Ask A Humanist, Vol. 7: Isn't It Hypocritical For A Non-Believer To Celebrate Christmas?

As a non-believer, I've heard many a wisecrack from my Christian friends as the holidays approach. They're all in good fun. There are good ones about decorating the 'Darwin tree,' singing science carols, or toys being delivered by Sagan Claus.

While these are just friendly jabs between friends, they say a lot about society's attitudes on religious rituals, customs, and appropriation.

We have all witnessed the War on Christmas that erupts each year (mostly fabricated by Fox News and the Christian right). We have all been beaten over the head with Black Friday commercialization and the ensuing endless stream of secular Christmas specials devoid of any mention of Jesus (save for good ol' Charlie Brown).

There is a sentiment felt by many Christians that non-Christians shouldn't be able to join the party. For a long time in America, it was the Jews who sat on the sidelines while Santa delivered sack-loads of toys to their Christian neighbors. Now, as the non-religious population has become a sizable demographic (the so-called 'religious nones'), many Christians are dismayed, and perhaps bewildered, to not see them sitting on the sidelines as well.


Heritage

Just as non-practicing Jews often participate in the rituals associated with their heritage, many non-Christians who grew up in Christian households still find comfort in the rituals associated with their Christian heritage.  We do, after all, come from Christian cultural roots.

I grew up in a religious household. We celebrated Christmas each year in the same way that most Christians do. We decked the halls, wrote letters to Santa, decorated a tree, hung wreaths, lit candles, baked cookies, opened Advent calendars, set up a table-top nativity scene, sang carols, wrapped gifts, and reflected upon the birth of Jesus and the real meaning of Christmas.

My parents participated in these same rituals and customs growing up, as did their parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on. I imagine that my family's Christmas customs are nearly as old as the customs themselves.

Like non-practicing Jews who light the Menorah at Hanukkah, the customs associated with Christmas are important to who I am and where I came from, whether or not I personally accept Christianity's claims. (I don't -- and this conclusion was not arrived upon easily.)


Nostalgia

I have wonderful childhood memories of Christmastime. It is a time of wonder and joy for any child who experiences it. Some of these memories are as powerful, and as comforting, as any memories I have.

It is no coincidence that retailers infuse the air with the smells of cinnamon, pine, and cider during the Holidays. We are psychological beings, and our memories carry deep associations with sights, sounds, and smells of our experiences. Just as we might like playing a particular song that connects us with a specific joyous experience, partaking in the sights and sounds of the holidays can elicit many of the feelings we experienced at a simpler, more innocent time in our lives. We also find pleasure in sharing these memories, and making new memories, with our own children.

Participating in the customs and rituals associated with Christmas, despite our religious conviction (or lack thereof), is a beautiful way of appreciating and strengthening our bond with the past, of passing this gift of heritage along to our children, and of extending these bonds into another generation. Whether or not the next generations choose to believe in the tenets of Christianity is up to each of them. I don't wish to deprive them of that opportunity.


Appropriation

So, sure, all this sounds great, but still, isn't it just a case of having your cake and eating it too?

If participating in the customs of my ancestors despite lacking the same beliefs is wrong, then a whole lot of customs we participate in each year are wrong as well.

The Christmas narrative in and of itself has many similarities to other religions that pre-date Christianity, suggesting that elements may have been borrowed. Jesus was not the first miracle-worker born to a virgin who would later be crucified and resurrected.

The date of Christmas was chosen to coincide with winter festivals that pre-date the holiday. The ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia featured gift-giving, visiting with friends and loved ones, the lighting of candles, and a feast. Pagan Scandinavia celebrated Yule, for 'a fertile, and peaceful season,' with customs such as the Yule log, singing, and the Yule boar (reflected today in the Christmas ham). Koleda, an ancient Slavic ritual celebrating death and rebirth, featured a custom of roving from home to home singing songs and receiving gifts. Christmas customs related to greenery, lights, and charity pre-date Christmas and were likely adopted from Roman New Year celebrations.

Anyone with a knowledge of religious customs throughout the ages would agree that there are not many Christmas customs that did not exist prior to the holiday's origin.

Despite the mixed religious roots of Santa Claus, he is largely a secular phenomenon, along with Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman, and other recent staples associated with the season. Puritans, in fact, opposed celebration of Christmas at all for nearly two centuries because of its secular and pagan associations.

We can point to any number of holidays that Americans participate in despite not really 'deserving' to celebrate them. We don't need to be religious, or Irish, to wear green and drink a pint of Guinness on St. Patrick's Day.  We don't need to be Mexican to have nachos and a Corona on Cinco de Mayo. We don't need to believe in pagan supernaturalism to dress up on Halloween and trick-or-treat. The eggs and bunnies associated with Easter (named, of course, for the goddess Ēostre of Anglo-Saxon paganism) are customs that millions of non-pagans enjoy each year.

So, really, this business of appropriation is nothing new. As it says in Ecclesiastes 1:9 (although I'm sure it was said before), "There is no new thing under the sun."


The Message of Christmas Is A Good One

Just as one doesn't need to be African-American to acknowledge the importance of what Martin Luther King, Jr. stood for, one needn't be a Christian to acknowledge the importance of the philosophies associated with Jesus.

You really couldn't ask for a greater message: Love everyone, regardless.  Extend kindness to all, even those who you may feel are undeserving. Always strive for justice and peace. Be charitable, and be forgiving. 

Whether or not I actually believe that a historical Jesus preached this message, and whether or not I accept that this figure was born of a virgin, was the son of God, worked miracles, was crucified, was resurrected, and ascended bodily into heaven, the philosophies associated with Jesus are certainly worthy of observance.

We could do much worse than spending a portion of our year with a heightened sense of awareness of these sentiments. These philosophies are certainly not unique to Christianity, nor were they new philosophies at the time Jesus would have lived, but his message, as well as his story, was a big part of my family's heritage and was a big part of my own childhood. Acknowledging this through the the observance of long-practiced family customs and rituals is anything but dishonest.


