Tag Archives: religion

In re: John Becker on “Indifference”

John Becker from The Bilerico Project demands, with reason, that the rest of us don’t say to survivors of the RCC’s anti-gay abuses two statements which we’re apt to use: what did they expect?” and “why do they belong to an organization that hates them?” 

Well, how else do we who are not or were never raised Catholic respond to a profoundly-undemocratic, intelligence-insulting, hierarchical culture that encourages the firings of church employees over LGBT identity? How do we respond in regards to Mormon excommunications of LGBT people (and feminists)? Or less-episcopalian polities like some rinky-dinky SBC Baptist church?

We’re outside of the culture, and there is no means for us to respond to their behavior except through the civil sphere or the liberal-religious niche outlets like Religion Dispatches, fully knowing that we will not be listened to or considered. So what can we say when our options are limited in communicating to members of a religious sect that their rhetoric is uncivil and bigoted?

Some of us tune them out. We tune out the bald-faced lies and scaremongering apocalypticism. We don’t dissect any of it, or at least we stop trying to dissect it. We just treat it like a bad dream on the periphery of our eyesight.

After so long of angrily tuning it out, we then hear of the firings, the excommunications, the “loyalty oath”-like contracts, and we hear of those turned out of their small lower niche of the religious hierarchy for their LGBT identity or their feminist critique. We wonder “how was I ever in such a position when I’ve lived my life in reality for so long?”

We remember our own subjection to abuse and bigoted rhetoric. Then, freshly recalling the trauma, we ask “what did they expect?” and “why do they belong to an organization that hates them?

We were traumatized. Our intelligence was insulted. But we tuned all of it out. We don’t maintain contact with most members. We ultimately “other” the organization, leading to our wondering about how anyone, including ourselves, could stay in such an organization.

We project our trauma, even with such trauma being distinct in some way from someone else’s experience. Maybe it is not appropriate. Maybe it is an unthinking reflex.

But because we tuned out the experience for our own mental stability, we may not have the proper words, let alone actions, to expressing our solidarity.

What are those words of solidarity? What are those actions of solidarity? What are those expressions which can transcend between my “non-denominational” experience and the experience of those raised in the “Catholic” religion?

And how can we even begin to move forward in that solidarity?

We’re being told that it probably isn’t beneficial to encourage survivors of anti-LGBT abuse to leave their religion altogether, or that it is rather smug to encourage survivors to choose another religion or congregation that is more welcoming. What is the necessary solidarity?

Until these questions are answered, until *real* progress is possible at such levels, our questions of “what did they expect?” and “why do they belong to an organization that hates them?” will be the default.

via LGBT Catholics Deserve Respect, Not Indifference | The Bilerico Project.

Mormonism/LDS is the most honest Abrahamic sect

The fact that Joseph Smith Jr., questionable as he may have been in his ethical choices, built a religion on 1) a continuing prophetic line of succession and 2) an open scriptural canon shows Mormonism and the LDS movement to be the most “honest” Abrahamic sect. 

Every other Abrahamic sect, save for the Bahai, has operated on the claim of preaching the final and closed testament of a deity and its works on Earth, as well as an extinct line of prophetic contributors to scripture. The LDS movement, on the other hand, challenged this notion in such a flagrant way that they were chased out by Christians of the then-current states of the Union in the 19th century. 

This also benefitted strongly from improvements in publishing technology in the 19th century, which allowed more mass publication of printed books and a reduction of cost. If most Abrahamic religions originated from the times when books were still hand-copied by scribes, would it really make sense to rely on such a scarcity-driven paradigm of “revelation” when books and printers were more plentiful?

The LDS refused to comply with this deliberate conceit of a “sealed revelation”, or of over-reliance upon interpretation of scriptural literature, and inaugurated a continuing expansion of scriptural literature. The implied “scarcity” of revelation was rendered moot, and the LDS movement made their “Doctrine & Covenants” more of a “Living Word” than Christians consider their Bible or Muslims consider their Qur’an. 

I say all this as an atheist. 

