An Atheist’s Life of Faith
Does atheism offer a philosophical equivalent to a Christian’s life of faith? This essay, a review of the rationalist thinker Bertrand Russell’s seminal book Why I Am Not A Christian suggests that Russell lived his own life of faith, in part based on difficulties he rightly saw in Christianity.
Book Review: Bertrand Russell’s Why I Am Not A Christian
Do you know why you are a Christian? If you are a non-believer, do you know why you are not a Christian? Regardless of what side you fall on with respect to this issue, Bertrand Russell’s collection of essays titled Why I Am Not A Christian is an insight into the life of faith for an atheist. Those that seek to vilify Russell do so at the expense of their own belief system and the value that rational thinkers like Russell have added to the world.
Russell was not asking simple minded questions - he was struggling with some of the deepest issues that have plagued mankind through out time. Where Russell was asked to take a step of faith he could not - perhaps for matters of the heart, but certainly also for matters of the head. For it was here, in Russell’s mind, that he struggled to equate the close minded, needlessly pious religious people of the day with the ultimate spiritual ethos he believed true spirituality should result in. Russell is less a proponent of rational thinking than a tombstone to religion being an adequate vehicle of spiritual growth and an aid in people’s spiritual journey.
Men like Russell and Nietzsche hailed the advent of rational thought which in that day required the “death of God.” Is God dead? As we will see, parts of the God of Bertrand Russell are in fact dead and gone; it remains to Christians to show whether or not the true God still exists, can still shape hearts and minds, and is still active in human history.
The Role of Religion Versus the Role of Spirituality
There can be little doubt that Russell’s primary resistance to Christianity lay in his denial of the value of institutionalized religion. As I write this - 10:10 on another Sunday morning when I do not have the energy to explore another church - I have to agree. Finding a church I feel I belong in has been very problematic. Granted, where I live is a bastion of conservative thinking. It has been difficult to go to any church in my area over the last twelve months and not hear about how our troops in Iraq are protecting our right to worship. For me, such reasoning smacks of what Russell resisted against - religion being used as an institution of power as opposed to a shepherd guiding people through their spiritual lives. Frankly, I find little to rejoice in at church - too many three point sermons (all starting with one letter of course) about two verses of Scripture. The deepest questions, those that I know I and my friends struggle with - questions about the nature of God, the purpose of suffering, the place of charity and love in our worldview - these all seem to be fodder for anything other than preaching.
Russell’s resistance to religion went deeper than my resistance to religion is currently; however, it does not go any farther than I, in my darker moments, went. “I say quite deliberately that the Christian religion, as organized in its churches, has been and still is the principal enemy of moral progress in the world.” (page 21) Let me say this once and say this clearly: on this point - especially at the time in history when this collection of essays was written and the culture from which his perspective was born - Russell is correct. Only the most simple minded of apologists would attempt to argue that the trans-historical, cross-cultural church has not repeatedly stood for institutionalized political and socio-economic power. Russell hailed from Europe, a country scarred by religious wars of such propensity that one could not claim the moral high ground within any community of faith. Russell also came from a nation-state, England, that had a dubious history of a national church intertwined with government in many nefarious ways that had negatively impacted English history and the European continent.
Many Christians of the non-Catholic variety seek to distance themselves from the dubious history of the Catholic church in the Middle Ages only to find themselves equally intolerance of basic issues current in our day and age about separation of Church and State. Fundamentalists of our day look to political power to resolve matters of the heart - abortion being a classic example.
Politics have become the bed-fellow of evangelic Christianity in America largely because politics utilize group psychology - specifically the ability to manipulate large groups of people through the use of fear. “Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. Fear is the basis of the whole thing - fear of the mysterious, fear of defeat, fear of death. Fear is the parent of cruelty, and therefore it is not wonder if cruelty and religion have gone hand in hand.” (page 22)”
In America, the role of religion in politics has become a question of what is the “cause” and what is the “effect.” Are religious people political or are political people religious? I think most of us would agree that it is rare indeed to find a religious person who seeks out politics as an outgrowth of his faith. How many political leaders embrace religion during an election cycle, only to find themselves sparse practitioners when asked to vote on the floor of the Congress? In the same vein, many religious people - specifically fundamentalists - preach about the evils of pluralism only to set aside their hate filled language and take up arms with people they previously spoke hatefully of on sophomoric issues like gun control and tax cuts. It is in this disconnect that Russell sees dishonesty where he rightly believes he should see truth. Russell’s comments are especially prescient to our culture. In America we would do well to investigate the roots of the conservative philosophy that American Christians espouse. Where American Christians stand up for basic conservative principles they do so in arms with philosophers like Ayn Rand - author of such polemic books as Atlas Shrugged or The Virtue of Selfishness. Russell rightly sensed, in his day, what more American Christians would do well to be sensitive to - the call to protect those more disadvantaged than we is absolutely central to meaningful Christian spirituality.
