I totally missed writing all of December.... Must've been busy or something. :-)
Well, I've discovered a new (to me) blog. This post is an awesome analysis of religion from a non-religious point of view. In spite of itself, it arrives at certain very religious conclusions....
"To me, complete rational logic tells me to be atheist about all of the Earth’s religions and utterly agnostic about the nature of our existence or the possible existence of a higher being."
Which dovetails nicely with this:
"Never confuse religion with God. I'm pointing at the moon, and you're staring at my finger."
Which I found as a response to this.
Happy New Year!!!
Showing posts with label secular humanism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label secular humanism. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Saturday, January 19, 2013
What is a baby?
Why are so many children waiting year after year in foster care, orphanages and institutions around the world? Why, when so many childless couples wait year after year, too, spending tens of thousands of dollars on infertility treatments, surrogacy arrangements, and infant adoptions?
Of course, the answer is that parents want, first of all, a child who is like them, and of them. Genetically related. THEIR KID. If not, let it be an infant, so the experience will at least approximate a biological child arriving. THEIR EXPERIENCE. All about THEM.
What about the kid? Does a child come into the world for the benefit of the parents, or are the parents there for the benefit of the child? A secular worldview tries to collapse these perspectives onto each other: Having the child is the parents' choice, but having made the choice, the parents have the responsibility to provide the child's needs to maturity. This worldview allows for great license for amateur eugenics, as parents select bio-parents from sperm-banks or surrogacy registries, or selectively abort fetuses of the wrong gender, or with inconvenient abnormalities. How does one "flip the switch" from thinking of the child as a product to be procured to specifications, to accepting the child for who he/she is, with all the vicissitudes of a normal childhood and adolescence?
A religious worldview can sometimes bypass this, by recognizing all children as "gifts" from G*d. We do not pick and choose our gifts. We do not return a gift that has been specially ordered and personalized for us. We do not discard gifts that have been given to us by those whom we love and esteem. If such a gift is bestowed upon us and requires care and nurturing, we will do all in our power to prove ourselves worthy of it.
In the second blessing after the Shema, we read,
I am currently watching two adoption stories unfold, featuring older children with Down syndrome and severe institutionalized effects. Both families are large families which have adopted before. Both families see these children, long rejected by conventional adopters, as precious gifts every bit as uniquely bestowed upon them as the children they have conceived and birthed themselves.
Here are the Mussers, who have just completed their first trip to adopt 15-year-old Tommy, who is scheduled to come home in April/May. They have nine biological children, ranging in age from 2 to 18. Their youngest was born with Down syndrome. Just over a year ago they rescued their daughter Katie from the Pleven orphanage. At almost 10 years old, she weighed barely 10 lbs. The story of her recovery and blossoming in the past year is nothing short of miraculous.
Here are the Salems, who are presently in the final stages of bringing home 14-year-old Hasya and 9-year-old Kael, both of whom have Down syndrome. Like Katie and Tommy, these children have suffered horribly, not because of their disabilities per se, but because of how their disabilities are seen by a society that views children as valuable only if they meet its specifications. Both are tiny for their ages, and severely delayed. Hasya, like Katie before her, has not been permitted to grow beyond the size of a young infant. She is currently struggling to gain nutrition without succumbing to refeeding syndrome. Kael, who was in a different institution, is doing much better, though he is still only the size of an average 3-year-old.
These and other families are taking on the children whom they recognize as "the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself", who welcome the children to come through them though they are not of them.
What is a baby? A baby is a human being coming to the world, and meeting his/her family for the first time. In reading various people's adoption stories, I am repeatedly struck by the idea that a child coming into a family - at whatever age - is in many ways like a newborn. They may or may not be walking, talking, or toileting yet, but emotionally they are at square one. Many families report very good results by "regressing" their new child, so that s/he can cover the lost emotional ground. Katie, a year later, is in many ways comparable to a one-year-old. In some ways she is way ahead of a one-year-old! She has grown to the size of a 3 or 4-year-old, she is learning to toilet herself, and so on.
