The End of Faith, by Sam Harris

Feeling like I've finished reading a half marathon, I recently finished reading Sam Harris' 2004 New York Times bestseller, The End of Faith. The 230ish page book wasn't the hardest thing I've ever read technically speaking, but it has left me drained. I've been chunking away at it for about 2 months (reading other books alongside), and now I'm ready to share a few thoughts on it.

The End of Faith is one of the latest installments of popular books railing against the institution of religion. Harris is an outspoken atheist on a mission given away by the book's title: to end religious faith once and for all.

As a person of faith, I found this book at times difficult to read as well as offensive as I suspect it is meant to be. There's no doubt that Harris, a philosopher by training, is a smart man. There were sentences in the book I'm sure I'll never be able to fully understand. His chapter on the psychology of religion was quite impressive from a literary standpoint, and I wouldn't dare to engage in a philosophical battle of wits with him. That would just be dumb.

Predominantly, Harris goes after our world's three most longstanding and largest religions: Christianity, Islam and Judaism. Out of the gate he goes after moderate Christians claiming we are the ones who have conceded to the Enlightenment but somehow still take the Bible as inerrant. His definition of a 'moderate' is one who is unwilling to fully submit to God's law, and he blames moderates saying our existence creates a context in which extremism can't be adequately opposed.

With his assessment and blame of moderates, I must disagree. I, personally, do not take the Bible as inerrant, and I scoff at being thrown into the category of "unwilling to submit fully to God's law." As if submitting to God's law was the point, as if the Bible was simply a rule book. For me, it is not. Also, as I see it, the existence of moderates likely does more to oppose extreme fundamentalism than would our absense. I would rather make efforts to change fundamentalists from inside the Christian camp than by outside pressure, which would only add fuel to the flame.

Harris spends much time going after religious history as a tactic to deter folks from faith. Calling on the Spanish Inquisition, the Crusades and the Holocaust, to name a few, he points out the horrible atrocities which have been the result of organized religion down through time. However, I'm fair sure religion was not the only, nor the leading cause of the holocaust, which was driven much by politics, economics and racism. No doubt, the Inquisition and Crusades were absolutely terrible, but I would contend that the faith driving the crusaders and inquisitors, when compared to modern day Christianity, is starkly different, even incomparable.

Mostly, Harris' pointing to history is more likely a scare tactic trying to make Christians feel guilty and feel a need to defend the actions of those living 6, 7, and 8 centuries ago. At times, Harris uses shock value as an attempt to ilicit an emotional response from the reader. This approach will surely rally those on his side and are meant to shake a person of faith.

One challenge to reading this book is that Harris has many good points. There is a lot of evidence with which to speak against organized religion. And Christians, or people of other faiths, should not get angry when they are brought up. Honest questions and problems raised by atheists should never be met with contempt. I found myself agreeing with Mr. Harris at times in every chapter; however, I cannot say I agree with many of his conclusions.

The most alarming part was the chapter in which he demonizes Islam. Harris tries his best to foster fear of this world powerful religion. It is scary at one point when he lists every verse in the Koran which speaks against infadels or those who fall from the faith. Constantly, this holy book commands their demise. However, this maneuver must be taken with caution. The vast majority of Muslims read these verses with the same smirk on their faces as Christians who read verses about burning witches and killing disobedient children in the Old Testament.

As a whole, Islam is a more conservative religion than Christianity. But by lumping the entire faith into one group, Harris is ignoring the fact that Islam is as widely varied with conservatives, moderates and liberals as Christianity. You just can't judge us all by the same standards. I am no expert on Islam, though I know a number of Muslims, and from talking with a Christian friend who lived 6 years in Muslim countries, I know enough to be very leary of Harris' blanket attack on this enormously peaceful religion.

The book caused me to strongly consider what is truly important about faith. Harris makes many good points and uses sound reason to knock out things that aren't really that vital. In doing so, this revealed to me what is actually worthy: acts of love, charity, kindness, acceptance, forgivness, freedom, compassion, etc., all things Jesus embodied.

In the end, Harris is a good, brash writer, and the book is informative and challenging. For the most part, he is not raising any new arguments against religion, and I think he is generally preaching to the atheist chior. If you aren't a fundamentalist you will stand far less critiqued by this book.

Humanity has a pretty rough and ugly history. And since the majority of people in our traceable history have been religious, I guess religion also has had a rough and sometimes ugly track record. Harris' thinks that by doing away with the whole thing we will be better off, but, ironically, this is a leap of faith I simply cannot take.

