The Religious Foundation of Groundhog Day

Groundhogs and their connection with ChristianityWe’re all familiar with the major astronomical milestones in the year—the summer and winter solstices, when our hemisphere is tipped maximally toward or away from the sun, and the spring and fall equinoxes, when each day worldwide has roughly 12 hours of sunlight and 12 of darkness. These dates separate the seasons—the spring equinox marks the beginning of spring, and so on. They are to the calendar what north, south, east, and west are to the compass.
In the same way that the angles between the four cardinal compass points are divided by four ordinal points (northeast, southeast, and so on), the seasons defined by the four astronomical dates are divided by four cross-quarter days. These were Gaelic festivals in medieval times. They are Imbolc (February 2), Beltane (May 1), Lughnasadh (August 1), and Samhain (October 31). Imbolc (pronounced i-molk’) lines up with our Groundhog Day.
Most of us are familiar with the idea that on Halloween (All Hallows’ Eve, or Gaelic Samhain), spirits from the next world could enter ours, which is why ghosts and the dead are associated with Halloween. In Gaelic mythology, the veil between our world and the next became thinner not only on Samhain but for each of the cross-quarter days. These days provided opportunities for divining the future using information from beyond.
In the same way that Christmas subsumed pagan holidays on the winter solstice like Saturnalia and Yule, the Christian holiday of Candlemas subsumed Imbolc (February 2). Candlemas celebrates the presentation of Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem 40 days after his birth.
The Celtic goddess Brigid (or Brigit) was associated with Imbolc, but she too was subsumed into Christianity as Saint Brigid.
Both pagans and the Christians who followed them observed nature on Imbolc/Candlemas to glean clues to how much longer winter would last. Would it go the full six-and-a-half weeks until the spring equinox or would it be a more gentle winter?
German immigrants to America had used hedgehogs to help predict the weather. If it was sunny and the hedgehog could see its shadow, winter would go the distance. But if it was cloudy, winter would be shorter. With no hedgehogs in America, they switched to groundhogs. (The two animals are not closely related, but their habitats are similar.)
This Imbolc, whether you follow Punxsutawney Phil (the center of the biggest Groundhog Day celebration in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania) or some lesser-known groundhog prognosticator, keep in mind the spiritual origins of the tradition.

That’s where the truth lies, right down here in the gut.
Do you know you have more nerve endings in your gut
than you have in your head?
You can look it up.
I know some of you are going to say,
“I did look it up, and that’s not true.”
That’s because you looked it up in a book.
Next time, look it up in your gut.
I did. My gut tells me that’s how our nervous system works.

— Stephen Colbert

(This is a modified version of a post originally posted 2/1/12)
Photo credit: wvholst

Top Religion Story of 2012

Are Christians more generous than atheists?Bill Donohue is president of the Catholic League. I’ve responded before to his hatred of same-sex marriage and his annoyance at the consequences of living with a secular Constitution.
But today Bill is all smiles. With his “Top Religion Story of 2012” he gloats that a new survey (“How America Gives” by the Chronicle of Philanthropy) shows religious Americans to be more generous than their nonreligious neighbors.

[The survey’s] central finding was that the more religious a city or state is, the more charitable it is; conversely, the more secular an area is, the more miserly the people are.

Those good-for-nothing “Nones” (people who check “None of the Above” on the religion survey) and liberals get a well-deserved finger-wagging from Donohue.

[The survey] suggests that the rise of the “nones”—those who have no religious affiliation—are a social liability for the nation. It also shows that those who live in the most liberal areas of the nation are precisely the ones who do the least to combat poverty. They talk a good game—liberals are always screaming about the horrors of poverty—but in the end they find it difficult to open their wallets.
There is little doubt that the “nones” and liberals (there is a lot of overlap) are living off the social capital of the most religious persons in the nation. Perhaps there is some way this can be reflected in the tax code.

Using red/blue distinctions according to how states voted in the 2008 McCain/Obama presidential election, the study says:

Red states are more generous than blue states. The eight states where residents gave the highest share of income to charity went for John McCain in 2008. The seven-lowest ranking states supported Barack Obama.

The Other Side of the Story
But read a little more into the survey, and things look different.

The parts of the country that tend to be more religious are also more generous. … But the generosity ranking changes when religion is taken out of the picture.

