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Does Christianity Create an Unnecessary Dependence on God?

Stephany asked me this question earlier today, before ranting about some unsavory Christian proselytization methods she had encountered.  She felt that Christians were shaming, guilt-tripping, and pressuring people into feeling completely morally inadequate, and that the only antidote is to grovel at God’s feet for forgiveness.  She complained that it is completely inappropriate to damage people in such a way that they feel insufficient to do anything good, and then hold out the cure at the price of conversion.  It’s like beating up someone so that they’ll be grateful to you for taking care of their wounds later.  Listening to her, I agreed with many of her points, but a few remarks did not sit well with me.  After further discussion and clarifiying that neither of us were actually personally attacking the other, it was soon time for her to sleep, and so she asked me to post the rest of my thoughts here.  Now I’ve thought some more about the question at hand, and I would have to agree that yes, Christianity does indeed create a dependence on God.  However, this dependence has little to do with one’s ability to perform good, moral actions.

A person’s moral ability to perform good or evil does not depend at all on his allegiance to God.  However, I do admit that many Christians seem to think it does.  Many seem to think that without a god to anchor their worldview, atheists are completely incapable of any sort of morality and do not possess any sense of good or evil.  This belief is not at all supported in the Bible, and the Christians who do believe it are conflating the concept of depravity and salvation with the concept of moral ability.  The Bible is quite clear on a non-Christian’s ability to perform good, moral deeds.  Consider Paul’s comparison of Jews and Gentiles in Romans 2, with its obvious extensions to Christians (like Jews, they’re supposed to have an idea of what God wants) and to non-Christians (like Gentiles, they’re supposed to not have an idea of what God wants).

12For all who have sinned without the law will also perish without the law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law. 13For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be justified. 14For when Gentiles, who do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law.

—Romans 2:12–14

Thus Paul destroys any connection between one’s ability to please God and one’s knowledge of God’s requirements.  Someone who does what God desires, without even knowing that God desires it, pleases God much more than another who knows what God desires but does not do it.  There are many examples of such not-knowing-and-yet-doing persons in the Bible, from Abimelech king of Gerar (Genesis 20:4–6) to Rahab the prostitute (Judges 2; Hebrews 11:31; James 2:24–26) to the widow of Zarephath (I Kings 17:8–24) to Sennacherib king of Assyria (II Kings 19:22–28; Isaiah 37:23–29) to Cyrus king of Persia (Isaiah 44:28–45:7).  In Cyrus’ case specifically, Isaiah takes care to mention the irony that Cyrus is doing something that is quite pleasing to God without him knowing about it, and God’s purpose in doing so is that everyone may know God:

5I am the Lord, and there is no other,
besides me there is no God;
I equip you, though you do not know me,
6that people may know, from the rising of the sun
and from the west, that there is none besides me;
I am the Lord, and there is no other.

—Isaiah 45:5–6

In light of such passages, it is completely ludicrous for any Christian to believe that non-Christians are incapable of performing good, moral actions, or that they are unable to change any bad behavior, or that they do not have a sense of good and evil.  Non-Christians are very much capable of doing all these things and more.  This is not the type of dependence that Christianity creates.  Assuming minimal demonic interference, humans are perfectly capable of dealing with any sort of conflict situation amongst themselves.  Indeed, any sort of moral, behavioral change in people follows a willingness to deal with people’s characters and to accept responsibility for their own shortcomings, and this process is not particularly easier when one is Christian.

Then what kind of dependence does Christianity create?  Aside from the universal dependence on God maintaining the whole universe and each of our lives, etc., that the Christian readers already cherish and the non-Christian readers already roll their eyes about, there is still the matter of a relational dependence.  Christians depend on God to maintain His relationship with them, and in so doing they become dependent on the relationship as well.

In any functional relationship between two persons, there is interdependence.  There cannot be a functional relationship if only one side cares about it.  A relationship must have open communication, giving and taking, a willingness to address the core issues instead of just the symptoms, and so on.  These are easily sabotaged when one side shuts off, becomes unwilling to listen, or just plain stops caring.  Therefore, one person depends on the other to mutually come halfway, and if the other person refuses, no amount of persuasion, nagging, or bribing may convince him otherwise.  Such measures may even poison the relationship further.