Doing What Works

There are many Humanists and non-believers who choose to refrain from participating in religious holiday traditions. There is certainly nothing wrong with that. There are degrees of non-belief.

While I may reject supernatural and religious dogma as a basis for morality, I don't reject religion as a whole. I don't discount the benefits many receive from religion, and I certainly understand and accept the concept of sacredness.

I am lucky in that I live in a society that holds dear the right to religious freedom. In my home, we exercise this right by participating in customs associated with a variety of religions. Our kids love to play dreidel for chocolate gelt during Hanukkah. They have lit the Menorah. They learn about the vast array of religious customs and observances around the world, and throughout history, and some interest them more than others.

A religiously literate child will not grow to be a xenophobic exceptionalist. She will very likely grow to be tolerant, charitable, kind, and will likely value peace and justice.  Much like this Jesus person that is celebrated this time of year.

More 'Ask a Humanist' entries...

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
• Vol. 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?

Ask A Humanist: Reflections On Leaving Faith In The Bible Belt

"Humanism is a progressive philosophy of life that, without theism and other supernatural beliefs, affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment that aspire to the greater good of humanity." - American Humanist Association

Since March of 2011, I have been writing and posting periodic missives about my long, slow departure from religion. I believe I left it long ago, but it wasn't until the last several years that I became comfortable with speaking openly about this aspect of my life.

Partly, this series has been a way to address many of the questions I've been asked by people here in the Bible Belt, where so many people assume everyone else belongs to a church congregation.

I also wrote many of these posts because, although there is no shortage of books about non-belief, there are not many which address the real-life impacts that leaving religion can have -- on our families, our neighbors, our children, and our emotions.

This page collects parts 1-7 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope, and will be updated as new posts are written.




Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
As someone who is not religious, I often struggle with how to describe my lack of religion. I have returned to The Bible Belt after being away for a decade, and it is not uncommon to be asked, "Where do you go to church?" In this region, stating "We don't attend church" is often interpreted as "We haven't been invited to church yet," and more inquiries about your brand of faith are likely to ensue. I'm not keen on labels, especially to describe my lack of participation in something ("non-stamp collector" comes to mind). But people like to put a label on things (and people). For lack of a better term, and because the shoe seems to fit, I will often refer to myself as a Secular Humanist. Continue Reading...




Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
Many people who were brought up in a major denomination are no longer affiliated with that denomination. Secularity is growing in all regions of the country. These people are otherwise normal people, and like religious folks, they are creating families. When their children reach the age where they start to be introduced to religious ideas, parents have to make some choices, and that presents some challenges and is a source of anxiety to many. Continue Reading...






Vol. 3: What About Death?
Human beings are both blessed and cursed in that we evolved the cruel awareness of our own mortality. We are cursed in that this awareness, combined with our fierce instinct of self-preservation, is the source of a great deal of fear and anxiety. Yet we are blessed in that we can truly understand the great fortune we have been afforded by our very existence. This awareness also allows us to truly understand the value of each day we are alive. Continue reading...






Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
If one follows a particular code, and aligns oneself with a philosophy that has a Web presence, a Wikipedia entry, and a presence in the public sphere, then isn't that just like any other faith or religion? That's a perfectly fair question. Continue reading...





Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
They used to say, "Never talk about politics or religion," but for some reason, those are the two things that fascinate me most. Religion and politics are hopelessly intertwined in America, and each informs so much of American culture, that it's difficult to get too far in a conversation before we're off and running down a path that might have been avoided in more refined times. There are times, if I voice frustration with a particular religious belief, when someone will ask, "Why do you care what people believe?" or any number of variations: "What happened to live and let live?" or "Can't you just be happy that people find comfort in their beliefs?" Continue reading...




Vol. 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?
Many find it inconceivable that someone could find happiness without God and everything that accompanies belief in God: the promise of eternal life, the assurance that events in our lives are occurring in accordance with God's plan, and the feeling that an all-knowing, loving entity is looking over us and protecting us. Certainly, they think, without these assurances, life would be joyless, meaningless, and cold. Much of these insinuations are due to misunderstandings about the nature of non-belief. Continue reading...




Vol. 7: Isn't It Hypocritical For A Non-Believer To Celebrate Christmas?
As a non-believer, I've heard many a wisecrack from my Christian friends as the holidays approach. They're all in good fun. There are good ones about decorating the 'Darwin tree,' singing science carols, or toys being delivered by Sagan Claus. While these are just friendly jabs between friends, they say a lot about society's attitudes on religious rituals, customs, and appropriation. Continue reading...

Ask A Humanist, Vol 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?

(Part 6 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope.)

Sad Panda has no religion.

Many people of faith have a hard time understanding what it's like to live without religion. On many occasions, I have heard believers express pity. "That's sad," they might say, about someone who does not engage in a relationship with a deity.

Many find it inconceivable that someone could find happiness without God and everything that accompanies belief in God: the promise of eternal life, the assurance that events in our lives are occurring in accordance with God's plan, and the feeling that an all-knowing, loving entity is looking over us and protecting us. Certainly, they think, without these assurances, life would be joyless, meaningless, and cold.

Much of these insinuations are due to misunderstandings about the nature of non-belief. There is a common misconception held by the religious in which non-theists are viewed as people who have known God, but have rejected him due to anger or impatience. Another common misconception is that non-theists rejected God due to the hypocrisy often found in organized religion.

I can assure you that the relationship between most non-theists and God is nothing like a relationship between two long-time friends that has soured. In this latter scenario, these former friends still exist and go about their lives, apart from each other. Non-theists, by and large, either never entertained the idea of a supernatural being, or were brought up religious and later realized they couldn't entertain with honesty the idea of a supernatural being. God, to most non-theists, is simply not part of the fabric of their reality.

You're doing it wrong.