Backwards

You will enjoy this poem I came across from a book called Dangerous Wonder: The Adventure of Childlike Faith, by Michael Yaconelli. The poem's author is anonymous, but it will warm your heart and put a grin on your face. I love it.

Enjoy.

Life is tough. It takes up much of your time,

all your weekends, and what do you get in the end of it?

I think that the life cycle is all backward.

You should die first, get that out of the way. Then you live twenty

years in an old-age home. You get kicked out when you're too

young. You get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty

years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement.

You go to college, you party until you're

ready for high school, you go to grade school, you become a

little kid, you play. You have no responsibilities.

You become a little baby, you go back into the womb,

you spend your last nine months floating, and you

finish up as a gleam in somebody's eye.

Dirt

My in-laws had big problem: a leaky basement.

Their house is set on a hill. On the front, the basement is completly below ground, though on the back everything is exposed. When it rained heavily, water seeped into the basement very clearly from the front wall.

For years this has been a problem, and over the past week many of us have chipped in to help correct it.

Our mission: dig out front yard, repair cracked, broken and leaky front wall, install French drain system and re-fill massive hole.

In the 1st picture you can see the two mounds of dirt are each about 9 feet high. Yikes!

As you can see the hole extends about 11 feet below the front door threshold.

The project lasted a week. Once the hole was dug by a huge machine, we spent days shovelling more dirt out of the way. We also had to dig our own trench around the side of the house for the French drain to go. The machine couldn't reach that far. So, this was the hardest part and took the longest.

Here's a picture along the front of the house from down in the dirt hole. To give you some bearing, the water pipe you see spanning the gap is about 1.5 feet below the ground level.

These two pictures are taken from inside the front door.

Watch out for that first step!

At one point, I started from the lowest point in the hole and ninja climbed all the way to the top of the highest pile of dirt. And in doing so, I learned one of those ancient timeless life lessons that only old wise Chinese men seem to know: Dirt is like sand in its ability to get into places you didn't know you had.

This picture is taken with the camera at eye level, and it's still 8 more feet to the top.

My back was sore for days from shoveling dirt. The hardest part was that we had to sling the dirt up over the edge! I was lucky enough to not be there when the truck load of gravel was delivered. The one thing worse than slinging shovels heaping with dirt is moving piles of gravel. Those helping out that day are still complaining and still hurting.

After twice saying he'd show up and then cancelling, the man with the big machine finally showed up to refill the hole which gave the house back its front yard (or at least front dirt spot).

Next venture: landscaping. Heather is excited!

Rounds

The NICU is the most sweetest, mostest precious area in the hospital. Each time I make rounds through it I notice something different.

Little medical cribs line the walls of a room that has thousands of square feet. Some cribs are enclosed in a clear plexy glass incubator to keep out any and every unwanted germ. Others are open with little babies lying in the center - some cozy, some unhappy. Some have special UV lights shining over them to help skin develop, but sometimes the blue UV light is coming from underneath and it's illuminating the whole flat surface they're on, which makes it look very futuristic and alien-like.

Every Tuesday morning we gather for Interdisciplinary Team Meeting to discuss the patients. Each baby has his or her own set of needs.

In the step down (less intesinve) unit, a nurse was bottle feeding a baby, which is one of the skills each baby must learn to do well before being discharged. The nurse maintained constant movement of the tip of the bottle in the baby's mouth. This keeps the baby stimulated, focused on the task and hand, and "it keeps the baby awake," said the nurse. We don't want anyone falling asleep during meal time. (However, I do love eating and naps. To combine the two seems unlawfully blissful.)

Another little guy has been in the NICU for a long time. He has his own little room with lots of colors, a hanging mobile, and a TV in front of him which plays baby learning videos to keep him stimulated. Today, when I walked in, a volunteer was holding him. With every breath he makes a grunting sound (indicative of his health concerns), and his eyes are huge and adorable as they gazed back at mine. I love visiting him. And I love his large, bright, inquisitive eyes.

I visited the last surviving baby boy of pre-mature triplets. The family and staff have had their hearts ripped out twice as his brother died days after birth and then his sister just last week. Their bodies were just to sick to survive. When this little guy was born his toes were transleucscent, and his skin was so thin you could see virtually every vien and some muscles through it. Daily, mom gives him pep talks, because she just can't go through losing another child.

Two babies' cribs are close to each other. One is a tiny little 1.5 pounder struggling to use his eyes and savoring every breath. The other is a full weight healthy and chubby girl who looks strangly out of place in the NICU.