Bill Maher is right about Abrahamic religion

The pattern that I’ve noticed about Bill Maher is that he seems to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. Every time he criticizes Christians or Muslims, he is criticized in return by the targeted parishioners and praised by the other group of parishioners, and he is almost always criticized by “liberals/progressives/etc” who take him to task for either his “literalism” or his “excuses for American empire”.

The praise heaped upon him by conservative cultural Christian blogs whenever he calls the Quran a “hate-filled holy book” or describes equating religious terrorism between Christians and Muslims “liberal bullshit”, and the praise heaped upon him from progressive blogs whenever he calls the Abrahamic God a “psychotic mass murderer” and Christians “hypocrites”, all come in spades.

I wonder if people will get that his critique of religion is primarily squared against Abrahamic religion in its entirety, ripping apart all of the sanctimonious rhetoric and ideologies espoused in Abrahamic religion regarding personal (and corporate) morality (not just the mythological stuff). Muslims criticize his critique based on the fact that one of his parents practiced Judaism (???? I mean, he was raised Catholic, he hates both Catholicism and Judaism), the Christians espouse everything from merely “praying for that sinner” to wishing torture on the guy.

I’m not an “admirer” of Maher – the “Gay Mafia” bit during the Brendan Eich-Mozilla-Prop 8 issue was rather ignorant and gave ammo to so-called “Persecuted Christians(TM)” – but he does attack Abrahamic religions in both their “conservative” and “liberal” manifestations. He criticizes the Jim Wallises and Tariq Ramadans, the Anjem Choudurys and John Hagees, and does not give one inch to their rationalizing bloviations about their Abrahamic religions.

And he doesn’t mind being called “hateful against” so-called “people of faith” (which is pretty much code for “Abrahamic religionists and their self-appointed leaders” anyway).

So when it comes to critiquing Abrahamic religions, the concept of “faith/belief”, and their often-unfortunate impact upon civil and cultural life in the world, I wish more people would have as similar of an equal-opportunity secularity as that espoused by people like Bill Maher.

Adding more axis to the Dawkins spectrum

I just came across the Spectrum of theistic possibility, also known as the Dawkins spectrum due to Richard Dawkins popularizing the spectrum in his book The God Delusion. According to Dawkins, the spectrum has seven milestones of range in which one may often find their ideas regarding (a)theism:

  1. Strong theist. 100 per cent probability of God. In the words of C.G. Jung: “I do not believe, I know.”
  2. De facto theist. Very high probability but short of 100 per cent. “I don’t know for certain, but I strongly believe in God and live my life on the assumption that he is there.”
  3. Leaning towards theism. Higher than 50 per cent but not very high. “I am very uncertain, but I am inclined to believe in God.”
  4. Completely impartial. Exactly 50 per cent. “God’s existence and non-existence are exactly equiprobable.”
  5. Leaning towards atheism. Lower than 50 per cent but not very low. “I do not know whether God exists but I’m inclined to be skeptical.”
  6. De facto atheist. Very low probability, but short of zero. “I don’t know for certain but I think God is very improbable, and I live my life on the assumption that he is not there.”
  7. Strong atheist. “I know there is no God, with the same conviction as Jung knows there is one.”

But after reading about the political compass, which expands the range of one’s political ideals to a wider map than the political spectrum, I realized that the Dawkins spectrum could also use a similar expansion of range for placing one’s ideas about (non-)belief, spirituality, ethics and so on.

Potentially, there are quite a few axis to add to the Dawkins spectrum:

  • From Accommodationism to rejection – regarding the question of whether it would be better to work alongside religious persons/forces for the uplift of society with or without a critique of religious ideologies;
  • State involvement with religion –  Ranging from full separation of religion and state to outright institutionalization of religion in state affairs.
  • Trust of scientific advances – Ranging from full trust of modern science to outright distrust and hostility.
  • Social integration – Ranging from proactive integration of diversely-traited groups of people (women, ethnicities, LGBT) into society to hostility against integration and related “liberal” policies.
  • General supernatural encounters – Ranging from personal accounts of certain events in one’s life as being of a supernatural nature to dismissing similar phenomena as being of a natural or psychological origin.