The best way for a believer to understand a non-theist's relationship with God is by reflecting upon their own relationship with, say, Zeus. It would be silly to assume that religious people lead sad lives because they do not have a relationship with Zeus. They simply don't go about their life with Zeus informing their daily actions or thoughts. As difficult as it may seem for the religious to view the Zeus example as a parallel, it is as accurate as any. Most non-theists simply characterize current religions as an extension of a religious lineage that contains Mithraism, Zoroastrianism, and countless others. A Christian's atheism towards Mithra is not much different than the non-theist's atheism towards the Abrahamic God.

Even if the believer understands a non-theist's relationship with religion, it does not explain why a lack of religious faith is not accompanied by feelings of sadness and emptiness. While letting go of religion can certainly be an emotional endeavor (any time we no longer entertain a long-held belief there is emotional fallout), ultimately it can be one of the most liberating experiences one can imagine.

A few of the ways in which letting go of religion has led to happier, more fulfilling lives for many non-believers:

This life has to be enough: When we come to terms with the fact that there is no evidence for an afterlife, we can focus on the limited time we have in this life. When we accept that our time is finite, we place a higher value on every minute that we have. When we let go of the concept of final judgment, each decision we make must be based on the effects our actions have on this life, on the lives of our fellow humans, and on our environment. We are lucky to be alive, and it is this realization that fills us with wonder, joy, curiosity, and gratefulness. The world is filled with so much beauty and joy that none of us will be able to experience even a fraction of its offerings in our lifetime. While non-believers are not without a sense of gratitude, we choose to spend our days focused on this life and making the most of it. Our acknowledgment of our finite existence is not a source of sadness.  It is a reminder that each day is a gift.

Death: While death will always be a source of anxiety and sadness, the longing associated with separation from our loved ones is less painful when we no longer view it as a separation. When we reject the human constructs of heaven and the afterlife, we can accept that the deceased are not aching with longing, regret, or separation. In fact, they are not feeling anything at all. 150 years of neuroscience has taught us that consciousness, memory, thought, and any sense of self whatsoever require a physical brain with electrical impulses and biochemical activities occurring in and between our neural cells. When a loved one dies, they simply cease being, period. Sure, the end of life is never a jovial affair, but to remove the supernatural concept of a reunion in the afterlife is to remove the longing and heartache that accompanies this anticipation. We also remove any and all anxiety associated with our afterlife destination when we reject the constructs of heaven and hell.  Our 'afterlife' is achieved by living a life that reverberates beyond our death -- affecting lives still being lived, and lives that have yet to be lived. Our legacy is our afterlife. We live on through those we have affected, through the changes that we have helped bring about (good or bad), and through the values and wisdom that we impart on those we leave behind. When we understand that our legacy is our afterlife, we are driven to ensure that the lives we lead resonate beyond our deaths, and we take time to explore, along with our families and friends, the legacies of those who have gone before us.

A life free of metaphysical baggage: In societies steeped in religious ideology, it seems even the most banal occurrences are fraught with metaphysical baggage. Humanists reject the assignment of meaning to coincidences, statistical anomalies, natural occurrences, and random events. When someone overcomes a lethal form of cancer, it's not a miracle. This does not make it any less remarkable, but if we must credit anyone or anything, we should credit a complex constellation of factors, including modern medicine, human perseverance, environmental factors, diet, genetics, the support of medical staff and loved ones, and the evolved, complex inner workings of the human body. When a catastrophic earthquake causes death and destruction to a region of the world, it is not divine retribution. It is the unfortunate result of sufficient stored elastic strain energy driving fracture propagation along a fault plane.  Certainly, events in our lives can be meaningful -- any event can awaken us to larger truths -- but it is silly to assign metaphysical meaning to things which, however remarkable, fall within the confines of the laws of nature.  This understanding helps to shed the anxiety that accompanies tragedies both personal ('Is God punishing me?'), and universal ('Are these catastrophes a sign of the End Times?').

Being good for goodness' sake: When we let go of religion, we don't fear that we will start cheating, stealing, and killing. Why? Because cheating, stealing, and killing tend to result in being rejected by our communities -- not because this behavior is sinful (sin, yet another human construct steeped in the supernatural), but because it threatens the well-being of others, and threatens the cohesiveness of society. This has been the case for as long as humans have lived in groups. Our morality evolved -- it was not handed down to us by God -- and it predates monotheism. As societies evolved from tribes to villages to towns and nations, our morality became the basis for many of our laws.  Religion certainly has influenced many of our laws, but many of the laws which crossed over from religious law have no bearing on actual morality (blue laws, for example, are rooted in the concept of the Sabbath). Non-believers are no more inclined to commit crimes than the religious.  In fact, many non-believers are more ethical and compassionate than the religious, especially those who use religion to justify their actions (see: LGBT equality, hate crimes, genocide). We take great care to ensure that our actions cause no harm to others, even if that harm is condoned by a religious text.  In other words, humans don't need God to be good.  We have evolved the capacity for empathy and compassion. Humans are so adept at knowing what is wrong and what is right that we can look at behavior condoned by scripture and conclude that it is immoral.  When we do harm, we feel bad. (We evolved the capacity for empathy.) When we act with the intention of reducing suffering, we have done good, and we feel good.

Embrace the unknown: Throughout history, religion has been used to explain the unexplainable. As we gained knowledge about the natural world, many religious explanations were no longer necessary. We no longer use religion to explain earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, thunder, rain, droughts, floods, winds, or fertility, as we did long ago. And as we learn more about the mind, the earth, and the cosmos, it is inevitable that we will use religion to explain less and less. Non-theists embrace the fact that it's okay to not have an explanation for the mysteries of life and of the cosmos. We are confident that, although perhaps not in our lifetime, science will answer most of these mysteries. Because we don't yet understand does not mean we must assign a supernatural explanation. We remember that even thunder once had a supernatural explanation. Hundreds of years from now many of our current supernatural explanations may seem as silly as Zeus' thunderbolts.  Most non-theists are perfectly fine accepting the unknown. It does not make us uneasy to not have the answers.  It adds to the beauty and wonder of the cosmos, and there is great joy that accompanies this sense of awe.

