Religion and Criticism: How Much Is Too Much?

Right now, I should be getting ready to go back to school. I’m leaving tomorrow and yet I still have not packed everything that I’m going to need. I have chores to do before I go back. If nothing else, I could be studying for the GRE. But I have other things on my mind…

How much is too much? This is a question that I’ve been asking myself a lot lately in regards to criticism of religion, particularly Christianity. I started asking myself this question after I read Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s Infidel. At the time that I read it, my interest in de-conversion was mild. It’s something I’ll probably always be interested in. It will always be a significant part of my life, but my interest in it waxes and wanes periodically. But reading the book sparked my interest again. Also, in preparing for a class I’m going to start soon, I was reading some essays on religion by Emile Durkheim. My interest flared up even more.

One of the things that Hirsi Ali and Durkheim have both been criticized for, in their times, is for saying too much about religion. The thing is that what they both say is so glaringly obvious that people tend to overlook it, but when an astute observer points it out, it can’t be ignored. It’s true and it’s there and it’s not going away. And a lot of people don’t like the fact that somebody brought it to everyone else’s attention. A lot of people get offended, even though people like Hirsi Ali and Durkheim usually don’t mean to offend. They’re just honestly asking some questions and honestly describing the world as they see it. They say what they mean with no hidden motive and no malice. It’s just that this kind of truthfulness offends some people, usually the people who would like to pretend that these kinds of truths don’t exist.

And yet these kinds of truths do exist and there’s a lot that I’d like to say about them, but I don’t know how to say it. I want to discuss things in a way that promotes dialogue between opposing sides. I’d like to discuss things in a way that can bring people together, not separate them. I’d like to discuss things in a mature and open way that brings out the best in people. I certainly don’t want to engage in name-calling or stereotyping. I don’t want to engage in what I call “pointing-and-laughing.” (You’ve seen these types of blogs or heard these kinds of discussions. They usually begin with, “Hey? Have you heard what this group who disagrees with us is saying now? Ha ha! It’s that just ridiculous? How could they think that way? Ha ha!” I do this sometimes, but I don’t want to blog like this. These kinds of discussions really aren’t discussions. They involve no explanation or criticism. There’s no attempt to understand the other side’s thinking or clearly define why someone thinks it’s wrong. It’s lazy and appeals only to those who already agree with the writer although it doesn’t even benefit those agree because it doesn’t help them reach a deeper understanding of their position. We all do it sometimes, but at the end of the day, it gets us nowhere.)

Of course, at the same time, I realize that what I want to say is probably going to offend somebody somewhere simply because some people can’t take anything objectively. Extremists and fundementalists aren’t going to like my opinions, and nothing that I say will probably change their opinions. That’s fine. But at the same time, I don’t want to come off as being opposed to all religions in all degrees. Really, as long as religious doctrines do not supercede compassion and empathy and common sense or one’s sense of self and dignity, I have no problem with religion. I am perfectly okay with religious moderates, liberals, and pluralists. I don’t want to join them, but they do not offend me, and I don’t wish to offend them.

But at the same time, I don’t want to censor myself, which is what I’ve found myself doing lately. There are some things about religion that I’ve been wanting to say, some good (The Evangelical Lutheran Church of America finally decided to ordain homosexuals! Yay!), some bad (Okay religious right, the way that you have been treating President Obama is just totally unfair), some might be offensive to some people (all evidence seems to point to the Bible being the work of men and not of divine inspiration), and some is just personal (Look, Mom and Dad, I love you very much, but…). And I mean none of this to be disrespectful. I’m not angry. I don’t have some hidden agenda. I don’t hate religious people and I don’t wish that they would shut up. I just want to say what I think without anyone, myself included, censoring what I have to say.

I just had to get that off my chest. Pretty much, what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to talk about religion and my thoughts about it more. However, I want to keep what I have to say rational, respectful, open-minded, and moderate. And above all, I don’t want to categorize people or judge people purely based on their religious affiliations. I really don’t like criticizing things. I’d rather mention the good of a postmodern existential existence than constantly gripe about the problems of religion. At the same time, though, there’s some stuff that I want to say, and I don’t want to stop myself from saying it, and if I get out of line, that’s why I have a blog. So somebody can leave me a comment and tell me why they think I’ve gone too far.

