I’m drawing a line in the sand today. As of now, only two camps exist in the world of religious views: atheists (my camp) and theists (the other camp). A theist is anyone who believes in a higher power—a “god,” so to speak. This group includes Catholics, Zoroastrians, Hindus, agnostics, Protestants, deists, Jews, Muslims, and non-practicing or non-denominational believers. While I could spend a great deal of time from here attacking and criticizing each of those groups, I have a specific subset in mind I’d like to tackle today, although it’s really an amalgam of a few groups. So, I’m going to give them a new name, a new categorization: the “casual theists.”
A casual theist may be agnostic, a deist, or a non-practicing believer. What they all have in common is that they believe in a higher power (or, in the case of agnostics, don’t rule it out as a good possibility) but either do not believe in or do not follow any of the organized religions. Simply put, their stance is that god exists but he is not the god of any religious creed standing, although he most certainly shares many characteristics ascribed to him within them.
The problem comes in with where the idea of god comes from in the first place. Granted, it is impossible to know with any certainty its origin, but speculation and clearheaded, disinterested consideration lead to a fairly likely theory: God is a human fabrication.
Let’s look at things another way. If the concept of god did not exist, but god himself did, then nobody today would believe in him, regardless. Even Christians would have to agree with this logic—their belief is based on scriptures, the revealed word of Yahweh. It would be impossible to believe in a god without his (or her . . .) intervention, any more than a child could believe in Santa Claus if the familiar myth did not exist. It is simply not a belief that would even be an option.
Similarly, let’s say Santa Claus did exist, but it was becoming trendy amongst certain skeptical circles to deny his existence. Sooner or later, someone would get a photo of jolly old Saint Nick. Or an expedition to the North Pole would ensue, resulting in his capture and, quite possibly, relocation to Guantanamo Bay for interrogation. With proof of Santa Claus’s existence, nobody in his or her right mind would be able to say that Santa Claus is “made-up.” But, of course, Santa Claus is made-up. So, in the real-world, upon reaching a certain age, children are told the truth, and nobody in their right mind still believes he exists.
But let’s push the Santa Claus analogy a bit further. Imagine if some very sadistic parents went to great lengths to keep their unfortunate little son—we’ll call him Simplicio (Latin for “stupid”)—from ever discovering that Santa was not real. All through Simplicio’s life, his parents sneak to his house and deliver presents, even when he’s a grown man. They stage elaborate bits of evidence (reindeer tracks in the snow outside, letters from Santa, etc.) and point to them constantly as proof that Santa is real, knowing all along that it is not true.
These three scenarios describe the three major groups of believers: the first, where a child believes in Santa without the idea ever having existed, is like what deists believe. These are the believers of the so-called “watchmaker creator,” an idea literally invented during the Renaissance (more than likely, at least, but possibly slightly earlier) and popularized in the Age of Enlightenment (the 17th and 18th centuries). The basic idea is that a creator exists who made the universe (like a watch), then stepped back from his creation and let it do its thing. He has no involvement in daily life, he doesn’t listen to prayers, he doesn’t judge people. He is simply the creator, and that’s it. But this idea was simply fabricated during a time of enlightenment and reason when people were becoming disillusioned by organized religion but uncomfortable with the idea of a world without a creator. That is, deism was “made-up.” The idea did not come from god himself, but from the human imagination—just as the idea of Santa Claus would not come to a child from Santa Claus himself (who does not exist), but from the human imagination. As such, it carries no weight.
In the scenario where Santa does exist but nobody believes in him until hard proof is given, we find the atheists. The point is, until someone goes out and pulls God aside and proves that he is in fact real, atheists will not believe in him—even if the vast majority of people still do so. It is simply irrational to do so without hard proof—of which not a single shred exists.
And the final scenario, the one where poor Simplicio is being tricked by his malevolent parents into believing in Santa Claus, well . . . those are all the people the whole world over who ascribe themselves to any religious institution. Simply put, they are being tricked through false evidence (miracles are the big one), forged letters (religious texts), and an abhorrent abuse of trust. To discover the truth, they really need only look and see that Santa’s handwriting is the same as their parents’ (just as the book of Genesis is the same as the Enuma Elish or the Epic of Gilgamesh); that presents are a distraction from the truth (like the promise of an afterlife); or even consider the ridiculous notion of an old man, complete with toy-making elves, delivering presents all over the world in one night based on his personal judgment of people’s morals, a highly-subjective subject (sort of like thinking about talking snakes, virgin births, burning bushes that can talk . . . or maybe just an omnipotent old being, complete with messenger angels, delivering people to an afterlife based on his revealed judgment of people’s morals, a highly prescriptive subject). But, alas, they proudly wear the shutter of “faith” to block their gaze from the truth, thereby remaining blissfully unaware that their lives are based on fiction.
Yet another group exists, though. This group is the group of first-graders who hear from one or two friends that Santa Claus is not, in fact, real. They at first reject the judgment, offering all sorts of “evidence”: the letters, the sound of bells on the roof on Christmas Eve, the time their father got coal, etc. These same youngsters inevitably go home and ask their parents, and are told they were lied to, that Santa is most definitely real. So the children go on believing, trusting their parents. But the more they think about it, plenty of reasons exist for why the evidence is faulty and insufficient . . . sooner or later, they stop believing all together. They become atheists. But what if some people continued believing in Santa Claus, despite no good evidence? These are the casual theists, waiting to grow up.
But enough foolish talk of Santa Claus—my overall point is, of course, belief in a god is as reasonable as believing in Santa Claus. Hardly a new idea, this notion has recently been popularized by the likes of Richard Dawkins and the Pastafarian Movement with the Flying Spaghetti Monster. What I’m getting at is the danger of being a casual theist. If you wish to suspend all disbelief and submit to the scriptures, believe in any denominational god, that’s your decision. It’s a bad one, I posit, but not even so bad as being a casual theist. Here’s why.
Casual theists have no evidence to support their suspicion. After all, without regard for and faith in the scriptures, the revealed, divine word of a god, what proof is there of his existence? If the real god is something entirely different from the way he’s portrayed in all religions, then we have no real portrayal of him at all. Indeed, the truth is, we are simply hoping, insecurely, that he exists while mentally conceiving him to be something different from the scriptures in existence. But, do we see the catch here? If not for the preconceived notions of god given through religion, we wouldn’t be considering the conundrum at all. Casual theists are the hurt first-graders, recently confronted with the truth that they’ve been lied to by their own parents, but who continue to believe in Santa nonetheless. Well, it’s time to grow up.
From my experience, two major forms of religious mobility exist. Theists can become atheists and casual theists can become theists. Rarely do atheists move to either camp, and rarely do casual theists move to the atheist camp (perhaps they are simply too indifferent about god in the beginning to move further to the point of erasing him from their lives entirely?).
The reason casual theists tend to move toward theism is for the same reason they cleave to a belief in a god to begin with—as I say above, insecurity (so often, this pathetic emotion is the cause of life’s mistakes . . .). Insecurity with the idea of a world without a creator, insecurity with the notion of life being finite and death being the end, insecurity with a world without absolute morality, insecurity with a life without higher purpose or meaning. Rampant insecurity. As a result, the false promises of various theist organizations (that is to say, churches) invariably begin to sound downright appealing—especially considering the “evidence” presented and the crooked historical/theological scholarship backing it. Churches have a way of convincing members to join, and their method is simply telling them what they want to hear. They know it’s hopeless trying to convert atheists, so they go after the casual theists instead. And traditionally, atheists were happy to lump themselves alongside the casual theists (how many surveys have a check box next to “Atheist/Agnostic,” as if they were the same thing?). But I’m no longer happy to do so. To quote Ken Kesey, “You’re either on the bus or off the bus.” No in-between exists.
To all you casual theists out there reading this rant piece, pick a side. Choose a team. Either come join the atheist camp or join the theist camp. But if you join the other team, be warned: We atheists are growing, we are spreading, and we are tired of being silenced. Tread carefully.
Note: Thanks to Kari Kohler for the image. I use it without permission.
Note: Thanks to Kari Kohler for the image. I use it without permission.
