Religion has often been a crutch for the hopelessly weak and pathetic. One of the many claims that I've heard so many people make is that people who were previously not religious declare suddenly the existence of God and convert on their deathbed. Every creationist at some point or another has claimed that Darwin converted to Christianity on his deathbed... Something which is known to be untrue. I've had people claim to me that Einstein converted from Judaism to Christianity on his deathbead, which is funny since Einstein was essentially only a Jew by descent, and anything he said on his deathbed can't possibly be known because he is on record as having said it all in German... and none of the attending doctors or nurses understood enough German to decipher it. Richard Dawkins quipped at one point that he would put a tape recorder by his deathbed to ensure that nobody mistakes what he says.
Christopher Hitchens died last night of complications from his esophageal cancer. He did not convert. He did not call out for any god's help. He did not accept anything supernatural right down to the very end. He laid down his final "Hitchslap" with that.
In an interview some months back after Hitch had gone through a few cycles of chemo and radiation, the interviewer said that religious idiots predicted that he'd convert in his final days. Hitchens responded rather beautifully to that, pointing out that even if that prediction were to come true, it would only illustrate the inherently flawed nature of even using that claim.
Most people are just generally afraid of their own mortality. They do not cope well with the idea of the lives they enjoy and experience amongst friends and loved ones coming to an end. Even those of us who do not generally fear death, would not be likely to welcome its arrival. When they lie mere moments away from death, facing the realization of the nothingness that will follow, it's not uncommon to enter a state of panicked, irrational blubbering. In Hitchens' words, if he were to convert on his deathbed, it would only be the result of a severe breakdown of his normal faculties as the sense of impending oblivion grew stronger. As such, it should not be taken as anything more than the irrational babbling of a broken human being.
Hitchens of course, was a "Grumpy Anti-theist" well before I was born. He never broke, and that is pretty much what all of us in the atheist community expected given his character. Showing... quite clearly... that he is greater in death than any creationist is in life. We don't accept that there is anything to look forward to afterwards. We don't look for solace in delusional visions of fluffy white clouds or in the rebirth of our self-identities in the body of another creature. We approach mortality with open eyes and a clear mind without the atavistic retreat into the notion that our deaths are not really real death. Do we want to die? Of course not. Nobody wants to die. But it will happen to us all. Our loved ones, and those whose lives we touched will feel the sorrow and even if there was an afterlife, there would be nothing you could ever do about that.
Do not give me that codswallop about "I don't see death as the end. It's a new beginning!" Yeah, "new beginning"... which still means something old ended. Those of us with a working neocortex actually realize this. Hitchens understood that full well and maintained his fiery aggression and sharp tongue right down to the twilight moment. Somewhere out there on the blogosphere, there is a creationist hooey-peddler claiming that Chris Hitchens is in hell. Somewhere else, there is another claiming he accepted Jesus Christ as his saviour in the depths of his soul at the final second. Somewhere else still, a blogger is imagining his soul in another realm sipping double jiggers of Johnnie Walker Black. Okay, the Johnnie Walker part fits, but still. There's one thing in common with all of these statements. Every one of them is untrue. Chris' brother, a creationist himself, at least realized this much and did not deny it in his memoriam. But I suppose it is too much to ask of other creationists to actually say things that are true.
He didn't live that way, so why would he die that way?
Christopher Hitchens died last night of complications from his esophageal cancer. He did not convert. He did not call out for any god's help. He did not accept anything supernatural right down to the very end. He laid down his final "Hitchslap" with that.
In an interview some months back after Hitch had gone through a few cycles of chemo and radiation, the interviewer said that religious idiots predicted that he'd convert in his final days. Hitchens responded rather beautifully to that, pointing out that even if that prediction were to come true, it would only illustrate the inherently flawed nature of even using that claim.