We give our lives meaning: Many believers think that a life without God has no meaning, no purpose. They may say, "If we just simply evolved over millions of years with no thinking, caring, omniscient being watching over us and guiding us, then life is meaningless."  This couldn't be further from the truth. We must cultivate meaning and purpose through our actions and their effects on the world around us.  No one is born with a purpose, other than to survive. Purpose and meaning are products of our upbringing, our experiences, our wants and desires, and our principles. We have our entire lives to cultivate meaning. This is a gift of empowerment capable of providing a lifelong sense of fulfillment. But that is up to us.

Life, by its very nature, provides a broad spectrum of experiences. None of us are immune to pain or suffering.  All of us will feel great pleasure and joy. Religion comes with no guarantee that we will experience any more, or less of either extreme (neither does a life lived without religion.)  While religion certainly does provide many of its adherents great comfort, those who live without religion find comfort in ways that may not be apparent to those who can't envision life without God.  We find comfort in the understanding that we share an ancestor with every living thing on earth. We find joy in nature, in the beauty of music and art, and in the possibilities afforded by our own (highly improbable) existence. We find meaning in our journey, in which we aspire to better the world for our descendants, so that they may have even greater possibilities than we have been afforded.

More 'Ask a Humanist' entries...

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?

Ask a Humanist, Vol 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?

(Part 5 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope.)


I get into discussions.

They used to say, "Never talk about politics or religion," but for some reason, those are the two things that fascinate me most. Religion and politics are hopelessly intertwined in America, and each informs so much of American culture, that it's difficult to get too far in a conversation before we're off and running down a path that might have been avoided in more refined times.  There are times, if I voice frustration with a particular religious belief, when someone will ask, "Why do you care what people believe?" or any number of variations: "What happened to live and let live?" or "Can't you just be happy that people find comfort in their beliefs?"

Those are all valid questions, and I'm quite aware that my tendency to speak my mind on such matters have offended some people. That is not my intention.

Non-believers as smug, arrogant, condescending, and intolerant.

If one were to ask religious folks to describe the non-religious folks that they have encountered in conversation, I'm pretty sure that those descriptors would include: angry, condescending, smug, arrogant, annoying, intolerant, and so on. While I don't doubt that there are some angry, condescending, smug non-believers, these perceptions and attitudes have more to do with misconceptions than anything else.  A study conducted by the University of Minnesota found atheists to be the most despised minority in America.  I know quite a few of them, and although I don't think any minority should be despised, I can attest that most of the ones I know are incredibly kind, intelligent, responsible, ethical citizens. Just like most of the religious folks I know.

I am fairly self-aware. I am quite aware when I am in a state of anger.  I can attest that, in my case (and likely in the case of many non-believers), most of this perceived anger is a by-product of worry and impatience.  The perception of aggression or antagonism is quite often due to the fact that we are passionate and we care.

Why do you care?

The answer to "Why do you care what people believe?" is pretty clear.  I care because, unfortunately, religious belief too often creeps into areas where it either does not belong, or where it infringes on the rights of others.  Although the Establishment Clause of the US Constitution prohibits the establishment of a national religion, or a preference of one religion over another, religion continues to creep into all areas of our daily lives: our public schools, our courtrooms, our government, our workplaces, our healthcare, our military, our bedrooms, our environment, our elections, our wars.

I only care what people believe if and when their beliefs begin to encroach on my rights.  I may become impatient when I see organizations or politicians repeatedly push their particular brand of religious belief into the public sphere.  When laws and societal attitudes are defined by an ancient text, and not by the evolved capacity for moral theorizing and compassion for others, I become concerned.

When we tell ourselves that religious thought isn't something that we should worry about, we are forgetting the suffering and destruction that is brought on by religion, and which continues to occur each day.  If you're not aware of it, you're not paying attention.  We can turn to conflicts in Palestine (Jews vs. Muslims), the Balkans (Orthodox Serbians vs. Catholic Croatians; Orthodox Serbians vs. Bosnian and Albanian Muslims), Northern Ireland (Protestants vs. Catholics), Kashmir (Muslims vs. Hindus), Sudan (Muslims vs. Christians and animists), Nigeria (Muslims vs. Christians), Ethiopia and Eritrea (Muslims vs. Christians), Sri Lanka (Sinhalese Buddhists vs. Tamil Hindus), Indonesia (Muslims vs. Timorese Christians), Iran and Iraq (Shiite vs. Sunni Muslims), and the Caucasus (Orthodox Russians vs. Chechen Muslims; Muslim Azerbaijanis vs. Catholic and Orthodox Armenians) are merely a few cases in point. These are places where religion has been the explicit cause of literally millions of deaths in recent decades. (Sam Harris, Letter to a Christian Nation)

Aside from perpetuating violent conflicts across the globe, religion can have a corrosive effect on numerous aspects of society if we allow doctrine to inform public policy. We, as a society, also have this strange idea that if something is part of a religious belief that it becomes something that is protected from examination, that we must solemnly respect it. This is dangerous, as evidenced in the recent "Kill The Gays" bill in Uganda. Although the bill still threatens to pass, it is due to public outcry, and rejection of the criminalization of homosexuals (which has been influenced by extreme evangelical beliefs), that the bill's passage has been delayed.  Religious doctrine can also be detrimental to public education, as creationism is introduced into school curricula despite the fact that evolution serves as the bedrock of modern biology. 

Progress.

We must also take care to ensure that beliefs derived from ancient texts do not impede progress.  The Oxford Dictionary defines progress as "development towards an improved or more advanced condition." And I think we would all agree that the minimization of suffering is what we should strive for in humanity -- this would be an improved and advanced condition.  If one's religious beliefs impede a society's progress towards this condition, then it is my duty, and my right, to challenge the validity of those beliefs.

