'Relax, It's Just God' Featured in Psychology Today

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Well, they got it mostly right. And, dammit, maybe that's enough.

The current issue of Psychology Today contains a really great piece about atheism and agnosticism and what it terms "a new breed of nonbelievers." Apparently I belong to this new breed because I'm featured in the article, along with a handful of others — including my all-time favorite advice-giving atheist, Richard Wade.

I spoke with Psychology Today writer Bruce Grierson months ago about Relax, It's Just God and what drew me to the project. And I have to say, overall, Grierson did a bang-up job. In a lengthy, well-written piece, he points out that nonbelievers are everywhere — yes, even in church pews.

"That a in atheism simply means without, not against, belief in God," Grierson writes. "Not an adversarial position, just a position. There, in that vast middle of the religious spectrum, a space not occupied by fundamentalists of any sort, live tens of millions of atheists and agnostics, more or less quietly, mostly with their families. And their numbers are growing."

Grierson explains that many atheists embrace their religious roots and customs, especially when they have religious family members, and he devotes quite a lot of space to how secular parents deal with this tricky business of religious faith when it comes to their children. (That's where I came in.)

In addition to relating the story about how my book was born, Grierson does a skillful job summarizing what it is I'm all about. "The question," he quotes me as saying, "is how do we approach religion with our kids so that we're being honest but not indoctrinating them or scaring them, or putting them in a position to be made fun of or teased or hurt? These are fine lines. And because so many of us are first-generation secular, we can't fall back on what we ourselves learned before."

Wait. Did I just quote myself being quoted? That was weird.

Anyway, Grierson also references my Ten Commandments for Talking to Kids About Religion, focusing specifically on Commandments #3: Don't saddle kids with anxiety over the word 'God' and #8: Don't steal your child's ability to choose (although I happen to know that Grierson's personal favorite is #7: Don't be a dick. Mine, too, incidentally.)

Unfortunately, though, in the world of journalism, there are just so many opportunities to get things a little screwy. And Grierson (God love him) turned out to be fallible. In a paragraph about my own upbringing, for example, Grierson states that I was "raised Presbyterian and Methodist." Although I did attend Presbyterian and Methodist churches at certain points during my childhood, I was baptized Unitarian and wasn't raised in any particular faith. In the same paragraph, he describes my parents' approach to religion as don't-ask-don't-tell, which isn't true, either. What I said — and have written about previously — is that I personally instituted a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy on religion while I was in college, and later abandoned it. But that was never my parent's approach to religion; it was my own.

That being said, the story — which is on newsstands through June — is just great, and I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity.

Oh, and there's a picture, too, which is super-stagey. But at least it features our super-cool Bigfoot painting in the background. (Relax, out there, it's just Bigfoot.)

 

10 Commandments for Talking to Kids About Religion

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I've said it before and I'll say it again: When you're not religious, talking about religion with kids can be a serious challenge. The words don't come naturally. Little things can freak you out. And, about the time your kids learn to ask questions, you begin to notice how much of our society is informed by religious faith, and how many people around us believe things we don't. Panic has a way of setting in.

Hopefully, you aren't like me. Hopefully you're less anxiety-prone, more level-headed. Good for you. But, for the rest of you: It’s going to be fine. Stay focused. As the Brits say, "Keep Calm and Carry On." Kids will remember your attitude more than your words. Act like talking about religion is no big deal, and very soon talking about religion will be no big deal.

Here are my 10 Commandments:

1. Expose your kids to many religions

Have you ever noticed how religion can get in the way of a religious education? Either children are schooled in one particular belief system, or they’re not being taught a damn thing. But a good religious education is one that covers the basics of many religions from a cultural and historical perspective, without a whole lot of emotional investment. What is religion? Why did it come about? And why is it so important to people? Pick up some books and educate yourself about various religions; tell your kids what you're learning. Put major religious holidays (such as Rosh Hashanah, Diwali and Eid al-Ahda) on your calendar, and use them as opportunities to talk about history and tradition. Point out signs and symbols, religious clothing. Seize opportunities to visit places of worship. Religious literacy is a gift; give it.

