Beliefs

How do atheists view the concept of being born again?

This post is a response to a question initially posed on Quora, and can also be accessed via “https://divineatheists.quora.com/How-do-atheists-view-the-concept-of-being-born-again-60“

I remember someone I once trusted approaching me for relationship advice.

I don’t remember the specific complaints registered against him by his then-recent ex, but I remember how he tried to convince her that he had changed overnight.

The next day after she ended her relationship, he returned to her and claimed he had changed.

After relating that to me, I tried to explain to him that’s not how change works. One doesn’t change oneself like they change their clothes, most certainly not overnight.

That wasn’t my best approach to helping him overcome his anxiety. He outright rejected what I tried to get him to understand. I believe that was the last conversation he and I ever had.

However, His attitude toward change stuck with me as I struggled to understand that thinking. I thought of it as chillingly superficial and worse as it appears to be an attitude which fits within the mindset that justifies telling people what they want to hear.

Everything about how a certain mindset perceives the world around them is based entirely on optics, and their behaviours are mere performances designed to elicit desired responses from their audience.

It left me feeling cold, and I’ve learned to understand how severe a red flag that is. I wish I hadn’t been such a slow learner in this regard because I could have saved myself a world of hurt if I had fully considered the implications of that behaviour then.

At any rate, the notion of undergoing a transformative experience had always intrigued me as I deliberately sought paths and methodologies for transcending limiting ways of being. From a very young age, I was aware that I was conditioned into being what I conceptually rejected but required something tangible to transform my desire for change into actual change.

Symbolically, the notion of being “reborn” is a ritualized performance in which people present themselves as if they had changed from committing to a belief system and being “remade” by that commitment itself.

People who have undergone such a ritual sincerely think they have transformed into a better version of themselves. Their exclamations, however, have more often been expressions of hopeful anticipation rather than observable reality.

Their subsequent behaviours and fundamental attitudes remain the same. From an outsider’s perspective, the only change visible was the compass setting they prioritized.

Although some stick with their new compass setting over the long haul, many returned to being who they always were while dismissing a temporary compass setting as one they outgrew and was no longer relevant to them.

Some remained within their faith but regarded it with their “old eyes” and treated their entire relationship with their beliefs and community as a game of optics. Others moved on as they acknowledged their experience as helpful but not enough to commit to it for a lifetime. I found this latter group more authentic in their journey of discovery. The clarity of direction or need they expressed as they described their choices through fogs of confusion they struggled to dispel always made them feel more human to me. In contrast, I found those who appeared to skim through emotional turmoil somewhat confusing. I didn’t know how to interpret their responses to emotional struggles. I must have envied them as I could never respond to my own in similar ways and often wished I could have. It seemed to make life easier for them.

These “performers at life” always made me feel cold, though, and it’s taken me a long time to understand why.

Understanding how a proportion of our population lives through a shallow lens may be conceptually easy to grasp superficially, but that’s not a satisfying apprehension of the phenomenon. One inevitably finds oneself mystified by its manifestations while wondering why they feel put off in ways they don’t quite understand. It can be a harrowing journey to fully grasp the implications of such a life on a visceral level for those whose feelings run deep.

Another example was an individual who had been married for about six years and who I had gotten to know as a close couple who seemingly shared everything. Conversations with either always involved extolling the virtues of the other and never was an unkind or critical word shared. I thought they were a remarkable example of a successful couple until the husband informed me they were getting divorced.

Their separation appeared as if life sped forward at super-speed for them because it all took place within a couple of weeks — from agreement to the formalized documentation of divorce. There was no emotional turmoil I could detect in the husband, as the ex-wife had already left, and I had no means of gauging her condition. In his case, however, I was more shocked at his ability to move on than I was at their separation.

For him, it was as if nothing of note had happened in his life. I couldn’t fathom that, particularly after having endured my periods of extended angst over far shorter and more superficial commitments. I remember envying his ability to rebound from what would have been at least a year or two of turmoil for me.

I didn’t realize until later that his personality was characterized by subtle paranoia and mistrust toward others on mostly innocuous levels. I first noticed that aspect of his character after he described a business venture I found myself intrigued by and expressed how much I liked it. His response became immediately cold and protective of it. He clarified that I had no place in his venture even though I had not expressed such desire or intent.

I remember switching the conversation at that point and inquiring about his ex-wife, and I was curious to know if she was doing well. His response was mainly dismissive, but he let the cat out of the bag by indicating that the reason for their divorce was his unfaithfulness.

The ability to move on quickly from a profoundly emotional experience had often been a source of admiration for me. That was before I understood the costs of such a state of being — to both themselves and those they inevitably victimize.

I don’t think he was ever capable of connecting deeply with anyone, and I didn’t understand, even then, how profound that was. I knew it was essential for me, and I accepted how that might not be for others. I didn’t think of it as a toxic dysfunctionality — even though I should have known better after having experienced it with many others so often throughout my life.

