I want all of my life to be like these moments:

I hope the FBI is keeping an eye on the fellow who writes the web site to which I’ve linked above, because he makes the Unabomber sound quite sensible. I also [...]]]> Although God had clearly outlined His plans to kill 500,000 people in southwestern California yesterday, He must have changed His mind at the last minute.

I hope the FBI is keeping an eye on the fellow who writes the web site to which I’ve linked above, because he makes the Unabomber sound quite sensible. I also hope the FBI is keeping an eye on God, just in case the other guy is right about all the terrorist threats in the Bible.

Today I had lunch with an old friend—an intelligent woman in her late thirties, the executive director of a thriving arts organization. We met at a vegan [...]]]> How open should an open mind be? What are the limits of tolerance and understanding, and what happens to those limits as our knowledge of the natural world grows?

Today I had lunch with an old friend—an intelligent woman in her late thirties, the executive director of a thriving arts organization. We met at a vegan Indian buffet. Since our last meeting had been at a vegetarian restaurant she’d picked, I asked her a few questions about her vegetarianism. She said she hadn’t eaten any meat or fish for 12 years. I admired her commitment. I told her that although I’m attracted to the environmental, social, and health benefits of vegetarianism, I enjoy eating a moderate amount of meat too much to make the complete change in eating habits.

Later, I asked what I thought was an innocent question: Is there anywhere in Houston where one can learn to practice meditation in an environment free of religious influences? I’ve been interested in exploring meditation for its supposed health benefits—lower blood pressure and stress-related hormones—and in hopes of gaining some relaxation, focus, and clarity of thought. I want to learn a few meditation practices from experts—people who’ve practiced and experimented and studied the methods and techniques they teach. But as an atheist with a scientific/naturalistic approach to knowledge and understanding, I’m not particularly interested in any particular mythology or theology or scriptural tradition in support of meditation.

To my surprise, without even asking me to give any further explanation for my question, my friend went on the attack. She accused me of closing my mind to the possibilities of what the religious meditative traditions have to teach me.

I said, “I don’t want to spend a lot of time studying ancient sacred texts.”

She answered, “How can any time spent learning be wasted time?”

I tried to say something to the effect that there are a million other things to learn that are more interesting to me than the mythologies of gods and goddesses and revered and sainted teachers. She sputtered something about the duality she sensed in me, and some other things I couldn’t quite make sense of.

She went on to suggest that my irreligiosity was the product, somehow, of my Catholic upbringing. She didn’t explain how Catholicism led to my secular humanist worldview, and I didn’t get a chance to ask. I was too busy trying to defend myself against the suggestion that wanting to learn a little something about meditation without having to endure religious teaching or preaching somehow signifies that I’ve closed my mind.

With astonishingly few words, she communicated that I was an unenlightened soul, the product of a twisted religious formation that I’d obvious failed to transcend, some kind of pragmatist asshole who couldn’t think of any learning except in terms of the specific benefit I might gain from it. I didn’t defend myself very effectively. But I think that my friend eventually sensed that she’d hurt my feelings, or insulted my intellect, or trampled on my worldview. (She’d managed to do all three.) As she paid for my lunch—it was her turn—she offered to ask around and see what suggestions she might be able to give me about the meditation question.

I drove home from lunch feeling browbeaten, trivialized, and ashamed of what an incompetent defender of my worldview I am. I tried to think of better ways I might have explained my request.

“Say, for example, we agree that the Roman Catholic Church offers some valid and useful moral teachings. But you’re a non-Catholic. Do you go to Mass every Sunday to try to find the two minutes of valid moral teachings mixed in with 48 minutes of rituals, incantations, readings from ancient scripture, and bake-sale announcements? Or do you find some experts who’ve distilled the best of Catholic moral teaching, and learn from them?”

