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Great ExpectationsMay 18, 2007 The other day I started reading yet another article about atheism, religion, and God (yes, Richard Dawkins was quoted). I'm fascinated by the topic but I didn't get past the first page. Same old same-old: God is the problem. God is the answer. Belief in God is the answer. Nonbelief is the problem. This religion is the problem; that religion is the answer. Sooner or later it boils down to "My god can beat up your god" or "My not-god can beat up your god" and (implicitly) save the world in the process or at least make the world a better place. It's as if the propositions are being debated in a boxing ring in the flood-lit center of a huge arena with tiers and tiers of seats rising up to the eaves but the people in the seats aren't paying much attention: they're kibitzing among themselves, munching popcorn, hailing the hotdog vendor, downloading e-mail on their laptops . . . Input from the audience isn't solicited, welcome, or even possible. What sane person would want to climb through the ropes while two beefy guys (usually) are engaged in beating each other's brains out? In the article I stopped reading, someone wanted to know what reason atheists had to get up in the morning. True, the question itself isn't very interesting, but as so often happens with ho-hum questions, the assumption behind it is downright fascinating. Here the assumption is that God gets people up in the morning, or at least that people get up in the morning because of God: God is my alarm clock. In my twenties I had several sustained stretches where getting up in the morning took almost more effort than I was capable of mustering. Sometimes the only persuasive reason to do it was a dog who needed to go out. Other times I was expected at work and if I didn't take certain measures -- starting with getting out of bed -- I wouldn't get there. It was expectations -- the dog's, the boss's, my colleagues', and, way deep down, my own -- that got me through. Plenty of people may get up in the morning because God expects them to, but the crucial element here is the expectations, not who's doing the expecting. Expectations are powerful. They're also morally, ethically, politically, and every-other-way neutral. Their moral charge depends entirely on context: what are you being expected to do, both in the short term and in the long? Getting out of bed in the morning is usually a good thing, but what if you're getting out of bed in order to go to work in a concentration camp? That's a whole other subject -- or maybe it isn't. We'll see. What got me hooked years ago on the "God: Is There or Isn't There?" discussion was the question that went something like "If there's no God, what will keep people from doing whatever they want?" Assumptions: that "whatever they want" is scary and that without God we -- or, more likely, "they" -- would all be running amok. "Running amok" means different things to different people. When Rhodry was younger, if he was out of my sight for five minutes I was sure he was out hassling livestock, killing chickens, or committing some felony that was going to (if we were lucky) get me in trouble with Animal Control or (if we weren't) get him shot. Many women I know are afraid their bodies will run amok if they don't diet religiously and work out regularly. The U.S. is a nation of control freaks, but while we're busy trying to micromanage whatever routine we think needs micromanaging we've let go of the sheets and the sails are flapping ferociously in the wind. That's often the way it works, and no wonder God is so often invoked: it takes a clear head and a brave soul to imagine a way out of this mess that doesn't involve divine intervention. God told Moses, Harriet Tubman, and Martin Luther King Jr. to free their people. God told legions of white Christians that slavery was OK. God tells some women to become priests; God tells the pope that women can't be priests. Same God? Don't think so. Why would God tell different people such contradictory things, and clearly enough that interpretation doesn't seem to be a big problem? God seems to tell people what they want, need, hope, and expect to hear. To the brave it's "Take risks!" To the scared it's "Stand pat!" To the scared who are willing to act bravely it's "I'll be with you!" If you're looking for a divine underwriter, it doesn't make much sense. But what -- why didn't I think of this before? -- what if God is another name for Coyote? Can't you imagine Coyote whispering wildly contradictory words in thousands of human ears, and gleefully rubbing his paws to see what the humans do next?
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