What’s Wrong With Happy Smiling Rainbows and Unicorns?
Last week, Mehta and I were both mentioned in The Washington Post’s Faith Divide, a blog managed by Eboo Patel, Executive Director of the Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC), an organization I work with as a former intern and current adjunct trainer / speaker. I was flattered to be mentioned, both by the organization I so greatly admire and enjoy collaborating with and to be mentioned in the same sentence as the prolific Mehta. But per a post that went up on his blog today, it seems Mehta, who spoke at IFYC’s 2007 conference, has mixed feelings about being cited as an example of a secular person who is working for greater collaboration across lines of difference:
I don’t want to just “let our differences slide” or “agree to disagree.”
I want to persuade religious people that they are mistaken when it comes to their mythology. Not through proselytization or trickery, but through rational, reasoned discussion.
We can work together and we can do wonderful things to help our communities and we ought to do that. But not in lieu of reasoned debate and a desire to point out the problems with the other person’s beliefs.
In this post, Mehta writes that “religion is not always a force for good,” going as far in his claim that IFYC wants to pretend it is as to call the interfaith movement “happy/smiling/rainbows-and-unicorns/all-inclusive.” It seems a funny point to raise since that is not even close to the idea that IFYC posits — in fact, the interfaith cooperation movement was born out of a recognition that religion is the source of many problems in our world. But I work with IFYC and the larger interfaith movement because I am not compelled to be complacent about that problem and see in interfaith cooperation a real, achievable solution.
This desire to address problems related to religion is something Mehta and I have in common, but our approaches are fundamentally different. As far as I can tell, Mehta believes that the best way to bring about the conclusion of conflicts rooted in religious identity is to completely deconstruct religious identities. On the other hand, I see this approach as a literal impossibility — per the majority of recent cultural studies, religion is not going away any time soon, and is in fact becoming an increasingly relevant force in the world marketplace. If this is true — and, well, it is — then we need a find a way to work toward bringing about the end of religious-based conflict.
I believe this is accomplished through the identification of shared values across lines of difference and the pursuit of common action that grows out of these values. I’ve seen this happen with my own eyes time and time again. People in the “New Atheist” camp identify blasphemy and the deconstruction of religious paradigms as the best way to achieve this. Ironically, I believe their approach has the opposite effect, creating only more conflict and pushing fundamentalists to entrench themselves even further into their religious totalitarianism. It’s also a poor way to build community; as I’ve written on this blog before, the majority of what I hear from secular friends is that they’ve had no interest in joining an Atheist group because the negativity they observed from these groups’ attempts to deconstruct religious ideas turned them off. They think it is alienating and innately limited, and I agree.
Mehta asks, “Is there room [in the interfaith movement] for people like me who think Islam, Mormonism, and Christianity are false? And who try to tackle sacred cows like reincarnation, Heaven, and karma?” My involvement in the organization serves a resounding “yes.” I think that religious ideas are false, and have deconstructed them in my own life. I enjoy discussing this with others and promoting the idea that we can be good without God. But when Mehta goes on to write that he “want[s] people to lose their faith just as much as the New Atheists do,” our beliefs diverge.
I am not persuaded by the popular Atheist mantra that we should serve as “de-conversion” missionaries and aim to bring about the end to “religious myths.” I don’t have a strong desire to see my religious peers abandon their faiths. Why should it bother me that my neighbor believes in God, as long as that belief isn’t infringing on my freedoms? And when it does, is the best approach to try to convince them to rid themselves of the belief altogether (an often impossible task), or is it more productive to allow them to get to know me and, through our relationship, cultivate in them a desire to not only allow for my differing belief but perhaps even celebrate it? This approach strikes me as the more rational and pragmatic, and also the more empathic. You need to establish a relationship before you can move into those more difficult conversations, or else most of the people you’re talking to won’t even bother to listen and you’ll be left monologuing. And monologuers have a difficult time building the bridges required to make the world we live in a better place for all of us.
Ultimately, my pragmatism demands that I prioritize. I enjoy critiquing religious ideas, and often do, but I also know that our religious differences are much less significant than the immediate problems facing our world. My friends and I are establishing a group called Secular Humanist Alliance of Chicago (SHAC), and at our last meeting we all agreed that we had no interest in hosting debates with religious people, as many secular groups often do, concluding that such things often just create more division. Instead, we want to have a community of Secular Humanists who get out into the world and engage in service. We’re hoping our first project will be a collaboration with a community garden and (GASP!) an after-school program at a church and that it will lead to a greater understanding of our beliefs in that community.
Mehta and I have a professional relationship, have collaborated before, and I respect him and the work he has done to help provide a voice for Atheists and other secular folks in our society. However, as much as I admire his advocacy for the wider societal acceptance of the non-religious, I think his desire to see religious people abandon their faith does us more harm than good. In my interfaith work I have become a stronger Secular Humanist, just as I’ve watched my peers grow in their faiths. I celebrate their evolution as they do mine because we are invested in one another, working together in a way that does not “let our differences slide,” as Mehta has suggested, but recognizes that the reality of said differences is superseded by the necessity to come together in respect, mutual admiration and common action.
Oh, and happy/smiling/rainbows-and-unicorns.