It should be with little surprise that Russell, while seeing much to rejoice by in the teachings of Christ, sees little evidence of these teachings being lived out by the Christians of his day and age: “… the teaching of Christ, as it appears in the Gospels, has had extraordinary little to do with the ethics of Christians. The most important thing about Christianity, from a social and historical point of view, is not Christ but the church, and if we are to judge of Christianity as a social force we must not go to the Gospels for our material. Christ taught that you should give your good to the poor, that you should not fight, that you should not go to church, and that you should not punish adultery. Neither Catholics nor Protestants have shown any strong desire to follow His teaching in any of these respects.” (page 25)
We must turn lastly to Russell’s most salient criticism of Christianity - that it is based on fear, fed by hubris and used to discriminate against those that do not believe as we do: “It would seem, therefore, that the three human impulses embodied in religion are fear, conceit, and hatred. The purpose of religion, one may say, is to give an air of respectability to these passions, provided they run in certain channels. It is because these passions make, on the whole, for human misery that religion is a force of evil …” (page 44)
Christians must make a choice when hearing these criticisms. The first reaction of even the most rationale of believers is to resist the truths from within Russell’s comments. I was reminded of this point last week during one conversation with a dear believer who struggles to understand the history of the church and as such can not appreciate the difficulties those that view organized religion with skepticism.
Where Christianity uses fear to motivate, control and project its truth, it does so out of concert with the call of Scripture: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.” (I John 4:18-21)
The Lives of Christians
Perhaps no more difficult point exists when responding to a deep thinker such as Russell than defending the indefensible - specifically, the frailties and foibles of Christians - myself included. We would all like to think that our lives beckon to those who do not believe as we do; yet I know for myself that my life has many times resulted in the exact opposite of this - giving people yet another reason not to believe in the reality of Christianity. Russell makes his point cynically, through a candid observation about what he has seen in the lives of fellow Christians: “I think that there are a good many points upon which I agree with Christ a great deal more than the professing Christians do.” (page 14) As we will see, it is instructive to see specifically where Russell draws this conclusion as I am confident we will find that today’s Christians would do well to remember that in many cases their faith and their politics are incompatible.
Russell’s sense of Christian hypocrisy was no where more acute than when directed towards how Christians involved themselves in social causes and politics: “Then Christ says, ‘Give to him that asketh of thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.’ That is a very good principle. Your Chairman has reminded you that we are not here to talk politics, but I cannot help observing that the last general election was fought on the question of how desirable it was to turn away from him that would borrow of thee, so that one must assume that the Liberals and Conservatives of this country are composed of people who do not agree with the teaching of Christ, because they certainly did very emphatically turn away on that occasion.” (page 15)
Personally, I no longer will accept the label of conservative to describe me first because it is not the primary label I must be known by and second because it requires of me an orthodoxy towards the poor and disenfranchised I can not accept. Having come from a state-level college leadership position within the Republican party, I can speak of this with some confidence. Republican and conservative thought, as evidenced by the lives of those politicians, ideologues and apologists, does not genuinely support the view that taking care of those less than you is the job of the individual and not that of government. I was duped into thinking this until my experience showed the horror of what conservative thought actually believed: conservative thought belittles those that are disadvantaged as being lazy, disingenuous and guilty of inaction. While such arguments may be valid in some cases, my volunteer work over the past several years has proven such associations badly wrong. Where Christian conservatives do not break lines with conservative and Republican thinking to force meaningful dialogue on social reform issues that benefit the disadvantaged we betray a fundamental part of Christian ethics - something not new to American Christians and something that feeds the animus atheist thinkers such as Russell need to deny the validity of Christianity and ultimately the reality of God.