Most people are just generally afraid of their own mortality. They do not cope well with the idea of the lives they enjoy and experience amongst friends and loved ones coming to an end. Even those of us who do not generally fear death, would not be likely to welcome its arrival. When they lie mere moments away from death, facing the realization of the nothingness that will follow, it's not uncommon to enter a state of panicked, irrational blubbering. In Hitchens' words, if he were to convert on his deathbed, it would only be the result of a severe breakdown of his normal faculties as the sense of impending oblivion grew stronger. As such, it should not be taken as anything more than the irrational babbling of a broken human being.
Hitchens of course, was a "Grumpy Anti-theist" well before I was born. He never broke, and that is pretty much what all of us in the atheist community expected given his character. Showing... quite clearly... that he is greater in death than any creationist is in life. We don't accept that there is anything to look forward to afterwards. We don't look for solace in delusional visions of fluffy white clouds or in the rebirth of our self-identities in the body of another creature. We approach mortality with open eyes and a clear mind without the atavistic retreat into the notion that our deaths are not really real death. Do we want to die? Of course not. Nobody wants to die. But it will happen to us all. Our loved ones, and those whose lives we touched will feel the sorrow and even if there was an afterlife, there would be nothing you could ever do about that.
Do not give me that codswallop about "I don't see death as the end. It's a new beginning!" Yeah, "new beginning"... which still means something old ended. Those of us with a working neocortex actually realize this. Hitchens understood that full well and maintained his fiery aggression and sharp tongue right down to the twilight moment. Somewhere out there on the blogosphere, there is a creationist hooey-peddler claiming that Chris Hitchens is in hell. Somewhere else, there is another claiming he accepted Jesus Christ as his saviour in the depths of his soul at the final second. Somewhere else still, a blogger is imagining his soul in another realm sipping double jiggers of Johnnie Walker Black. Okay, the Johnnie Walker part fits, but still. There's one thing in common with all of these statements. Every one of them is untrue. Chris' brother, a creationist himself, at least realized this much and did not deny it in his memoriam. But I suppose it is too much to ask of other creationists to actually say things that are true.
He didn't live that way, so why would he die that way?
You are right when you say most of us are weak and want a crutch. We also want not to be socially ostracised so we meekly give in to others rather than stand by our own logic. Today, many so-called protectors of religion are, to my mind hardened criminals (especially in some countries) and that is another reason atheists at heart keep mum or even capitulate. Wonder if you respect people who are circumspect when it boils down to "my life or my beliefs"
ReplyDeleteI have somewhat mixed positions about this myself, to be honest. There's the pragmatic approach I have wherein someone can have certain bad ideas, but *if* nothing comes of it, it ultimately doesn't really matter. For instance, someone could be latently racist beneath the surface, but if they never do any harm or act in any distinctly racist way, I don't think it ultimately matters that much in practice. While I don't support ever having the idea in the first place, an environment where nothing comes of it means that in the long run, the idea will just disappear on its own.
DeleteOf course, the reason why religion doesn't get this live-and-let-live treatment from me is because it DOES show this sort of harm, and it DOES get its tendrils reaching about in all sorts of ways. Entire political parties in a developed nation like the U.S. have become dedicated to theocracy. Religious people DO want to shove their beliefs down your throat.
As for respecting those who are cautious about voicing their positions, I would say it's natural, but I do also think that many of them would *like* to be more vocal about it and feel they can't afford to. In those cases, I would say they need encouragement more than anything else. And in some ways, I think this applies both to atheists and theists alike. Sure, there is value in being judicious about when and where you "come out"... My father had to deal with this quite a bit as he is also a firm atheist, but he worked it in gently by taking part in serious analytical discussion with a knowledge about religion itself, and he never actually had to say it straight out. Others just got it.
There are those, though, who deliberately avoid being vocal because they can't handle confrontation, and of that, I'm not very respectful... especially the sanctimonious ones who complain about us being strident and pretend that letting religious people have their way is more "fair" and "even-handed".
Sure, there is value in being judicious about when and where you "come out" - I'm glad you said that.
ReplyDeleteYour father using his knowledge of religion to support his belief in atheism and others understanding his premise - I guess that is the kind of "confrontation" I value and appreciate.