Jim Etchison discusses the three factors leading to American beliefs in a skewed version of history.
Memetics in action.
The latest decal to festoon the windows of cars all over the country is the edgy “NotW” sticker. You may have seen it. It bears the tough-looking lines of any other clothing or car accessory logo.
When having honest discussions with Christians, I’ve heard many times that they feel the universe is a more beautiful place because God is in it. What we deem as beautiful is often a result of what we’ve been conditioned to think is beautiful.
Imagine you baked two dozen cookies and your secret ingredient was cashew nut oil. You know you put cashew nut oil into the batter. You bought it, you tasted it, and you poured it in.
This is a very popular argument these days. Christians proclaim that without God, morality cannot exist, and there would be nothing keeping a person from robbing and killing another person because one’s own self-interest would be all that matters.
This misconception is frequently alluded to in Christian circles in an attempt to discount the findings of the scientific community as merely “one man’s opinion.” While there is a constant hum of debate among scientists, Christians seem to think that no one agrees on anything, and that there are no theories that aren’t questionable.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that scientists have just as much faith in their theories as religious people do in their dogma. It frustrates me every time. Anyone who says this is defining theory, faith, or both, incorrectly.
People of every stripe tend to generalize about other groups. We all do it, and it’s mostly subconscious. It makes it easier for us to handle the massive amount of information we hear on a daily basis. If we can automatically qualify the source of information, it makes it easier to determine how credible it is.
Like many of you, I left my faith with an abiding mistrust of religion. But since I had been listening for decades to a man talk from behind a pulpit, those teachings made a significant dent in my thinking.
I eventually realized that I had been severely misguided when it came to science.
I visited Japan and ran across a statue of a dog I’d never heard of before. The dog came every day with his master to the train station and waited at the platform all day until his master returned from work. One day his master died while at work, and the dog waited for the rest of his life for his master to return, never leaving the station. Each day at the correct time he would sit and look at everyone getting off the train to see if his master was among them. The dog, named Hachiko, was remembered by the memorial where I stood.
The story gripped my heart. I realized I was like Hachiko. I was patterning my entire life around an event—the return of Jesus—that was never going to happen. Once I allowed myself to be open to the painful truth, it crashed down upon me like a sledgehammer. There was no happy eternal ending for me. This life is all there is, and I was wasting it by waiting for a master who would never return.