Off Topic: Good Company

(This is not directly related to the topic of Islam, but I thought it merited a blog post.)

Of late, I have been communicating with an individual who follows a very strict version of Christianity.  Some of the things he has to say are reasonable (i.e., don't drink or do drugs), others blatantly offensive (even thinking about self-harm or suicide will get one sent to Hell, homosexuality is a sin, etc.), and still others quite interesting.  One of these was the idea that one should not associate with those who do not conform to one's own system of religious beliefs.  Personally, I am quite opposed to this idea.  If one refuses to investigate alternate theological viewpoints, one is far more prone to be intolerant, confused, or even violent towards people who do not follow one's belief system.  Furthermore, by failing to so much as spend time with people of different or no faiths, one will undoubtedly miss out on many valuable relationships - as evidence, most of the people I know are of different faiths than their best friends.

Balancing Religion and Secular Life

While I am not opposed to atheism, I think that religion can be a worthwhile and positive aspect to people's lives.  However, this tends to be true only in moderation.  Devoting oneself wholly to one's religion is admirable, but only tends to work if one takes measures to remove oneself from the regular world, by joining a monastic order or by secluding oneself away from mainstream civilisation.  Attempting to practice one's religion in an extreme way while remaining an active part of mainstream society usually results in unhappiness both for one, and for the people around one.

As most people are not interested in joining a monastic order, they usually attempt to balance their religion with their secular life - although of course, the degrees to which they succeed vary widely.  If anyone reading this would like to share their experiences balancing religion with secular life, I'd appreciate it!

A Different Level

In class, we discussed the difference between the popular conception of Buddhism's regulation of emotions and the reality - the former that it simply removes the highs and lows of emotion, and the latter that it causes one's emotions to exist on a totally different level.  I still wonder, however, how much actual joy is involved in achieving a disconnect from all attachment.  It seems to me (and I could be wrong, of course) that the most significant joys in life are connected to attachment - stargazing with a good friend, for example.  If one was not attached to such a friend, I would imagine that one would appreciate their company less; not to say that one could not appreciate them, but that a significant element of the appreciation would be gone.

Perhaps a middle ground between attachment and disconnection would be the ideal state for emotions.  If one does develop attachments, and thus does feel loss when those attachments fail, but then learns to eventually let go of that loss, one can experience the best of both worlds.

I am not certain of my ideas here, so if anyone has comments I'd appreciate the input!

Response: Extremism and Visibility

In response to Lauren Feeney's post "The Thing About Christians" (April 14, 2012):

Very interesting article! I agree that many people are obsessed with Christianity, probably because it has become such a visible force in politics today. It does seem as though the most extreme Christians are the ones making policy these days - for example, the Vatican has some ridiculously strict doctrines, but most people I know who identify as Catholic are much more moderate in their views. This extremism, I think, is not only detrimental to atheists, agnostics, and non-Christian theists, but to any Christians who have less extreme views than those visible few.  In fact, it may do more damage to such moderate Christians, because it may cause many non-Christians to assume that every Christian is a fanatical extremist (like Fred Phelps, or someone similarly awful).
A quick side note - I could have missed it, but reading the article, I didn't notice Seven mention Catholicism.  It seems like he was commenting on Christianity in general, not Catholicism specifically.

Response: Theological Curiosity

In response to Ryan Walters' post "Respect" (April 8, 2012):

I do not think that attending a church, and/or participating in its activities, without belonging to that church's denomination is disrespectful at all.  Unless the church states that only members of the religion are allowed within, you are simply taking advantage of an open invitation.  In fact, I think that many churches would probably welcome visitors, due to the chance of gaining new members of the faith.  Curiosity about other systems of belief is an indication of an admirable sort of open-mindedness, I think.  As long as you do not take the opportunity of being in a church to cause disruption amongst the other attendees (for example, a member of the Westboro Baptist Church shouting and throwing rotten fruit in a Unitarian Universalist church), there is no reason not to attend churches (or other places of worship) for all the religions you wish to investigate.

Descartes and Buddhism

I find it interesting that one of the central ideas in Buddhism is the non-existence of the self.  This is in direct contrast with Descartes' famous 'cogito ergo sum' idea, which states that the existence of the self is the only thing that one can be certain of.  I wonder how a Buddhist would respond to Descartes' reasoning - would they say that the apparent self is actually just a collection of attributes which can under certain circumstance break apart?  Would they say that the consciousness perceiving the (possibly illusionary, by both theories) world is not the self, but a universal consciousness that is simply manifested in parts?