Russia is not likely to approve any new adoptions at this point, although it is hoped that the proposed amendment to make an exception for special needs will be passed speedily. However, many older children are waiting in Ukraine, Bulgaria, China, and many other countries, in conditions just as deplorable as Pleven. U.S. foster care provides for over 100,000 children each year, most of whom have no disability except their age, in conditions which are incomparably better. These children go to school, receive full medical care, and enjoy a semblance of family life. Yet emotionally, they need parents who will baby them, make up the lost time, and allow them to reach their true potential.
Why, then, do they wait? These gifts, these babies frozen in time? A newborn baby is no less a bundle of needs than a child scarred by loss and neglect.
One of the prayers of Yom Kippur calls upon us to see ourselves as raw material in G*d's hands, to be fashioned into a work of art through the process of repentance and good deeds. Khalil Gibran once again echoes Jewish liturgy when he writes:
Of course, the answer is that parents want, first of all, a child who is like them, and of them. Genetically related. THEIR KID. If not, let it be an infant, so the experience will at least approximate a biological child arriving. THEIR EXPERIENCE. All about THEM.
What about the kid? Does a child come into the world for the benefit of the parents, or are the parents there for the benefit of the child? A secular worldview tries to collapse these perspectives onto each other: Having the child is the parents' choice, but having made the choice, the parents have the responsibility to provide the child's needs to maturity. This worldview allows for great license for amateur eugenics, as parents select bio-parents from sperm-banks or surrogacy registries, or selectively abort fetuses of the wrong gender, or with inconvenient abnormalities. How does one "flip the switch" from thinking of the child as a product to be procured to specifications, to accepting the child for who he/she is, with all the vicissitudes of a normal childhood and adolescence?
A religious worldview can sometimes bypass this, by recognizing all children as "gifts" from G*d. We do not pick and choose our gifts. We do not return a gift that has been specially ordered and personalized for us. We do not discard gifts that have been given to us by those whom we love and esteem. If such a gift is bestowed upon us and requires care and nurturing, we will do all in our power to prove ourselves worthy of it.
In the second blessing after the Shema, we read,
And you shall inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates - so that your days and the days of your children may be prolonged on the land which the L-rd swore to your fathers to give to them for as long as the heavens are above the earth.I love that the inheritance is passed from our fathers to our children. We have the responsibility to maintain for our children that which we might be tempted to dispose of ourselves. This is echoed in Khalil Gibran's famous poem:
Your children are not your children.What, then, of all those waiting children? The older children, the sibling groups, the children with physical and developmental disabilities, with delays, with chronic medical conditions? Whose gifts are they?
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
I am currently watching two adoption stories unfold, featuring older children with Down syndrome and severe institutionalized effects. Both families are large families which have adopted before. Both families see these children, long rejected by conventional adopters, as precious gifts every bit as uniquely bestowed upon them as the children they have conceived and birthed themselves.
Here are the Mussers, who have just completed their first trip to adopt 15-year-old Tommy, who is scheduled to come home in April/May. They have nine biological children, ranging in age from 2 to 18. Their youngest was born with Down syndrome. Just over a year ago they rescued their daughter Katie from the Pleven orphanage. At almost 10 years old, she weighed barely 10 lbs. The story of her recovery and blossoming in the past year is nothing short of miraculous.
Here are the Salems, who are presently in the final stages of bringing home 14-year-old Hasya and 9-year-old Kael, both of whom have Down syndrome. Like Katie and Tommy, these children have suffered horribly, not because of their disabilities per se, but because of how their disabilities are seen by a society that views children as valuable only if they meet its specifications. Both are tiny for their ages, and severely delayed. Hasya, like Katie before her, has not been permitted to grow beyond the size of a young infant. She is currently struggling to gain nutrition without succumbing to refeeding syndrome. Kael, who was in a different institution, is doing much better, though he is still only the size of an average 3-year-old.
