Say Hello to My Invisible Friend
I think part of the problem we have with religion in this country is that, although believers are allowed to put forward policies based in their religious doctrine, challenging religious belief for any reason, on any grounds, is considered generally rude. For a believer who keeps his religion a matter of personal conscience, a courteous distance is appropriate, but once a believer enters the political ring, he should be subject to the same rough-and-tumble debate as everyone else. It’s okay to propose a law that homosexuals shouldn’t be married because God forbids it, but it’s not okay to demand proof of this supposed God before enacting the law on such grounds. We are expected to give full credence to the idea not merely despite the fact that someone has decided to believe against all evidence and argument, but because somebody has decided to believe against all evidence and argument. This is absurd, and we need to get past the idea that argument flows one and only one way between church and state.
We might find it easier to get past that hump through a change of label. When we speak of God, whether theist or atheist, we speak of a major component of western history, an idea that enjoys the weight of centuries and the work of some very powerful thinkers. We touch on cherished beliefs; shaking those beliefs can cause discomfort. Stop speaking of God as God in politics. Substitute “my invisible friend” instead. That’s what God is, when brought into political debate: an invisible friend who agrees with the believer, lending all the authority of his omniscient, ineffable wisdom, but never available for direct comment.
Instead of considering the proposal “God forbids gay marriage,” try rephrasing it “My invisible friend forbids gay marriage, and says we should rewrite the Constitution to agree.”
Not so persuasive any more, is it? Try these historical arguments; see how well they hold up.
“My invisible friend says I shouldn’t pay taxes, because I work so hard to share his ideas with people who can’t see or hear him.”
“My invisible friend wants us to stop teaching biology to our children, because it might make some children doubt that he has all the answers.”
“My invisible friend says you can’t give medicine to my sick child, because he will heal her if she believes hard enough. It’s a kind of test. If he doesn’t heal her, she didn’t deserve to be cured.”
“My invisible friend says we shouldn’t let Catholics into the country, because their invisible friend is a lie.”
“My invisible friend says we should do nothing to combat AIDS, because he’s using AIDS to punish people he doesn’t like.”
“My invisible friend says you should give me 10% of your income.”
“My invisible friend says these women should be set on fire.”
“My invisible friend says this man should be stoned to death for daring to speak my invisible friend’s name.”
“My invisible friend says it’s okay for me to kill all these people and take their land. Oh, and take their women as concubines.”
“My invisible friend says the world is flat, and that’s the end of it.”
Sounds very different, doesn’t it?