LSP51: Do You Agree with Pope Francis on the Question of Hypocritical Catholics Versus Atheists?

Last week, Pope Francis made international headlines when he criticized hypocrisy among Catholics who rigorously observe Catholic rituals but don't apply Christian virtues to their daily lives. This in itself wasn't an original insight, as anyone who knows the Bible can tell you. What attracted attention was Pope Francis' decision to quote this modern sentiment: "But to be a Catholic like that, it's better to be an atheist."

So is Pope Francis right? Is it true that atheists are capable of leading more virtuous lives than people who believe in God? Are atheists generally less hypocritical than Christians?

First, I want to be clear about the definition I'm using for atheist. I'm not talking about the people who are troubled by doubts and questions about God and who therefore aren't sure which direction to take; I'm talking about the people who are no longer troubled by such doubts or questions because they've a made a clear and conscious decision to reject the notion of a living God.

In my experience, it's the people who are most conscious about their decision to reject God who are the most hypocritical individuals I've had the misfortune to meet.

A few years ago, I worked for such a person, a store manager who was the boss from hell. For the purposes of this essay, I'll call her Celia.

Celia was a woman in her 40's who had worked in retail for many years. She was also, as voiced almost from the moment I met her, a passionate advocate of progressive values and human rights legislation. She claimed to be a person who wouldn't tolerate the slightest form of injustice. As an avowed atheist, she proudly spoke with righteous logic about the many harms caused by organized religion. She was, in short, the very model of a virtuous Canadian atheist.

But Celia had a dirty secret. She was profoundly hypocritical. She used her position as a retail manager not to lift others up through positive relationships but to bash other people down through a particularly insidious form of schadenfreude that loves the law but not the spirit of the law.

Celia lived to find fault in others so she could judge them as unworthy citizens who had committed crimes and deserved to be punished, all in the name of righteousness. So, instead of doing her job as manager, she would sit in the back of the store and obsessively watch the store's security cameras so she could catch small infractions of the "rules." She would make new rules, fail to communicate the new rules to staff members, punish us for breaking the rules, then set aside the new rules and replace them with more new rules the next day. She seemed unaware of how fickle and unprofessional and downright nasty her actions seemed to the rest of us. Meanwhile, she was so busy hunting down criminals, she wasn't leading the sales floor, or organizing stock, or promoting good relationships among staff so the store could operate efficiently and compassionately. She was just . . . dedicating herself to her "higher calling," her calling as a righteous warrior.

She was living in her own little world of purity and justice, and, from her point of view, she was righting a whole series of terrible wrongs. So she felt justified in firing anyone who didn't meet her standards, which was pretty much everyone. (After a while, I started keeping a list.) At any given time, she had a "favourite" employee and a "probational" employee, though you could quickly and quixotically fall from being favoured to being hated. One by one, she pushed us under the bus. I knew my time was coming to an end when she'd already fired everyone else who had given her "just cause." I was frantically looking for another job, but I wasn't fast enough. She'd set her vigilante sights on me. I got the boot because I dared to say in private to some other employees what I thought of her treatment of us. One of those employees was foolish enough to trust Celia's words about fairness and justice, and told Celia what I'd said. That employee didn't last much longer there than I did.

Celia's real problem was that she lacked any sense of true humbleness (with the meaning I've written about in previous posts). She was deeply narcissistic and absolutely certain of her "right to be right" (a brain issue I've also written about). She couldn't tolerate her own mistakes, so problems and doubts and questions always had to be somebody else's fault. 

Not only were the mistakes not her own, but she devoutly believed that all errors should be eradicated through the humanistic "religion" of perfection. Within this widespread human belief system of virtue, it's axiomatic that permanent perfection can be achieved through the proper application of human logic, law, justice, purity, and holiness. Once stupid superstitions like faith in God are eradicated, there's room for clever humans to get on with the task of building perfection. Those who achieve perfection are virtuous. Virtue confers authority. And authority grants the certainty to set yourself above the laws of justice that normal people (like employees) have to follow.

What laws are better, you ask, than the laws of fairness and common sense and personal responsibility and empathy? Why, the laws of self-justification, of course.  

Naturally, Celia was an expert at self-justification.

What Celia believed in was not justice but pure System 2 thinking and pure System 2 folly. Over the years -- perhaps as the result of a difficult childhood -- Celia had trained her brain to place less priority on the valuable input of her brain's System 1 processing system. She didn't want to feel empathy for others (because System 1 empathy, trust, and faith, unlike System 2 agreeableness, sometimes lead to emotional pain). She didn't want to feel humble. She didn't want to ask difficult questions about God. Or do the hard work of coping with her own messy System 1 sense of meaning. Most especially, she didn't want anyone else to tell her what to do or how to do it. She wanted control. She wanted to be in charge of the rules so she could change them at will and have a sense of power over others. She wanted to say she's a virtuous person without having to give up her "right to be right," her right to be happy in whatever way she damn well pleased.

In short, she wanted an excuse to proclaim herself a righteous warrior without ever having to do the hard work of loving your God and loving your neighbour as yourself.

She's an atheist because the atheistic worldview (with its suppression of System 1 brain input) gives her permission to be a controlling, narcissistic, unloving hypocrite who speaks volubly about justice and mercy but who actually prefers to terrorize others through her actions.

One aspect of being a cataphatic nature mystic is the sensitivity one develops to metaphors from nature. So when I went through my photo files to find an illustration to describe what it feels like to be attacked by an atheist, this photo, from a particularly nasty February 2015 storm, jumped out at me. The cold and vicious winds drove their payload of snow so strongly at every target that even the vertical bricks of my neighbour's house weren't spared. My personal faith is as sure and steady as these bricks, but when an atheist chooses to attack . . . it feels as if I've been blasted by calculated waves of pure, cold, logical hatred. Photo credit JAT 2015.

