A fews days ago, I met this elderly jewish man, with such a personaltity. He said that he was 8 years old when he was in the concentration camp. His stories amazed me.
Anyway, as it turns out, he is now an atheist. This was really intriguing to me. We talked for hours and then he gave me a newsletter from his secular humanist group.
There was a very interesting article about how we (atheists) respond to everyday in-your-face religion. I thought that some of you might find this interesting. It actually made me think about how I react to religious people in general.
IN-YOUR-FACE RELIGION and how to deal with it
In the June issue of the Voice of Sanity, a letter writer deplored those religious ceremonies and rites that make us Secular Humanists feel awkward and out of place. The writer said he often feels “quietly furious” and is sometimes “raging inside.” Haven’t a lot of us felt that way at one time or another?
A few years ago, I was a juror on a murder trial in Greenville, SC. The foreman opened the first deliberation session with, “Let’s begin with prayer.” In situations like that, I’m usually the only one looking around while other heads are bowed. This time, though, my eyes met those of a pudgy, graying man whose eyes looked too large behind his thick glasses. He raised his eyebrows and pulled back the corners of his mouth as if to say, “Here we go again.”
At the next break we introduced ourselves. He was Ed Bryson from Mauldin, SC. (I’ve changed his name.) He told me he was “irreligious.“ Not hostile, he just avoids religion. The Voice of Sanity letter reminded me of talking with Ed about the same kinds of incidents. This is what I recall from those chats. We felt there are two issues at hand when our mood gets out of kilter over a religious incident. First, why does it bother us? Second, how do we handle the situation?
Formal events such as weddings, bar mitzvahs, and funerals are mostly private affairs. Ed and I agreed that we should never disrupt them. Irreverent grandstanding would be rude and thoughtless. Nevertheless, if anxiety or anger wells up when we decline to take part in a group rite, such as communion, it may be helpful to understand why. Are we anxious because we don’t know what to do or don’t want to be seen as different? Are we angry because we’re forced to brand ourselves as outsiders to be true to our non-belief? The truth is, if we quietly step aside during communion, it’s unlikely anyone would give us a second thought.
Ed once made the point that there are usually three kinds of people at an organized religious exercise. There are those who have a role, such as shamans, Buddhist monks, rain dancers, priests, rabbis, and so on. Then, there are those who have an affinity for the rituals but take part only in whole-group exercises such as dancing or singing. Finally, there may be visitors who observe the exercise with an attitude of, “Well, isn’t that interesting!” Ed could have added a fourth group, the “quietly furious.”
If we can develop the objective, “isn’t that interesting,” attitude of visitors, we could view Judeo- Christianity as we would any other strange culture. We could be respectful of the beliefs, customs, and rites without being active participants and without vocal, angry protest. Silence alone does not condone. We shouldn’t assume that others think our silence means we approve, and insist on setting them straight.
We should attract others to Secular Humanism through compassion and fine example, never through loud outrage, unless we want others to dismiss us as nothing more than a band of roused rabble.
For believers, their beliefs are the lens through which they see everything. Those beliefs are their hope, their anchor, and their solace in hard times. Their beliefs may even protect them from unacknowledged fears. Nothing will be gained by trying to prove them wrong except their undying disagreement and rancor.
Ed and I both grumbled about those gratuitous religious practices that are thrust upon us in secular settings, such as happened in the jury room at the opening of deliberations. No one ever asks if anyone objects to praying. They just launch into it. Why does that bother us? Is it that we feel we’re being taken for granted? Do we feel trapped and resentful because someone has forced his or her beliefs on us, and we have no escape? Do we feel hypocritical because we’re angry over the gratuitous rite but unwilling to object out loud?
Ed and I agreed that those of us who are bothered should pinpoint the reason. Is it only Judeo-Christian incidents that perturb us or is it all religious expression? Do some religious exercises intrigue us while others nettle? Would a Hindu ceremony or a Hopi rain dance bother us?
If a Nepalese woman turned to us on the street, put her palms together just below her chin, bowed slightly and murmured something we didn’t understand, would we be quietly furious? Or would we, as a courtesy, try to mimic her gesture? Perhaps we’d shrug and force a smile, which always conveys, “I have no idea what you just said or how to respond.” What if her soft words meant, “The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you”? Would we rage inside if we understood?
It’s likely we’d be intrigued by the Nepalese woman’s unfamiliar, religious expression but furious at the Christian who brassily opens a secular event with prayer. If so, doesn’t that question our consistency? Because in both cases, we’ve had someone’s beliefs forced upon us.
When someone thrusts a gratuitous rite upon us in a secular setting, we have choices. We can be quietly furious, or we can be objective visitors in a strange culture, or we can politely point out that the rite isn’t appropriate. What’s the worst that could happen if we did speak up?
In A Guide to Rational Living, Albert Ellis says other people don’t upset us. We upset ourselves by the way we react to other people. He might have extended that to include religious rites. No rite, by itself, is upsetting; we upset ourselves by the way we react to it.
If we always react with quiet fury or silent rage, we’re handing over control of our behavior and emotions to the religionists. That’s unthinkable. Since we are in charge of our own reactions, or should be, we can choose to react without belligerence and without emotional distress. We can think, “Well, isn’t that interesting!”
Whatever you do, be sure it’s kind, and be sure it’s necessary.
— Chuck Wuest
Their website is http://www.uscsh.org
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