Religion and I

My parents were Protestants, but rarely attended church. I never went to Sunday School, but always said a prayer before going to bed. When I was young, it was always the well-known (but morbid) prayer from the 18th century:

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Amen.

At some point, I graduated to the Lord’s Prayer. As best I can remember, it was the long Protestant one with “debts” and “debtors”, instead of “trespass” and “trespasses”, and the extra praise at the end:

Our Father who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
And forgive us our debts
As we forgive our debtors;
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom
And the power
And the glory,
Forever.

Amen.

By the way, did you know that “amen” is roughly translated as “so be it” and that it came from Hebrew, or maybe Aramaic, through Greek and Latin and then to us? In other words, just like the rest of the Bible.

Then one night when I was 13 or so, in the grip of burgeoning skepticism or adolescent rebelliousness, I decided not to recite my nightly prayer. It felt like a major step. I’d never felt religious, except maybe around Christmas. But I wondered whether going straight to sleep would mean I’d end up in Hell. (Obviously, the jury is still out.) I think I’d concluded that God probably doesn’t exist. For roughly ten years, I’d simply been talking to myself, rather like Peter O’Toole in The Ruling Class:

Lady Claire Gurney: “How do you know you’re God?”

Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney, 14th Earl of Gurney: “Simple. When I pray to Him, I find I am talking to myself.”

Within a few years, I was studying philosophy and my skepticism increased. Philosophers are trained to question assumptions and offer evidence. Citing tradition or faith as justification for one’s views isn’t enough. Plus, the philosophical arguments for the existence of God are uniformly weak. As a rule, therefore, philosophy is hard on religion. So much for religion, for the next twenty years.

Then, however, I began thinking about religion again – not because I wanted to become religious, but because I wanted to understand its popularity. Where did religion come from? Why do so many people take it so seriously? Why, for example, have religious authorities been so concerned about sex?

I began reading about the history of Christianity in particular. I read William James’s The Varieties of Religious Experience, and about the “historical” Jesus, and the Council of Nicea, and several books by the historian of religion, Elaine Pagels. I read about the idea of Satan, and the Gnostics, and Paul’s conflict with Jesus’s brother James.

The conclusion I reached is that the history of Christianity is much more complex than most people realize. What got into the Bible and what is promulgated in church could have turned out very differently if other people had translated or copied the texts or won the arguments about church doctrine. People will say it’s all been decided and documented according to God’s hidden plan. I think it’s much more likely to have been a messy, contingent, unpredictable process, like all other major human endeavors, and there’s nothing supernatural about it.

Probably next time: I found a label for what I believe, and have begun reading the New Testament in a way I never thought of before.

I Am Brian Wilson: A Memoir by Brian Wilson with Ben Greenman

Brian Wilson was the brilliant creative force behind the Beach Boys before his life went sideways. In recent years, he’s had a successful solo career, mainly because he found the right woman to marry and got the mental health treatment he needed.

This memoir is quite good, even better than I expected. Reading it feels like you’re seeing the world from Brian’s perspective, as his recurring thoughts and memories, good and bad, come and go. The book is divided into chapters that bring some organization and chronology to the story, but at times it’s like listening to his stream of consciousness.

Never having heard him speak for any length of time, because he is famously terse in interviews, I wondered if his “voice” was really coming through. I think it was. Brian and his co-writer should be very proud of what they’ve accomplished. They’ve given us an informative look into the mind of this extremely talented man. 

How We Got Here & What To Do

It’s so strange, but I haven’t woken from this nightmare yet. And it’s so realistic, in one sense of that word.

But seriously, Charles Pierce of Esquire has written the best explanation I’ve seen of how we got to this bizarre, dangerous point in our history. It’s called “Russia’s Interference in This Election Should Not Be a Surprise: This kind of thing has been a long time coming”. 

I wish every adult would read it, because it was written for adults, the millions of Americans who are grown up enough and rational enough to perceive reality and then take responsibility for their own and other people’s lives.

If, for example, the 306 Republicans in the Electoral College read it, at least 37 of them might do their duty next Tuesday. They would vote for someone else and let the House of Representatives make the final decision. Otherwise, December 19, 2016 (it’s only one week away) will join the other dates in American history that live in infamy.

So please read Mr. Pierce’s article now. Here it is. It won’t take more than a few minutes.

As Mr. Pierce says, this is the starkest challenge to a free people that has arisen in our lifetimes. So what shall we do?