Okay, now that I’ve said that, I really need to go pack. Have a wonderful day, everyone!

The Beauty Industry Makes Idiots of Us All: What the Iranian Protests Have Taught Me About American Standards of Beauty

Before I begin this post, I have to apologize to my mother. She is a wonderful, caring, intelligent, and creative woman. This post does not represent her as she is all of the time, and it’s meant to be more of a reflection on society and its values than it is on my mother personally.

With that being said, something happened this week that made me a little disturbed. On Thursday last week, my parents and I were watching the national news on TV, which was covering the protests over the “election” in Iran. For those of you who haven’t been following Iran’s election, here’s what was going on: Protestors, dressed in green, were peacefully marching down the streets. They were causing no one any harm. They were not violent. They merely wanted a right that we Americans take for granted–the right to have free and fair election of their president. They believed that Mahmoud Ahmadinejhad had been unfairly elected and they wanted a new election rescheduled. The Iranian government responded harshly to the protestors’ peaceful march, and the news coverage was grim. People were being beaten, some to death, by police. (If you would like to see videos of protests and get more information, follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdK35ZkbdIc&feature=related.)

I was watching this and feeling sickened. I was also hoping, fruitlessly I knew, that the Supreme Leader would let a new and fair election be held. (He declared on Friday that he would do no such thing.) My point is, my reaction to this was horror at what was happening to these protestors and hope that their sacrifices would not be in vain. I was thinking these thoughts as the news showed footage of the marchers in the city, when my mother said, “They’re all so thin! They look the way Americans used to look back in the ’70’s!” (And when my mother said “thin,” she meant “attractive.” Trust me, I’ve heard my mom bemoan her weight, which, by the way, is perfectly normal. I’ve watched her go on ridiculous diets. And I’ve heard her compliment her friends on losing weight. When my mom says “thin,” it means “beautiful.”)

I could only stare at my mother. People are being killed because they want the freedom to fairly choose their country’s president. People are bravely defying their government. People are risking their lives for a cause that they believe in. And my mother’s only thought is, “These people are good-looking”?!

I’ve read Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth. I’ve read Germaine Greer’s The Whole Woman  and Eve Ensler’s The Good Body. And I never quite believed them when they said that all of our society’s concern about women’s appearances is a red herring to keep women from thinking about serious things, like actually taking on positions of authority in society. I never quite believed that all of this worry about women being beautiful enough could really serve to totally distract women from important things going on in the world. Surely, I always thought, women are smart enough that even if they do worry too much about which brand of foundation to buy, they can also think about things like the global economy, the environment, international affairs, and other important topics.

But now I’ve seen a women watch people protesting a rigged election and can only say, “They’re so thin [attractive]!” Really? Is that all she can think about? Never mind the political implications that these protests have for Iranian politics. Never mind what gains Iranian women could make if a new election is held and Mir-Hossein Mousavi becomes Iran’s new president. Never mind what effect this election is having on global politics. None of that is nearly as important as the fact that the protestors are thin and attractive! Yes! That is what we should take away from all the news coverage and YouTube videos of these protestors! They are good looking, so who cares about what they are actually trying to accomplish! I can only sigh, shake my head, and wonder how in the world someone could watch people literally dying because they want freedom and change and only think about what these people look like!

Sadly, I don’t have to wonder too much. Undoubtedly, at some point, there was a commercial break, and our household was invaded by ads for beauty creams, makeup, bras, lingerie, and God know what else women desperately need because they will be UGLY-terrified shrieks–without these products! And, oh my Lord, being ugly is the worst thing that could ever happen to a woman! No, seriously, it is. Our society tells women that if they are not beautiful enough, no one will love them. No one will care about them. No one will respect them or treat them with kindness. They will not be able to advance in their jobs because, statistically speaking, more attractive people are more likely to get promotions. In other words, without beauty, a woman can have nothing. If you’d been told this message from the day you were born and for your entire life, you’d be terrified too. You’d waste your money and time on the anti-aging creams (none of which work) and StairMasters.