2. Embrace the 'graven image' of science

A "graven image" is described as anything worshipped in place of God — whether it be other gods or demons, power, pleasure or money. Because science is something that can be valued in place of God, it’s possible to consider science a graven image. So be it.  For every religious book you read, tell you kids one cool thing about the real world. Evolution, the stars and planets, you name it. Atheist scientist Richard Dawkins' book, "The Magic of Reality: How We Know What’s Really True," is a great new resource. But, remember, you need not set up religion and science as opposing forces — the way religious people often do. Present the facts. Your kids likely will figure the rest out on their own, and it will mean more when they do.

3. Don't saddle your kids with your anxiety over the word 'God'

The Pledge of Allegiance. The Girl Scout Promise. The motto written on American money. There is religion all around us, even in school. But it need not be a crisis. Let your kid know that God is a part of our culture's language, its songs, its poetry, its monuments and its works of art. God is a part of human history, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Not everything needs to be loaded with meaning. Kids may pledge their allegiance “under God” not because of religion but because of tradition, the same way they may sing Christmas songs or say “Bless you” when someone sneezes. If your kids prefer to a draw battle lines for themselves on these matters, great! Just be sure you’re not nudging them toward the battle.

4. Keep in mind: There's nothing wrong with believing in a higher power

Faith in a higher power is only as good or bad as the people who possess it. Most of the people your kids will meet during their lifetimes will have something wonderful to offer the world; that “something” may be accomplished despite belief in a higher power, or it may be accomplished because of it. "Religion" has become a loaded word — referring more to dogma than the simple underlying belief in God — and that's unfortunate, in a way. Because religion is like a fingerprint; everyone's is slightly different. Consider the chances, for instance, that any two people envision heaven in exactly the same way?  Or interpret all the major Biblical passages in the same way? Or inject religion into their politics and social mores in the same way?  Not bloody likely. In the end, then, to say someone is "Christian" or "Jewish" or "Muslim" means very little. Knowing someone's religion is a far cry from knowing her beliefs; knowing her label is a far cry from knowing her heart. So when you speak of "religion" around children, try to be as neutral as possible. And if you do choose to speak of religion in negative terms, be sure to explain exactly what you oppose, and why. Rarely do people oppose faith itself, but rather the actions that can arise out of faith. It's important that kids understand the difference.

5. Honor your mother's faith

Just because you're a nonreligious parent doesn't mean you have to shield your child from religious family members. If you give your child a context in which to hear about Grandma’s religion — or Cousin Suzie's, or Neighbor Bob's — you won't mind so much when those conversations arise. It may benefit Grandma to be able to talk with your child about her faith, and it may benefit your child to hear about faith from someone he knows and loves. And, as long as you've set the scene up front in a gentle, nonjudgemental way, there should be very little worry. For example, you might say: "Some people believe that a magic power, often called God, created the universe and is watching over us. And many people say that if you believe in God, you will go to live with God in a place called heaven after you die. That's why it's so important to Grandma that you believe what she does." (This is a great tip for parents in mixed-religion marriages, as well.) One caveat: If there’s a risk a family member will say something harmful or hateful to your child, the faith-sharing privilege is off the table. Luckily, I think most religious folks are capable of having conversations with children without invoking images of hell or condemning anal sex.

6. Don't kill your kid's good time

One of the many problems with ardently opposing religion is that it's so damn boring. If you’re preoccupied, for example, with explaining to your kids that Adam and Eve weren’t the first humans and that those who believe such things are irrational, you’re probably not telling the Adam-and-Eve story very well. And that’s a shame. Because it's a really great story! A child’s age, certainly, will dictate the tenor of your conversations about God, and which stories are appropriate to share. But don’t forget to have some fun. Go to the library and dig up as many interesting-looking books as you can. The more pictures, the better. And don't just offer flat readings of the stories; inject the stories about Jesus with all the drama and excitement with which they were probably intended. The same goes for tales of Abraham and Shiva and Mohammed and Zeus and all the other religious figures, both past and present. The more fun the stories are, the more your kids will want to hear them, and the more likely they'll be to remember them. And that's good. What kids don't know can hurt them — and that's especially true when it comes to religion.

