The Language of Belief

By Violet Socks · Monday, January 16th, 2006 ·

There’s an interesting discussion in progress over at Pharyngula about the language barrier between believers and non-believers in America. Whereas non-believers speak in terms of evidence and logic, believers speak in terms of faith and supernatural power. As one commenter said, “It’s not just a ‘language’ problem. Languages can be translated. It’s a fundamental epistemological disagreement.”

I encounter this barrier every time I visit my relatives. My own immediate family is non-religious, but the extended family are mostly Christians. And it’s more than just a difference in language; it’s a difference in weltenschaung.

A few years ago, my brother and I were at a family reunion, catching up with a cousin we hadn’t seen in years. She was telling us of her struggles to have a child, the fertility treatments, the false positives, so on and so forth. All very normal and real-world. And then she said, “At that point I decided to just put it in God’s hands. ” She said this seriously, in the same tone of voice she’d used to describe her decision to take fertility drugs. My brother and I stared at her, mouths gaping. She might as well have said, “At that point, I decided to just wait for aliens from outer space to impregnate me.” Fortunately she didn’t notice (or just didn’t comment on) our discomfort, and went on to explain that she had, indeed, finally conceived and had a healthy boy.

This sort of thing happens every time I go for a visit. The last time I went, it was to attend a big birthday party I’d organized for the family matriarch. A couple of days beforehand, I’d gotten frustrated with the arrangements and sent a joking e-mail to my aunt threatening to stay home. It turned out that she had taken this e-mail seriously at first, and alerted some other relatives to start some kind of prayer vigil for me. I think they were praying to God for me to have strength or something and to find the will to continue. Whatever. Anyway, when they told me all this, I burst out laughing. Surely it was a joke, right? The looks on the faces let me know that it was not a joke. So I scrambled to put on a sober expression and come up with a more appropriate response. (I think I finally just said “thank you.”)

And then there’s the 9-year-old cousin whose immediate response to choking on a piece of food is to scream out, “Pray for me!” And his little brother, who is consumed with worry that his playmate, another cousin, is going to burn in hell for all eternity because he hasn’t been saved…and the teenage cousin (female) who plans to have “as many children as God gives me”…

Share this:
  • E-mail this story to a friend!
  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • del.icio.us
  • Digg
  • FriendFeed
  • NewsVine
  • Reddit
  • StumbleUpon
  • Technorati
  • Yahoo! Buzz
  • RSS
  • Print this article!
Filed under: Religion · Tags:

6 Responses to “The Language of Belief”

  1. will says:

    Have you tried slapping them and saying “God wanted me to slap you across the face for being so stupid.”?

    In all seriousness (ok, actually, I was serious before), I always try to hope that most of the time these Bible-thumpers mean “it is out of my hands and it will either happen or not happen.”

    But, I think that most of them think that God is up there counting how many prayers and the strength of those prayers in order to decide what to do.

    Perhaps we can start a prayer chain to stop them?

  2. Violet Socks says:

    I always try to hope that most of the time these Bible-thumpers mean “it is out of my hands and it will either happen or not happen.”

    I would like to think that too, but spending time with these folks doesn’t reassure me. They really seem to think that Invisible Jesus (kind of like Harvey!) is around all the time — helping them balance their checkbook, reminding them of dentist appointments, slashing prices at the carpet warehouse so they can get the living room done….

  3. Charlie says:

    This is an interesting post, perhaps moreso because I’ve been thinking a lot about the intersection of faith and nonbelief. I’m torn between PZ Myer’s outright hostility toward religion and Richard Carrier’s more tolerant approach. Or perhaps something in between. It’s hard to balance the two. I see that both of them are sincere in the reasons they have for taking their respective stances. And I agree with both of them.

  4. Violet Socks says:

    I’m glad for PZ’s voice and I think his point of view is needed in the public discourse. But I don’t share his complete hostility to religion. Too many atheistic arguments reduce all religion to absurdity — like the commenter on pharyngula who equated Christianity with believing that a man turns into a loaf of bread.

    Atheistic arguments also usually insist on an absolute philosophical materialism, which I think is unwarranted.

    My main problems with religion are really with specific religious behaviors, e.g.:
    1. Slavish adherence to ancient books and insistence that they represent God’s word, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary;
    2. Refusal to engage with any information that might contradict said ancient books;
    3. Belief that one’s own conception of God is absolutely correct and that others must adhere to it, or be castigated/shamed/burned at the stake.
    ..that sort of thing.

    Most beliefs associated with the revealed religions are simply wrong. They are factually incorrect. But it’s entirely possible to jettison that stuff and still maintain a religious point of view. I’ve known many people who are intellectually alive theists — they are fully in touch with modern knowledge, yet they maintain a belief in an unseen dimension and a benevolent God.

  5. belledame222 says:

    Most definitely.

    The cultural divide is really interesting. In some ways I get the basic idea of “put it in God’s hands;” a less overtly religious way of looking at it might be (for instance) Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ definition of “acceptance.” As in, some things–many, really–are simply beyond our control. Not least of which being death, of course. The entire culture we live in does have a *serious* taboo around death, much more so than the sex one, even–and, strikingly, that’s including or maybe even especially the most rabidly fundamentalist folks. One of these days I’m going to blog about their whole notion of “culture of death,” and what that actually means.

    I think part of a genuinely spiritual approach to life, regardless of doctrine (or lack thereof) includes an acceptance that we’re *not* omnipotent…or completely powerless, either. “God grant me the power to accept the things I cannot change, the strength to change the things I can change, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Strike the “God grant me” and it still works quite well, I think.

    Unfortunately, people being what they are, what you get more often are people who go, “Super! I am now one of the Elect! All I have to do is obey this laundry list of rules and give a lot of lip service to capital-G God (or capital-A America, or, well, a lot of people seem to equate the two these days, which is Not Good on an epic scale). Anyway, you might want to explain to your relatives whose first response to “I might get pregnant” or “I’m choking” is “pray,” there’s this little saying about how “the Lord helps those who help themselves.” Maybe even if birth control is a bridge too far, they might allow as to how the Heimlich maneuver might not be against Scripture, strictly speaking.

  6. belledame222 says:

    btw, just stumbled on this site, which seemed kind of apropos: How to Talk to a (Fundamentalist) Christian