Maybe she wouldn’t agree on the basic premise of that line of reasoning. Let’s try something else: “Imagine I go to a Zen center where they teach Zen Buddhist meditation. Suppose 50 percent of the lesson is practical instruction in meditation techniques, and 50 percent is teaching about the history of Buddhist spirituality, or the life of the Buddha, or other religious content associated with Zen Buddhism. Is it unreasonable for me not to want to waste half my time learning information that has no relevance to my worldview?”

Is my worldview inherently closed-minded? If I limit myself to knowledge of the world that can be understood and tested and verified by the scientific method, does that make me some kind of bigot?

I got to thinking about a podcast I listened to yesterday. The show was Point of Inquiry, the radio show and podcast of the Center for Inquiry, a secular-humanist think tank. The show explores issues related to pseudoscience, the paranormal, alternative medicine, atheism, secular humanism, nonbelief, and so forth. In this particular show, host D. J. Grothe was interviewing Dr. Joe Nickell, a research fellow of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry (formerly the Center for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal). I love the committee’s work, which is reported in Skeptical Inquirer magazine. They investigate ghosts, UFO sightings, crop circles, Madonnas sighted in pieces of toast, and all sorts of other extraordinary claims.

Dr. Nickell was talking about his work, and about the notion of skeptical inquiry. He said that the most important thing is to keep an open mind. He said that we must be willing to do the work of skeptical inquiry, to look into the reality of any claim of the paranormal or supernatural, to study it with the tools of science, and to reach conclusions based upon the evidence we find. He criticized those who have already made up their mind: “There’s no such thing as ghosts. There’s no such thing as Bigfoot. There are no alien visitors.” He said that it’s important to test each claim individually.

I felt a [1000 words] little betrayed by his criticism of us unflinchingly skeptical folks. There I stood, accused of close-mindedness by someone whom I’d thought of as a staunch ally in the war against unreason! And then I ruminated on his argument some more, and I thought about what I take for granted. I take for granted that people who are doing work like his—applying science and reason to extraordinary claims—have my interests (and those of humanity as a whole) in mind. I assume—in recognition of his education, his stature in the field of paranormal investigation, the reputation of CSICOP and the Center for Inquiry—that I can trust him to do the investigating for me. My confidence in the scientific method as a way to obtain knowledge and my faith in people who have demonstrated over and over again that they are committed to the scientific worldview make it unnecessary for me to test every claim myself. If Joe Nickell has visited the house and determined that there’s no evidence that it’s haunted, I have “faith” that the house isn’t haunted.

And I can further extrapolate, from the enormous and convincing body of scientific knowledge on the subject, that no other houses are haunted either.

© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick

Next creation? If you’ll pardon my French, you have got to be out of your blessed MIND! Have you completely forgotten how we reached the impasse at which we now find ourselves?

Let Me refresh your memory. The last time you decided to try your hand at creation, I attempted to outline for you a [...]]]> Dear sir:

Next creation? If you’ll pardon my French, you have got to be out of your blessed MIND! Have you completely forgotten how we reached the impasse at which we now find ourselves?

Let Me refresh your memory. The last time you decided to try your hand at creation, I attempted to outline for you a number of suggestions in the form of a PowerPoint presentation that you chose to completely disregard. I believe that My ideas were very reasonable, and as you will probably recall My saying (since you are omniscient and whatnot), I don’t believe that you gave them a fair hearing.

If you had listened to Me, your creation experiment could have proceeded smoothly. My plan would have imposed a sensible order on things—yourself, naturally, in the critically important chief-executive role, with a capable staff of archangels, angels, principalities, and so on and so forth. (If you wish to reacquaint yourself with My design, I can make a copy of My notes from our meeting available.) I would have been both pleased and proud to avail you of My not inconsiderable administrative talents. I had in mind the title of Vice President of Creative Operations, but I was certainly prepared to be responsive to your feedback.

And so I was most distressed at your dismissive reaction to My input, especially in consideration of the expense and effort I put into having My concept thoroughly market-researched and vetted through our Legal Department.