So what do we women do? We buy make-up. We buy clothes. We buy diet products and exercise machines. We spend money on gym memberships and workout clothes. We consume Slim-Fast and other brand name low-fat, low-calorie, tasteless bars of something that is not nutrients.

And the waste of money isn’t even the most disturbing part. What’s even more disturbing is how much we women hate ourselves. No matter how we look, there is always something wrong. We are never enough. We are never good enough. We are never perfect enough. Women spend their lives consumed by self-loathing because they don’t look like supermodels. Guess what, ladies? Supermodels don’t look like supermodels either. They spend hours having their hair done and their make-up applied by professionals. They have special photographers who take pictures of them from just the right angles. Then, these pictures are sent to computer labs. This is where the woman in the picture, who was previously just a woman with a lot of makeup and hairspray, becomes a supermodel. The computer trims baggy thighs, lifts sagging cheeks, smoothes wrinkles, and plumps thin lips. Then this image can be smeared on a billboard or copied onto a magazine and women all over the country can be told that unless they look exactly like that picture, they are not beautiful.

The standards of beauty for women in the West are absurd! Even worse, they are set down at the only definition of beauty. There is no definitive definition of beauty. The definition of beauty is a social construct. When I was a little girl, I had a book of Russian fairytales in which the heroines of these stories were always described as “plump and lovely and ladylike.” They were a far cry from the Disney princesses that I saw on TV. (These Russian fairytale princesses were also unusual in the fact that they often actually did things to try to save themselves from their horrid situations instead of sitting by wishing wells and humming, “Someday my prince will come…”) What beauty is changes from society to society. It even changes within societies! There is nothing inherently beautiful about big boobs, a miniscule waste, and blond hair. That is only considered beautiful because our society says that it is beautiful.

And, because beauty is just a social construct, it can change. We can decide that our society needs a more inclusive view of beauty–a view of beauty that allows all women to be beautiful. Ladies, however you look–fat, thin, average, flat-chested, full-chested, big thighs, no thighs, normal thighs, thin lips, full lips, asymmetrical lips, green eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes, grey eyes, thick hair, thin hair, grey hair, brown hair, red hair, blond hair–tell yourself that you are beautiful every time you look in the mirror. Tell yourself that you love your body. It will feel false and ridiculous at first, but eventually you will start to believe yourself, I promise. Do things that make you feel good as a person, as a woman. Appreciate yourself and your body. Eat what makes you happy, not what you think will make you thin. You are beautiful, and you are deserving of love and respect, no matter what you look like. And girls, do we really want to be like supermodels? Look at that idiot Carrie Prejean! I would hope that we’d all aspire to something more than that.

Not that this is all women’s faults. We buy into it, yes, but men certainly don’t help us fight against it. There are men out there who pressure their wives and girlfriends to be skinnier, prettier, more exciting. These men are just assholes who should be glad that they have any sort of female companion, because if they keep treating her so badly, they’re going to lose her. There are men who look at porn and expect their wives/girlfriends and their sex lives to be just like what they see in videos or in Playboy, never mind that pornography does not represent a realistic or even desirable image of what sex should be like. These men need to grow up. And women, why do we even want to please jerks like these guys? Why should be pander to their immature fantasies? They don’t deserve us. (There are also some wonderful men out there who treat women with respect and realize that what our society says about sex and beauty is all a sham. I applaud these men.)

So, instead of worrying about how we look, we women should learn to love ourselves and be happy with our bodies exactly as they are. Then maybe we can start worrying about more important things, like the Iranian protestors, for instance.

Happy Father’s Day!

Just a quick shout-out to all of the dads out there: Happy father’s day! Spend the day trying to be a good role model for your children. They’re looking up to you, whether you realize it or not.