So as Christians seek to love their God (or at least they’re supposed to), they depend on His love towards them as well.  Is such dependence necessary?  No, for without a relationship with God, there is no need for Him to maintain a nonexistent relationship.  Consider the following analogy.

When a girl is single, she gets along just fine.  She lives life normally, doing all the things that she likes to do.  She is content with her life; she has a loving family and good friends; and she can do whatever she wants, wherever she wants, and with whomever she wants because she doesn’t have to think about a boy.  However, one day she meets a boy and she falls in love.  The girl and the boy make a wonderful couple.  They treat each other well, and they love each other very much.  But a fundamental change has occurred in the girl’s life.  Now wherever she goes, she thinks about the boy.  Whatever she does, she wishes that the boy were with her.  When life sucks, she goes and talks with her boy, and she feels better when he comforts her.  She is very happy when she’s with him, and she misses him a lot when he’s away.

What has changed in the girl’s life?  She has developed a dependence on the boy!  When they are apart, she misses him and goes through boy-withdrawal.  When they’re together, she’s glad.  Is this dependence necessary?  Of course not.  She was perfectly capable of living life to the fullest as a single girl.  Why then, would she want to have such a relationship with him?  Isn’t it better to live independently?  Isn’t it better to go without thoughts of the boy dragging with her everywhere?

But see, that is not how the girl perceives her situation.  And it is not how Christians perceive their situation.  The unnecessary dependence on God that Christianity creates is very much like the unnecessary dependence on a significant other that a romantic relationship creates.  The girl loves the boy with all her heart.  She was not dependent on the boy before meeting him because she did not know him.  And while she is aware of her growing dependence on this boy, she would not wish to return to her former state without the boy.  Likewise, Christians love their Lord.  They were not dependent on Him prior to their conversion.  And yes, they are aware that they are continually becoming more dependent on their God.  But they wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Posted in Christianity.


I am not Christian, but I will defend Christianity.

Where is the prince sufficiently educated to know that for seventeen hundred years the Christian sect has done nothing but harm?

— Voltaire

If you talked to me when I was in high school, I would have firmly and adamantly agreed with Voltaire.  I would have spouted off about how hypocritical it is to claim yourself to be a member of a religion of love, yet kill others in the name of your Lord.  I would scoff at Christians, roll my eyes at churches, and avoid the Bible as if it were poison.  And I know people who will indeed treat Christianity in this way: who seize every opportunity they can to ridicule Christianity and Christians, to dismantle their religion whenever possible.

I, however, am no longer one of those people.

I’m not sure when exactly this change happened.  I remember that, when I first met Abraham and discovered that he was Christian, I was a bit turned off, although I wasn’t entire repulsed—I mean, many of my friends in high school were indeed Christian, so it wasn’t like I purposefully avoided associating with them.

Initially, the religious aspect of our relationship was rocky—I think, by then, the militant nature of my atheism had lessened a bit, but he was still a pretty conservative, fundamentalist Christian, at least as far as theology goes.  Abraham had definitely tried to convert me in the beginning of our relationship, which upset both of us.  Gradually, as we got closer and we talked more about this, and, as we dealt with problems in our own ways, I began to appreciate Christianity more, while he began to realize that atheists too can teach Christians about morality and spirituality.

Which leads me to today. Nowadays, I will take a stand and argue against people who try to claim that Christianity has done nothing but harm.  I may not agree with mainstream Christianity’s views on certain social issues, and I may not agree with certain aspects of Christian theology, but I will uphold and support the core message of Christianity: love. 

I greatly admire the humanitarian work that Christians do, all of the help that Christians have provided to their community based on the example that Jesus provided for them.  Through Abraham’s service, I have seen Christianity in a way that I never saw it before: I saw the unconditional love that Christians can give to others, the charity they provide to others even when they themselves have little to give.  I saw how he and other Christians would take social rejects under their wings and love them.  I, meanwhile, was taught to avoid the homeless, to avoid people with substance problems, and to be wary of them, while Abraham has grown up purposefully approaching those people to provide them with help.