 

I've encountered a number of atheists who will resort to ad hominem attacks on people of faith at the slightest provocation, including the mere mention of God. Atheists who go on the attack (and many of them seem to believe it's their moral duty to attack) don't just argue on the grounds of logic or science but find it very easy to slip into hate-filled diatribes about the idiocy of anyone who trusts in God. The viciousness of an atheist in hot pursuit of a faith-based target is a scary sight indeed. (Survival of the fittest, no doubt?)

I agree with Pope Francis that all atheists will go to heaven, and I agree that all atheists should be treated with dignity and respect because they're human beings and children of God just like everybody else.

But this doesn't mean I find the moral choices of atheists acceptable.

There's no virtue to be found in an atheist's "right to be right." And atheists aren't less hypocritical than System-2-dominant Christians (that is, the Catholic hypocrites Pope Francis has complained about). The only way for any of us to stop living as hypocrites is to embrace the full capacity of our human brains -- to learn what it means to love and forgive and learn and grow at the deepest levels of heart combined with mind combined with soul combined with body on an ongoing basis till the day we die.

If you think you can do all this without asking God for help, you must really think highly of yourself.

LSP46: Don't Know God from Adam

Adam: So God, I was thinking. I've decided I should become a more spiritual person, so I thought maybe you could give me some tips. Nothing biblical, of course. I'm thinking of something more modern. I'm thinking . . . oh . . . maybe something with a bit of a Jesus feel to it. Jesus seems to fly well with just about everybody. You know, all that love and forgiveness stuff. How about it?  Any suggestions for how I can be more like Jesus? I'd really love everybody to love me. The way they love Jesus.

God:  Hmmm. Interesting choice, son.

Adam, shrugging:  Hey, it's, like, just a little something I dreamed up.

God:  Well . . . it's certainly doable, son. How would you like to start?

Adam:  I'm very big on the idea of respect, so we should start with that.

God:  Oh. You'd like to know how to respect me?

Photo JAT 2015

Adam, chuckling:  Of course not. You have such a sense of humour, God. No, I was thinking it's important for me to state what I need. That way, the boundaries will be clear, and there'll be no misunderstandings between us.

God:  I see. That's not the way Jesus started his conversation with me, but go on. Let's see where this takes us.

Adam:  Great. Just so we're clear . . . you and I are equal partners in this, okay? I mean, I don't even have to be doing this. I could just carry on with the life I've been living. I'm pretty impressed with the choices I've been making so far, and other people have told me how great I'm doing, so this spiritual stuff -- it's an add-on. If I don't like something, I'm gonna say so and I'm gonna stop right then and there. That's my bottom line.

God:  You have free will, son. I give that to everybody.

Adam:  Another thing. You're going to guarantee me the results I want, right? You're going to make sure I'm even more popular and successful, right?

God:  You know Jesus was hated by the people he loved, don't you, son? You know he pushed all their buttons?

Adam:  Yeah, yeah, the crucifixion thing. But that was before we got smarter and more accepting of others in our culture. That wouldn't happen today. We wouldn't let it. Today we know the difference between love and hate.

God:  You know the difference between status and lack of status. I'm not sure it's the same thing, son.

Adam:  So back to the Jesus plan. How do I start being more like Jesus?

God:  Well, I need a lot of help getting practical things from people who have them to people who need them. Do you think you might be able to help with that?

Adam:  You mean I should write a cheque to a charity? I might be able to squeeze out a few bucks for you.

God:  Actually, I was thinking about a young man who lives in your community and needs a kind word, an encouraging smile, and a fair chance at getting a job. You're going to cross paths with him on Monday at 5:00 p.m. Think you can help me with that?

Adam, checking schedule on phone:  Uh, well, sorry, but Monday isn't good for me. I have to be at the gym by then. Another day would be better for me. What's Friday like for you? I can squeeze in some time at 7:30 p.m..

God:  Shouldn't you be home with your children at 7:30 p.m.? I'm just wondering, since Jesus placed an extremely high priority on the emotional needs of children, and if you were to spend time in the evenings with your children, it would be a great first step.

Adam:  No problem. I always give them a kiss when I get home, and during the day I sometimes text them.

God:  You know, Jesus was pretty keen on the idea of visiting people in person. He did his teaching and healing in person, even though he could have written long sermons and sent them out by messenger the way other teachers did. Think you could be more of a hands-on guy?

Adam:  Interesting thought, God. Interesting thought. I don't think it's really my style. Thanks for the suggestion, though.

God:  Your children have free will, too, Adam.

Adam:  Hey, don't tell me how to raise my children, God. Next you'll be telling me I should say out loud I believe in God. Nope. I draw the line at saying -- or even thinking -- I believe in you. It ain't gonna happen, God. That's one of my ground rules.

God:  So . . . . to be clear . . . you want to be like Jesus, who believed in me with every shred of his being  . . . but you don't think you should have to believe in anything beyond yourself?

Adam:  You got that straight. I know my rights.

God:  Okay, son. Well, I think I'll be on my way now.

Adam:  Wait! I'm not finished! If this is going to work between us, I expect you to listen! You're supposed to help me when I ask for help!

God:   . . . (offstage whisper) Where's my copy of Horton Hears a Who? Anyone see my copy? Jesus, you borrow it again? Never a copy around when I need one. The kids love it  . . . (smiling) . . .

Adam:  See? Just what I thought! All talk, no commitment. Where are you, God? What kind of God are you, anyway?

LSP45: Atheism: You Think You've Escaped the Perils of Religion . . . So Why Isn't Your Life Getting Better?

If the militant atheists are right, and the world's greatest ills can be blamed on religion, then I'm wondering why, at the close of 2015, when more people than ever are rejecting faith and religion and relationship with God for the simple logic of atheism, the world is looking less loving, not more loving?