“Daddy”

“You do not do you do not do/Anymore black shoe/In which I have lived like a foot…”–Sylvia Plath, “Daddy”

I was going to do a post on reincarnation, but then my dad sent me this article:

http://www.philly.com/philly/entertainment/20090607_A_new_entry_in_the_God_Debate.html

Summary for those of you who, like me, don’t always read the links because you’re too lazy or don’t have time: The article is a book review of Reason, Faith, and Revolution: Reflections on the God Debate by Terry Eagleton. I haven’t read it, so I can only respond to what the article says about it. However, I’m pretty sure that my dad hasn’t read it either. I’m also fairly sure that my dad hasn’t read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, which Eagleton argues against in his book. First, according to the article, Eagleton speaks against Dawkins’s attack on fundamentalists, who do, according to Eagleton, deserve the attacks that they get. Eagleton, though, believes that Dawkins assumes that all religious people are fundamentalists. This sets up an easy target for Dawkins. Eagleton then goes on to argue that Dawkins completely misses the point because, according to Eagleton, the debate isn’t about whether or not there’s a God at all! The real issue, Eagleton claims, is about the Gospels and the transformative love and courage that are portrayed in them.

Okay, here’s my response: To the first part, yes, religious fundamentalism (and I really ought to do a post on properly defining that, but if I try to get into it now, I’ll just go off on a tangent, so it will have to wait) is a straw man. And, yes, I agree that Dawkins takes it a bit too far when he says that we should do away with religion entirely. I agree that we don’t need to go that far. This world could be a happy and harmonious place with religion.  However, if that is going to happen, even some religious “moderates” need to make some radical changes to their views on the world and their interactions with other religions and groups of people. For instance, the moderate stance on issues like gay rights is hardly better than the fundamentalist one.  However, this certainly doesn’t give the atheists the right to be as nasty as the fundamentalists. If the atheists want religious people to behave more tolerantly towards them, then they atheists should behave more tolerantly towards the religious people. I agree that there has been too much hatred on both sides and it’s not getting anyone anywhere.

It’s Eagleton’s introduction of the Gospels into the debate that bothers me. First of all, if you’re going to set out to disprove the existence of God, the Gospels are sort of irrelevant, aren’t they? I mean, yes, they do contain some good sayings about loving other people and being kind, but the power that they hold for Christians rests on the existence of a God that could divinely inspire these Gospels. If you’ve disproven that God exists (and, no, I don’t think that Dawkins has done that conclusively), then the Gospels are a moot point. And as to Eagleton saying that faith is “not about subscribing to some supernatural entity”…isn’t that the very definition of faith? Maybe Eagleton explains his definition more clearly in his book. As I said, I don’t know because I haven’t read it. Also, Christians use the Gospels to assert that Jesus was God’s Son. Well, if you’ve proven that there is no God, then this nonexistent God certainly can’t have a son. So, I would say to Eagleton that the Gospels are not the big question in the God debate. If you’re setting out to prove that there is no God, then proving that there is no God makes the Gospels anything more than a collection of books that were written by human beings at a specific point in time. Yes, they have some nice sayings in them, but that’s all they are. The world would indeed be a better place is we all loved our enemies and did unto others as we would have them do unto us.

And this is where I don’t follow Eagleton. He talks about transformative love and courage. They are lovely words, but what do they really mean? Maybe he explains them more in his book, but just from reading the article, I must say that I don’t know what he’s talking about. The article says that he doesn’t endorse his own beliefs, but I’ll hazard a guess that he’s saying that with Jesus in your heart, you are transformed by God’s love and can share that love with other people. This would be so nice, except I’ve never seen it. I have seen no difference between the kind of love that Christians have and the kind that nonChristians have. Both groups can be incredibly kind, cheerful in the direst circumstances, generous, encouraging, and helpful. Both groups can also be petty, backbiting, cruel, short tempered, and narrow-minded. If there is something transformative about Christians love, than I have never seen it. More than likely, it doesn’t exist, and Christians are just like regular people with regular human natures that can be very bad and also much, much better than we give them credit for.

What really bothers me about Eagleton’s argument is that he seems to be saying indirectly, “Atheists cannot have any concept of love. They cannot have any concept of courage or virtue. In fact, the notion that they display such virtues is so hateful to them that they must set up the straw man of fundamentalism in order to argue against such virtues and make themselves look smart.” It’s ridiculous to think that nonChristians cannot have any concept of virtue, as I’ve already explained. And, trust me, it’s not Jesus’ message of love and kindness that offends people like Richard Dawkins. It’s the fact that Christians don’t exemplify this message any more than the average human, Christian or nonChristian, does and then claim to have the ultimate truth that offends them.