Drop religious donations, and the Bible belt drops from the most generous part of the country to the least. This is probably not the point that Donohue meant to make.
But why discard donations to religious organizations? Because, though they’re nonprofits, religious organizations’ charity work (feeding or housing the needy, for example) is negligible. Running the typical church takes most of its income, compared to, say, the comparatively minor 9% overhead for Save the Children or 8% for the American Red Cross. We have only guesses for how much charitable work churches and ministries do since, unlike other nonprofits, their financial records are secret. Some educated guesses place their charity at only 2% of revenue.
(I’ve written more about why churches are more like country clubs than charities and about the embarrassment that churches’ closed-book policy causes them.)
In rough numbers, Americans donate $300 billion per year to nonprofits, and churches get one third of that. With churches passing through as little as a few billion dollars (again, we can only guess) to charities, that is little compared to the $200 billion that Americans give to good-works organizations directly.
The Positive View of the Christian’s Position
Let me try to see things from the Christian’s standpoint. They take pride in the fact that their church donations help the needy. (Ignore for now what fraction passes through.) From their standpoint, they see their money funding church-sponsored soup kitchens or low-income housing. Give credit where it’s due—it’s great that churches pitch in to help. But what about poorer communities where the churches can’t help as much? And what about those atheists who aren’t contributing to churches’ projects—wouldn’t it be nice if they pitched in?
Karl Marx touched on this question of how society should support its needy with his observation that religion is the “opium of the masses.” He wasn’t saying that religion dulls the senses; rather, he meant that it was like medicine—a mechanism for coping with a broken society.
Churches can do good work, but that work is necessary only because society is broken. What if society fixed its own problems rather than leaning on churches (and charity) to plug the leaks?
Donohue said that liberals “talk a good game—[they] are always screaming about the horrors of poverty—but in the end they find it difficult to open their wallets.” We’ve seen that blue regions of the country are actually more generous in individual charity. More to his point, liberals are often eager to see society as a whole contribute more to helping society’s needy. Churches shouldn’t have to step in to fix society’s problems. Society already helps its needy in ways that eclipse the few billion dollars that churches give to charity. $725 billion of our money goes to individuals each year through Social Security and $835 through Medicare and Medicaid. Marx wasn’t right about much, but he was right about this—let’s take his cue, see churches’ good works as noble symptoms of society’s failings, and improve the system.
Another Try at 2012’s Top Story
Donohue may like surveys, but the one he picked seems to have blown up in his face. He does ask a good question, though: what was the top religion story of the year?

  • How about polls showing the rapid rise in the population of Nones (“None of the above”) that make that the world’s third largest “religion”?
  • Maybe last spring’s Reason Rally of over 20,000 freethinkers on the National Mall, the biggest secular gathering in world history by a factor of ten.
  • Or the recent drop in Americans who consider themselves religious, from 73% to 60% in the last eight years.
  • Or the strong public support for gay marriage, both in polls (now supported by more than 50% of the public) and in November’s election (for the first time, voters enabled gay marriage in three states, after 32 straight losses in prior elections).
  • Or a Gallup poll showing Americans’ confidence in religion at an all-time low.
  • Or the black eye the Catholic Church continues to show because of its handling of the priest pedophilia scandals.
  • Or maybe studies showing that divorce rates for evangelicals and fundamentalists are the highest in the country, people want less religious talk by politicians, teen mothers come disproportionately from red states, and red states are net takers of federal money and blue states are net givers.

There are lots of interesting stories out there, and these are admittedly just ones that caught my eye. But Donohue’s selection not only didn’t say what he hoped it would say, it was a deck-chairs-on-the-Titanic kind of story. Perhaps the shifts in American religion are more substantial than what he wants to acknowledge.

Ah! what a divine religion might be found out
if charity were really made the principle of it instead of faith.
— Percy Shelley

Photo credit: Mike Licht

Where is the Islamic Renaissance?