7. Don't be a dick

Putting the word "dick" into the adultery commandment is probably not the most PC thing ever — which is ironic because this commandment sort of embraces political correctness. Here's the thing: When it comes to religion, most humans believe their way is the best way, the right way. And for non-theists, who have science on their side, their conviction may be all the stronger. But conviction need not translate into being snarky, arrogant or mean. There is nothing at all wrong with criticizing people for saying hateful things or doing harmful things. But let's cut the vitriol. You may discuss, oppose, even argue. But try to do it without name-calling, generalizing, or degradation — even when you see theists name-calling, generalizing and degrading nonbelievers. Yes, it’s possible to fight fire with fire. But, in the end, it’s all just fire.

8. Don't steal your child's ability to choose

If you're going to teach children that it's okay for people to hold religious beliefs, you must be willing to let your children hold religious beliefs as well. Otherwise, the words sound hollow — and they are. There's no shame in wanting your kids to believe the way you do. So guide them. Teach them the value of science. Explain the difference between fact and faith, between dogma and freethinking. Teach them morals and ethics. Tell them everything you know about religion. And then let them take it from there. Let them know they are free to choose what they want to believe, and encourage them to change their minds as often as they like. If they want to experiment with religion, support them. They'll probably come around to your way of thinking eventually anyway. And if they don't, it doesn't matter. What does matter to you is that they grow up to be good and happy adults. Or is it?

9. Don't lie about your own beliefs

Everyone has the right to to their own thoughts and beliefs, and that includes you. Don’t hide them! Not only would you be sending a message that religion is an uncomfortable/scary/intimidating subject, but you’d be making it clear that it’s okay to be ashamed of your beliefs. You can put off the conversation for a while, but eventually your kid will ask. Admit when you are confused or don't have all the answers. Tell them that the existence of God, in any shape or form, is something no one can prove or disprove, which is what makes it so easy to debate. Let kids know that yours is a household that talks openly and respectfully about tough subjects — including religion.

10. Respect the religious without tolerating intolerance 

Teaching your kids to respect religious people is important. But that doesn't mean they must respect religious intolerance. It doesn't mean they must respect immoral, unethical or hateful words and actions simply because they come under the heading of religious righteousness. Will kids say mean things on the playground? Yes. Do all those mean things need to be treated seriously? No. Fights will break out; feelings will be hurt. It's a part of growing up. But hurting or terrorizing another child — or anyone — in the name of religion is no different than terrorizing a child for any other reason. Bullying is bullying, and should be treated as such. The bottom line: Don't hold religious beliefs against people who are being nice. And don't hold it in favor of people who are being mean.

Relax, It's Just a Blog

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When I entered journalism school 20 years ago, the Internet was still the new kid on the block. Getting around “online” was confusing at best. I still remember looking at Lexus/Nexus on a classroom computer and entering the name “Steven Speilberg.” In an instant, all of Speilberg’s films popped up on the screen, along with a whole bunch of other information I was sure the public ought not  be seeing — like his home address and phone number. “Holy Shit!” I thought. “I can’t believe this exists.”

But though the Internet loomed large on campus as the future of information gathering, it was making only a small dent in my own education. All my professors were crusty, loveable old men who had spent their careers with rotary-dial telephones pinned to their ears. In their day, history was recorded in archive rooms, where newspaper clippings were meticulously labeled and retrieved by hand. Theirs was the Woodward-and-Bernstein era of journalism. Pull the clip; make the call; hit the pavement: those were your options. The Internet just didn’t figure into things.

Over the next 10 years, that all changed. We got computers, e-mail addresses. We began exploring the Web, finding out what it could do and where it could take us. The Holy Shit factor subsided. Today, like everybody else, I get irritated when I can’t find some piece of information on my first Google search. I get impatient when a video takes more than a second to load. I read books on my iPad. I use Twitter.

But while I’ve evolved in how I want to retrieve my information, I’ve had a hard time evolving when it comes to how I want to dispense it. I still struggle with the idea of blogging. I have that old-school instinct to hold back information from readers, show it to editors, revise and revise and revise before finally — FINALLY — sending it to the printing press. The idea of putting stuff out there instantly and then finding out I over-simplified it, or made an assumption, or got something flat-out wrong because a crusty old editor wasn't there to put me straight — well, it's enough to upset my nervous system something fierce.

And yet, despite all that, here I am. And there you are.

I do hope  I'm able to keep up. I hope that I can synthesize my thoughts briefly, quickly, and accurately — and make do without the oversight to which I've become so comfortably accustomed. It will be a challenge, but maybe you will turn out to be a forgiving sort.

Maybe I will, too.