My experience in this unit has made me come to appreciate the fatness of every healthy baby I come across. Most NICU babies are unlike most Americans as their health depends greatly on their ability to gain weight. The opposite is true for the rest of us.

The NICU is sad and tender. It holds a somber and yet reverent mood in the air. I marvel at the parents' ability to see the good, the hopefull, and I stand amazed at just how beautifully and wonderfully we are made.

Pain

It's hard to watch another person suffer. There's something about another person's pain that makes us (me atleast) very uncomfortable. In the hospital, I've had ample opportunity to be present when others are hurting, and so far, I haven't really figured out what to do with it yet.

I went to talk to a patient who, aside from heart problems, suffered from seizure activity in her brain. As I began to speak with her, she suddenly became silent, turned her head slowly to the left and twitched her eyes to the left as far as they would go. She was having a siezure as I sat beside her. I don't know if siezures like that are acutely painful or not, but it can't be pleasant to suddenly lose control of your body. When it was over it was like her eyes snapped back under her control and she slowly turned her head forward again.

One man, after a grueling heart surgery, could only respond to me using one word, "help." I asked if I could enter the room, and he nodded clearly fixing his attention on something not visible in the room. I soon discovered his attention was fixed on the severe pain he was experiencing. He was able to talk, but when I asked him any question the only response he would give was, "help," as he winced in pain.

I've stood over car accident victims in the trauma bay in excruciating pain to which pain killer medicine can only do so much good.

As a non-medical person in the hospital, my job is not to relieve pain. Were I a doctor or nurse or whatever, I'm sure I would be able to offer hurting patients something to relieve their suffering. But, as a chaplain, my job simply to sit there. In the pain, watching pain, feeling some pain of my own. This is an awkward thing for me. I am trained to help you deal with your emotional pain (if you want to go there), but regarding physical pain, honestly, I'm pretty useless.

So, for me, at this point in my job, I'd have to say that sitting and watching a person in pain is one of the hardest things to do. But what are my other options? I think it's bad form if the chaplain fled the room everytime somebody was hurting.

Sometimes, I'll be talking with a patient who has pain hit him all the sudden for a few moments. I sit there, and when the episode is over we continue our visit. Sometimes, it's as if nothing had happened. Sometimes we talk about the pain the frustration, anger and fear that random acute pain can cause.

So, what do I do? Suggestions are welcomed. Other chaplains reading this: what do you do with tangible pain during a visit?

Why is marijuana illegal?

I was reading something recently that pricked in my mind the question which serves as the title for this post: Why is marijuana (Mary-Jane, i.e. MJ) illegal?

To clarify, I have never done marijuna, no, not even during my teenage rebellious year. Nor, is this post meant to advocate that this drug ought to be released from its illegalized prison. I'm not on a mission, I'm just curious.

The question behind this question is really a comparison between MJ and alcohol-an addictive and legal drug which is easily obtainable and alters on'e mental state and good-decision making capabilities.

Here are the observable facts. Alcohol, which I very rarely partake, can become lethal fairly easily. It all too often causes car accidents, relieves people of their inhibitions contributing to violence, injury, unplanned pregnancy and the spread of STD's. Consumed over many years, alcohol often leads to brain impairments, cirrhosis of the liver and early death. In the US some 100,000 deaths are attributed to alcohol use each year. Alcohol, alongside crack-cocaine, is the most damaging to a developing fetus of any drug (fetal-alcohol syndrome, anyone?).

Don't shoot the messenger, but you can't level any of these charges against MJ.

Marijuana, so far as we know, has no lethal dose; however, it does have a number of legitimate medicinal applications, particularly for cancer patients suffering severe nausea. It is not a good idea to operate a car after using MJ; however, it is far less inhibiting than alcohol when it comes to driving.

I have heard of a number of people who have smoked themselves stupid on marijuana, and many more than have drank themselves stupid and sometimes drank themselves dead. So far, I've not heard of anyone smoking himself dead on MJ.

MJ has also been lambasted as a gateway drug to harder more dangerous substance abuse. This claim is probably the most lefitimate case against the drug; however, I dare say it is not near as bad a risk or problem as we'd like to think. Alcohol can also be as just an effective gateway drug.

Then there's the fact that marijuana is naturally occurring. It doesn't have to be cooked down in a lab or chemically altered before use. There's something to this. I'm not sure what, but something.

So, I would go as far as to say that, plainly speaking, marijuana is less dangerous and harmful to both individuals and society than alcohol. But, alcohol is culturally acceptable, whi

le MJ is associated with law-breaking, bra-burning hippies from the 60's; and thus, it started out with a very negative social connotation.