In the late 1500s, Japan had more guns than any European country, but that ended as Japan entered a self-imposed isolation that lasted over two centuries. This peaceful Tokugawa period was the time of the shoguns and samurai.
That changed in 1853 when U.S. Commodore Matthew Perry appeared in Tokyo Bay with his black ships and demanded that Japan open up as an international trading partner. Realizing that trade was preferred to colonization, Japan signed treaties with many Western powers. By 1868, the emperor became more than a figurehead with the Meiji restoration. Japan began an aggressive period of industrialization, and this former insular country defeated Russia in the Russo-Japanese War in 1905. It had become a world power.
From shunning outside influences to mastering them in 50 years—pretty impressive.
Let’s compare that Japan with another region of the world: the Muslim world of the Middle East and North Africa (I’ll refer to this region as MENA). Japan showed that a country can change a lot in 50 years if it is dedicated, and we’ve seen a lot of change in MENA. The Middle East became the world’s largest oil producing region 50 years ago and now receives about $800 billion per year from its oil. So how has MENA used its 50 years?
We can evaluate countries on governance and democracy using Country Indicators for Foreign Policy data, which considers six criteria: democratic participation, government and economic efficiency, accountability, human rights, political stability, and rule of law.
The MENA countries don’t fare well. Half are in the worst 25%, including most of the largest ones: Iraq, Iran, Algeria, Syria, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt. The Muslim world is grossly underrepresented in science Nobel Prizes, and it is not a source of innovation today.
With the enormous windfall of outside technology and cash, MENA could’ve done so much more. And the incredible thing is, they did. With the support of Islam, this region of the world was a center of civilization during the Islamic Golden Age, 500 years that ended with the fall of Baghdad to the Mongols in 1258.
While Europe stumbled through the Middle Ages, the Muslim world of the Middle East and North Africa built libraries and great buildings, preserved the works of Aristotle and other Greek scholars, and developed trigonometry, algebra, and astronomy. Our numbering system (zero, positional notation, Arabic numerals) was invented in India but introduced into Europe by North African Arabs a thousand years ago. Over 200 stars have Arabic names (Betelgeuse, Rigel, Vega, Andromeda), and some of our scientific words and ideas came from Arabic (algorithm, algebra, azimuth, alchemy).
A thousand years ago, the libraries of Moorish Spain had close to a million manuscripts, and the translation of Greek works, preserved in Muslim Spain, helped fuel the European Renaissance.
Historians can tell us why MENA’s recent history played out as it did. But how plausible were other paths? Is it naïve to wonder if history could have played out other ways with a benign or encouraging flavor of Islam that would’ve allowed a Renaissance in the Islamic world? Will the Arab Spring be seen as a turning point?
One objection to this hope points out that that the Koran has a lot of crazy stuff in it, but so does the Bible. Christians have been able to put that behind them. Whether Christians are consistent or not isn’t the point here—they don’t see in the Old Testament justification for things that modern people simply don’t accept.
If Christian Europe could go through a Renaissance, the Muslim world can too, especially since they’ve done it once before.

The ink of a scholar is more holy
than the blood of a martyr
— attributed to Mohammed

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Word of the Day: Burqa, Niqab, Hijab

A novel that tackles Christian apologeticsHijab is the Muslim dress code for women. It is typically interpreted to permit only the hands and face to be visible in public. It also refers to the headscarf that covers the head but not the face.
The niqab is a cloth that covers the face. It can reveal the eyes or have a mesh or veil that covers the eyes. Seeing through the veil is reportedly no more difficult than seeing through sunglasses.
The burqa is a loose-fitting outer garment that covers the body and includes both the niqab face covering and hijab head covering. The hands and face are often treated together, with customs saying either that they may both be visible or must both be covered. In the latter case, women often wear gloves.
The Arab world has many local customs, of course, and there are many variations. For example, the chador is an Iranian cloak without fasteners that is held closed in front.
Demands on men are minimal by comparison, often interpreted to require covering the knees and avoiding jewelry.
France banned “ostentatious religious symbols” like the hijab from public schools in 2004. Nicolas Sarkozy (then a French minister) justified it this way: “When I enter a mosque, I remove my shoes. When a Muslim girl enters school, she must remove her veil.” Turkey also prohibits the hijab in schools and universities. The French law was extended in 2010 to ban face covering in public, including the niqab.
A Muslim-American woman is the second-best saber fencer in the U.S. and is hoping to represent the U.S. in the 2012 Olympics, even though it will fall in Ramadan, the month when she will be prohibited from eating or drinking during the day. She conforms to hijab and was attracted to the sport because the uniform (inadvertently) also conforms to hijab.
From a Western standpoint, it’s easy to see the hijab requirement as oppressive, though from the inside it can be seen as a matter of cultural identity. A cultural demand doesn’t always vanish when that demand is lifted. During the Qing dynasty (1644–1912), Manchu rulers imposed queues (long ponytail with an otherwise shaved head) on Chinese men. Not wearing one was considered disloyal and a capital crime, but when the dynasty ended, many men still wore the queue as a custom.
A fascinating example of unexpected consequences came when wearing the veil became mandatory in Iran after the 1979 revolution. Protest came from an unexpected quarter—women who had been wearing the veil. Before, they could publicly say, “God is great” by wearing the veil in public. After, they were simply obeying the law.
Imagine a Christian theocracy in the West that made wearing crosses mandatory. The same thing would happen to the cross as happened to the Iranian veil—the cross would no longer be a religious statement but a political one.
I wonder if there’s something of this kind of unexpected consequence with Christian morality. Do Christians do good things just because they’re the right thing to do? That is, do they do good things for the same reasons that atheists do them? Or do they do them because God is watching? Whether God is tallying up good and bad actions that will confront the Christian in heaven or the Christian is simply trying to put a smile on God’s face, I wonder if the Christian moral motivation is shallower than that of the atheist.
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Using the Monty Hall Problem to Undercut Christianity