Let me last comment on a point that I believe more Christians need to understand, a point that should delicately but profoundly affect our approach to apologetics. Russell says that: “The most important of these [Christian] emotions is fear of death, which is instinctive and biologically useful. If we genuinely and wholeheartedly believed in the future life, we should cease completely to fear death.” (page 90) Such thinking is not intended to by cynical - it is a fully rational statement that I have little doubt Russell meant to be taken exactly as it is written. As Christians we must begin to realize that the ultimate apology for our faith is going to be in our response to the suffering of the world, the pain of the downtrodden and the vagaries of power as evidenced in government, religious institutions and social bureaucracies. A foundational step towards such a worldview is to not be threatened by the questions people such as Russell ask, for in the end, Russell has much in common with the teachings of Christ, commonalities we would do well to build on and not divide over: “The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.” (emphasis mine - page 56) Words such as these have come from Christianity’s most loved apostles and He whom we claim to be our Lord.
Bertrand Russell’s God
Those few Christians who know of Bertrand Russell probably know him primarily by the label “atheist”; he would not have denied such a label. This is a very consolidated understanding of Russell’s contribution to philosophy as his mind flew to topics beyond that of religion, into some of the more important components of rational thinking.
As an ardent monotheist, I do little justice to a review of his seminal book if I do not attempt to discuss his comments about God. Russell’s view is best summarized in the following quotation: “…I for a long time accepted the argument of the First Cause, until one day, at the age of eighteen, I read John Stuart Mill’s Autobiography, and I there found this sentence: ‘My father taught me that the question ‘Who made me?’ cannot be answered, since it immediately suggests the further question ‘Who made God?’ That very simple sentence showed me, as I still think, the fallacy in the argument of the First Cause. If everything must have a cause, then God must have a cause. If there can be anything without a cause, it may just as well be the world as God, so that there cannot be any validity in that argument.” (pages 6-7)
Russell, at least in this portion of his denial of the validity of the Socratic argument of the “Uncaused Cause” is too abbreviated for the claim he is making. Russell, and perhaps he did this in a book I have not read or a lecture I will never have the privilege of hearing, is guilty of that which he seems to despise - Russell is guilty of faith. We must make no mistake about it: even the most strident and well postulated atheist thinkers are guilty of that which they proclaim to not understand within the religious community. Granted, the faith of atheists is foundationally different, but a debate that trivializes faith must present a philosophical equivalent, a viable other option. Where Russell denies God (which, as we will see later on is not something he does completely - rather, he denies the ability of the human experience to produce evidences of their being a God), he falls back on his own faith - a faith in nothingness. While I can disagree with this faith, I think he must have appreciated that he was choosing to believe about that which he could not know, that which none of us can. The reasons why we choose to believe in what we believe can be as foundationally important as the objects within which we place our belief.
Being a rationalist, Russell believed that believing in a God was a psychological need within humanity. God was, if you will, a human creation to make sense of the brevity of human existence and the solemnity of human consciousness. After all, we are little saddened by the death of fruit flies, who know life in minutes. Why? Simply put, we accept that they are not conscious of their existence. Our consciousness of our smallness in the vastness of the universe - an emotion the most primitive of man has no doubt known - has created our need for God. Christians respond to this with the argument that God put such a sense of smallness within us so that we would desire to be with Him, to know Him, to have fellowship with our Creator. Little can be done to bridge these two gulfs; however, I would suggest another perspective must be added into this dialogue.
Throughout this book, Russell takes issue with the teachings of Christianity because it requires of mankind that we deny certain desires (in Russell’s calculus, the denial of sexual morality has primacy). I would like to ask Russell this question: why is it that he views so dimly the denial of sexual desire when the most human of desires, that of believing in God, is to be viewed dimly? He is willing to let physical desire be seen innocently and acted on; but no such latitude exists in his deconstruction of meta-physical desire. As we will explore later on, I believe the answer to this question hits on the reasons, motivations if you will, for Russell’s denial of a Creator and of the implications Christianity must bring with such a concept of diety.