The first thing you might do is remind the Republican electors of their responsibility to defend the Constitution and protect the United States of America. One patriotic American has created a website with instructions on how to do exactly that. It’s called Direct Election. The site has lots of tools, including letters already addressed to 273 of the 306 Republican electors (the others were hard to locate).

I’m going to start mailing a letter myself, maybe something like this:

Dear …

If you are planning to vote for Mr. Trump on December 19th, or feel obligated to do so, please don’t.

Mr. Trump isn’t a real Republican. He’s not even a real Democrat. He is a dangerous, psychologically-damaged con man who must never become President of our great nation. 

I won’t ask you to vote for a specific person. But I do respectfully ask that you vote for someone other than Mr. Trump. By doing so, you will perform your solemn duty to protect the Constitution and the United States of America.

After all, the Electoral College was designed to forestall the election of a person unfit to be President. That includes anyone who puts his own financial interests or the interests of a foreign power ahead of ours. We need someone who loves America and is both willing and able to fulfill the responsibilities of the job. 

I respectfully submit that Mr. Trump is not such a man. The evidence, including his behavior since winning the election, is clear. You are now our only hope. Thirty-seven of you can let the House of Representatives choose a qualified person. More of you working together can determine who is President. Please vote for anyone else on December 19th.

Please note that any state laws that say an elector must vote a certain way are most likely unconstitutional. Furthermore, thousands of concerned citizens stand ready to pay for any legal fees or fines you might incur, and there are lawyers who have pledged to provide free legal services to any electors who face legal consequences for voting their conscience.

Thank you for reading this letter.

Sincerely yours, and God bless America, …

Assuming the Electoral College fails to do its duty next week, there are other things to do.

First, Timothy Snyder, the Housum Professor of History at Yale University and the author of Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin, offers a “Twenty-Point Guide to Defending Democracy Under a T—p Presidency”. The first item on his list is:

1. Do not obey in advance.

Much of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then start to do it without being asked. You’ve already done this, haven’t you? Stop. Anticipatory obedience teaches authorities what is possible and accelerates unfreedom.

Second, Thomas Geoghagan, a Chicago labor lawyer and author, describes “Four Things We the People Can Do About Our Unjust Voting System and a President Trump”. Three of his four suggestions require legislative action. One would involve states with Democratic majorities agreeing to an interstate compact: 

This interstate compact … would be a quasi-constitution—a model for what the whole country should have. 

Such a compact might include, for example:

  • A ban on partisan redistricting of U.S. House and state legislature positions.
  • A right to healthcare.
  • A commitment to carry out their share of what the U.S. committed to in the Paris global warming accords.
  • A bill of rights for employees, including a right not to be terminated except for just cause.
  • A formula for a just level of funding for public education.
  • A comprehensive system of background checks for gun purchases.

Mr. Geoghagan concludes:

Since each of the above is an act that the state itself would be free to take, an interstate compact would not infringe on federal sovereignty —or require approval of Congress under Article I, section 10. 

Let one part of America, at least, be a city on a hill.

The Scariest Disaster Movie Ever, Plus Some Philosophical-Psychological Analysis

Coming soon to a country near you:

bullshitnado_trump

This terrific poster is from an article at Daily Kos. 

The article at Daily Kos is a summary of another article: “On Bullshit and the Oath of Office: The ‘LOL Nothing Matters’ Presidency”.

The thesis of both articles is that the Orange Menace doesn’t simply lie. He shovels bullshit at an alarming rate. 

And what is the difference between lies and bullshit? The authors cite the distinction made pretty famous by the philosopher Harry Frankfurt:

Lying [is] an act undertaken intentionally to obscure the truth and which therefore must be performed with a knowledge of the facts… Bullshitting [is] an act undertaken without any relationship to truth whatsoever.

Hence, when the Orange Menace claims he was always against the war in Iraq, he might be lying. He knows he wasn’t against it, but wants us to think he was. Or he might be bullshitting. He doesn’t remember what he thought about the war and doesn’t care. Today he says he was against it. Tomorrow he might say he was for it. It’s all bullshit.

Personally, I don’t find Frankfurt’s distinction very helpful. But if pressed to decide, I’d say the O.M. is more of a liar than a bullshitter. The evidence is that his falsehoods are always self-serving. He doesn’t simply make stuff up to fill the air. He makes stuff up that he thinks will make himself look wonderful.

People find it hard to believe he’s merely a liar because he’s such an obvious liar. Rational observers can’t believe anyone outside of an institution can lie so blatantly, so they conclude that he doesn’t know what’s true and what isn’t. 

I conclude that it really doesn’t matter. He lies and bullshits and is mentally ill.