Why is marijuana illegal Given that we're supposed to live in an enlightened society, I'm not quite sure. Again, I'm not advocating that we legalize of encourage the use of yet another mind altering chemical. i'm simiply remarking at a head scratching quandery. I think it is clear that alcohol is wose than marijuana, yet alcohol is legal and Mary-Jane is not. Somehow, that almost seems a bit silly...don't you think?

Clearly, there is more to say on the subject (not to mention the would be tax benefits), and I certainly don't know everything about it. So, any further comments or corrections are appreciated.

Thoughts?

Lying

Here's the situation. I live in Asheville, NC 50 miles away from Spartanburg, SC where I work. Different state, different city, different sub-culture.

Occasionally, patients will ask where I live, or where I'm from or how long I've worked at the hospital. If I say Asheville, I then have to go into a long explanation about living in one city and working in another. And honestly, the drive isn't that bad, yes it takes an hour, sometimes I carpool, it's because my wife is in pharmacy school, and it's only for 1 year. But this has grown tiresome. So, I try to steer conversations away from myself and my situation. Sadly this doesn't always work.

One recent conversation left me chuckling, because when I left the room, I had the patient convinced that I had recently moved to Spartanburg and was still learning my way around. The problem is, I'm not so sure I ever lied. What do you think?

Patient: Do you know where the (something) is out on Pine St.?
Nathan: No, I'm not too familiar with that part of town.
Patient: Well, how long have you been here?
Nathan: Only about 9 months.
Patient: Is your wife working? Does she like it?
Nathan: She's completing here final year of pharmacy school.
Patient: What church to you go to?
Nathan: Well, we're usually in Asheville for the weekends. Our parents live there. We've been going to a church up there.
Patient: Oh, that's nice to have them close and get to go out of town on the weekends. So, how have you liked living in Spartanburg so far?

At this point, I'm so far into the illusion that I actually live in Spartanburg, I can't correct her now. But I can't recall ever answering with a straight forward lie. All her questions were legitimate, and all my answers were true statements.

So, I never intentionally misled her; however, I didn't correct her apparant assumptions either. Is that passive lying? Is there anything wrong with that? Help me out here.

I don't know, but either way, I giggled as I left the room thinking, "Heather's gonna hate having to move to Spartanburg now."


Contrasting quotes:

"You shall not give false testimony." Exodus 20: 16

"It is always the best policy to speak the truth, unless of course you are an exceptionally good liar." -Jerome K. Jerome

2 Years Old

Well, it's official, my blog is two years old! On March 21, 2008 I sat at my computer, created an account and wrote two introductory posts to kick start this blog.

The first post ever was an attempt to introduce the title and purpose of the blog. The second post is an introduction to my wife as a means to better get to know this blog's author: me.

Over these two years I have blogged about home life, school, theology, my dogs, books, movies and work. I've worked as a grad school TA, Harris Teeter cashier, a college pastor, and a hospital chaplain. Each of these venues has resulted in some pretty interesting posts; however, my work as a chaplain has certainly yielded the most.

I've shared some very sad stories juxtaposed with posts that bring humor to the reading expereince. Variety has been one of my goals.

Some of my favorite posts have been this one about my wife, this goofy one about a psych patient, the one about learning lessons, this one about hard theological questions, the post just before this about my greeter dogs, this one that makes me laugh and this one which breaks my heart.

I'd very much like to hear what you may like about this blog. Which posts are more appealing? Less appealing? Have any posts from the past stuck in your mind? Do you have a favorite?

I guess what I'm looking for is reader feedback. Suggestions for how to make it better or what to stop doing will be received gracefully. If you've never left a comment, please do just to let me know you're reading.

I'm glad to celebrate the blog's second birthday (or should it be an anniversary?), and I hope to be writing new posts two years from now.

Peace.

Dog Theology, part 6: Greeters

When you walk through the front doors of the EC (Emergency Center) you are met by one or two friendly faces behind the front desk: the greeters. Over the past 10 months (yes, it's been that long already!) I've developed a fun and strong working relationship with the EC Greeters as we see them often in trauma situations.

There's the shorter, stout, muscular guy who looks like his growth was stunted from working out at a young age. There's the extremely short hobbit sized guy who looks like he could be a contemporary Christian musician. There's the huge-sized gregarious former pastor former chaplain turned greeter extraordinaire. There's the thin, dark gentleman who's eager to get to know people but somehow reserved about it at the same time. There's the classy lady whose hair is different every single time I see her.

When you're having a bad day, bad enough to come to the hospital, you'll be greeted by one of these who will somehow make your day a little better if only by putting you in line to see the doctor.