From a ritualistic perspective, there can be some benefit to undergoing a formalized process that symbolically represents change and, more importantly, a desire for change. However, it’s all done for optics more than acknowledging the necessity of change and its role in one’s personal growth.

I always have felt this way, but I never understood how that attitude itself, on my behalf, was present even as a child when I underwent my first confession. It wasn’t conducted in a booth but in an empty classroom on a chair across from the minister. We were in full view of each other without obstruction, and he asked me to speak.

I struggled to find words while suppressing a broad smile as I found the experience entirely superficial. After all, how could I possibly be exonerated of guilt over actions I may have taken that were considered sinful by simply uttering them to this stranger? At the age of eleven, the most egregious sin I could think of was masturbation, and I suppose that might have been why I struggled to suppress a broad smile.

Within a belief system that purports to provide adherents with pathways for growth, I can understand and support the prescriptive manner of formalizing rituals to celebrate that growth. The shortfall in converting subjective experience into an objectively procedural system is that it fails to account for individual differences. It is a process that cannot account for or mitigate abusive misuse.

Much like the reporting systems across all social media, the symbolic ritual of change is a tool that can be weaponized for personal gain. The emphasis on optics is a form of corrupt thinking which overlooks the critically ineffable in favour of supporting shallow expedience.

The concept of “being born again” is just a formalized process of stripping profundity from life in favour of optics because we do not, as a whole, value depth in a world that has industrialized human existence and reduced the human condition to the level of a disposable commodity.

We have evolved into an increasingly dehumanized existence while being led by institutions that claim to represent higher states of being. Our only hope for reclaiming our existence as human beings capable of achieving our potential is completing our transformation into a fully automated society. It will only be once we cross this threshold that human beings will be free of the superficial trappings of optics made necessary by the industrialized herding of our species. The function of symbolic optics is an inherent limit to our potential as individual beings within what we refer to as “civilized society.”

I believe the concept of “being born again” should be viewed with great suspicion and mistrust because it reflects nothing of an individual’s inner world or the foundation of their character.

It can, however, be a practical means of applying a metric for identifying differences between that standard and one’s words and deeds to triangulate a more accurate picture of one’s internal world.

Why do federal government employees keep their lack of belief to themselves?

Another way to word this question would be, “Why do people not share the nothing they have to share?”

How does that work out for you?

It sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it?

It probably makes no sense to you that it’s your question in different words. That would be because you don’t understand how atheism is literally nothing.

Atheism is the disbelief of the claim that “God exists” or “God is real.”

This atheist is perfectly happy if you’re happy believing whatever it is that you believe — anything which helps you live your life peacefully and productively is positive.

There is no need to hear how or why that belief works for you because it’s your belief, and no one would truly understand how or why that belief works for you. Even other believers who hold beliefs similar to yours would have their reasons and find unique benefits to their beliefs that will differ on some levels, even if they appear the same on others.

Humans are all unique, no matter how alike they may be. That’s the function of individual perception and cognitive features of life, such as an ego.

Good for you. You’re happy.

That’s all this atheist cares about.

The details you may want to share are generally too alien for me to appreciate, so your efforts merely contribute to a divide between us rather than building a bridge.

The reason for that is when people share their beliefs, they’re also sharing their insecurities with those beliefs, and sharing is a way of harvesting validation.

By sharing your beliefs, you are merely showing this atheist that you don’t really believe what you claimed to believe while demonstrating an expectation of me adopting a paternalistic response, patting you on the head, and telling you what a good person you are.

I would have already assumed that about you before you began speaking. This atheist prefers to think of people as good by default until they prove otherwise.

Starting with a cynical form of misanthropy is just an unhealthy way to live.

At any rate, if you were to ask me what I believe, I would have to choose from among a gazillion slides running through my mind to pick one and talk about that one microscopic portion of what comprises things I believe and why I believe what I believe. I would have to do that because most such questions don’t seek in-depth insight but a soundbite answer like, “Yep. It sure is a nice day today.”

That’s not a discussion about beliefs. That’s just chit-chat — small talk.

Serious discussions about beliefs should last hours at minimum, or they’re not serious discussions about beliefs. They’re idle chatter and empty noise to fill silent moments that often make many uncomfortable.

Silence can be far more golden when simply sharing space with someone without requiring temperature checks to ensure no overheating is occurring underneath one’s notice.

At any rate, disbelief in a god creature is nothing by contrast to something that comprises an affirmative belief in the existence of a god creature.

That’s what makes your question appear silly.

What is the point of telling people one lacks belief in a god creature, particularly when so many believers find that so offensive they spend all of their free time demonizing non-believers?

This atheist sees no value in telling people things in person that would add stress to their day.

I’m okay with openly expressing my views online because no one’s day is interrupted by my words. People choose to read them.

Topping matters off to make your question appear even more silly is that a government employee is responsible for serving all citizens, regardless of their faith or beliefs. If they were to share their personal beliefs openly, they would inevitably offend someone.