What is Christianity?I first came across the Monty Hall Problem 20 years ago in Parade magazine:

Suppose you’re on a game show, and you’re given the choice of three doors: Behind one door is a car; behind the others, goats.  You pick a door, say No. 1, and the host, who knows what’s behind the doors, opens another door, say No. 3, which has a goat.  He then says to you, “Do you want to pick door No. 2?”
Is it to your advantage to switch your choice?

Most people think that it doesn’t matter and that there’s no benefit to switching.  They’re wrong, but more on that in a moment.
Humans have a hard time with probability problems like this one.  You’d think that we’d be fairly comfortable with basic probability, but apparently not.
Here’s another popular probability problem: how many people must you have in a group before it becomes more likely than not that any two of them have the same birthday?
The surprising answer is 23.  In other words, imagine two football teams on the field (11 per team) and then throw in a referee, and it’s more than likely that you’ll find a shared birthday.  If your mind balks at this, test it at your next large gathering.
Now, back to the Monty Hall Problem.  A good way to understand problems like this is to push them to an extreme.  Imagine, for example, that there are not three doors but 300 doors.  There’s still just one good prize, with the rest being goats (the bad prize).
So you pick a door—say number #274.  There’s a 1/300 chance you’re right.  This needs to be emphasized: you’re almost certainly wrong.  Then the game show host opens 298 of the remaining doors: 1, 2, 3, and so on.  He skips door #59 and your door, #274.  Every open door shows a goat.
Now: should you switch?  Of course you should—your initial pick is still almost surely wrong.  The probabilities are 1/300 for #274 and 299/300 for #59.
Another way to look at the problem: do you want to stick with your initial door or do you want all the other doors?  Switching is simply choosing all the other doors, because (thanks to the open doors) you know the only door within that set that could be the winner.
One lesson from this is that our innate understanding of probability is poor, and a corollary is that there’s a big difference between confidence and accuracy.  That is, just because one’s confidence in a belief is high doesn’t mean that the belief is accurate.  This little puzzle does a great job of illustrating this.
Perhaps you’ve already anticipated the connection with choosing a religion.  Let’s imagine you’ve picked your religion—religion #274, let’s say.  For most people, their adoption of a religion is like picking a door in this game show.  In the game show, you don’t weigh evidence before selecting your door; you pick it randomly.  And most people adopt the dominant religion of their upbringing.  As with the game show, the religion in which you grew up is also assigned to you at random.
Now imagine an analogous game, the Game of Religion, with Truth as host.  Out of 300 doors (behind each of which is a religion), the believer picks door #274.  Truth flings open door after door and we see nothing but goats.  Hinduism, Sikhism, Jainism, Mormonism—all goats.  As you suspected, they’re just amalgams of legend, myth, tradition, and wishful thinking.
Few of us seriously consider or even understand the religions Winti, Candomblé, Mandaeism, or the ancient religions of Central America, for example.  Luckily for the believer, Truth gets around to those doors too and opens them to reveal goats.
Here’s where the analogy between the two games fails.  First, Truth opens all the other doors.  Only the believer’s pick, door #274, is still closed.  Second, there was never a guarantee that any door contained a true religion!  Since the believer likely came to his beliefs randomly, why imagine that his choice is any more likely than the others to hold anything of value?
Every believer plays the Game of Religion, and every believer believes that his religion is the one true religion, with goats behind all the hundreds of other doors.  But maybe there’s a goat behind every door.  And given that the lesson from the 300-door Monty Hall game is that the door you randomly picked at first is almost certainly wrong, why imagine that yours is the only religion that’s not mythology?

Map of the History of Religion

I made an interesting discovery a few years ago. Not an especially unique discovery, I’ll admit, and rather obvious in hindsight. But here goes.
The Eastern Mediterranean spawned three great religions: Judaism, then Christianity, and then Islam. With Christianity dominant in the US, it’s easy to focus only on this region. But northern India also spawned three great religions: Hinduism (before the tenth century BCE), Jainism (c. ninth century BCE), and Buddhism (c. sixth century BCE).
This short animation shows the spread of these great religions and gives a little perspective. The Judeo-Christian religions have obviously had an enormous impact on history, but they’re not the only ones.
[vodpod id=ExternalVideo.1002732&w=425&h=350&fv=]