At any rate, My system was, I believe, a strong one from the standpoint of efficiency and maximizing resources, both in materiel and personnel. We could have managed a broad and comprehensive spectrum of worlds, possibilities, beings, and potentialities from which you might have been able to expect any number of positive outcomes—not least of which would have been huge profit margins. So I was dumbfounded (to say the least) when you moved forward unilaterally and unadvisedly on the present project.

As many impartial observers on My staff can attest, I noted some disturbing trends that began as soon as you separated the heavens from the Earth, thereby immediately eliminating many of the cost-saving characteristics inherent in My plan. But then to introduce a wild card in the form of these mortal creatures of yours! Even now, 6,000-some-odd years later, I am astounded that you could have made such an amateurish error. Little less than the angels? Good Lord! (If you’ll pardon the expression.) If you’d given this decision a moment’s careful thought, you would have foreseen the disastrous effect that your organizational scheme would have on the vertical nature of the hierarchy. I’m sure you understand why I chose to absent Myself from the organization rather than face the inevitable deluge of negative publicity, declining stock values, et cetera, et cetera.

But why continue to dwell on your past mistakes? Let us look to the future.

And on that note, let Me get right to the issue that prompted Me to contact you after all these years. I have been hearing whispers from fairly reliable sources about a Mark II Creation Project. If there is any truth to these rumors, I am somewhat dismayed that I have not yet been asked for My input. Still, I would be glad to forget this glaring oversight in the spirit of opening a rapprochement in our longstanding disagreement. And in light of everything that has failed to meet expectations on your first attempt, may I say that I would think you’d welcome the opportunity for a qualified, independent consultant to review your work plan?

Thank you for your attention to this matter. I look forward to your prompt response.

This is a companion piece—a rebuttal, of sorts—to Exercise #2.

© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick

I had seen my mother turn away Jehovah’s Witnesses, Girl Scouts, and Fuller Brush men with a curt “No thank you,” [...]]]> “I would like to tell you about the Redeeming Knowledge,” began the man on the doorstep without so much as a word of introduction. “Maybe I come in and share with you for a moment?”

I had seen my mother turn away Jehovah’s Witnesses, Girl Scouts, and Fuller Brush men with a curt “No thank you,” so I was astonished when she stepped back from the open door to make way for the man. “Won’t you come in?” she asked.

The man wiped the soles of his patent-leather shoes on the doormat, picked up his satchel, and stepped over the threshold. He set the satchel back down on the floor of the front hall as my mother closed the door. He smoothed the lapels of his blue seersucker suit and fastened a couple of jacket buttons. He used a handkerchief to blot his forehead and disheveled sideburns, then stuffed it carelessly into his breast pocket.

“I don’t want to take up a lot of your time. My name is Henry Emerson Wallace, and I’ve come to Somerville to bring the good news of the Redeeming Knowledge. I represent the Redeeming Knowledge Society. Are you familiar with our work?”

My mother shook her head and looked as if she was about to say something, but the stranger went on.

“We’ve pitched our revival tent on the east edge of town. Are you familiar with the Langston farm? Yes? Well then, I would like to leave a copy of this pamphlet with you, and let me invite you personally to come out to the Langston farm at seven-thirty tonight to hear our message of truth and redemption.”

My mother studied the brochure for a couple of seconds. She laid it on the table in the hall, next to the pot of plastic flowers.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea?” I had never seen this hospitable side of Mother.

“Oh, I thank you kindly, but I have more houses to call on. We hope to see a good turnout tonight. The people of Somerville are hungry for the truth.” He picked up the satchel and opened the door. Mother followed him onto the front porch then pulled the door most of the way shut behind her.

I couldn’t make out any words in their muffled conversation, so I turned my attention to the pamphlet. “Religion Is a Fraud,” read the big bold headline at the top of the front panel. Then in smaller type beneath an out-of-date portrait of the man on our front porch, “The Reverend Henry Emerson Wallace will explain the Essential Truth of the Scientific Method and will save your mortal soul from Superstition and Supernaturalism.”

This was a revival I had to see.

© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick