across a couple of interesting articles today, both of which other
folks sent to me. The first story
came from my friend, Andrew, who considers himself marginally
religious, if at all, but he is a regular follower of my stuff. The
article he sent cites research that found that atheists are more
compassionate and generous than highly religious folks.
Actually, this doesn’t surprise me. Back when I waited
tables, the Sunday after-church crowd was the absolute worst of the
week to wait on. They took forever, were super-picky, were terrible
tippers and tended to be the most critical customers I had. It really
killed me when, instead of leaving a tip, they’d leave a tract on the
table. If you’re not familiar with these, they’re little booklets that
some Christians pass out to try and save people. They justify
substituting this for money because saving my soul is a far greater
gift than a couple of dollars. Well, I’ve got news for you. The last
time I tried to pay rent with a tract, my landlord wasn’t impressed.
Second, that assumes an awful lot about me, my beliefs and my needs,
doesn’t it?
I’m digressing but the point is, I identified with
this article just by the title alone. It actually reminded me of a
church sign that warrants a second look (see picture).
Another friend of mine, Paul, posted the following
reflection about why this somewhat counter-intuitive phenomenon might
be. He said: "When religious people do ‘good things’, they are often
doing so in conditioned response to an ethereal reward/punishment set
of beliefs. When non-believers do ‘good things’, it is because they
want to do them." Tragic if true but I think Paul might be on to
something. I should note that Paul is involved in ministry, like me,
so he’s not throwing stones from a distance.
I also wonder if it has something to do with the
comfort that comes with being part of the cultural majority. Yes,
there are Christians who will claim we’re part of a persecuted
minority but that’s simply ignorant. Christians have had the lion’s
share of power in this country for a long, long time and it shows in
our attitudes. We assume that what "we believe" is normal and that
anything else is an aberration. The result of this is that anyone who
doesn’t claim to be a Christian is made much more aware of it because
of their difference.
It’s like what I’ve written before about the inherent
privilege of being straight. Generally, straight people don’t think
about being straight as much as gay people think about being gay
namely because the "default" sexual orientation – aka, the majority
identity – is that of straight people. The fact is, we don’t think
about who we are and how we act nearly as much when we’re the ones in
control.
Atheists, on the other hand, are fairly regularly
persecuted (socially at least) for their lack of belief. They are made
quite aware of their atheism either because of how they’re treated for
it or because they have to keep silent about it for fear of being
ridiculed. So perhaps with this tendency to be more self-conscious
comes an equally more self-aware set of behaviours and attitudes. Put
another way, if you’re part of a group that is stereotyped in a
negative way, you might go out of your way to act differently, even at
an unconscious level, to try and defy that stereotype.
I could be reaching here but I think there’s something
here that is basic to contemporary human nature. So although I don’t
think there’s anything inherently better or worse about an atheist
brain or heart than a Christian one, I do expect that atheists may
work a little harder to convince the rest of the culture around them
that they’re decent, loving, caring people regardless of whether they
believe in god.
Is this a case for atheism? An indictment of
Christianity? Not really either, I think. If I’m right, it tells us
more about the power of cultural norms, the potential negative (but
relatively invisible) effects of majority consciousness and the
responsibility of those with the privilege of being in the majority to
go out of their way to act against the negative effects of such
privilege.
All I know is that when someone tells me I defy many
of the common expectations they have of Christians, I take that as a
compliment. I wish it wasn’t the case but it is clear from the empty
seats in many of our churches that we have done an awful lot of this
to ourselves.