On a more personal note, I’m sort of hurt that my dad sent me this article. Well, I’m not hurt by the fact that he sent me the article. By that I’m simply confused. Does he expect me to go running out into the living room shouting, “Dad! You sent me that article disproving everything that Richard Dawkins has said! I’m going to become a Christian again! Yahoo!” ? Please. Richard Dawkins actually had nothing to do with my de-conversion. I didn’t read The God Delusion until after I’d de-converted, and in the process of my de-conversion, it took me more than one book to turn my back on Christianity.

What does hurt me is the fact that, I guess, my dad seems to have no interest in talking with me about my de-conversion. Of course, I didn’t expect him to, but if he’d surprised me and shown some interest in discussing it with me face-to-face, I’d have been thrilled.  And when I say “discussion,” I mean discussion and not argument. Sadly, I’m not sure if my dad can see the difference between these two. If I did sit down with him and say, “Dad, I want to talk to you about religion and why I’ve decided not to be a Christian anymore,” he would immediately turn the conversation into an argument. He would have to prove himself right, and he would show no interest in my thoughts and feelings about the issue. He wouldn’t be able to put his own biases aside long enough just to understand me. He wouldn’t be able to say, “Okay, pumpkin, I guess we disagree about some things, but at least we each understand where we’re coming from.” I can’t imagine him opening his mind up enough to do that.

This makes me very sad, because I’d love to have that kind of conversation with my dad. Soon after I stopped considering myself a Christian, I made a list of questions about religion that I want to ask my dad. These questions had nothing to do with trying to make him de-convert too. They weren’t written with the intent of challenging him on them. They were simply things that my dad believes that I’d never understood and I’d like to understand them simply so that I could get to know my dad as a person better. I’d love to have almost any kind of conversation with my dad, actually. We have a lot in common, but we never seem to be able to get past the mundane topics like our daily routines, music, movies, and TV shows. When I try to talk to my dad about any subject deeper than this, he usually hands me a book and tells me to go read it. Anytime I had a theological question to ask him, his answer was always, “Read this.” It was kind of impersonal, especially because he would never even discuss the books with me after I read them!

I’m also hurt because I’m wondering if my dad sees me the way that Eagleton seems to see Dawkins—a nonbeliever incapable of virtue. C’mon, Dad! You raised me better than that! Give yourself some credit! My parents raised me to be considerate of other people, to care about other people and to think about how my actions affect their feelings. Instead of giving me a bunch of rules to memorize and calling it morality, my parents taught me how to think morally. They taught me how to reason my way through a situation so that, when I ran into situations where there were no rules, I could still make moral choices. Guess what, Dad? You raised me so well that I can still behave morally without God always looking over my shoulder and threatening me with Hell if I’m bad. You did a better job than most Christian parents that I know, and you should be proud of yourself for that.

Ironically, my dad, the epitome of reason, rationality, and critical thinking, was the person who taught me how to think in such a way that it led to my de-conversion. From as young as the age of six, I can remember my dad trying to teach me math problems and yelling, “Think!” at me. It was a command that I have taken seriously all of my life, probably more seriously than my dad realizes. My whole life I have tried to be smart, to think, to reason. I have tried to be as logical and intelligent as a Vulcan because that is the kind of thinking that my dad required in that one-word command. My dad was the first person to introduce me to the concept of critical thinking—the idea that you can’t take everything you read at face value. You have to examine the facts, gather all the information that you need, study the issue from all sides, and then make a decision. Well, when I started questioning Christianity, I did just that. I questioned it on its stance on gay rights. I questioned it on its stance on feminism. I questioned it on its stance on Hell. Finally, I questioned it on its stance that the Bible is the infallible word of God. I questioned its insistence that it is the only path to God and the only way to salvation. I questioned its assertion that it was the final revelation of God. I did exactly what my dad taught me to do. I looked at the facts. I gathered the information that I needed. I examined the issues from all sides. Then I made up my mind, and my conclusions were very different from my dad’s.

However, just because I’ve rejected my religion doesn’t mean that I want to reject my family. I still love them. I still respect them. I still want to spend time with them and talk with them. I feel the same way about my Christian friends. If religion was the only thing that we ever had linking us, then we didn’t have a very strong relationship to begin with. I’d like to think that my relationships with my family and friends are stronger than that.