Not being sufficiently well-versed in Buddhist doctrine myself, I cannot make any assertions about the answer with any confidence.  If anyone would like to suggest ideas, I would very much appreciate it!

Response: Buddhism's Compatibility

In response to Brian Fitzpatrick's post "On Rerererererereading the Dhammapada" (April 5, 2012):

The non-mystical, detectable results of practising Buddhism are, I think, a very large part of its appeal.  Particularly to those who grew up with traditions such as Christianity (wherein the results of belief and practice do not become manifest until after death), getting actual results within this lifetime may seem like a refreshing change.  Furthermore, I think that the compatibility of Buddhism with other religions may also seem welcoming to many, as they do not have to abandon their previous religious affiliation in order to practice at least a large portion of the advice of the Buddha.

While Buddhism does contain some metaphysical and spiritual elements which contradict the doctrines of Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and so on, the actual practices (meditation, letting go of attachments, etc.) do not clash at all with these religions.  As such, it is possible for someone who is, for example, Muslim, to also practice Buddhism as part of their daily life.

Response: Antiquated Style

In response to Rebecca Ryan's post "Dhammapada" (April 5, 2012):

The verses of the Dhammapada are indeed quite repetitive in form.  However, I do not think that this is at all a result of bad writing or bad translation.  In ancient times, when oral tradition was much more prominent in many cultures, people would frequently set stories or advice in poetic or chanted form, because poems and songs are typically easier to remember than straight prose.  I do not know a whole lot about Indian poetry, or about the oral tradition there, but I would guess that it was not totally dissimilar to that in Europe and the Middle East.

As for the contradictory nature of juxtaposed verses, it makes sense in the context of a poetic collection of sayings.  Because the Dhammapada's format is so structured, it typically has one verse describing bad actions or traits and the negative results thereof, and then positive actions or traits and the corresponding results of those.  It may seem unnecessary, but if one thinks about it like the lyrics to a song, or the verses in a poem, it seems less strange.

Temporary States of Inequality

During Tuesday's class, we briefly touched upon the topic of teen pregnancy being partially a product of the larger issue of legal and societal discrimination against teens.  I have thought about this issue before, and concluded that it is almost uniquely difficult to address.  This is because, unlike other forms of discrimination, it has no permanent victims.  The status of being a teen is temporary; and as the firmest advocates (and indeed, the majority of advocates) for a cause are typically those most affected by it, there is no long-lasting pool of firm advocates for teen rights.

To illustrate this more clearly, let us use the example of gay rights.  Someone who is gay will always be gay, regardless of whether or not they actively take part in homosexual actions.  As such, a gay advocate for gay rights will continually feel the injustice directed towards them, and thus will continue to work towards eradicating that injustice.  Over time, they may build up a reputation among political or intellectual groups, and as a result will be able to have a greater influence on the social situation which is causing or allowing the injustice.

In contrast, people are only teens (defined here as being between the ages of thirteen and eighteen - the period during which social inequality is most pronounced) for a short while.  After they reach legal adulthood, the feelings of injustice which they previously possessed may begin to fade, removing their motivation to continue working to achieve teen rights.  In fact, as members of the privileged majority (adults) they may condemn their earlier views as immature.  As a result of this temporariness, most advocates for teen rights have no time in which to build up a reputation in influential circles.

A last note - perhaps the only group which is (slightly) comparable to teens in terms of temporary discrimination is the transgendered community, due to the fact that after transitioning, transgendered people (rightly or not) often no longer consider themselves part of the community.  However, as many areas do not allow people to transition completely (legally as well as physically) and because even after transitioning many people still have trouble being perceived as members of their actual gender, even this issue has more chance of resolution than teen rights.

Response: Peace and Progress

In response to Elena Noummano's post "If Everyone was Buddhist" (March 31, 2012):

While I agree that the world would likely be much more peaceful if all people practiced Buddhism, I think that there could also be negative effects of the situation. Most problematically, I think that universal Buddhism might well slow progress in many areas, from science to technological development to space exploration. This is because Buddhism advocates a life of self-reflection and meditation. While it is true that such a life can lead to increased happiness for the individual, it also causes stagnation in the progress of society as a whole.

Perhaps Buddhism does not have to be this extreme in such an ideal society; certainly, not all practitioners of current Buddhism are particularly strict. It certainly seems as though Buddhism is less likely to cause conflict than many other religions.

Mortality Rate and Attachment

Buddhism is not the only religion or philosophy which advocates eliminating attachment from one's life in order to minimise suffering.  Many philosophies which developed in ancient times advised their followers to either attempt to love without attachment (a difficult accomplishment to be sure) or to restrict themselves entirely from developing emotional bonds with people, animals, or objects.

This type of thinking seems quite strange in the context of contemporary society, where attachment is not only commonplace, but often viewed as an admirable display of trust in another person (in interpersonal relationships, that is, not in person-to-object relationships).  What has changed between then and now?

One of the most significant factors, I think, might be the difference in mortality rates.  In many ancient societies, the mortality rate was comparatively high; death was commonplace, a part of life for effectively everyone.  As such, loss was frequent, and eliminating attachment might indeed have been the best way to maintain a healthy psyche.  In modern society, the mortality rate is much lower, so loss has become a relatively rare occurrence for most people.  Thus, attachment is a much smaller risk, and so has become more popular and less dangerous.

Response: Inevitable Boredom?

In response to Brandon Gaudet's post "Life and Death: Two Sides of the Same Coin?" (March 29, 2012):

So far as humanity has discovered, no immortal, sentient entities exist at the current moment.  However, the popularity of the concept of immortality in literature has exhibited that human perception of the idea tends to take on one of two general views.  The first of these is that immortality only takes place in ideal settings (heaven, etc.) or as a form of eternal punishment (i.e. hell), and in the context of divine power.  This is likely a simple manifestation of humanity's virtually unanimous fear of death, by incorporating a lack of death into any ideal reality.  The second view is that immortality, while initially pleasant, eventually becomes tedious, and immortal beings end up seeking a way to terminate their existences.

Whether this latter view would hold true in reality is less than clear - after all, as humans do not have any experience with immortal beings, any human views on the subject (no matter how common) are purely hypothetical.  It seems possible that, as the universe is constantly in a state of change, an immortal being would not become fatally bored.  This is not to say that such a being might not decide to terminate their existence for some other reason - frustration with other beings, continual grief over the deaths of other beings, curiosity about the possibility of an afterlife - but merely that boredom alone might well not be enough to cause such a decision.

Karma and the Problem of Evil

The Problem of Evil is a long-debated obstacle to many religions' rationality.  In short, it asks how, if a god is both all-good and all-powerful, evil can exist in the world.  In the case of Christianity, of many similar monotheistic religions (Judaism and Islam, for example) the only viable solution so far appears to be that an all-powerful god might have plans that are beyond human comprehension, and as such allow the seeming impossibility of evil to exist.  Some variations on the concept of karma (or on the concept of divine justice), however, circumvent the entire problem by claiming that people bring evil on themselves by their own immoral actions.

This outlook, unfortunately, can lead to many problems.  For example, when a natural disaster occurs, leaving many people injured or otherwise in need of assistance, anyone who possesses such an outlook might well say that the victims deserve their fates, and refuse to assist them.

Response: Doubts Are Not Bad

In response to Jess Gamari's post "Knowledge is Not a Sin" (March 23, 2012):

I agree that expecting people to accept religious doctrines on 'blind faith' is unreasonable.  Furthermore, I think it is actually bad, and can lead to deterioration of actual belief.  If one's belief is built solely on stubborn, blind acceptance of things one's teachers, parents, or other authority figures taught one, without any real understanding, that belief is easy to undermine by a simple change in circumstances.  It also will not bend or fail when perhaps it should.

Doubting one's religious beliefs, investigating them, and deciding whether or not to continue with them based on real information can lead to a firmer, more confident type of belief without niggling doubts or discomfort.  If one finds out all one can about Christianity, and makes an informed decision that they will believe in that particular religion, then one can rationally defend one's choice against critics - as opposed to stumble around blindly and end up looking like a stubborn fool who refuses to accept an alternative belief system in spite of overwhelming evidence in its favour.  I do think that following Christian doctrine, or indeed almost any religious doctrine, can be just as rational a choice as atheism or agnosticism - but that it rarely seems so because people are afraid to doubt or question their beliefs.

Past Changes?

After reading Crossan's book, I think the idea that Christians must adapt the Bible to suit a new era is a very good one.  It also seems as though Jesus interpreted the Old Testament in somewhat nontraditional ways in order to suit the era in which he lived.  Furthermore, this concept of interpreting religious texts appears to have been far more accepted in the past.

Learning all of this has caused me to wonder if Jews who lived prior to Jesus' time actually revised the Old Testament textually.  As new situations arose, it seems as though rewriting outdated sections of the Old Testament would have been very useful for the ancient Jews.  While it may be impossible to prove whether or not such adaptation of text occurred, hypothesising about the possibility is interesting and may help some to understand the flexible and metaphorical nature of the Bible today.