Brian McLaren, author of several insightful books on Christianity’s role in a post-modern world, often asks people who do not believe in God to “tell me about the God you do not believe in.” Russell leaves little doubt as to what about God he does not believe in - specifically the Church’s teaching on eternal punishment: “There is one very serious defect to my mind in Christ’s moral character, and that is that He believed in hell. I do not myself feel that any person who is really profoundly humane can believe in everlasting punishment … You do not, for instance find that attitude in Socrates. You find him quite bland and urbane toward the people who would not listen to him; and it is, to my mind, far more worthy of a sage to take that line than to take the line of indignation.” (page 17)
Russell is suffering from a vagary common to those who dispute the absolute truth of Christianity - specifically those that teach in the literalness of Scripture. And Russell is again, I would suggest, right to recoil at the Church’s teaching. The modern-day Church’s teaching about hell is, I believe, particularly off base. We would do well to seriously investigate the allegories Christ uses when talking about hell. His references to the burning fire were well known to the first century Jews Christ was speaking to. As Thomas Cahill says in his wonderful book Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus: “Gehenna - in the prophetic literature it is called ‘the Valley of Hinnom’ - was a hideous place south of Jerusalem where Canaanites once made holocausts of living children to the god Moloch and where pyres were kept burning for this purpose. Jesus uses it as an image of the ultimate horror.” (page 80)
Fundamentalists recoil in general at anything other than an absolute literal reading of Scripture, so any fine points of allegory are generally lost on such audiences. However, for people like myself who grew up on images of hell fire and brimstone, the implications of such imagery to your view of a loving God are not congruent. Ultimately, for a thinking person, such imagery will drive one to madness, or at the very least, to disbelief. It would do the world of thinking people well for more Christians to educate themselves on the allegorical elements of teachings of hell. Let us seriously consider how in Revelation death and hell - for literalists one figurative state of being and another literal place - are thrown into the lake of fire (requiring literalists to explain how hell is thrown into itself - their explanation requiring use of figurative imagery - something breaking any pattern of a consistent hermeneutic and of their standard of absolute literalness).
Where Russell is wrong, however, is in his willingness to accept that an all powerful God would require of man that choices have consequences. I see hell much in the same way as I see an addiction to McDonald’s Quarter Pounders. It should come as no surprise that such an addiction will result in high blood pressure, painful surgery and premature death. It is in such a vein that I view hell - as a natural outgrowth of a mind unwilling to bend to the revelation and mystery of a greater being and of the natural morality that is intertwined with such a reality. It is here that I believe Russell is fundamentally wrong - he sees hell literally through an intellectual framework that is not worthy of him and does not stop to pursue how, within the framework of Christian theology, free will must bear with it some consequences or else all is predetermined, meaning nothing is actually free will in action. To the extent that hell is an existence chosen by me that is absent all presence of God, it is an existence that must be deprived of all that is good - for only in the company of God is goodness possible. By default, this is a reality that is a place we would all want to avoid. Fundamentalists would do well to set down the graphic imagery of sinners burning in damnation - certainly an image more than a few take pleasure and pride in - and gather up instead the idea of an eternity where all that is good, all that is God, is separated from you. Such an existence is a horror only those desiring of a relationship with the divine can appreciate. Is the difficulty in setting aside the imagery of horror because such a heart for the divine is not present in those that so easily proclaim the damnation of others?
As we exit our analysis of Russell’s view of God, I think it is worthwhile to stop and pause at what Russell admits to regarding his understanding of ultimate diety: “I do not pretend to be able to prove that there is no God. I equally cannot prove that Satan is fiction. The Christian God may exist; so may the Gods of Olympus, or of ancient Egypt, or of Babylon. But no one of these hypotheses is more probable than any other: they lie outside the region of even probable knowledge, and therefore there is no reason to consider any of them.” (pages 50-51) We can see here again that Russell is against a mind attuned to a life of spiritual faith. Russell is not against humanistic faith, a statement I believe requires of us to read into his faith his unwillingness to accept the moral law of a being outside of our existence. I would contend that Russell’s argument was not against faith, it was against the obligations faith brought with it.
Russell’s Concept of Sin
It should come as no surprise that a man who denies God will have developed his own view of sin. Russell took umbrage at how Christianity treated sin. “No man treats a motor car as foolishly as he treats another human being. When the car will not go, he does not attribute its annoying behavior to sin; he does not say, ‘You are a wicked motorcar, and I shall not give you any more petrol until you go.’ He attempts to find out what is wrong and to set it right. An analogous way of treating human beings is, however, considered to be contrary to the truths of our holy religion.” (page 40)
Russell is making a greater point, specifically that he disagrees with the role of punishment being to teach a lesson, or for the pure sake of punishing versus a more reasonable belief that punishment is used to teach, redeem and reconcile. If any reason exists to be against certain types of punishment it is this: does the punishment help bring the person back into fellowship with his family and his community? If not, is it done purely to hurt?