These and other families are taking on the children whom they recognize as "the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself", who welcome the children to come through them though they are not of them.
What is a baby? A baby is a human being coming to the world, and meeting his/her family for the first time. In reading various people's adoption stories, I am repeatedly struck by the idea that a child coming into a family - at whatever age - is in many ways like a newborn. They may or may not be walking, talking, or toileting yet, but emotionally they are at square one. Many families report very good results by "regressing" their new child, so that s/he can cover the lost emotional ground. Katie, a year later, is in many ways comparable to a one-year-old. In some ways she is way ahead of a one-year-old! She has grown to the size of a 3 or 4-year-old, she is learning to toilet herself, and so on.
Russia is not likely to approve any new adoptions at this point, although it is hoped that the proposed amendment to make an exception for special needs will be passed speedily. However, many older children are waiting in Ukraine, Bulgaria, China, and many other countries, in conditions just as deplorable as Pleven. U.S. foster care provides for over 100,000 children each year, most of whom have no disability except their age, in conditions which are incomparably better. These children go to school, receive full medical care, and enjoy a semblance of family life. Yet emotionally, they need parents who will baby them, make up the lost time, and allow them to reach their true potential.
Why, then, do they wait? These gifts, these babies frozen in time? A newborn baby is no less a bundle of needs than a child scarred by loss and neglect.
One of the prayers of Yom Kippur calls upon us to see ourselves as raw material in G*d's hands, to be fashioned into a work of art through the process of repentance and good deeds. Khalil Gibran once again echoes Jewish liturgy when he writes:
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Friday, October 12, 2012
31 for 21: A different SN adoption story
Do you think that only Fundamentalist Christians adopt one special needs child after another, beyond their means, and without carefully planning each new addition's future? It is easy to shake your head and say, Oh, they are just religious nutcases. Anyway, it can't be good for that many special needs children to live in one home, they can't possibly get all the attention they need. Etc. etc.
Meet Mama Kong.
She is secular, poor, and has a disability herself (she is hunchbacked).
She is 63 years old.
She and her husband have adopted over 30 children, all with special needs, ranging from cleft lip/palate to severe cerebral palsy.
They live in rural China, in a small rundown shack in a village with no running water. The children are all abandoned, the victims of China's "one child rule" and extreme pollution which results in one of the highest rates of birth defects in the world.
In addition to the intrinsic challenges of managing the health, emotional and educational needs of all these children, Mama Kong regularly has to stand up to the bureaucracy of the Communist Party itself.
Wow. Just wow.
Speak truth to power much?
(Ooops, forgot to Hat Tip Leah!)
Meet Mama Kong.
She is secular, poor, and has a disability herself (she is hunchbacked).
She is 63 years old.
She and her husband have adopted over 30 children, all with special needs, ranging from cleft lip/palate to severe cerebral palsy.
They live in rural China, in a small rundown shack in a village with no running water. The children are all abandoned, the victims of China's "one child rule" and extreme pollution which results in one of the highest rates of birth defects in the world.
In addition to the intrinsic challenges of managing the health, emotional and educational needs of all these children, Mama Kong regularly has to stand up to the bureaucracy of the Communist Party itself.
Wow. Just wow.
Speak truth to power much?
(Ooops, forgot to Hat Tip Leah!)
Friday, September 7, 2012
What's in it for me?
I have been talking a lot about the moral basis for special-needs adoption and how it may be grounded in a non-religious ethical context. However, one of the major hurdles for both religious and secular potential adopters is the notion that this is fundamentally an "extreme", "dramatic", "altruistic" project. A religious context can create a framework where people are motivated to take on such things for a higher purpose. Secular contexts can do so, as well, though generally to a lesser extent. However, both religious and secular people are motivated, more than anything else, by the selfish motive -- "What's in it for me?"
