Because of reasons (for which expression I hat-tip ThirdCat, via Deborah), I last night read the entire comments thread to ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Emma’s recent post at PA. The thread had expanded from the three or so pages it was when I last read it to forty-one pages, or 800+ posts, also because of reasons.
As I read one writer’s extended explication of her Catholic faith within the context of the thread I thought about my friends of a variety of denominations and indeed religions, and how, for so many of them, their religion is inseparable, and in many ways a product of, the culture in which they grew up. While I don’t presume to make qualitative evaluations of the nature of different people’s belief, this kind of context strikes me as potentially different from the experience of the elective convert (in which term I include people who have converted from one denomination of a religion to another). In some circumstances, therefore, a personal atheism can strengthen familial bonds–or indeed weaken them–in a cultural as well as ontological manner, just as faith can. (I’ve written about my atheism in this regard before, and don’t intend to rehearse these arguments again here.)
It occurs to me that I can tolerate theism mostly from a distance only. I can’t accept that it is a rational response to life, even as I acknowledge its power as an emotional, cultural and ideological response. Additionally, I have no wish to debate this point with others. It is as clear to me as belief is to other people. I should signal that I do not intend this as any kind of personal slight on the writer within the thread from whose words my thoughts proceed; she was after all responding to the questions of others and I do not want this post to be read as a backhanded attack on her (that would be both sneaky and rude).
The señor sometimes comments that I still think religiously but within an atheist framework, whereas he has no religious upbringing but acknowledges the possibility of god. This is a source of humour rather than tension for us. The residual emotions I have, however, from this modest but close encounter are what I was left with all those years ago: dismay, disdain and a kind of fretfulness somewhere above despair. This also, no doubt, contributes to the lack of much of a theme or argument in this post.
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{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
I haven’t read the thread so this is not a comment on that but on your post and on my experiences. I grew up Catholic and was even extremely religious for awhile in my teens. Atheism came on gradually till one day, with a great sense of relief, I realised I no longer believed. For a long time after that I still felt culturally Catholic and to this day I confess I miss aspects of it. There was something deeply reassuring about having the year marked out by various rituals- Pancake Tuesday, Lent, Palm Sunday, Easter and so forth. In a very odd way I regret that my daughter isn’t going a first communion or the sort of family rituals I grew up with of Mass on Sunday and croissants afterwards even though she’ll have other memories to compensate. I must admit also that I find I am often quite drawn to people who are ex Catholics. For better or worse it is a huge part of what shaped me- but increasingly, what the Catholic church itself stands for has become so abhorrent to me, that even if I were still religious, I would probably convert to Anglicanism.
I too miss the ritual divisions of the year (I grew up Anglican) and recall being surprised when I learned that many of the Pentecostal and evangelical churches that my school friends went to had no such calendar. (I guess it was all Pentecost, all of the time.) Like you I was a pious and religiously serious teenager. I suspect that if I hadn’t developed depression my belief might not have faded out so swiftly, but I also think that the liberal arts education into which I threw myself, more or less heart and soul, at university, put me on a collision course with faith that I would have had to reckon at some point.
Being an Anglican in Christchurch was a curious thing, since it some neighbourhoods it is still deeply tied up with colonial power and old money, while in others it’s much more of a working-class faith. I saw both faces in my job as a church organist and could never quite reconcile them. Similarly there was a strong liberal/evangelical split among the parishes which I think persists today.
I was raised in a Presbyterian household, but realised very early on that I wasn’t a religious person – I was completely through the break-away process at ten.
But my partner was raised in a completely atheist household, and we still occasionally run across profound cultural differences between us because of it. It’s odd that something that neither of us consider particularly significant to us can make such a difference.
Emma’s last post was Busytown: What You Want (Baby We’ve Got It)
I have noticed that the jokes about Christians and parodying of the Trinity that used so to bother me as a teenager no longer grate (this, for example, is one of my favourite things). However, I still get irritable when people make jokes about the women in the Bible, specifically Mary Magdalene. This is probably an extension of my feminism, but the señor finds it hilarious when I accuse him of blaspheming on this account.
As a lifelong supporter of blasphemy and sacrilege in all their forms, I’m going to want to know what that favourite thing of your is. The link doesn’t seem to work at my end at least.
Giovanni’s last post was The Museum of You (3): Something You Lost
My apologies: I had left out some of the html. It should work now, although you may have seen it already.
No I hadn’t. Sacrelicious…
Giovanni’s last post was The Museum of You (3): Something You Lost
I also recall one occasion as an undergraduate in which a student group held a “False Messiah Olympics” around the students’ association and the river. Dressed as Jesuses, they competed in various obstacle- and procession-type events. Not sure if it was a KAOSian enterprise or not–what do you think, Emma?