When I get home everyday, I have a pair of greeters of my own. Here's how it typically goes down. The moment my hand touches the handle I get barked at. Opening the door, I usually see one dog very closely and another en route, both followed by mini baseball bats (I mean tails) oscilating to and fro. My toes are stepped on, my hands get sniffed and left moist. One jumps in the air but takes great pains as she fights the urge to put her paws on me. My knees get pushed on and locked as one rubs her furry body against them. An irresistable smile overtakes my face.

When I have a bad day, I can always trust these two expert greeters to lift my spirits and make me feel loved. That's the divine gift that God gives dogs.

I also think it parallels the way God is always ready to greet us. I don't mean necessarily only when we die or whatever; but, God must be ever-ready to receive us delightfully through prayer or presence, making our day as we simply give mind to the presence of the divine.

Reflections

Here are three more reflective theological exercises for you. They are similar to the one I posted in "Little Theologians."

Again, I invite you to fill one or all of them out on your own and post them into the comments section. I'd love to read your words. Also, as a reminder, you don't need to spend lots of time thinking about your answers; just write what comes to you first (as it is more telling about your view of self, theology, world, etc.).

Enjoy.


Gratitude
by Erin Miller

Today, I am so glad that I'm a ___________ not a ______________ (occupation). Today, I am blessed by the sounds of _________________. I am blessed by the sight of ____________________. And I am blessed by the taste of _____________________. Today, I am thankful for _____________ and _______________. And I can't wait for ___________________. Today, I am grateful and glad about it.

So then, just as you recieved Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. Col. 2:6-7


I AM

I am _____________
I am _____________
I am _____________
I am _____________
God whispers to me _____________
God whispers to me _____________
God whispers to me _____________
God whispers to me _____________
God delights in my_____________
God delights in my_____________
God delights in my_____________
God delights in my_____________
I know God is with me when ____________
I know God is with me when ____________
I know God is with me when ____________
I know God is with me when ____________
I am _____________


Reflections on My Life
When dream (i.e. hope/wish), I dream of ___________.
My favorite color is ______ because it reminds me of ________.
When I think of my family, I think of ____________.
What I love most about my life is ____________.
What I would love to change about my life is _____________.
What I wish people knew about me is _____________.
What I hope my family remembers about me is _____________.
When i think of love, I think about _____________.
My most wonderful memory is ____________.

What do you think will happen when you die? ______________.
What scares me most about dying and death is _______________.
What do you look forward to with death? _______________.
My biggest hope for this world is ______________.
When i think of God, I see or I imagine _______________.
I think heaven will be like _____________.

Ray-D-'ay-shun

I recently took a tour of the raditaion area of our oncology center. The on-staff physicist (they keep a physicist on staff?!) showed us around and blew our minds. We took the tour to become more able to get into the emotional shoes of our patients.

Radiation Therapy, also referred to as XRT, is the medical use of ionizing radiation as a means to treat and kill cancerous cells. About half of cancer patients will undergo some form of radiation therapy, but it is always alongside other forms of treatment (such as chemotherapy or surgery). On average, a patient will recieve XRT for 20-30 consecutive business days in one cycle of treatment. The treatment itself only lasts approximately 5 minutes; but, it's the prep time which runs the clock and also fascinates not just the the simple-minded (my people).

First of all, the radiation machines are massive. When the facility was built, the machines had to be included in the initial stages of construction as they are too big and too heavy to be moved into a completed building. Weighing thousands of pounds the devices are literally part of the wall and flooring in their not-very-small rooms. From the walls in 3-dimensions there are light lazer beams which form a cross hairs in the center of the room to maintain a consistent absolute center.

These are necessary so technicians can be so precise as to erradiate an area no bigger than a half dollar. On some places of the body, such as the lungs, the cancer cells are constantly in motion; but, the technology is so advanced it can track the movement, compensate and take care of business without erradiating the wrong areas! Precision is the order of the day.

Patients often need to lay in awkward positions very still. But if the patient can't move a certain way, the entire machine can swivel around to gain the needed angle. When the physicist moved the machine for us, it felt like the entire room was spinning.

This is scary. They make these plastic grated molds that will fit around different areas of your body. Each one is formed specifically to the patient. The mold serves to keep you in the exact position and location consistently from one visit to the next so that the radiation hits the exact same spot every time. Can you imagine laying on a cold table with a gigantic R2-D2 revolving around you while trapped in this face cage of fear?!

For another blogger and chaplain's take on the rad radiation gizmos, click here. (And yes, V, I am copying your picture!)