Car Bombs and Condoms, or Do Atheists Kill Fairies?

I am an atheist. I’m not ashamed of it and I don’t generally go around shouting about it, either, although I’ll gleefully enter into a furiously rational debate about it if anyone asks.  I tend to believe in science, although I temper that statement with the caveat that I tend to accept the findings of good science  on the understanding that any given scientific theory may be disproved at any minute. I’m not a zealot. Well, I am, inasmuch as I absolutely insist on the best possible evidence and a seriously critical eye.

My problems with organised religion are many, but my main problem is that no organised religion seems to be very good at convincing people that they should be share the faith. In fact, organised religion generally seems to ignore atheists until we say something which is so unabashedly rational that it invokes terror and outrage, like this:

So what if some Danish cartoonist draws pictures of Mohammed. He’s just a cartoonist, and not a Muslim.

Or this:

People who are, supposedly, celibate, have no business telling those who are not how, or with whom, they should have sex. (My thanks to comedian Andy Parsons for that one).

Or even this:

Believe what you like. Tell other people what you believe if you like. Don’t kill people who don’t agree with you. In fact, don’t even tut in a self-righteous manner.

It seems to me, when I watch the news, that organised religion’s attempts at charming new recruits into the fold generally extend to telling people they’ll die or launching bombs at them and I can’t help but feel that if they’re all so touchy about the whole subject, maybe it would be better if they just stopped talking about it and let everyone get on with their day in peace.

For anyone damning me to Hell or genuflecting in horror or praying for my soul at this point, may I just point out that as far as I know, no atheist has committed genocide on another group of atheists for disbelieving in a deity in a slightly different way than they do, although we do occasionally have hot debates over the bar about how to go about being reasonable.

It seems to be a  fundamental aspect of religion that in order to be perceived as a true believer, you have to be extremely touchy about it. I don’t get offended every time someone prays because I don’t assume that every prayer is a personal attack on my opinions. I don’t get wound up about the prospect of people having a sneaking suspicion that someone else is in control and hoping that that controller is on their side. Anyone who’s ever filled in a tax return or sat at a three lane intersection at rush hour has that feeling.  So, I don’t have a problem with the belief in a Deity, per se, just the way that some people seem to go about dealing with that belief.

I fantasise about a world where there is no organised religion, where people come up with their own opinions based on rationale, evidence, what they feel to be true but certainly not what other people tell them. In a sense, I am also fantasising about a world where people don’t read tabloids because it seems to me that anyone who can be convinced by one weakly argued bunch of hyperbole can be convinced by a second and I don’t see much difference between the tactics of tabloid and religious types. It reminds me of the disappointment which was the latest Star Wars offering, “The Revenge of the Sith” in which Annekin Skywalker is worn down by General Palpatine in a debate which goes something like: “Turn to the dark side”. “No”. “Turn to the dark side”. “No” . “Turn to the dark side”. “Okay”. No clever debate, no wearing down of conscience, no informed challenge, no inimitable and undeniable logic, which is what I was hoping for. I get the same sense of disappointment from most tabloids and from every sermon I’ve ever witnessed. I’m not an atheist because I hate religion. I’m an atheist because I’ve never been persuaded otherwise. “Dinosaur bones are there to test our faith.” I ask you. In what universe is planting enormous bones in the ground supposed to be a clever way of testing anything?

I suppose I have always been destined to be like this because, when faced with the possible existence of a Supreme Being, my response has always been; “Sounds great to me. Bring ‘im out.” And they don’t like that.

I would hope that, by now, at least someone is lamenting my apparent lack of adventure. Religion is all about leaps of faith and trusting your instincts, after all, isn’t it? Which makes it sound quite sexy. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’ve stage-dived with the best of them and if you think that believing in God requires faith, try throwing yourself into a bunch of strangers and hoping they’ll catch you. THAT is, quite literally, a leap of faith. I guess the difference is that you find out pretty quickly if your faith was justified and if it wasn’t, you’re on your way to the Rhinoplasty unit while you question the nature of existence.

And for anyone grinding their teeth and muttering that it’s not about convincing people to have faith, it’s all about just having it; good for you. That’s as it should be, but that’s not how it is or else, why the sermons?  Why the fire and brimstone of Old Testament tyranny? Why the inveigling of a second Deity (the Devil) into a monotheistic religion if not to provide a stick to go with the carrot? If organised religion was not pre-occupied with convincing everyone that it is right, while being so bad at it, then there would have been no Crusades. Believers would go about their days in a little dwam of happy faith and feel no need to convert anyone.

And there wouldn’t be so much rhetoric about “conviction”.  Who has faith unless they’re convinced that they should? Every believer has to have seen or felt something that might otherwise be called ‘evidence’ to prompt them to renew their faith. I’ve never met a devout believer of any persuasion who didn’t have an experience or two to back up their position. I’ve also never met anyone who, having never had any sort of experience that could be construed as religious, maintained any particular faith. I therefore contend that religious belief is a matter of convincing evidence and since that evidence is, by its very nature, subjective, then exactly how is a car bomb or the denial of condoms and sex education in AIDS-riddled countries likely to convince anyone that the perpetrator is on the right track? Surely it would make more sense for religious zealots to launch a charm offensive to capture us floating voters. Post us money. Send us presents. The fact that I have never seen a news report that said that the Israelis were sending presents to the Palestinians or that a squad of Muslims had arrived at Heathrow with gifts for the atheists or that the Catholic Church was handing out condoms in Africa and supporting sex education in order to save lives, or, indeed, that the disparate religious groups were banding together to charm the atheists into at least picking a team, is my evidence to support my contention that no organised religion is capable of overcoming its innate pettiness in order to garner support for their Lord. It is more like a petulant three year old throwing a tantrum and screaming; “Like me more!” It’s not endearing.

My final word goes to all the Doubting Thomases out there, the ’show me’ squad who quietly go about their day wondering what on earth is so difficult about understanding a reasoned argument. Every time you say you don’t believe in God, a religious fundamentalist dies.