Could it be that militant atheism, in its religiosity, pure ideology, anger, lack of empathy, and anthropocentric hubris, is simply a new manifestation of the same neurophysiological patterning that leads to fundamentalism of all stripes?

Could it be that militant atheism is a fundamentalist philosophy with characteristics no different, say, than the Middle East movement known as ISIL, which purports to be a religious movement, but is really just a haven for human beings who have damaged their brains and have turned themselves into the Four Horsemen of the Dark Psychological Tetrad (Psychopathy, Narcissism, Sadism, and Machiavellianism)?

Black Beauty T. Rex at the Royal Tyrrell Museum, Drumheller, Alberta. Sure, it's unrealistic and unscientific for Creationists to deny the evidence of the fossil record and claim that Planet Earth is only a few thousand years old. No argument there. But it's also unrealistic and unscientific for militant atheists to deny the evidence of the quantum record, which speaks of weird phenomena such as non-locality, the conscious observer, bosons, fermions, and magnetism, not to mention all the dark matter and dark energy we know almost nothing about. From my perspective, the atheist belief that "dumb luck" led to the evolution of the universe requires a much higher degree of sanctimonious denial than the Creationist position could ever muster. Are we humans really so incredibly amazing that the entire universe evolved just so we could have consciousness with all the rights and privileges of the conscious observer effect? Really? We can't even manage our own bank accounts, let alone act as wise custodians of Planet Earth, so why would the universe evolve to give humankind the unique right to mess with the laws of physics? Photo credit JAT 2015.

The militant atheists I've known (and I've known quite a few) strut and preen in exactly the same harsh way as the spiritual and theological narcissists I've known. They're certain of their rightness, certain of their objective intellect, certain they have all the facts. They're quick to judge and even quicker to punish. They have no empathy (though they rush to claim they live by the laws of empathy's hobbled cousins "compassion" and "mercy"). They rely almost exclusively on the brain's System 2 thinking processes (linear thinking) and pour contempt on the brain's much older and more adaptive System 1 thinking processes (creative and intuitive thinking). They're slow to learn from their mistakes and even slower to admit they made any mistakes in the first place.

Here's something else I've noticed about militant atheists and other fundamentalist philosophers: they're really, really poor at constructing a whole and complete argument. In fact, most of them couldn't argue their way out of a wet paper bag. But don't say this to their face, because they'll explode in vengeful anger -- maybe even treat you to a narcissistic rage reaction -- and they'll make you pay BIG for pointing out they're not really as smart as they think they are.

I take issue with militant atheist philosophies on the following fronts:

• They use restricted data sets and then claim they're using a complete data set. One example is an extreme reliance on Materialist cause-and-effect "Law" without regard or deference to the non-Materialist laws that govern most of the universe. Why is it "wrong" for religious leaders to ignore the actual laws of physics but "right" for atheists to do it when it suits them?
• Another example, taken from the field of religious studies, is a tendency for atheists to conflate many different topics into a single "bugaboo" called religion. Sure, religious fundamentalists conflate stuff all the time -- but why is it okay for atheists to fall back on conflation, over-simplification, literalism, and myth-making of their own?  
• Atheists, in my experience, rely heavily on "revelation" to an extent that rivals the worst abuses of "religious revelation" from major world religions. Under the category of "revelation" you find "proofs" such as "Because I said so," "Because I'm smarter than you," "Because I cherry-picked one small fact from an entire body of knowledge and used it out of context to show how smart I am," and "I just know it's true."
• Atheism has its own set of gods, though it likes to pretend otherwise. Top on the list of atheism's idols are "The Perfect Human Mind," followed closely by scientism; algorithmic solutions; and variations on the "it's not my fault I'm a scumbag because my genes made me do it" argument (which is really no different than the ancient religious argument that says "it's not my fault I'm a scumbag because my demons made me do it").
• Atheism is marked by a petulant, narcissistic refusal to examine the enormous and interconnected questions of scale, time, peripheral vision, alternating current, bonding, probability wave currents, and other non-linear, non-Materialist questions related to God and consciousness and Creation. They use their own personal human limits as proof that God can't actually exist! (as if God has ever understood questions of scale, time, etc. in the way a human brain does!) 

How are these philosophical approaches any different, characterologically speaking, from those used by religious fundamentalists?

How can you expect to become a happier, healthier person who understands patience and love and forgiveness and calmness and flexibility and healing and scale and time and bonding and breadth of knowledge and self-directed morality when you've made the choice to turn yourself into an "iceberg thinker" who refuses to look at anything except the small percentage of data floating above the surface of your System 2 thinking?

And why do you think it's wrong for religious teachers to do this but okay for you to do exactly the same thing?

In my view, militant atheism is hypocrisy in as pure a form as one can get.

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March 2, 2016 addendum: A recent piece by Brian Bethune in Macleans highlights some interesting research by social scientists Diego Gambetta and Steffen Hertog into the unusual percentage of Islamist terrorists who have engineering degrees: http://www.macleans.ca/news/world/why-do-so-many-jihadis-have-engineering-degrees/. Bethune says: "That takes Hertog and Gambetta to the thorny question of “mindsets for extremists.” Different types of people are attracted to different kinds of extremism—engineers mostly on one side, social scientists and humanities grads on the other—and the authors went in search of traits found in both secular and jihadi extremists as well as among engineers. Three stand out among conservatives in general in recent psychological research: disgust (or the felt need to keep one’s environment pure, which can underpin everything from homophobia to xenophobia); the “need for cognitive closure” (a preference for order and certainty that can support authoritarianism); a very high in-group/out-group distinction."