Christianity struggles mightily with this concept in large part because it is threatening as to our understanding of eternity. People such as Origin who develop theologies arguing for the ultimate salvation of all do so from the belief that hell must exist to teach people of their wrong doing - but that the punishment is always to redeem and reconcile. No doubt Origin also rightly struggled with Russell’s thought that an omnipotent God could have come up with something a bit better than this reality, where so many are damned to an eternity of suffering. Both Origin and Russell were asking similar questions. Because Origin was a Christian he struggled with the right view of God where Russell had no such motivation.
Origin believed all would be saved - a teaching I for one hope is true. He could find no other recourse than to believe this based on his view of the divine power and intent behind the act of Creation - for Origin, to accept the damnation of others was to admit inadequacies in the doctrine of God’s omnipotence. He, no doubt, saw less heresy in his doctrine of universalism than he saw in the Church’s doctrine of many damned to an eternity of hell.
I fear Russell gave up too soon in his thoughts of God and of Christianity - he would have found many deep thinkers who shared his same struggles and questions, but were able to explore them without succumbing to disbelief in the actual presence of God or of the mandate of Christian living.
Man’s Struggle with Sex
Let me turn lastly to what many know about Russell: his commentary on human sexuality. In 1940, when Dr. Russell was denied the opportunity to lecture at New York City College, much of the resistance to his being a part of the teaching community was due to his writing on sexuality. His essays now seem almost quaint; it is almost pedantic to think that he was denied work due to his belief in pre-marital sex, homosexuality, or his unwillingness to apologize for an open treatment of the innate sexuality of the human body.
During my reading of this book, I was struck by how frequently Dr. Russell used examples of sex to argue his position. As a man, I can understand that Russell, when attempting to justify his rational philosophy, chose to use sex as the vehicle for exploring why Christianity’s idea of sin is incongruent with what we know to be useful and reasonable in the modern world. I do not think it overly simplistic to state that Russell’s perspective on sex was if no-one got hurt, why did it matter?
When Christians deny the authentic value, even intrinsic pleasure, of any component of life, we rob ourselves and our culture of something of value from within God’s creation. It is no different with sex. Sex is designed by God. If it were for mere copulation, orgasmic delight would not be necessary. Sex would be mechanistic, the act of orgasm more like blowing one’s nose than physical delight. The commonly accepted view among Christians is that the ‘60’s brought in a culture of free love; the pill afforded people to change sex partners like they switched shoes; our culture still reels from the open sexuality carried over from that day. But is this argument valid? I would suggest to you that Russell’s arguments about the topic of sex should be laid down against a realistic glimpse into the sexual repression of the mid 1900’s - specifically within the Christian community.
Christian fundamentalists have long lived in sexual hypocrisy: the same men who advocated the strictest prohibitions against sexual exploration were, and continue to be, merely striking out so strongly against something they struggle with themselves. Rather than be honest about their failings and struggles, they repress this desire and forge it into a mean reprisal against even the most worthy of sexual pursuits - specifically the need to properly educate their children about the passion that God has built within us.
“The gain to the human race to be expected from a rational psychology in the handling of children is almost unlimited. The most important sphere is, of course, that of sex. Children are taught a superstitious attitude about certain parts of the body, about certain words and thoughts, and about certain kinds of play to which nature prompts them. The result is that when they become adult they are stiff and awkward in all matters of love. Throughout the English-speaking world most people while still in the nursery are rendered incapable of satisfactory marriage. There is no other adult activity for which children are forbidden to prepare themselves by pay, or in regard to which there is expected to be a sudden transition from absolute taboo to perfect competence.
The sense of sin which dominates many children and young people and often lasts on into later life is a misery and a source of distortion that serves no useful purpose of any kind. It is produced almost entirely by conventional moral teaching in the sphere of sex. The feeling that sex is wicked makes happy love impossible, causing men to despise the women with whom they have relations and often to have impulses of cruelty toward them. Moreover, the indirection which is forced upon the sexual impulse when it is inhibited, leading it to take the form of sentimental friendship or religious ardor or what not, causes a lack of intellectual sincerity which is very inimical to intelligence and to the sense of reality. Cruelty, stupidity, incapacity for harmonious personal relations, and many other defects have their source in most cases in the moral teaching endured during childhood. Let it be said with the utmost simplicity and directness: there is nothing bad in sex, and the conventional attitude in this matter is morbid.” (pages 166-167 - emphasis mine)
I find much to agree with in Dr. Russell’s comments about human sexuality: specifically the recognition that most evangelical Christians teach about three components of the act of sex at the expense of a reasonable discussion about the passion and attraction of sexuality itself. First, if you are lucky enough to have parents that are even willing to educate their children about the act of sex, typically the conversation is focused on the mechanics. The discussion many times bears ominous similarity to the poorly translated bicycle assembly instructions from a cheaply imported Chinese knock-off. Second, the discussion of sex within Christianity focuses on birth control, and for good reasons. Most people who embrace an orthodox Catholic view of birth control do so out of their deep conviction of the sanctity of human life. While Russell would view such conviction as fossilized remnants of pre-modernity thinking, his view of God obviously obfuscates any view of sacredness in the creation of life. Third, Christian discussions on sex fixate on one point - don’t do it, don’t explore it, deny and repress your instincts until marriage.
