song, dance, chanting, meditation, ritual, and other activities continue to be life-enhancing for many people, even when they do not contain an ounce of supernaturalism. The experience of stepping out of one’s “mundane”, every-day state of mind is key to what we call meaningful profundity, being the sense of deep significance and connectivity which lies at the heart of religious experience.

The movement known as Religious Naturalism has yet to move substantially beyond theory into practice, although it has started to establish the attitudes and ideals that Einstein described. Sacred River, of course, has its own outline for these things, including the Spiritual Streams and the Four Virtues, as well as our understanding of progressivism and the utility of allegoricalism. But we are far from having an established set of practices. This will, hopefully, happen organically over time.

As a general point of observation, it is past time for mainstream religion to stop offering a few things that are not on Albert’s list, especially those things related to explaining phenomena. Religion has a terrible track record of providing accurate descriptions of the material universe and its multitude of processes. Some of the worst abuses of modern religion, such as campaigns against birth control or gay marriage, are often predicated on factually false models of reality. Worse, religion tends to offer what it cannot possibly deliver on, whether it be a miraculous cure for disease, an escape from poverty, or even a never-ending life of eternal bliss. People have a natural need for a sense of control and comfort—after all, life is difficult and often unfair, painful and confusing. Many religions take advantage of this by soothing the needy with fantasies, resulting in an overall decreased ability for people to think critically, to face the natural world on its own terms, and to cope effectively with the existential angst inherent in human life. That nearly half of American adults believe the Earth is only 6000 years old is indicative of the profoundly toxic effects of deistic religion’s efforts to provide causal accounts of the natural world.

In light of this, Sacred River takes the position that the Religious Naturalist movement has several ethical obligations:
1) to advocate for science as being the most reliable way of knowing about the world,
2) to increase fairness, economic opportunity, knowledge, and well-being (both personal and ecological), and
3) to promote naturalistic means for people to cope with the inescapable agonies of life.

I hope that this list might lead to a wider discussion about Religious Naturalism and the obligations implied by our shared worldview. After all, Einstein said that religion is, in part, about ideals. Perhaps it is not too far-fetched to hope that we might aspire towards an ever-more courageous, integral, beneficent, and open society grounded in a healthy combination of scientific understanding and transcendent inspiration.

The following talk by author Jennifer Michael Hecht is highly recommended. My own comments follow below…

Jennifer Michael Hecht: The Triumph of Poetic Atheism from Ethical Culture Society Bergen on Vimeo.

Hecht brings up many wonderful points in her brief talk. A key point that is certainly relevant to Sacred River is the idea that atheism doesn’t have to be antagonistic towards the idea of religion/spirituality. No doubt many visitors here are familiar with thinkers such as Dawkins and Hitchens who are downright militant towards religion, and it is no surprise that they have become the public banners for non-theism. Although I myself agree with 90% of what they have to say, that 10% difference is rather critical, and it seems that Ms. Hecht is of like mind.

Specifically, I agree with her that there is a place for communal and personal ritual in our lives and that it is beneficial to seek out transcendent states, two things that historically fall under the provence of religion. I also agree that there is no need for gods or supernaturalism to have them. Hecht is one of those who believe that life can be fulfilling and wondrous without the need for the metaphysical, even while looking towards structures and models that we call religious.

Something that Sacred River hasn’t yet delved into is the subject of death, which Hecht rightfully suggests is a key component of religion. As she says, millions of people go to a building once a week to stare at an image of a dead guy. While Sacred River will not adopt the morbid elements of resurrection worship, it is important to address the meaning and import of death, to allow our knowledge of human mortality to make our lives richer and brighter.

We stand with those who say that non-theism can be much more than a movement of NO. Religious naturalism is one promising manifestation of that notion. While we at Sacred River explicitly reject supernaturalism of any kind, we also embrace human excellence, beauty and imperfection, the majesty of Nature, the challenges and comforts of intentional community, and our ability to transcend the everyday and see ourselves as part of the sacred web of being. The universe is so stupendously complex and amazing that—even as science offers the best way to comprehend it—it requires art, poetry, and music to even begin to capture our experience of it. And is this not one of key elements of any religion, to provide a system for transmitting an understanding of reality and what it means to be a living part of the world? At one time (and, alas, for many people still), God (and his supporting cast) was the best possible model for all we didn’t grasp; now it is time for new models that reflect the grandeur, terror, and ecstasy that is life.

It has a been a number of weeks since Sacred River has seen a new post and for that I apologize. Alas, life got in the way. Fortunately, it has all been good changes, but they have nevertheless left little time for writing essays.

But that does make me think of something to mention. This is more of an invitation to ponder rather than a full examination, but that itself makes the topic relevant. One of the core themes of Sacred River is the notion that spirituality is not a distinct branch of living, such as family or education, but is infused into all parts of life. From this perspective, spirituality is an approach or orientation towards living, informing everything we do. Yes, there are times we can set aside for specifically religious activity, but those events should ideally enrich or expand upon one’s everyday spiritual self.

I mention this because my own life has been filled lately with the pragmatic and common—travel, work, school, relationship, home. If I were to list out everything I’ve been doing the last few weeks nothing really stands out as exceptional or unusual, much less spiritually transcendent. While transcendence is a perfectly acceptable spiritual goal, it is not one of our key aims, which include meaning, fulfillment, and joy. Part of what I’ve been trying to do recently is to take time each day to examine all the things I’m doing and to put them into perspective. By that, I mean I try to see things holistically, to see all these mundane activities as parts of a larger and far more magnificent whole. In doing so, I’m reminded of my place within the order of things and of the splendor that is ordinary life.

There are times when we need to disrupt, to challenge, and to grow. There are also times to celebrate and bask in the joy of living. And yet in other times, it is all we can do just to cope and keep our heads above water. How we approach all of these times determines to a very large degree what our life ends up meaning and how we perceive it. A significant part of spirituality involves this very question of how we approach things like disruption, growth, celebration, relaxation, and coping. Frankly, I have nothing very wise to say about what such an approach should be—that is ultimately up to each person to decide based upon their own genuine sense of self. But at the very least I can remind you that we have choices about such things. And that we have such choices at all is what makes us such astounding, miraculous creatures.