And I have personally felt Abraham’s unconditional love for me—a love that stayed with me even when I did terrible things, a love that I never imagined possible—a love inspired by the way Christ loved others.

So, no, even if I currently define myself as an agnostic atheist, I will not agree with you or support you if you blindly bash Christianity as a religion of hate and intolerance, or as a religion that has only done harm—simply because it’s a statement that is utterly untrue, and I cannot, in good conscience, perpetuate a lie.


NB: Of course, I’ll defend religion as a whole and people’s rights to believe in the religion they want to believe, and, of course, other religions also teach about love. But, as a person who grew up in the United States, the primary dichotomy that I know if is atheism vs. Christianity, and the religion I know most about is Christianity.  Please forgive my ignorance and know that I’m not purposefully trying to be exclusionary of other religions, philosophies, and worldviews.

Posted in Christianity, Reflections.

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Calendars (alternatively: it’s the tiny details that reveal the most)

Catch the foxes for us,
     the little foxes
that spoil the vineyards,
     for our vineyards are in blossom.

— Song of Solomon 2:15

So it’s probably a little awkward for me, the atheist agnostic, to open up the first post of this blog with a Bible verse.  See, originally, I had this grand idea that Abraham and I were each going to make a long, revealing introductory post with the nitty-gritty details of what we believe, thus giving each other and our potential readers some kind of footing to work with in understanding our future posts.

Obviously, that didn’t happen.

Instead, this is what happened:  I added this new blog to my website, fiddled around with the layout, then got around to fiddling with the settings.  Under the general settings, there’s an option to adjust the time format (I use AM/PM, whereas Abraham uses 24-hour time), and an option to change the day on which the week starts.

Abraham and I have debated the existence of God.  We have had long, deep discussions about religion, about Christianity, about atheism; we have discussed some nitty-gritty details of the Bible, and we have discussed the nature of reality.  But this moment, this detail—does the week start on Sunday or Monday?—challenged our fundamental beliefs in a way that none of those other topics even approximated.

Okay, perhaps that last part was an exaggeration.  I’m sure our discussions about God had the potential to be more Earth-shattering than our bickering over which day the week starts on.  But, as Abraham so eloquently put it, “With the other topics, our beliefs didn’t affect the other’s day-to-day life. This one, however, does.”

It’s kind of funny.  Part of being in an interfaith relationship in which we don’t hesitate to talk about matters of religion is realizing the presuppositions and assumptions on which you base your arguments and worldviews.  Yet this particular one had gone unchallenged for both of us for so long that it was, in all honesty, a shock for us to realize that the other viewed this exact same thing in a fundamentally different way.

For me, the week starts on Monday.  I always conceptualized Saturday and Sunday as the weekend, and, therefore, ending the week.  They were always the quiet days, the days of rest before school or work kicked in again, which signaled the start of the week.  But, for Abraham, the week starts on Sunday.  Since he learned how to read, he’s been reading the Bible.  As he told me, he read about how, after God created the world, He rested on the seventh day (Saturday, apparently), and, from then on, he saw the week as beginning on Sunday—the first day.

Of course, I’d known previously that some people believe that the week begins on Sunday.  But to face it and realize that we had two totally different conceptualizations of the organization of time was, to put it plainly, mind-blowing.

And that’s pretty much what this blog is about.  I chose the name “Prism” because I wanted a metaphor for how both of us (and all of humanity, really) are presented with more or less the same reality, and that we all refract it into our own different ways of viewing the world, each of which—for me, at least—forms part of the truth.  Abraham probably disagrees with me on the nature of truth, but, well, if that’s the case, I’ll let him expound on that.

The purpose of this blog is to allow both of us to have a space in which we can talk about religion, philosophy, faith, beliefs, lack of beliefs, anything.  It’s a place where we can voice our opinions for others to hear, a place where we can refute ideas we disagree with or support ideas we do agree with, and a place where we can better understand each other.

So that’s the housewarming party.  If you’re interested, feel free to subscribe to the RSS feed, and leave comments if you have anything to share.  Thanks for reading!

Posted in Reflections.

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