Somehow, despite not understanding why exactly we exist, what our purpose is, and that at any given moment we could die and cease to exist, we don't go insane. Do you have any idea how crazy that is?
If you have ever run into a Christian who just assumed you were lying when you told them that you were an atheist, this is why they thought that. You don't seem insane, so they are left with the assumption that you must be a liar. When in truth, you just choose to think about something else instead: politics, your job, some video game, whatever.
> When in truth, you just choose to think about something else instead: politics, your job, some video game, whatever.
But that is just not true for a lot of us: A lot of atheists spend a disproportionate amount of time considering these types of questions.
Though for many the answers to the above is: Why should there be a purpose? I'd rather choose one for myself. Why does matter if we can die and cease to exist at any moment? If there is no after life, we'd never know. Do you fear going to bed at night, worrying you might not wake up in the morning? Why would we worry about that - if we don't wake up, so what?
Incidentally I've never met a christian who assumed I was lying when I told them I was an atheist. A lot of them have wondered how I could be, and had questions about it, and I'm sure some thought I was crazy (the feeling is mutual), but none have ever implied I wasn't telling the truth.
To paraphrase Nietzsche, "A man can withstand any how, if he has a sufficient why." People have a hard-wired need for purpose in their life. And people want to think about and consider questions that are beyond the ability of science to answer. Thinking about those questions can be a lot of fun, and that is what a lot of metaphysics and theology is.
> If you have ever run into a Christian who just assumed you were lying when you told them that you were an atheist, this is why they thought that.
By the way, Dennett talked about the reverse: how the Church itself lies: more specifically, priests won't try and correct the beliefs of their parishioners (like, such and such depiction of a miracle was actually just a symbol), lest they destroy their faith altogether.
The traditional view is that the miracles weren't just symbolic, but actual historic events (that had intentional symbolic meaning), and most priests would subscribe to the traditional view; so they aren't lying, just being consistent with their views.
What you are referencing is the "Liberal Christianity" of the 1800's, but it is generally an unpopular set of views. Wikipedia's page is a bit short but a useful overview of the differences:
> What you are referencing is the "Liberal Christianity" of the 1800's, but it is generally an unpopular set of views.
Unpopular in the US population, definitely. Unpopular among US priests, I wouldn't know, but I believe you. Unpopular among European priests… I would be much less confident.
I rarely talk to priests, in the US or outside (I'm Lutheran, not Catholic), so I wouldn't know. I always got the impression that most Catholics took the Gospel account pretty literally though.
Brutal honesty is not less brutal because it is honest, though. Different people prefer different amounts of brutality and honesty. In my experience, I've found that the honesty stops mattering after a while: all that I see is brutality.
When someone wouldn't change one's mind, being brutal about the truth rarely helps. But one can be gentle about it. Sometimes however, contradicting one's belief is perceived as a brutal attack no matter what. When I perceive this, I tend to give up.
The most brutal thing of all however is changing your mind. It tend to come with a terrible sense of loss, even though that grief is rarely warranted. Plus, many religious people strongly believe that religious belief is good, even when they're less sure about their accuracy. Tell them something convincing about God not existing, and they could panic. Most of the time, they will cling to their beliefs by sheer force of will.
Personally, I avoid that problem by noticing that I'm not entitled to my opinion. I'm not free to believe whatever I want. I just hope I'm strong enough to let evidence change my mind whenever it should.
I had the good fortune of once being the first atheist that one women had EVER spoken to (or at least who had admitted that to her face). The conversation started with a lot of back-and-forth that was very enlightening. By the end, things weren't so amicable, but the interim was fantastic.
I don't wish/intend to open up a can of worms, but feel it is worth relating the major point of departure in the conversation: We differed on the importance of what I guess you might call "purity of intent". That your inner thoughts/motivations for an action matter as much or more than the tangible effects of that action, even if those effects are completely indistinguishable, into perpetuity.
If you have ever run into a Christian who just assumed you were lying when you told them that you were an atheist, this is why they thought that. You don't seem insane, so they are left with the assumption that you must be a liar. When in truth, you just choose to think about something else instead: politics, your job, some video game, whatever.