Response: Multiple Options

In response to Martha Bruso's post on March 23, 2012:

I think that belief in God is not required in order to believe in Jesus' social views, although obviously the two often go together.  One can support Jesus' vision of an egalitarian society without being religious at all, or one can believe that he was a (human) revolutionary with very strong and valid religious faith, or one can believe he was actually the son of God.  God was certainly not just a feature of the story added in by later historians; Jesus himself was Jewish, and the Jews of his time did believe that God existed.  Whether or not one believes in God, the fact that many people in Jesus' time (most probably including Jesus) did believe is hard to dispute.  However, the idea of Jesus being the son of God was likely added in later.  While of course I cannot prove this, I seriously doubt that Jesus himself thought that he was the son of God (unless, of course, he actually was.)

Response: No Absolutes

In response to Lily O'Neill's post "Tearing the Family Apart" (March 22, 2012):

In Jesus' time, the structure of the family was not the same as it typically is in modern-day America.  The hierarchy was far more pronounced, in keeping with the patriarchal nature of the society.  As such, the relationships between husbands and wives, parents and children, and between siblings were far less amiable than they may have been in the families of many of us bloggers.  Furthermore, there was little or no legal regulation on how to treat family members; as such, when abuse of power occurred, the victimised party or parties would have had much less ability to change their situations.

Even today, abuse of power within family structure persists, albeit in a rather stealthier form, due to the laws affecting treatment of family members.  Without a far more substantial sample than simply one's own experiences with family structure, it is probably unwise to support the sort of hierarchy that even modern families usually contain.  Jesus was almost certainly aware that not all heads of families abused their power; his objection to family structures was therefore likely based on the potential for such abuse.  By destroying the framework that made the problems possible, he probably hoped to eliminate the problems.  If it is still difficult to understand his rationale, consider; no matter how good a job your parents or parent may have done at raising you, what would have happened if they had used their authority (as sanctioned by society and, to some extent, by the law) to treat you in an overall negative fashion?

Response: Reputation Build-Up

In response to Julia Monturo's post "There Is, There Is Not a God" (March 10, 2012):

I absolutely agree that stubborn atheism and stubborn theism can be equally bad.  However, it seems that stubborn theism has a worse reputation in general among agnostics and others who choose not to take sides; its reputation also seems to be based more in its dogmaticism than in its 'blasphemous nature' or other spiritual flaws.  When dogmatic atheists criticise theists, the criticism seems to be primarily towards the theists' supposed idiocy and blind faith, whereas when dogmatic theists criticise atheists, the criticism seems to be directed more at the atheists' evil or ungodly world-views.  The latter sort of criticism is, I think, relatively easy to dismiss if one adopts a viewpoint of religious relativity; the former is more difficult to dispel.  However, I think that the former can also be applied to stubborn atheists; as such, even if we cannot dismiss it, we can at least distribute our criticism more fairly.  I would guess that the currently common idea that only theists can be guilty of faulty, blind dogma comes from the fact that there have been, historically, many more wars and other tragedies due to theistic blind dogma than to atheistic blind dogma, but that is not due to atheism's inherently greater rationality (which does not, I think, exist); it is instead due to atheism's far smaller historical following.

Response: Not Religious???

In response to Dania Guadalupe's post "Is There Something Wrong Here?" (March 3, 2012):

I can't say that I quite understand how this chap can say that he hates religion.  It seems quite, quite clear that his assertions about Jesus fall under the category of religion - in fact, he even mentions his belief that various supernatural happenings involved Jesus literally occurred.  It seems to me that his objection is not against religion, but rather against some particular religious denomination, or perhaps against organised religion in general.  Religion, however, does not have to be organised, and his freestyle sort of belief in Jesus does fit the description of religion rather nicely.

Skewed Perspectives

When, in Thursday's class, we briefly discussed Ganhi and his apparently brutally honest autobiography, I thought about the nature of actual honesty.  In modern society, 'honesty' seems to imply admitting your faults to others, exposing the darkest parts of your history and nature for public perusal.  People who admit their lack of proficiency at various activities, tell stories about the unpleasant or immoral things they have done in the past, and generally act in a manner usually considered modest or self-effacing are often lauded as being brutally honest.

However, being modest is not the same thing as being honest.  Going on about all of one's failings while neglecting to mention, or perhaps denying the worth of, one's achievements is no more truthful than focusing only on the good side of things.  While I haven't read Gandhi's autobiography and as such am in no position to gauge how honest or dishonest he might have been about his life, I do know that putting oneself down and focusing only on one's negative traits seems to be far more admired than is probably wise.  In order to be fully and actually honest, people must focus on their negative and positive traits to the same degree, exhibiting an impartial attitude dedicated only to the truth.