Tolerance.

I have been called a hypocrite on many occasions. At times I am (aren't we all?), but I reject any and all claims of hypocrisy as they relate to my rejection of religious beliefs which impede progress or infringe on the rights of others.

The U.N., in its Declaration of Principles on Tolerance, defines tolerance in great detail. In addition to the primary meaning of tolerance, the UN states the following:

Tolerance is not concession, condescension or indulgence. Tolerance is, above all, an active attitude prompted by recognition of the universal human rights and fundamental freedoms of others. In no circumstance can it be used to justify infringements of these fundamental values. Tolerance is to be exercised by individuals, groups and States.

Tolerance is the responsibility that upholds human rights, pluralism (including cultural pluralism), democracy and the rule of law. It involves the rejection of dogmatism and absolutism and affirms the standards set out in international human rights instruments.

Consistent with respect for human rights, the practice of tolerance does not mean toleration of social injustice or the abandonment or weakening of one's convictions. It means that one is free to adhere to one's own convictions and accepts that others adhere to theirs. It means accepting the fact that human beings, naturally diverse in their appearance, situation, speech, behaviour and values, have the right to live in peace and to be as they are. It also means that one's views are not to be imposed on others.

This is as fine a definition as one will find.  When we are tolerant, by no means are we required to tolerate the maligning, physical harm, or oppression of others. Nor are we required to sit idly while a religious belief  informs public policy.

Caring about the beliefs of others.

Our society is so incredibly influenced by religion that we often forget which issues have a religious basis and which do not.  The tentacles of religion have entangled themselves in every wedge issue we encounter: abortion, LGBT rights, stem cell research, healthcare, the environment, etc.  Many times people will oppose a particular idea because it is "wrong."  If we step back and ask ourselves why it is wrong, we often see that, outside of a mention in an ancient text, there is no evidence supporting its is detrimental to society.  In other words, there is often no secular justification for many of our stances on these issues. We often will find that alongside this scriptural "evidence," we also have evidence that many other things are "detrimental" -- things we have dismissed as not relevant to modern times (i.e. shellfish, blended fabrics, etc.)  It is at this point that some will state that, "without scripture, we would not know what is right and wrong." This is not only untrue, but also ignores evidence of millions of years of group cohesion, human cooperation, and altruism.  Right and wrong can easily be defined outside of religion, and we can be certain that wearing blended fabrics, eating shellfish, and loving someone of the same sex will not lead to a collapse of society.

We Humanists believe that a religious text is not necessary to be good. In fact, we find that religious texts are limited in their ability to act as a moral guide (yes, there are some wonderful moral lessons to be gleaned from scripture, but there are also some highly questionable ones as well.) Ten commandments are not necessary.  We can get by with one: Always act with the intention of minimizing suffering and increasing the well-being of others. When we see others suffering as a result of religious beliefs, then something is drastically wrong.  And let's be clear. Denying the rights of human beings based on their sexuality is indeed acting with the intention of causing suffering. Favoring the life of a blastocyst over the potential eradication of unendurable misery of millions of human beings is indefensible, and grossly impedes progress. Denying climate change because God said he wouldn't allow man to destroy the earth is irresponsible.  Applying supernatural motives to natural disasters is Bronze Age thinking, and only adds to the suffering that has already occurred.

The point is: we care because we care about others, and we care about the world in which we live.  We care enough that we will stick our necks out and risk being perceived as condescending or smug.  But we hope that others will see that what is being perceived as anger is actually concern, even for those who see us in a negative light.

Ask a Humanist

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
• Vol 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?

Ask a Humanist, Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?

(Part 4 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope.)

There was a period of several years between the point when I accepted my lack of religious belief and the point in which I referred to myself as a Humanist/Secular Humanist. I honestly didn't know how to refer to myself, and I probably would not have settled on anything if it weren't for the fact that I kept running into situations where I was asked about my religious affiliation. Human beings love to classify things, including ourselves, and each other. 

Those several years where I wasn't sure how to classify my religious views were not unlike trying to self-diagnose a nagging chronic illness. (To extend the metaphor, as a formerly religious person, it did feel at times that something was wrong with me.) Most of us have plugged symptoms into a search engine in order to pinpoint a diagnosis. And most of us have been overwhelmed with the array of returned possibilities. There was atheism, agnosticism, pantheism, Humanism, and Universalist-Unitarianism. There was Ignosticism, Skeptcism, Secularism, Naturalism, and so on. And to complicate matters, many of the aforementioned philosophies have any number of definitions, or serve as an umbrella for any number of other, more specific philosophies.

At about the same the time that I was starting to figure out how to classify my beliefs, or lack of beliefs, Atheism was beginning to see a surge, specifically in bookstores, as tomes by Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett, and Christopher Hitchens enjoyed considerable success (and ignited quite a few discussions in the media). Although these books were instrumental in making non-belief less of a taboo (and helping non-believers feel less of a minority), their perceived antagonistic tones, as well as the backlash from religious figures and institutions, only seemed to further associate "Atheism" with negative characteristics.

As someone who has many wonderful religious friends and family members, the last thing I wanted to do was to seem hostile towards religion (something with which I haven't had tremendous success.)  Although, I had lost my faith, I had not lost my faith in humanity.  In fact, during the period in which I came to terms with my non-belief, my appreciation of humanity, of nature, and of life, grew.  I felt that if I had to label myself, I wanted not to focus on what I didn't believe, but rather what I did believe. 

The American Humanist Association describes Humanism as follows:

1. Humanism is one of those philosophies for people who think for themselves. There is no area of thought that a Humanist is afraid to challenge and explore.
   
2. Humanism is a philosophy focused upon human means for comprehending reality. Humanists make no claims to possess or have access to supposed transcendent knowledge.
   