These questions very often come up in a lot of the atheist/freethought blogs which I’ve read over the years (especially Hemant Mehta’s The Friendly Atheist), and they come up repeatedly. The replies from commenters in these blogs reveal a lot about their individual perceptions regarding the role of religious-motivated institutions in society (and secular alternatives/analogues). So I think expanding the spectrum to a Dawkins compass would allow people to reveal more about their belief systems.

Why I’m glad that we don’t have an official language

One thing that I’m glad about, as an American citizen, is that we don’t have an “official” language.

This country, from long before the end of British rule in 1781, has attracted one of the most extreme varieties of peoples from all over the world. Despite the rise of xenophobic and/or racist movements from the descendants of immigrants, despite the fears and electoral stump speeches about the Irish, the Jewish, the Asian, the Central- and South American and the Middle Eastern menaces who “threatened” to “change our culture”, each one of these groups manifested enough interest in integrating into our society, and many of their descendants came to demand more for their lives than what was offered to their forebears.

We integrated, and continue to integrate, those who integrate into our society, and those who may leave this country for other shores are not left without the influence of the American experience.

So what helped us integrate so many people?

  • First, our separation of religion and state, and non-establishment of a state religion.
  • Second, our non-establishment of a state language.

If the signatories to the 1787 Constitution had privileged English as the official language of the United States, I think that our experience with immigrants would have been made worse than what the current historical record shows. It would establish English-speakers as a more politically-privileged class of people over those who don’t speak English, only certifying and empowering the prevalent bigoted attitudes against fellow human beings simply by way of linguistic history, and no doubt antagonizing those who lived in territories formerly colonized by Spain or France, or those who were indigenous to the land and spoke languages prior to interaction with European settlers (i.e. the former Kingdom of Hawai’i).

I also look at the experience of Canada, which has integrated almost as wide of a variety of human beings from all inhabited continents from the moment of European colonization as our country. In Canada, English and French are established as the state languages, and politicians and civil servants are expected to learn both languages in order to hold their jobs. Despite the integration of French as a first-class language in Canadian federal politics, Quebec separatism still runs strong as a political force among those who feel that the minority-status French language is not treated with equal dignity in the Canadian public. This sentiment jeopardizes the relationship of minorities who are not English- or French-speaking nor entirely aligned with either linguistic structure, including Canadian people of color, with Canadian identity.

This is why I would rather that no language would be declared “official” in this country. Once we begin to pick a state language, or a state religion, or a state socio-economic ideology, we begin to ostracize those who don’t fit so neatly within the categories set by such state favoritisms. We begin to favor the stronger over the weaker, some over others, when we would gain more from negotiating with such parties at some point in their integration.

And I say all this from my own favoritism to English. It is more adaptable and assimilative of any “foreign” word than most other languages known to the human species, very much like a creole or a pidgin language. That makes it a highly-useful language in trade, education and diplomacy.

I would rather that English, as a language, defend itself on its own merits in the marketplace of languages. The state, in my opinion, does a greater service in integrating our society beyond our languages, our religions or the ways in which we think.

E pluribus unum.

No immigrant, no matter whether they’re from Mexico or Lebanon or China, threatens this creed. We only threaten it when we loose sight of this creed and all that it entails.

An “official” language, like a state-favored religion, threatens this creed. Let’s maintain this “separation of language and state”, a key tool in the stirring of this “melting pot”.

List of non-Christian Roku religion channels

Because I have a strong interest in seeing devices like the Roku and Chromecast allow for cheaper access to television distribution (both on-demand and live), and especially in seeing greater religious diversity on television (even though I criticize religion on a regular basis), I’m making this list of non-Christian channels on the Roku platform that I’ll continually update with more information in the future.

This list involves channels which fall under the Religion and Spirituality section of the Channel Store as well as similar subchannels on Nowhere TV, plus private channels found through Rokuguide and other guides. I also include “Alternative Health”, “Occult” and “Conspiracy theory” channels because they also tend to involve religious woo.

