The many faces of Christianity
When I was a kid, I was always curious about why there were so many different kinds of Christian churches in America: Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Unitarian, Congregational, Baptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Church of Christ, United Church of Christ, Reformed Church of Christ, Mormon, Quaker, Shaker, Greek Othodox, Russian Orthodox, Christian Science…the list seemed endless. It seemed like there were more different versions of Christianity in America than there were non-Christian religions around the rest of the world (Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Bahai, Shinto, Confucianism, etc.). Later, I learned that those other religions also had many different versions (Orthodox Judiasm, Ultra-orthodox Judiasm, Hasidic Judiasm, Reformed Judiasm, Sunni Muslim, Shia Muslim, etc.), so Christianity is not unique in that respect.
Meanwhile, Christians were fond of telling me that the Bible was written by God and, thus, was both perfect and complete. Naturally, this made no sense to me given the cornucopia of churches. If the Bible was perfect and complete, then why didn’t all Christians understand it the same way? Didn’t God know how to write clearly? More importantly, why were there so many different kinds of churches and what were their actual differences? To my immense frustration, churches of different denominations didn’t have signs out front explaining how they differed from the other churches down the street.
Only recently have I learned some answers to these questions. First, it turns out that the number of different versions of Christianity and other religions that I can name are only the tip of an enormous iceberg. According to the “Ontario Consultants for Religious Tolerance” website (http://www.religioustolerance.org/reltrue.htm), there are more than 10,000 distinct religions on our planet, each one claiming to be “the one true religion.”
Second, it turns out the many versions of Christianity differ in more ways than I could ever imagine — some seemingly trivial and some seemingly central to the notion of what it means to be a Christian. For example, seemingly important differences relate to things such as communion, confession, baptism, free will, hell, predestination, marriage, women, sexuality, abortion, contraception, etc.; while seemingly trivial differences include questions about whether or not music is an allowable form of public worship, and whether or not the name of the church building can include the name of the town or community in which it is located. Turns out, Christians disagree about almost everything related to Christianity. Other religions appear to have similar problems.
Third, it also turns out many of the biggest divisions in Christianity derive not from theological differences (which is what I would have expected), but from struggles over *political* power, usually involving one group of “Christians” deliberately persecuting another. Makes me wonder not only how “perfect and complete” the Bible is (that it could foster such infighting), but also to what extent these warring “Christians” have actually read their holy book.
Fourth, speaking of the Bible, it turns out there are many different versions of that as well: King James, New King James, New International, English Standard, American Standard, New Life, etc. And these are just the English versions — there are versions in other languages, too, sometimes even multiple versions. Seems strange to me that a “perfect and complete” book would exhibit so much variety. Then again, maybe not, given that the earliest known versions of the Bible were written in Old Aramaic, a language that went extinct almost two thousand years ago. No wonder Christians disagree about which translation is the right one.
Fifth, not only are there many different versions of the Bible, but it turns out one reason why Christianity (as well as the world’s other major religions) has so many followers is that its holy book can be interpreted in many different, even self-contradictory, ways. That’s why it appeals to so many different people. Thus, regardless of whether you support a woman’s right to choose, or want to stone to death women who have abortions, there is a branch of Christianity for you. Indeed, there is undoubtedly a direct correlation between the number of followers a religion has and the number of self-contradictory ways its holy book can be interpreted. In other words, the more powerful and influential a religion is, the more likely it is to be self-contradictory.
So, what is the point of this essay? It is to remind you (regardless of your religion) of two things: first, that you are almost certainly wrong if you think your personal religious beliefs correpond to the “one true religion” (even if such a thing actually exists, which seems unlikely); and, second, that since you are almost certainly wrong about the infallibility of your religious beliefs, then you should confine those beliefs to your home and religious sanctuary…and keep them out of public government. Public government should deal with public problems; it should not have to referee theological disputes caused by: (a) Believers trying to force their particular religious beliefs onto the rest of their community; or (b) in-fighting among competing groups of Believers who cannot themselves agree on how to interpret their own holy book. The more that public government must battle such religious problems, the less time it can spend on the real problems that public government was created to solve and which it is best equipped to solve. People rant about frivolous lawsuits clogging American courts; I think it’s time to rant about frivolous religious bills clogging American legislatures. Bills such as those that seek to ban abortions, ban stem cell research, ban marriage rights for homosexuals, or force the teaching of “intelligent design” in public schools. Such bills all have as their driving force a particular relgious belief — a belief that, as we have seen, is almost certainly wrong.
You are correct, I can not speak on behalf atheists.
I can only state what I would need to consciously choose to deny my current beliefs. To me, unless a person is a total skeptic they are going to believe in something about life in general. Those beliefs is general are a belief in something nonetheless, no matter if a person tries to state otherwise.
In my opinion, agnostics are better at the null hypothesis concept. In my opinion, atheists have a full blown vested interest in finding truth that intentionally discounts the possibility of God.
Therefore the construction of a closely knit, interconnected solurce of reasoned “scientific” perspective that can not be observationally proven or disproven either way suites as the best methodology.
I do not claim to speak for atheists, I speak as one who tries to consciously reason what I would have to do to adjust my thought process to become one.
I have some sympathy for the view that values are not determined by rational thought, or even could be. I am an actuary so I make my living being rational and analytical but I think my values have a different source and are not necessarily amenable to the same sort of analysis. For example, it seems wrong (as opposed to irrational) to me to be wasteful, but a retailer might argue on rational grounds that it is good for me to be wasteful - economic growth, alleviating Chinese poverty etc relies on me being wasteful. I can find some countervailing rational arguments to support my view but that is an afterthought, not the basis for my values or what drives my behaviour. I try to question my values or biases; often, however, I come up against the limitations of my knowledge - GM foods feel creepy to me (and I can recognise that’s a feeling not a thinking), but on an issue where there are clearly people involved in the debate who have very strong vested interests, I don’t have the time or expertise to fully research the issue and, in any case, it may well be the very long term that turns out to be important, I can’t reach a rational conclusion. Instead, I rely on my ‘irrational’ response propped up by the precautionary principle. Popper’s thesis about falsifiability is also relevant - we can never prove that GM foods are safe, only that they haven’t been proven to be unsafe to date - so ‘rationally’ it becomes a question of weighing up the risks. However, it is obvious individuals have very different risk appetites and this resists objective rational analysis. (On the other hand, the generally poor understanding of risks might be improved by application of some rational thinking.) A view about GM foods may be a bit different from a life guiding value but introspection suggests to me that the processes involved may not be that different.
grumpypilgrim stated:
“Being an atheist myself, I would say it is not, as Karl asserts, the belief in something it can’t prove; rather, it is the disbelief in things that are unproven.”
Then one should be a skeptic willing to question all beliefs, including those with a lack of proof.