LSP42: Gordian Knots in the Faith/Science/Religion Debate

On March 1, 2015, Scientific American blogger John Horgan posted a written reply he'd received from John Lennox on the question of whether religion and science can coexist. John Horgan (whose views are agnostic) had debated the question with John Lennox (whose views are Christian) at the Stevens Institute of Technology. Horgan posted Lennox's follow-up letter, and readers of the blog were then free to comment.

Here is my response, posted in the comment section on April 27, 2015 (with typos now fixed):

___________________________________________________
 

Religion isn't just "one thing." Faith isn't just "one thing." The human brain (where both religion and faith are experienced) isn't just "one thing." Anyone who tries to reduce these incredibly complex questions to simple either-or explanations isn't paying attention to reality. Photo credit JAT 2026.

 

In my experience, the real question is not whether religion and science can coexist, but whether religion and faith can coexist.

@4 Paul Topping wrote, "In my mind, the main 'proof' that convinces me of the atheist point of view is that people have so many different religions with such different explanations. . . . The only reasonable conclusion is that they are all wrong and that belief in religion is just something that some people have like blue eyes."

When I read a comment such as this (and there are many these days) I know the individual hasn't taken the time and trouble to use objective research tools to examine key questions about religion -- questions examined with tools such as historicity, source criticism, socio-rhetorical criticism, and cost-benefit analyses from political, economic, social, military, and legal perspectives in the contexts in which the doctrines arose. Most importantly, when superficial assessments of religion are offered, it's quickly clear that all questions about neurophysiology have been shelved.

Shelving questions about neurophysiology isn't reserved for those who claim to espouse the methodology of science. Shelving questions about how and why the human mind works in relationship with the rest of the universe is one of theology's least helpful contributions to humankind, in my opinion. I've read theological arguments so convoluted in their efforts to avoid the question of how and why the human mind works that they make a Gordian knot look like a simple twist tie.

Theology is increasingly understood today as some sort of withering branch of philosophical thought, a deservedly marginalized branch of human thought that has now been proudly replaced by the randomized, double-blind study method, etc.

Those who've studied the history of theological evolution, however, know that all early schools of theological thought (no matter what "religion" they're linked with today) arose from careful study of scientific principles followed by the application of scientific observations to questions of human character, morality, Law (nomos in Greek), justice, disease, healing, mental health, and the pursuit of happiness.

It's not possible from a scientific perspective to reasonably argue that human beings 5,000 years ago (when the roots of today's religions really took hold in the soil of technological advances) had DNA so vastly different from ours that they couldn't use their brains in ways virtually identical to the ways we do. It's not reasonable to argue that they couldn't see for themselves the destructive issues of psychopathy, narcissism, sadism, and machiavellianism without the benefit of today's research and today's DSM-V (which hasn't the courage to include psychopathy in its lauded pages).

Just as we continue to struggle today with these issues, our ancestors took steps to limit the destructive power of certain human choices that spring from Axis II issues. One of the tools each major culture developed was religious doctrine. But religious doctrine wasn't set apart from questions of politics, economics, healing, justice, legal codes, and scientific inquiry. To attack religion as if it has ever been a separate and unnecessary "entity" -- like a dead tree branch that can be lopped off -- is just plain sloppy and lazy from a methodological viewpoint.

Religious doctrines reflect the times and the cultural necessities from which they were born. This is why names and places change from religion to religion, but underlying concerns about destructive human choices don't. Such concerns are universal to the human condition because a psychopath by any other name is still a psychopath. (Members of the Greek pantheon, for instance, certainly seem to be archetypes for the human behaviours we find least desirable: narcissism, fickleness, lust, power-mongering, status addiction, and lack of empathy. Sound like any world leaders you know?)

Religious doctrines, however useful they may have been over the centuries from a political point of view, typically reflect a Materialist cause-and-effect understanding of science, which is quite useful and practical on a day-to-day basis. (Can't argue with classical physics when it comes to everyday usefulness.) The one thing major world religions don't do well, however, is to reflect the needs of FAITH -- a highly influential current of human experience, mostly expressed through System 1 thinking patterns in the brain. System 1 patterns have always paralleled -- and continue to parallel -- the more rigid, linear, Materialist thinking patterns of the human brain's newer System 2 processes.

The experience of faith is the experience of the presence of God in our daily lives. It may or may not be linked to membership in a formal religion.

For me, faith is a relationship with God that endures in the absence of sacred texts. It's an experience that can't be placed within the restrictive boxes of religious doctrinal traditions or texts -- or, for that matter, the restrictive boxes of Materialist cause-and-effect scientific traditions or theories. (Same thing, really.) Faith, far from being just a fanciful belief, is rooted 100% in the most objective scientific realities of the biological brain.

I won't bore you with my own experiences, but if you're interested in opening your heart and mind to what this faith experience might be, I'd recommend the awe-inspiring book Man's Search by Meaning by Dr. Viktor Frankl. Any scientific questions we have about the experience of faith, love, forgiveness, and the human search for meaning must take into account the data collected by Dr. Frankl under some of the most searing and horrendous conditions humankind has ever known: the European Holocaust.

Dr. Frankl, as both participant and scientific observer of the "best" and "worst" in human behaviour, introduced data into the faith/science/religion debate that must, at the very least, be considered from a falsifiability perspective.

It's not enough for any sort of "ism" promoter (whether scientism or religious fundamentalism -- same thing, really) to make lofty claims about the origins of evil and suffering. (Did you know, for instance, that Tertullian's late 2nd century CE doctrine of original sin -- a theory now called Traducianism -- tried to account for human evil on biological grounds?) Ideologues must also account for the data of innate goodness collected by less lofty and less voluble speakers such as the late Dr. Frankl.

Therein lies the really juicy stuff.

LSP40: Atheism: Blindness to the Question of Scale

The National Post has been very brave in the past few days.

First, it ran a major story on the current religious beliefs of Canadians. The article, called "A God? That's complicated. Canadians hanging on to personal faith as organized religion declines: poll," was published on April 5, 2015 and was based on a new Angus Reid poll.

Second, the Post offered readers a chance to answer the question "Do You Believe in God?" Not only did the Post print a selection of the letters it received, it allowed 966 on-line comments before finally closing the debate.

It was great to see such an enormous spectrum of thought in one place. Comments ranged from extreme atheism to extreme fideism, with everything in between. It was refreshing and encouraging to see an actual debate with thoughtful and cogent offerings from regular Canadians on a topic that matters to many. The Post editors, bucking the current trend of sanitizing and pre-packaging controversial ideas so no one's feelings will be hurt, took the audacious approach of allowing breadth in the debate. I applaud the editors for their courage.*

Something that emerged for me as I reflected on the varied comments was a better understanding of the schism that exists between atheists and theists.

One comment, written by a prolific comment writer named Life's Traveller, really drew my attention and prompted me to reply. In part, this is what he (she?) said:

In terms of religions, I just can't accept anything that my equally (and in many cases, greatly over-achievingly) ignorant fellow humans have to say about this. When we all hear the same, clear and consistent, story, straight from god with no human mediation (prophets, etc.), with ample amounts of irrefutable direct evidence, and explanations, testable under the most rigorous conditions that the brightest among us can devise, then I'll conditionally accept it ... perhaps.

I challenged this line of reasoning a couple of times, then Life Traveller came back with this:

"The God I trust and the God who sustains me every day is the God I see everywhere around me in the world of science" [quoting my previous comment]
Please be specific, and include your reasoning as to why exactly the god that you speak of in personal terms (who you trust and who sustains you), is absolutely necessary for whatever example that you choose to produce as a valid demonstration of the presence/existence/influence of "a superhuman being or spirit worshiped as having power over nature or human fortunes; a deity" (according to Oxford).

It took me all night to figure out why this line of reasoning (a line of reasoning shared by many atheists) is so psychologically and spiritually abusive when aimed at those of us who believe in God.

It's abusive because of the implicit assumption it tries to force on me. (I'm using myself here as an example of a person of faith, but I think other people of faith feel this way, too, in the face of militant atheism). It tries at the very outset to force me to agree to take on the "burden of proof" for someone else who is either too lazy or too narcissistic to accept the responsibility for using his or her own brain in the most balanced, holistic way possible. It tries to force me to put on blinders (as if I can't see God in the world "out there"). It tries to force me to use only human laws and human reasoning (as if I can't see God uses universal laws, not human laws). It tries to force me to agree with the fairy tale imaginings of human minds that worship Materialism (and worship themselves). Then, when I balk at these unfair starting assumptions (because they're not based in scientific reality), I'll be blamed for bringing mouldy bread to the table instead of the pure goblet of "truth." It will all be my fault, according to the atheist. And because it's my fault, I'll deserve to be punished. This will make it okay for the atheist to deride me, deride God, and raise him/herself up on a pedestal of smug superiority.

All the while, he's assuming his interpretations of the laws of physics are "right." He's using his "right to be right" as a foundation, a starting place, and he intends to sit in his comfortable place of "rightness" and feast on the imperfections and inadequacies of humans who believe in God. Sure, it's schadenfreude disguised as the pure goblet of truth, but if the atheist can keep me from noticing that -- if he can keep me thinking it's all my fault that he's so miserable -- then can he enjoy a lasting banquet of guilt, shame, inadequacy, and unworthiness from those of us who buy into his Materialist fairy tale.

But, you know, it's not my fault.

It's not my fault that the atheist has consciously and willingly chosen to believe that the Materialist laws of cause and effect govern everything in the universe. It's not my fault that the atheist has chosen to deny that the laws of physics governing baryonic matter represent only a small fraction of the total number of laws of physics in the universe. (Baryonic matter, which makes up the atoms and molecules we think of as "real" while we're on Planet Earth, represents only about 4 to 5% of the total energy of the known universe.) It's not my fault that the atheist can't -- or won't -- see the complexity and weirdness and relationships that govern quantum interactions.

It's not my responsibility to bring to the atheist's table a "proof" based solely on Materialist laws of cause and effect.

It's especially not my responsibility that the atheist simply can't cope with the questions and complexities that arise from scale.

It isn't possible to talk about God without always bearing in mind the question of scale. God the Mother and God the Father are very, very big. They're also very, very smart. To ask anyone to describe God using only their own personal experiences and their own personal scientific knowledge is not fair, not justifiable, and not even a tiny bit humble. Each one of us can provide only a small piece of the overall portrait of God. Each small piece is important and valid, but no one piece (and no one person) can provide everything we hope to know. 

For those of us living as human beings on Planet Earth, we can't begin to get a sense of who God is unless we're willing to approach the question of God with scale in mind.

 

In April 2024, a total solar eclipse was visible from Nova Scotia, Canada. Although I safely watched the eclipse through my approved glasses, I used the camera on my phone to photograph some of the interesting light effects. If you look closely, you'll see the camera captured a large, bubble-shaped reflection (superimposed over the trees) with a tiny "moon-bitten crescent sun" hovering in the middle of the bubble. That's a reflection of what the eclipse looked like at the time I snapped the photo. Photo credit JAT 2024.

To get a true snapshot of who God really is, we'd have to take a poll of all living creatures -- both past and present -- on Planet Earth and then collate all our individual experiences and insights into a vast meta-study. It wouldn't be sufficient to poll only human beings. Human beings represent a small portion of God's children on Planet Earth, and human experiences are necessarily narrow in scope compared to the whole picture of God's relationship with Creation. Humans don't have all the answers.