Paranormal/Mystical

Alternative Medicine

Jewish

Muslim

Buddhist

Humanist/Atheist

Interfaith

Other sects

Duck Dynasty

On the Duck Dynasty issue: The comments which are most glaring from #PhilRobertson’s interview are these:

“Start with homosexual behavior and just morph out from there. Bestiality, sleeping around with this woman and that woman and that woman and those men,” he tells reporter Drew Magary. “Don’t be deceived. Neither the adulterers, the idolaters, the male prostitutes, the homosexual offenders, the greedy, the drunkards, the slanderers, the swindlers—they won’t inherit the kingdom of God. Don’t deceive yourself. It’s not right.” Only to then equivocate: “However, I would never treat anyone with disrespect just because they are different from me. We are all created by the Almighty and like Him, I love all of humanity. We would all be better off if we loved God and loved each other.”

After bullshitting the interviewer and the readers on sexuality with his ill-informed beliefs, his respect isn’t worth anything until he actually attempts to expose himself to real gay/lesbian people and families, including the married, the poor, the rural, the artistic, the shunned. The onus is on him to mop up his assumptions. He can be invited to an LGBT town hall, or to an LGBT community center like LGBT Community Center of New Orleans, or to an LGBT-affirmative religious center like Metropolitan Community Church of New Orleans. He can actually *talk* to real live openly-LGBT people explain themselves, their lives and their loves! Shocking, ain’t it?

But that’s just leading the horse to the water. It’s up to him whether he wants to *understand* those who he just compared to animal abusers and terrorists, and not just “respect” them. He owes that, first and foremost, to his own employment at A&E, and owes it ephemerally to his show’s viewers. He can at least use that A&E money to seek to understand LGBT people. Respect does not happen without understanding.

Critique on “Becoming a Woman Through Wicca: Witches and Wiccans in Contemporary Teen Fiction”

Harry Underwood

Journal Article Critique 2

COMM 3010

4/6/2013

 

Jarvis, C. (2008), Becoming a Woman Through Wicca: Witches and Wiccans in Contemporary Teen Fiction. Children’s Literature in Education, 39: pp. 43–52. doi:10.1007/s10583-007-9058-0

 

Summary

Religion, spirituality and ethics have all held a large role in both human self-perception and interpersonal relations throughout much of human history, especially for classes such as gender and sexual orientation. One religion, Wicca, has been notably differentiated from this history by its long-standing embrace of the “witch” as a foundational, individualized participant in the religion, its organizational default to individual or small-group observance, its lack of any central work of scripture, and its semi-amorphic adaptation to backgrounds and ideals as diverse as the witches who observe it. The history of the “craft” during the social upheavals and reforms of the 20th century, particularly those which affected women, provides a rich background for its purposing in genre fiction as a plot device. Jarvis’ analysis of Cate Tiernan’s Wicca series, among similar works, is largely an analysis of the series’ impact upon “the intersection between fantasy and the socially and historically grounded portrayal of spiritual/religious experience and practice” for an audience – young adults – who are most impacted by interests, life events and figures who play a role in shaping their future personal identities and worldviews as adults (45).

 

Rationale and theoretical scope

Jarvis intends to use this study to analyze the social value of a genre of teen fiction which presents “witchcraft as a religious choice for human beings”, namely teenagers (43). From the series, Jarvis derives insights into how the series portrays the impact of religion upon or within “the family, learning and self-discipline, and sex and sexuality” (46), which works with the analysis’ theoretical scope of this intersection between gender, identity and religion. She provides a historical background of the Wiccan religion, including its origin in the United Kingdom, its importation to countries like the United States, and its emancipatory relationship with the women’s liberation movement, with female witches creating observances which explicitly shunned the gender stratification which they had seen in Abrahamic religions.