I am sure you are well aware of the bloody conflicts that have been occurring non-stop around the world for centuries between people of different belief systems. For a government employee to openly share their beliefs with the random people they serve would be doing a disservice in general to the public they are supposed to be serving as a representative of a nation with a secular umbrella welcoming all faiths.

This all boils down to the fact that no one is trying to keep anything away from anyone as a government employee. They are performing their duties as expected by not imposing their views on others.

Government employees who step outside their role as representatives of a government that welcomes and protects all beliefs are being derelict in their duties and should get fired for doing so.

Some even face legal battles for insisting their beliefs dictate how they are to perform their duties, and that is how it all should be for people who want to live free.

Do atheists believe in fate, good and evil, or alien life?

This post is a response to a question posed in its full format as follows: “Do atheists believe in fate, good and evil, or some other supernatural beliefs? Like do some atheist believe in alien life?”

This question embodies the problem with the notion of belief among believers.

Believers often need help understanding the difference between knowledge and belief. Blurring the distinction between two different but similar concepts makes it challenging for them to adopt a third option between their binary perspective on life.

To a believer, one either believes or does not believe.

Knowledge isn’t even a factor in their perceptions because knowing, to them, is just another form of belief. Belief supersedes knowing because one cannot know if their prayers are being heard by a “Father Cosmos,” so they must have faith that he is listening. This places an undue burden on the concept of belief that breaks its meaning in their minds.

They have no choice but to relegate knowledge to a subordinate relationship with belief because belief is everything to a believer.

Ironically, they have no problem with aspects of belief that require little to no consideration, such as “suspension of disbelief” because that occurs autonomically while engrossed in an entertaining fiction, as does “disbelief” when it applies to every belief system that isn’t theirs.

The notion of belief being subordinate to knowledge is like heresy, which induces a fear of straying, resulting in an eternal punishment for failing to adhere to their faith. This is why they often suffer crises of faith due to excessive cognitive dissonance.

The seemingly fearless attitude of atheists placing knowledge above belief attracts believers’ attention to notions of non-belief, like a moth to a flame. Since they fear eternal retribution for disbelief, they view atheists roaming around free to live their lives in terms not too dissimilar from how many people view a convicted felon roaming about freely to campaign for one of the most influential roles on the planet. It’s like witnessing a horrible accident. One would prefer to avert their gaze but cannot as they stand transfixed over the intense drama playing out for their unwilling minds to process.

The cognitive dissonance this generates explains the obsessions believers demonstrate over atheism every day on social media.

We see in this question how they fabricate presumptions about atheists that fit within their cognitive boxes of belief determination.

They cannot think beyond their belief paradigm to interpret reality beyond a binary state. One must either believe something or reject believing something. The meaning behind the concept of disbelief itself is lost on them. It’s like interpreting absence as a form of invisible presence.

To address the presumptions of belief in this question and many like it, one either presents a dismissive response like they would with a persistent child that fails to comprehend nuance but requires something of an answer to quell their curiosity or one burns through several boxes of crayons to bring them up to speed on basic concepts that will fly past their perceptions to leave them even more confused than before answering their questions.

This is the rub with knowledge.

Every question answered that contributes to our overall understanding of ourselves, others, and the universe we inhabit generates dozens of additional questions we never realized were questions before getting that answer we thought we wanted but sometimes regret getting.

To address the basic but flawed presumptions within the questions above, one must judiciously parse the information in ways that ignore large parts of what is implied within the question and attempt to focus on constructing a simplified answer they will understand, just like one does with a child.

For example, “Atheists don’t “believe in” alien life. Atheists know the universe is vast beyond belief, and the existence of life on this planet within a Brobdingnagian (I love this word) ocean of countless planets means the odds are beyond simply excellent that life has emerged elsewhere. We have been getting new evidence supporting that conclusion, such as the discovery of RNA embedded in spacefaring meteorites we’ve examined.”

All RNA and DNA Base Types Are Found in Meteorites, Study Claims

This answer won’t be interpreted as stated, though. It will be construed as “Atheists believe in alien life.”

The same applies to concepts like “good” and “evil”. We can explain and re-explain repeatedly until the proverbial cows come home that “good” and “evil” are subjective concepts requiring context for meaning. However, their interpretations of these concepts are apprehended as objectively as one would a physical cow within their field of vision.

“Supernatural beliefs” are also subjective constructs that we can explain “exist outside of nature” because that’s what “supernatural” literally means — “beyond nature.” To accept subjectively defined notions as true, one requires belief, and that’s why one interprets these concepts in terms equivalent to knowledge.

To “believe in fate” is to subordinate one’s knowledge derived from empirical experience through an objective lens to a subjective interpretation functioning like a soothing narrative rather than a concrete mystery to resolve. This dilution of one’s senses is essentially the core of the threat to human thinking that religion poses to humanity and that limits our potential as a species.