09-27-2010, 02:03 PM
I am as guilty as anyone of ridiculing religious belief and this article in today's Independent makes interesting and thought-provoking reading.
I have always tried to be careful when committing myself to the written word to make a clear distinction between a person's right to hold whatever views they like about the so-called mysteries of life, but whether or not they are based on belief or evidence they had better be ready to account for them if we get into discussion.
I was brought up in a quasi-Christian cult and only managed to begin the work of shaking off its tentacles in my mid-twenties. I think I still bear a lot of scars and I know that my intolerance of unsubstantiated and inexplicable religious theological dogma is heavily bound up in discovering that four generations of my family have been hoodwinked by the lies that I was brought up to accept without question. As Mr Vallely has noted, I may have shaken off the dogma, but an awful lot of stuff has stuck. Now in his eighties, my father has discovered the same thing for himself and is having a "hell of a time" dealing with it. Naturally my anger is exercised on his behalf too, not to mention on behalf of those of my children and their children who are perpetuating these same beliefs. However, much as I want to, I do not preach atheism to my children, although I have always expected them to be able to have thought through their reasons for their decisions. I know how much their faith is central to their lives and, as a father , I do not see it as my role to hack away at whatever they ground themselves in. I can only be there, as I have always tried to be, to enter into discussion knowing that some subjects are difficult and, in practical terms often best avoided, love them unconditionally and be there in moments of joy and sorrow as best as I am able. My kids are all adults and are quite capable of making decisions for themselves no matter how irrational I may consider their reasons. That, by no stretch of the imagination means that I consider that I am right and they are wrong. There are too many things in life to be able to understand them all.
Thinking about Paul Vallely's article, he seems to be making a case for minorities, whether based on gender, race, sexuality or religion, being given due consideration when arriving at decisions affecting social policy. The size or constituency of the minority is irrelevant, but his view seems to be that it is possible to accommodate all sensibilities.
From where I stand this is only really possible in a completely secular state. Once in power a particular interest group will naturally coagulate into factions that tend to favour their own. The bishops in the House of Lords are a prime example of this. Also, if you read the link I posted yesterday about a governor resigning from a church school you will see an example of how this dynamic works in our communities too. I am not optimistic about the present coalition government's plans to devolve prime functions away from government and local administrations to interest groups in order to save money and coincidentally perpetuate something called a "Big Society". If we stop looking for a moment people separate themselves into groups in which they feel comfortable. Segregation in education played its part in contributing to the troubles in Northern Ireland. If those of us who lived through the worst of those years thought that was bad I suspect we haven't seen anything yet :frown:
Constructing social policy with reference to minorities is a recipe for ghettoisation and disenfranchisement. If we, for example, sincerely believe that God has told us not to have sex with another man then we should only go with women, but whatever we believe should be personal and not the basis for recruitment of like-minded soldiers who will be expected to protect and promote our outlook on life. When the bishops complain that "aggressive atheists" wish to force religion out of public life and only take place behind closed doors they are, of course, being disingenuous. As usual, they forget some of the fundamental teachings of their saviour, including his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple.
So, my question: to what extent is ambiguity as an enemy of stability the challenge that we have to face? As gay, bi, lesbian and transgendered people I think we have had to fight hard to find stability. Sadly, some of us will never find it. However, with our views on bisexuality, feminine men and the curious passer-through, how well do we ourselves cope with ambiguity?
I have always tried to be careful when committing myself to the written word to make a clear distinction between a person's right to hold whatever views they like about the so-called mysteries of life, but whether or not they are based on belief or evidence they had better be ready to account for them if we get into discussion.
I was brought up in a quasi-Christian cult and only managed to begin the work of shaking off its tentacles in my mid-twenties. I think I still bear a lot of scars and I know that my intolerance of unsubstantiated and inexplicable religious theological dogma is heavily bound up in discovering that four generations of my family have been hoodwinked by the lies that I was brought up to accept without question. As Mr Vallely has noted, I may have shaken off the dogma, but an awful lot of stuff has stuck. Now in his eighties, my father has discovered the same thing for himself and is having a "hell of a time" dealing with it. Naturally my anger is exercised on his behalf too, not to mention on behalf of those of my children and their children who are perpetuating these same beliefs. However, much as I want to, I do not preach atheism to my children, although I have always expected them to be able to have thought through their reasons for their decisions. I know how much their faith is central to their lives and, as a father , I do not see it as my role to hack away at whatever they ground themselves in. I can only be there, as I have always tried to be, to enter into discussion knowing that some subjects are difficult and, in practical terms often best avoided, love them unconditionally and be there in moments of joy and sorrow as best as I am able. My kids are all adults and are quite capable of making decisions for themselves no matter how irrational I may consider their reasons. That, by no stretch of the imagination means that I consider that I am right and they are wrong. There are too many things in life to be able to understand them all.
Thinking about Paul Vallely's article, he seems to be making a case for minorities, whether based on gender, race, sexuality or religion, being given due consideration when arriving at decisions affecting social policy. The size or constituency of the minority is irrelevant, but his view seems to be that it is possible to accommodate all sensibilities.
From where I stand this is only really possible in a completely secular state. Once in power a particular interest group will naturally coagulate into factions that tend to favour their own. The bishops in the House of Lords are a prime example of this. Also, if you read the link I posted yesterday about a governor resigning from a church school you will see an example of how this dynamic works in our communities too. I am not optimistic about the present coalition government's plans to devolve prime functions away from government and local administrations to interest groups in order to save money and coincidentally perpetuate something called a "Big Society". If we stop looking for a moment people separate themselves into groups in which they feel comfortable. Segregation in education played its part in contributing to the troubles in Northern Ireland. If those of us who lived through the worst of those years thought that was bad I suspect we haven't seen anything yet :frown:
Constructing social policy with reference to minorities is a recipe for ghettoisation and disenfranchisement. If we, for example, sincerely believe that God has told us not to have sex with another man then we should only go with women, but whatever we believe should be personal and not the basis for recruitment of like-minded soldiers who will be expected to protect and promote our outlook on life. When the bishops complain that "aggressive atheists" wish to force religion out of public life and only take place behind closed doors they are, of course, being disingenuous. As usual, they forget some of the fundamental teachings of their saviour, including his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple.
So, my question: to what extent is ambiguity as an enemy of stability the challenge that we have to face? As gay, bi, lesbian and transgendered people I think we have had to fight hard to find stability. Sadly, some of us will never find it. However, with our views on bisexuality, feminine men and the curious passer-through, how well do we ourselves cope with ambiguity?