3. Humanism is a philosophy of reason and science in the pursuit of knowledge. Therefore, when it comes to the question of the most valid means for acquiring knowledge of the world, Humanists reject arbitrary faith, authority, revelation, and altered states of consciousness.
   
4. Humanism is a philosophy of imagination. Humanists recognize that intuitive feelings, hunches, speculation, flashes of inspiration, emotion, altered states of consciousness, and even religious experience, while not valid means to acquire knowledge, remain useful sources of ideas that can lead us to new ways of looking at the world. These ideas, after they have been assessed rationally for their usefulness, can then be put to work, often as alternative approaches for solving problems.
   
5. Humanism is a philosophy for the here and now. Humanists regard human values as making sense only in the context of human life rather than in the promise of a supposed life after death.
   
6. Humanism is a philosophy of compassion. Humanist ethics is solely concerned with meeting human needs and answering human problems -- for both the individual and society -- and devotes no attention to the satisfaction of the desires of supposed theological entities.
   
7. Humanism is a realistic philosophy. Humanists recognize the existence of moral dilemmas and the need for careful consideration of immediate and future consequences in moral decision making.
   
8. Humanism is in tune with the science of today. Humanists therefore recognize that we live in a natural universe of great size and age, that we evolved on this planet over a long period of time, that there is no compelling evidence for a separable "soul," and that human beings have certain built-in needs that effectively form the basis for any human-oriented value system.
   
9. Humanism is in tune with today's enlightened social thought. Humanists are committed to civil liberties, human rights, church-state separation, the extension of participatory democracy not only in government but in the workplace and education, an expansion of global consciousness and exchange of products and ideas internationally, and an open-ended approach to solving social problems, an approach that allows for the testing of new alternatives.
   
10. Humanism is in tune with new technological developments. Humanists are willing to take part in emerging scientific and technological discoveries in order to exercise their moral influence on these revolutions as they come about, especially in the interest of protecting the environment.
11. Humanism is, in sum, a philosophy for those in love with life. Humanists take responsibility for their own lives and relish the adventure of being part of new discoveries, seeking new knowledge, exploring new options. Instead of finding solace in prefabricated answers to the great questions of life, humanists enjoy the open-endedness of a quest and the freedom of discovery that this entails.

They say if the shoe fits, wear it.  The above set of descriptors were already aligned with the philosophies that I had come to slowly over my entire life.  Are there other descriptions for other philosophies with which I would also feel aligned? Yes, I'm sure of it. And I would probably not deny any relationship with that philosophy. (I feel perfectly fine referring to myself as an atheist, an agnostic, a Universalist-Unitarian, and other descriptors.)

If one follows a particular code, and aligns oneself with a philosophy that has a Web presence, a Wikipedia entry, and a presence in the public sphere, then isn't that just like any other faith or religion?  That's a perfectly fair question.

The Encyclopedia Britannica defines faith as:

Inner attitude, conviction, or trust relating man to a supreme God or ultimate salvation.

If a philosophy of belief system does not concern itself with a god or gods, it isn't a faith.  Humanism does not involve entertaining concepts related to the supernatural.  It is a naturalistic, nonreligious worldview.

Some might say that, regardless, Humanism certainly smells like faith/religion. I wouldn't deny that there are some similarities.  For example, just like religious folks, non-religious folks like to congregate at times with those who share their worldview.  The non-religious might form informal groups, or unite behind a particular cause that is important to their worldview.  They might lobby for (or oppose) particular legislation due to their worldview in the same way that many religious groups might. They might even seem to evangelize, whether by writing a letter to the editor, sporting a bumper sticker, or promoting the separation of church and state.  However, none of these instances are efforts to promote belief in a supernatural being. They are usually efforts to promote critical thinking, to honor the Constitution's Establishment Clause, to stress the need for improved science education, etc.  

The Oxford English Dictionary defines Religion as follows (definitions 1-4):

1. Action or conduct indicating a belief in, reverence for, and desire to please a divine ruling power; the exercise or practice of rites or observances implying this.
2. A particular system of faith and worship.
3. Recognition on the part of man of some higher unseen power as having control of his destiny, and as being entitled to obedience, reverence, and worship; the general mental and moral attitude resulting from this belief, with reference to its effect upon the individual or the community; personal or general acceptance of this feeling as a standard of spiritual and practical life.
4. Devotion to some principle; a strict fidelity or faithfulness; conscientiousness; pious affection or attachment.

Definitions 1-3 are definitions which speak to the supernatural, and therefore do not apply to any form of non-belief.  One could argue that some non-religious folks could be described as having "devotion to some principle," as in definition 4.  If that were the case, we would need to also classify any form of activism and many political movements as religious. But one could not accurately describe Humanism as a religion in the sense that we describe the Abrahamic faiths.

Although I describe myself as a Humanist, I do not attend a church.  I don't belong to any formal Humanist organizations.  I own no t-shirts or bumper stickers that pronounce my alignment with Humanism.  I have no Humanist text. I have no mantra, prayer, or meditation. There are no belief requirements I must meet in order to be part of the Humanist collective. It simply helps to describe who I am and what I do and don't believe. But it also helps to communicate (I hope) that by being godless, I am not without morals, and that I care tremendously about the world in which we live, and the people who inhabit it.  I do have faith in people.  I have seen the great good, and the unspeakable evils, of which they are capable.

Although I sometimes refrain from quoting Sam Harris, for fear of turning off people who already have a poor impression of him, but he has a great quote that demonstrates the type of faith that Humanists embody:

"I know of no society in human history that ever suffered because its people became too desirous of evidence in support of their core beliefs." 

I believe that societies are capable of making decisions based on evidence (and not based on ancient texts or religious doctrine), and that people are capable of acting with the intention of reducing suffering (without relying on scripture).

If that's faith, I'm guilty as charged.

Ask a Humanist

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
• Vol 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?

Ask A Humanist, Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?

(This is Part 2 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope.)


There's a good joke about Unitarian Universalists. Q: "What's a Unitarian Universalist?" A: "An Atheist with children."