The issue of human sexuality, both heterosexual and homosexual is perhaps one of the most divisive issues within the global Church. We readily acknowledge the problems of pornography within the laity and leadership; but do we grasp what these struggles may reflect? In a culture with sexuality perfected to a science (both literally in our advances in medical surgery and figuratively in the ability of marketers to package anything by introducing cleavage), is Christianity struggling to articulate the value of monogamous sexuality?
It is striking to me that people would be so upset about someone who does not accept your idea of God - who frankly denies the existence of a God - choosing to live by his own idea of morals? What about that is surprising to people? I would imagine it gives people an issue they can articulate more easily than debating him over his questions about the role of faith in proving the evidence of God.
I am not a libertine advocate of wanton sexual excess or of certain parts of Russell’s advocacy. I am, like many men of this age, a product of what could be most daintily called a culture of Christian sexual repression. Once I broke away from the fold of my sectarian upbringing, I was forced to deal with a mind untrained in passion but organically attracted to sexuality. This is no place to find yourself - trust me. It is in this tension that much damage can, and has, taken place. Where the right place of sexuality is not explained, including the component not of mechanics but of passion, less teachings solely on denial and more of attraction, the opportunity for the beauty and completeness of God-ordained monogamy can not be enjoyed.
Conclusion
We should make no mistake, Russell lived a life of faith. At times his writing shows at best frustration and at worst disgust with Christians living a life of faith. And yet, was he not doing the same? Is it any more rational, when faced with the choice to choose between faith in God and faith in nothingness, to choose the latter? It is here I can speak with some authority. In my life as an atheist it was not some deep intellectual assent that precluded my belief in God - it was my unwillingness to accept His ultimate power over me. However, still like Russell I can say that if being a Christian means being the proto-typical Republican, fundamentalist, Religious Right stereotype then I also have reason to side with Russell as to why I am not a Christian.
Russell’s mind struggled with valid questions, and I think it a dishonor to his memory and to the life of faith frankly to deny that he was on his own spiritual journey. Where you or I have been willing to live with the tension a life of faith requires in an age of reason, Russell abdicated this tension and chose to live only in a life of reason. Such a decision requires that the existence of a Christian God be denied: for no human mind can contain that which is fully outside of it. Only God and Russell know whether or not this decision was based purely on rational thought or whether or not Russell was unwilling to subject himself to limitations on his life that the existence of God and objective morality would require. I fear Russell’s “God” required of him that which Russell was unwilling to sacrifice - may this be a lesson to all of us.
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“If anyone can show me, and prove to me, that I am wrong in thought or deed, I will gladly change. I seek the truth, which never yet hurt anybody. It is only persistence in self-delusion and ignorance which does harm.”
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June 1st, 2004 at 10:25 am
Hi Ben,
It’s nice to hear you talk. I’ve always wanted to meet someone like you to talk to about spirtual matters! I have never found anyone though. I guess the internet will do for now…I even talk with a lot of missionaries and pastors and it’s hard to get into the nitty gritty stuff. I think I like to listen to ex-atheists talk about their faith. It appeases my intellectual contemplations.
About your personal situation about not finding a church you belong to. Maybe that would take forever? haha. It’s best to find a church where you can make a difference. Maybe find an open church that will hear you, so that you can help the church grow. You know? Right now I am in the midst of a church in it’s very early stages in Kyoto, Japan. They don’t even have their own church yet. I am very young but I chat with the pastors and missionaries about what I think when it comes to the church. Church is now more for me not a place where I feel I belong (because I’m not sure a church has made me feel that way-only God does that), but it’s become a place where I can help people feel they belong. Generally I have found church people to be impersonal in a funny way; I think God has made it my duty to know the people of the church. You’re good with words, perhaps, you’d be good at doing that as well in whatever church you end up in. You can make people feel they belong.