Humans who want to know God and be in relationship with God have to get over their own human self-importance. They have to accept with humbleness and courage that about 95% of the laws of physics governing their lives are not straightforward and not predictable and not within their complete and utter control. (Have you met any atheists who aren't controlling Type A perfectionists? I haven't.)

You're only human, and the fact that you get to play with even 4–5% of the laws of physics while you're here is really quite something (when you think of the whole scale of Creation, that is).

But don't be thinkin' God is required to squeeze into that small little packet of baryonic reality (like the Genie in Aladdin's Lamp) so you can be spared the challenge of "thinking bigger." If you want to know God, you're going to have to get outside your comfort zone and you're going to have to accept that what you find out there won't be designed from a neat and tidy human point of view. 

As the X-files used to say, "The proof is out there."

Or maybe, more properly, in there -- where quantum reality lies.

God bless.

 

 

* Addendum September 11, 2026: Sadly, I fear this kind of courage would be lacking in today's polarized political climate. Along these lines, the current editorial trends of the National Post no longer align with my own centrist beliefs.

LSP33: Dual Process Thinking and the Soul

The new year started out for me with laughter, excitement, and awe when I stumbled on a BBC Future article about religion and the human brain that confirms much of what I've been writing about for years.

The article, by Rachel Nuwer, is called "Will religion ever disappear?" I recall noticing the title when the article first appeared on December 19, 2014, but I was too busy to stop and take a look. On January 2, though, I somehow ended up there -- almost 10 years to the day since the Christ Zone model of consciousness was first laid out for me in the course of my daily mystical conversations with the soul who once lived as Jesus.

In her article, Nuwer asks whether the rise of atheism around the world will inevitably lead to the death of religion and spirituality. Her conclusion, based on research from experts in psychology, neurology, history, anthropology, and logistics, is that "religion will probably never go away." The reason? The reason boils down to "a god-shaped hole [that] seems to exist in our species' neuropsychology, thanks to a quirk of our evolution."

This "god-shaped hole," which we're always trying to fill with meaning and purpose, springs from the scientific reality that human brains seem to use not one but two basic and distinctive forms of thought. Researchers from social, personality, cognitive, and clinical psychology refer to this in broad terms as "dual process theory." Recent fMRI studies show that specific brain areas are used to process information from the first system and different brain areas are used to process information from the second. Sometimes these two systems are in competition with each other.

The two basic forms of thought are creatively referred to by researchers as "System 1" and "System 2." Me, I call these two processing systems the Soul Circuitry and the Darwinian Circuitry.

Researchers agree that System 1, which seems to be much older in evolutionary terms, is oriented towards intuition, morality, recognizing patterns in the world around us, and seeking meaning and relationships. System 2, which is actually much newer, involves conscious reasoning and careful application of logic. 

I learned this week that dual process theory has been around for a long time among modern psychologists. But somehow I missed it. I've known for several years about some early theological references to the "two-part brain" -- for instance, soon after Jesus explained the Christ Zone model to me, I saw the significance of his use of the rare term "dipsychos" (double-minded) in James 1:8; and later I noted Augustine of Hippo's description of himself as a man torn by the conflicting impulses of two different minds. But I had no idea that my painstaking efforts in the past 10 years to understand the brain-soul nexus were being paralleled in psychology research labs around the world (albeit while skirting any reference to "soul").

That's why I started to laugh when I read the article. When you`re dealing with angels on an everyday basis, timing is everything.

Successful religious architecture appeals to both System 1 and System 2 in the brain. St. Pancras, in Widecombe-in-the-Moor, England, echoes the emotional tones and colours of the haunting hills of Dartmoor. Photo credit JAT 1997.

Even if you're an atheist, and you don't agree with me that System 1 is a 3D analogue for the unique emotional and creative needs of the soul, you still can't avoid the scientific reality that your brain is wired to WANT morality and values. System 1 exists whether you like it or not, and it's an essential part of a healthy brain.

It`s a scientific fact that if you don't give System 1 something useful to do, it will give you feedback whether you like it or not. As Nuwer says, "Similarly, many around the world who explicitly say they don`t believe in a god still harbour superstitious tendencies, like belief in ghosts, astrology, karma, telepathy or reincarnation. 'In Scandanavia, most people say they don`t believe in God, but paranormal and superstitious beliefs tend to be higher than you`d think,' [Ara Norenzayan of the University of British Columbia] says. Additionally, non-believers often lean on what could be interpreted as religious proxies -- sports teams, yoga, professional institutions, Mother Nature and more -- to guide their values in life . . . 'People seem to have this conceptual space for religious thought, which -- if it`s not filled by religion -- bubbles up in surprising ways,' [says Justin Barrett of Fuller Theological Seminary]."

The scientific reality of System 1 is something that has to be factored into any decision you make about your personal spiritual practices. You might like to believe you can rise above all that System 1 nonsense of intuition, morality, recognizing patterns, and seeking meaning and relationships. You might like to believe you can replace emotion and intuition with pure reason and logic at no cost. The cost, however, will be very high: you'll be forcing your brain to ignore the decision-making wisdom of huge hunks of your brain.

I find it easier, more logical, and a lot more fun to live my life by using my whole brain and allowing myself to trust the scientific concepts explained to me by my angels instead of relying on superstition, sports scores, entertainment news, and paranormal "reality shows" for my sense of wholeness and meaning.

God bless my angels for insisting I read the news from reputable, reliable new sources.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

LSP31: Some Thoughts on Stealth Buddhism

In response to a recent Psychology Today blog by Religious Studies professor Candy Gunther Brown, a member of an online discussion group posed this question: "Is Secular Mindfulness Meditation Really Stealth Buddhism?"