From this point, Jarvis explores the impact of the Wiccan religion upon the characters in the series in the areas of “the family, learning and self-discipline, and sex and sexuality” with summarization of key events in many of the series’ books. The main character, Morgan, develops throughout the series from her role as a daughter of a devout Roman Catholic family to being introduced by a friend to a Wiccan observance to later strains with her family, with her abilities as a practitioner of the craft, and finally with divisive passions among elements of her own Wiccan community, all the while coming into her own as a young woman, an exceptionally-powerful and adept “blood witch” and an autonomous individual who bucks the determinations of others. This evolution, and the periodic comparison of key events in the evolution with cited commentary on the ethics and practice of the Wiccan religion, drive home Jarvis’ theory of the series as a work which redeems, in a utilitarian sense, religion (like Wicca) as a personal and empowering force in human experience, a force which is both ethical and embracing of individuation.

 

Implications

Jarvis further explores how fantasy and romance, major tropes in popular teen fiction, provide the proper “couch” for the presence of religion and personal maturation in the series, as the tropes of fantasy and romance in the novel are heavily “entwined with the theme of religious awakening” (49). Jarvis concludes that Wicca and similar works (such as the character Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Annie from the Circle of Three series), “without imposing the rigid morality and intolerance about other religions, women and sexuality that characterise many religions,” offer readers the fiction-based embrace of a more “liberal”, individuative, feminine-inclusive spirituality and resulting ethical and personal experiences which place the onus of fulfilling the Wiccan Rede – ‘Do what you will an it harm none’ – upon the characters as individuals (51).

 

Evaluation

The arguments made in the analysis are valid in that the numerous examples of key behaviors and statements by the characters are backed with citations of both the book and past writings on the Wiccan religion from both self-identified Wiccans and non-Wiccans. The arguments in the study are also consistent with each other in how they follow the character’s development and connote key stages as being reflective of both Wiccan practice and teenage female life, building to the conclusion of an interconnectivity between the two. The heuristic value of the study is that it provides opportunities for readers and writers to reappraise the intersection between fantastic cognitive constructs, both in religion and in more secular fiction, and real-world ethical observance, and also provides an interpretation of this intersection as one which can liberalize and individuate, rather than cloister and impress, prevalent societal identities and behaviors. The parsimony of the article is that the article’s main communicative theory can be broken down as four axioms: “Religion and spirituality are ethical frameworks for social and cognitive growth”, “Fantasy fiction presents observance of religion, magic and spirituality as integrable with teenage female life,” “Religion can emphasize ‘right behavior’ over ‘right belief,’” and that “Gender diversity and self-empowerment can be affirmed by religious belief and societal behavior.”

 

Conclusion

In conclusion, the analysis by Jarvis makes a solid attempt to engage the broader importance and popularity of religion and fantasy to teen girls. It reviews the history of Wicca and relationship with women’s history, compares the development of the main character of Wicca through life stages which mark her growth in all aspects to the ethical practices most identified in scholarly literature with Wicca, and the utility of fantasy and romance fiction as vehicles for ethical and spiritual tropes. It also pushes strongly for Wicca as both a feminine-inclusive, individuating religion and, as a result, a suitable plot device for engaging the minds of young adult women with advocacy of self-awareness and right behavior. The analysis of Wicca by Jarvis does a suitable job of appraising the series for its social and interpersonal relevance.

 

His choice of venue for suicide, his reasoning for this type of suicide, and his very basis of thinking is exactly the same reasoning and basis for the actions of Anders Breivik, the Norwegian mass murderer. Gay marriage will cause Sharia, White race is dying out by not breeding enough, etc. I’m surprised that he didn’t berate a conspiracy of the evil Jewish Muslim Marxist Hollywood liberal bankster Freemasons for the downfall of Louis XVI in his suicide note. AFAIK.

As much as I may rail against theistic religion of the hell-believing type, I find it mildly interesting when disaffected or shunned groups make an earnest attempt to retool their own religious upbringings for themselves.

For instance, last night, I was reading what may be the first and few pro-gay sacred texts ever composed: “Hidden Treasures and Promises”, distributed as a compilation of “continuing revelation” to the prophets of the Restoration Church of Jesus Christ, a gay-friendly offshoot of the LDS Church.