The Siren Song of Certitude

 At the risk of appearing disingenuous in the eyes of anyone on either side of this argument, or to those who have read any of my previous posts, here is the subject I wish to broach:

In the lively contest between religious believers and atheists, why are so many atheists succumbing to the siren song of certitude, that’s been the hallmark of virtually every religious belief system in the world, by calling on their like-minded colleagues to come out, and declare their belief in atheism?

 And please don’t claim an abuse of semantics here, on my part.  Does it mean anything different if folks are being asked to declare their atheist-ism?

In good conscience, how can men of science declare belief in anything, beyond the tried and true, empirically tested concept of the scientific method?

Isn’t it enough, that we define the very idea of god out of existence, as having no demonstrable force or effect that we can observe or measure, over the forces of nature, or the affairs of man?  And therefore afford divine or other-worldly ideas no standing, in our rational attempts to understand and work with the world that we live in?

Being given no place at the table of reason, when it comes to determining and governing the affairs of man, is both a reasoned and reasonable position, that any person of science, or the scientific method, can take.

What possible good reason do we have to jump up and spackle over that barest pinhole of possibility that ‘something might exist,’ in form or fashion, that can claim any authorship of purpose or design for the existence of ourselves or the world that we live in?

Because, just as religionists are rightly challenged in their presumption of declaring the realm of all things unseen or unknown as belonging to the exclusive realm of god, the answer to the question doesn’t automatically default to the atheists claim that there is no god.  They simply haven’t demonstrated that yet.

The fact is, the essential question of god lies well within the locus of men of science and the scientific method, and is not the exclusive turf of the religiously deluded.

Besides, the very idea of god is so ethereal and undefined, like trying to imagine the edge of space, that it probably should be left as a mental construct and conundrum for men to puzzle over.

So, am I an atheist? That depends on how you’re looking to define it.  However, I’ve worked very hard all my life, at sometimes great personal cost, to remove myself from labels, and from being labeled.  Somehow it gives people the idea that they can talk to you like they know you.  So I’m not all that hot on the idea of slapping another one on just now.

What I am comfortable with, is letting anyone know, who might wonder, that what I am is a secular humanistic philosopher and iconoclast, a seeker and speaker of the truth, and a man of the cloth of science.  I’m also a borderline Deist – one who believes that god, if there is one, has left us to our own devices here; that we are on our own to figure it out and make sense out of it all, which is probably the greatest gift any actual god could bestow on us (think about it).

 And in answer to the default question most often asked by people seeking guidance from their god of choice (you know the one), “Well if there is no god, what are we left with?”, I say, and this goes for believers and atheists alike, that what we are left with, is each other.  That’s right, so get used to it.  Quit trying to distance yourselves from each other, by coming up with new and novel ways to other each other.

The fact is, we’re all here “doing life.”  And in the school of life, you can spend your time leaning on your elbow while staring out the window, and daydreaming about life in some other place and time, without all these other pesky people in it.  Or, you can sit up and look around.  Because, if you look long and hard enough, what you will see is your own humanity looking back at you, from out of each other’s eyes.

Which brings me to the other side of this bent coin – or at least a peak around the edge, to see what’s going on with the other side.

That’s next.