There were only two posted comments when I checked into the discussion, and one of the two posted comments started out by saying this:

"Buddhism's most basic precepts do not constitute a 'religion' per se. The aim is to reduce suffering."

A lot of people seem to believe this.  I wrote this in reply:

_________________________________________

It's interesting that you say Buddhism's most basic precepts don't constitute a religion. I've seen this said many times of Buddhism (using as my definition of Buddhism the core teachings of the Four Noble Truths, Eightfold Path, cosmogony of co-dependent origination, and related teachings). I feel it's always important to look at the whole picture of Buddhism's philosophy and way of life when deciding how to incorporate its core teachings into our daily lives (if at all).

It's often said that the aim of Buddhism is to reduce suffering. While this is certainly true, Buddhism in the form taught by the Buddha (if it's even possible to accurately reconstruct his original teachings) is a self-contained cosmogonical and cosmological philosophy founded on apophatic mysticism with a salvific goal. Its focus on salvation (what Buddhists refer to as liberation) definitely pushes it in the direction of a religion. As well, the Buddha's refusal to answer the question of whether there actually is a God makes Buddhism a non-theistic philosophy. It isn't, strictly speaking, an atheistic way of life. There's no room within Buddhism for a personal God, but there's plenty of room in it for assorted supernatural beings and saints (especially within Mahayana Buddhism).

Apophatic mystics, regardless of their original religious training, see the universe in a particular way. This way is filled with negation, lack of imagery, eradication of personal boundaries, and the elevation of the human mind to a cosmic power that can merge with (or even transcend) Source.
 

Few people in the West take the time to understand that the Buddha's claim of awakening under the Bodhi tree is a classic example of an apophatic mystical experience. Those in the West who turn to Buddhism as a way to escape the "nonsense" of Christian mysticism and miracles should be more honest with themselves about the mystical roots of Buddhism. Photo credit JAT 2018.

The goal of all apophatic mystics -- whether Buddhist, Christian, or any other faith tradition -- is to permanently escape the problems and suffering of the imperfect world we live in through the path of the perfect mind. There's no need within any apophatic philosophy to promote the ideals of the human heart or the reduction of suffering through alternate means or practices (one example of an alternate practice being forgiveness).

Having said this, I think there's great value in the practice of mindfulness if mindfulness is defined as something more akin to healthy awareness of self (interoception); healthy maintenance of boundaries (parieto-temporal lobe enhancement); triggering of the "placebo effect" through self-kindness, gratitude, humbleness (lack of status addiction), forgiveness, empathy, music, and community fellowship; and full use of the CNS's capacity to begin to heal itself (and the whole body) if we use our free will in healthy ways.

I'm a practising mystic, but I follow the cataphatic path. I don't engage in meditation because the kind of meditation endorsed within strict Buddhist circles will trigger (with sustained practice) neuroplastic effects that I have no interest in. I have no interest in changing my brain structure to suit the ideals of an apophatic belief system. I'm content to see the world as a positive place. I'm not trying to escape this world. And I don't believe I'm clever enough to use the power of my human mind to understand the entire universe and everything in it.

Plato also endorsed a version of the cloud of Oneness (similar to Buddhism's co-dependent origination) but Plato was an apophatic mystic. I'm not keen on Plato's Philosopher-Kings, either.

Monism always leads in the end to Dualism. Dualism creates a hell of a lot of suffering in the world. Tackling dualistic belief systems is a great way to help people reduce their suffering.

Jen 

LSP28: The Burden of Perfection

Ever notice that any good idea, when taken to extremes, can become a bad idea?

From my perspective, the biggest problem with all theories grown from apophatic roots is the burden placed on people to be perfect.

Nobody is perfect, and nobody should be expected by their spiritual leaders to take on the level of personal responsibility required in an apophatic belief system.

Apophatic belief systems are found in every culture and in every major world religion. Strict monastic lifestyles, as cultivated within Theravada Buddhism and Roman Catholicism, are two examples of this way of life. But they're not the only examples. In fact, atheism brings to bear on its adherents the same extreme burden of perfection found within certain religious sects. This is because all apophatic belief systems (whether theistic, non-theistic, or atheistic) share one thing in common: an absolute hatred of the humbleness/courage/forgiveness paradigm preached by spiritual teachers such as the Hebrew philosopher Job (author of the Bible's Book of Job) and the Jewish philosopher Jesus (author of the Bible's Kingdom paradigm).

I don't use the word "hatred" lightly. Apophatic assumptions about consciousness, life, evolution, learning, and relationships are completely different from the assumptions made by cataphatic thinkers. Apophatics consider Kingdom teachings an affront to their intellectual authority and prowess.

Apophatic beliefs are based on the preeminence of the human mind -- on a belief in the ability of the human mind to dramatically alter the universe. Apophatic teachings, drawing on the natural authority they see in the Materialist laws of cause and effect, are highly anthropocentric. They see human beings as a group "set apart" by their special mental powers to play a supremely important role in Creation (or on plain ol' Planet Earth, if you're an atheist). It follows from this (say the apophatics) that human beings have a huge responsibility to themselves and to the planet to scrupulously follow every law they can think of. Anything short of perfection is considered a failure. It's therefore not only acceptable but completely necessary to find the flaws in everything you see around you so you can "fix" them. Inevitably, this leads to the idea that if you always exert the right effort at the right time in the right way (etc., etc.) you -- personally -- can change the whole world.

Not the world inside you, or the part of the world you're connected to, or the people you know, or the garden you're digging, or the school you're building  . . . but the whoooooole wooooooorld. And if you fall short of the ultimate goal of achieving full liberation from the cycle of rebirth dictated by the laws of Karma (with the side benefit of using your newfound universal freedom/godhead to help others on Planet Earth escape their suffering), well, then, you're just an awful, unworthy failure, aren't you? You shoulda tried harder!