Religious jokes are funniest when there's an element of truth. I would never speak for Unitarian Universalists, but I have been to Unitarian Universalist services before, and I enjoyed them. Mostly because it was church without all the churchy things that make me uncomfortable about going to church. I enjoyed the music, the introspection, the communal aspects, all without the pressure to subscribe to a particular doctrine. (And yes, I realize that this is often what makes church church.) The general vibe of the services I have attended seemed to be: "Hey, it's more important that we come together as a community and celebrate the earth's broad spectrum of beliefs and philosophies than to split hairs over specific doctrines." Sure, the Unitarian church has a set of principles, but anyone can belong (even agnostics and humanists), and many religious traditions inform the service. During one particular service, I recall listening to readings from Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony, and at least two different holy books. So, yes, like the joke, it offered a great opportunity to introduce our children to church services without feeling dishonest about it.

Apart from being funny, the joke pinpoints a growing phenomenon in our society. Many people who were brought up in a major denomination are no longer affiliated with that denomination. Secularity is growing in all regions of the country. These people are otherwise normal people, and like religious folks, they are creating families. When their children reach the age where they start to be introduced to religious ideas, parents have to make some choices, and that presents some challenges and is a source of anxiety to many.

There are any number of ways to go about it, and I don't think that any of them are wrong. I personally know of married couples from "incompatible" religious backgrounds (I use the term "incompatible" in a purely doctrinal sense, since the couples themselves are actually quite compatible) who are no longer formally affiliated with either religion and raise their children in somewhat secular households where the children are exposed to both traditions. I also know of formerly religious married couples who are no longer very religious -- but choose to raise their children in the same structured religious background they experienced growing up. These are only a few examples of different approaches I have seen personally. Neither is more or less correct than the other.

Some of the more vocal non-believers have gone so far as to say that some forms of religious upbringing constitute child abuse.

Richard Dawkins has stated:

"Innocent children are being saddled with demonstrable falsehoods...It's time to question the abuse of childhood innocence with superstitious ideas of hellfire and damnation. Isn't it weird the way we automatically label a tiny child with its parents' religion?" 

Elsewhere he has stated:

"What can it mean to speak of a child's 'own' religion? Imagine a world in which it was normal to speak of a Keynesian child, a Hayekian child, or a Marxist child. Or imagine a proposal to pour government money into separate primary schools for Labour children, Tory children, LibDem children and Monster Raving Loony children? Everyone agrees that small children are too young to know whether they are Keynesian or Monetarist, Labour or Tory, too young to bear the burden of such labels. Why, then, is our entire society happy to slap a label like Catholic or Protestant, Muslim or Jew, on a tiny child? Isn't that, when you think about it, a kind of mental child abuse?" 

While Dawkins certainly makes some interesting, if abrasive, points, he tends to focus only on those parents who actually use the threat of hellfire in their child-rearing, or who go out of their way to label their children. As someone who grew up in a quite moderate religious household, I realize that many parents do not fit his description. However, as offensive as Dawkins' comments may be to some, it is worth asking ourselves if young children should be saddled with the theological concepts of eternal damnation, Satan, the Trinity, crucifixion, and the resurrection. It's an interesting thought experiment to imagine which religious label your child might wear if she were somehow birthed to parents in Kabul or Tel Aviv.

Obviously, for many who are religious, it is a no-brainer: the child will be taught at an early age to believe as the parents believe, because it is "true," is integral to the teaching of morality, and, as many believe, it is important to dedicate an infant to their own brand of religion (through Baptism or other rituals) as soon as possible, in the case of a an untimely childhood death.

However, for many of us who are not religious, or who do not subscribe to supernatural beliefs, these "no-brainers" do not apply. Morality predates the onset of monotheism, and evolved to promote community cohesiveness. Even today, it is important to be good for goodness' sake, for it is difficult to flourish in a society if one goes about murdering, lying, and cheating. And as for dedicating a child to a religion in the case of death -- with no evidence for an afterlife, humanists do not concern themselves with that 'what if.' Furthermore, even if there is a god, if a young child is sentenced to an eternal afterlife of hellfire, then, quite honestly, that god is a tyrannical monster.

Let me start by telling you what we don't do: We don't read Sam Harris and Christopher Hitchens books to them. We don't challenge their school's use of "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance. We don't pull our kids out of daycare because a prayer is said before lunch. We don't send them to school in a Flying Spaghetti Monster t-shirt on class picture day.  And we don't send them to atheist summer camp.

Despite our lack of religiosity as parents, we believe that it is of utmost importance to raise religiously literate children. Unless your children are homeschooled, or otherwise isolated from interacting frequently with others, they will stumble into any number of religious conversations, or be asked religious questions.  They will ask questions themselves. Religion informs every aspect of life on earth: politics, science, war, foreign policy, popular culture, law, education, art, literature, music, and so on. The histories and the beliefs of world religions are as important as the histories and political systems of governments.

In my family, although we don't pray or belong to a church, we do not shield our children from religion. We discuss it often. As various religious holidays approach, we learn about them together. We will often take part in religious activities, from a variety of religious traditions, and use these moments as an opportunity to explore the beliefs of different religions. We discuss the parts of the world where these traditions originate (and even when and why they may have originated). We take note of people here in our own community who may observe different religious holidays. We find ways to find meaning in these varying traditions as they might relate to our own lives, or as they relate to the people who practice said religion. We use opportunities, like the death of a pet, or a natural disaster, to discuss various religious ideas about suffering, death and dying.  As parents, we try to always say, "Many people believe this," or "Nobody knows for sure." And when we are asked point blank by our children, "What do you believe?" we are honest with them. Most often we respond that we are not certain ourselves, which is entirely true. Or we may state that we have a hard time accepting X or Y based on what we know about the universe. We ask our children from time to time if they would like to attend a church, or if they ever feel different for not belonging to one. Like many parents, we would do most anything (within reason) for our children, and we would not draw the line at taking them to church, if that were what they wanted.  But one thing we don't do as parents is state definitively that there is no God.  We wish to promote critical thinking and self-exploration, and want them to draw their own conclusions if and when they feel comfortable doing so.