So apophatic thinkers are always trying harder, always striving for perfection, always obsessively worshipping. Or working. Or counting. Always rating themselves in comparison to other people. Always judging others "who aren't trying hard enough." Always holding grudges, holding onto anger, holding onto denial. Always refusing to love. Always refusing to accept.

Meanwhile, cataphatic teachings (as represented by the Kingdom teachings of Jesus) maintain that our universe is guided by both Materialist and non-Materialist laws of science (not just Materialist laws) so it's pretty hard for the limited human mind to figure everything out by itself. We're responsible for the personal choices we make. Our inner self -- the part each of us is responsible for -- is the Kingdom Jesus refers to. But we're not responsible for the whole universe and everything in it. It's okay for us to have limits and it's okay for us to lean on others and on God. It's okay for us to trust God.

It would be easy to say the apophatic thinker sees the glass as half empty and the cataphatic thinker sees it as half full. But it's much more than that. It's more along the lines of this: the apophatic thinker sees himself as a very big glass in a very small pond, whereas the cataphatic thinker sees himself as a very small glass in a very big pond.

Perfect imperfection. Photo credit JAT 2026.

The apophatic thinker sees himself as a very big glass in a very small pond -- but he also thinks he's not yet a big enough glass. He wants to be so big and so important in the world pond that his glass will be completely full -- so full it will allow him to become "one substance" with the Oneness he calls Source (or Money or Success). He thinks he's so clever and so important in the grand scheme of things that the pond will somehow dry up if he doesn't jump right in there to save it (and everybody in it) by using his "one substance." He has a Saviour complex.

Meanwhile, the cataphatic thinker, who sees himself as a very small glass in a very big pond, looks around the pool filled with all manner of life and says, "Hey, this is a beautiful place. I see a muddy patch over there where I can hang out with my buddies and have some fun. No one will mind. It's a big pond, and there's room for everybody. I'll learn what I can from everyone else. I'll build something, create something, and share something. hen I'll pick up my garbage, go home, and be grateful for the good (but imperfect) day I've had. Cool!"

Apophatics don't do cool.

Addendum January 5, 2018:  Interesting research has just been published about the rise of three types of perfectionism among millennials: "Students are feeling more pressure than ever to be perfectionists" by reporter Vanessa Hrvati. According to the article, Dr. Thomas Curran, one of the authors of the scientific study, "described the need to be perfect as a 'hidden epidemic' that could potentially underpin many of the mental health issues students face, ranging from anxiety to depression."


For Further Reflection:

Would it help you to know that, from God's point of view, there's no such thing as a perfect human being?

When God says it's okay for you to be born as a human being on Planet Earth, it's not because God has plans for you to become more "perfect." It's because God has plans for you to know yourself better, to know your fellow angels better, and to know Mother Father God better. But "knowing" yourself is a lot different from matching yourself to a "template of perfection" for an ideal human being. In fact, knowing more about yourself is the very opposite of trying to become an ideal human being. Knowing yourself is essential to the Humbleness paradigm of boundaries and relationships. Forcing yourself to be squeezed into the teeny-tiny box of perfectionism means you're not allowing yourself to be who you really are.

Part of the problem is that although we're very different from each other as persons-of-soul (that is, as children of God), God has given all of us very similar biological bodies as human beings. So it's hard for us to accept that it's okay for us to be similar on the outside but radically different from each other on the inside -- different in terms of our temperaments, interests, abilities, learning styles, relationship styles, and so on.

If we were to wander around one of the multitudinous ecosystems of Planet Earth, we would see at a glance an abundance of species all around us. We'd notice that no two species are exactly alike. We wouldn't question the reality that each species has unique talents and attributes, talents we cherish and are continually amazed by. (How many people have looked at a hawk and not envied its ability to ride the unseen thermals of the sky?) Further, we'd quickly observe that within each species there are many individual variations of colouring, temperament, adaptability, leadership ability, and longevity. Abundance of talent is what we expect when we look at God's creatures here on Earth. It's supposed to be that way. And we have no trouble accepting that a hawk can't be a hare. Or vice versa.

We forget this when we look at ourselves, though. Many of us just can't seem to get past the idea that our outsides are 90% of our story. We reason that if 90% of a hawk's story is in its body, and if 90% of a hare's story is in its body, then 90% of a human's story must also be in its body. This, after all, is the inevitable conclusion that derives from atheistic theories such as natural selection and non-theistic evolution.

Fundamental to atheistic cosmogonies about life on Planet Earth is the belief -- nay, the certainty -- that there is no soul, so obviously there can be no soul to shape the inner landscape of each unique human being. From this starting point flows the assumption that each human being is really just a bunch of interchangeable 3D building blocks. And from this comes the inescapable "fact" that these building blocks must be perfectible if only we can acquire the right knowledge.

Eat this food. Take this pill. Do this exercise. Obey this commandment. Be a prisoner of the DNA you were born with. Don't you dare have the temerity to believe your inner self is a whole lot bigger than your DNA says you are. Don't ask who you really are as a Soul. Lower the bar for yourself. Lower the bar for your children and your neighbours. Be the least you can be. But throw yourself on the mercy of the wise leaders who tell you how to perfect your 3D human self, and maybe - just maybe - you'll be lucky enough to have a few fleeting moments of Happiness.

When Michelangelo was lying on the scaffolding of the Sistine Chapel so he could paint its famous ceiling, I doubt very much he was thinking about his perfect pasta intake or how many steps he'd walked that day. He was just trying to be himself -- not a baker or a teacher or a soldier, but an artist.

I also doubt any other human being could have told the story Michelangelo told in the precise and lasting way he told it.

He was one of a kind, an imperfect child of God with a unique inner story and a unique way of sharing it.

As all of us are when we allow ourselves to be who we really are.