We acknowledge the comfort that can come with certain beliefs ("It is nice to think that our pets and loved ones go to a wonderful place when they die, isn't it?"), without stating that whether this is true or false (how can we say for sure?) We may state that Grandma or Grandpa believes X or Y, or that this uncle or that aunt believes A or B. The important message is that all of these people whom we love believe many similar things, but they also may have some beliefs that are very different.

When it comes to holidays, as parents of Christian heritage, we participate to some degree in Christmas, Easter, and other Christian traditions. We talk about the stories from scripture associated with these holidays. If asked about whether these stories are true, we don't provide any definitive answer, but will state that many people do believe that these are true stories, whereas others believe they contain varying elements of myth. We will ask our children to think critically about the stories when they ask, and we support them if and when they wish to believe they are true.

Although we may not be practicing Christians, this is our heritage, and this connects us to our families and to our ancestors prior to their arrival in America. And certainly there is the power of nostalgia. Who does not like to revisit the feelings associated with joyful moments from our childhood? Christmas is a beautiful tradition, full of hope, joy, and peace. And to those who feel that by participating we are co-opting or secularizing their holiday, I would remind them that this 'co-opting' occurs with any number of holidays and cultural celebrations. Christians are certainly allowed to participate in the pagan Halloween ritual. And non-Irish folks can wear green on St. Patrick's Day and drink green beer if they desire.  It should also be pointed out that many of the Christmas rituals that my family takes part in (decorations, gift-giving, lights, etc.) predate the Christmas holiday, and were adopted from other winter festivals. Not that we need this as an excuse to participate in holiday rituals that have been in our families for generations and generations, but people often do like to point out what they see as 'have your cake and eat it too' hypocrisy.

We don't feel that we are in any way denying our children the opportunity to will be religious.  In fact, we would argue the opposite. Their religious beliefs, like ours, will be determined by their life experiences, and by the knowledge they accumulate as they navigate through these experiences. They know what God means to most people.  They know many of the key figures of The Bible and many of the more popular (and age-appropriate) narratives.  They know about Ramadan and Hanukkah.  They know about Buddha. They know about Zeus. We do our best to provide them with the tools to make their own decisions, but most importantly we hope to instill in them the understanding that religion comes in many forms.  It can be the source of much good in the world, and, like anything else, it can also be used to promote suffering.  We teach them that they must respect those who use religion for good, and that they must stand up for those who are unfairly maligned or who suffer unjustly as a result of religious beliefs. We reassure them that it is okay if their views on religion change over time, that their religious beliefs will continue to evolve throughout their entire lives, that they should never feel ashamed by their beliefs, and they should respect those who believe differently.

Many argue that by raising children in such a way does not ground them, or leads to confusion or a lack of identity. Or that they will be less likely to do good deeds if there is no promise of reward or punishment.  I would respond by stating that knowledge, literacy, open-mindedness, and compassion serve as a fine foundation for a child to shape their identity. Inherent in these traits is the understanding that to minimize suffering in the world is an imperative. To do harm is to ostracize yourself from your fellow human beings, and to cause destruction to the earth is to deny your descendants the same good fortune you have been afforded.  These are axioms on which a moral framework can be based. These ideas are far from being arbitrary or subjective. They are universal and nearly every religion in existence shares this framework. If and when a child aligns herself with a religious belief system, there is no requirement to undo the framework that is already in place. In short, this is a foundation on which one can layer any religious belief or philosophy.

Some religious folks might argue that it is our duty to impose religious beliefs on our children which we believe to be true. Many believe that we must plant the seeds early or perhaps lose them to a life without God.  I would respond to this by stating that if a religion is "true," then it should find its way to one who is navigating  life with compassion, critical thinking skills, and an open mind. And, just as a child who is taught at a young age that their race is better than another, a child who is taught that their religion is "better" or "truer" than the others is primed for prejudice before they have developed an awareness of religious diversity.

I am a liberal, Democrat, Red Sox fan, with an affinity for literature and coffee. I would not love my sons any less if they grew up to be Republican Yankee season ticket holders with no stomach for books or caffeine, as long as they got there honestly through life experience and critical thought. (Actually, I take that thing back about the Yankees.)

At the end of the day, we will be the first to admit that our approach may be experimental in some regards.  At times, we completely wing it. We absolutely are aware that, in some ways, our children may have a harder time than we did as a result of our approach. That is certainly not lost on us. As parents, both of us are raising our children, as it relates to religion, differently than either of us were raised by our own parents. And it is important to note that neither of us feel at all that our parents went about it the wrong way. For if they had not raised us the way they did, we would not be the people we are now. We would not have found each other, and we would not have had these wonderful children. Without the upbringing we each had, we would not have developed the confidence, the compassion, or the intuition to navigate this uncharted territory.

Luckily, secular parents have more resources today than they have had at any time in history.  Dale McGowan has edited and co-authored two wonderful books on non-religious parenting, Parenting Beyond Belief and Raising Freethinkers. The actress and comedienne Julia Sweeney has a fantastic one-woman show, Letting Go of God, in which she details with great compassion, insight, and humor her transition from Catholic nun-wannabe to secular adult and parent. There are secular parenting groups, charities, and other organizations popping up all across the globe. There are blogs, forums, and seminars. But as any parent would tell you, religious or not, parenting is something that, for the most part, does not come from a book.  And as John Lennon said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

When it comes down to it, all parents want the same thing: to raise healthy, compassionate children, and to equip them with all the tools they need to navigate through life. All of us are trying to do it as honestly as we can. This is just one of those ways.

Ask a Humanist

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
• Vol 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?
• Vol 7: Isn't It Hypocritical For A Non-Believer To Celebrate Christmas?