When I first found out about the conditions of special-needs orphans in developing countries, and read the stories of families which adopted them, I had many of these same reactions. "Wow," I thought. "These people are really amazing and self-sacrificing!" Then I kept reading, however, and a new pattern emerged. Very consistently, the parents reported great joy in the miraculous progress their adopted children were having, and in the beauty that the children were, in spite of their disabilities.
These, however, were parents. They were highly invested in this enterprise, so surely they were biased. The clincher came when I started reading reports by siblings of the adoptees. After all, siblings are not the ones who made these decisions, but they live with the outcome. What do they have to say about it all?
This 12-year-old girl has 2 little brothers.
Last year, her parents adopted 2 more little boys, both with Down syndrome. Right now they are adopting a third boy with Down syndrome from the same orphanage! Read her blog to see how she feels about adoption.
Here is another 12-year-old sister of an adoptee with Down syndrome,
answering readers' questions on her mother's blog.
Here are some more comments from the same family, including the 2 oldest brothers, aged 16 and 18.
And another family with 3 typical biological children, and 4 adopted children with special needs, 2 with Down syndrome.
Well, maybe these are just self-selecting anecdotes, right? The people with negative experiences wouldn't post about it, right? I actually googled on-line quite extensively looking for stories of siblings who wished their parents never had/adopted their sibling with special needs. I couldn't find any! Some stories of occasional frustration or sibling rivalry -- like any other siblings. Many stories of parents worrying about the siblings' reactions! But nothing that stood out as actual regret because of the sibling's special needs.
Here is a cool blogger with 2 biological children with special needs, a girl with cerebral palsy and a boy with Down syndrome. She cites this study done by physicians at Children's Hospital Boston on the impact of children with Down syndrome on their typical siblings.
How anyone can read these stories -- and many, many others like them -- and not think "I want this for MY family, too!" is beyond me, no matter what your religious beliefs.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
More on Secular Humanism
A thoughtful reader offered the following comments:
==========================
I think that most of my friends who are secular / atheist are committed to creating a world in which children like these are protected and cared for, by supporting economic development, fair practices, working to end poverty.
I admit that this work is more broad than taking the dramatic action of personally adopting a severely disabled child. That does not mean that their contribution to society is less valuable.
Working as a doctor who provides primary care in a suburb is also less dramatic than working as a doctor in a war zone. But suburban children need doctors too. Both are moral choices. We cannot know the ultimate reward for either choice.
I absolutely agree! That is why I think that that kind of work must be a part of the effort.
Religion, like any ideology, is a powerful force. It can be used for good or for evil. It can motivate people to take great moral action or it can encourage people to be small, selfish, petty and judgmental. Many people use religion in both ways simultaneously -- great generosity towards others like them and great hatred of those who differ, even slightly.
I think this is true about human nature in general. Yes, religion is a tool, like fire, or a knife, which can be used to create or to destroy. Obviously, in trying to apply this tool to the purpose at hand, I am not condoning the abuse of the tool. Also, the purpose of this thread is to figure out alternative strategies for those who are not comfortable wielding this particular tool.
In light of those extremes, is there really something wrong with a rational philosophy of "enjoy life, be kind to others, do no harm"? Should we prefer great good and great evil or a more balanced approach?
Sorry, but I think that this is a false dichotomy. Of course there is nothing wrong with generic benevolence. At the same time, I think that it is worthwhile to encourage ourselves and others to go beyond that to whatever extent is appropriate. I don't believe that this is a zero-sum proposition -- that any good action is inevitably met with an equal and opposite (bad) action.
As Jews, we are *not* commanded to take extreme actions to support others. Give first to your own family, then to your community, then to your city, then to the world. Those who exceed this are noteworthy and admirable, but it is not the standard by which everyone is judged.
An ideal Jewish society, IMHO, is not one in which every individual person adopts one of these children. It is one in which every single one of these children receives compassionate, loving, appropriate care in their family of origin.
True. Where I think that the present initiative is appropriate is that the notion of "our community" has become in many ways global. The world is far more interconnected than it once was. We are in fact challenged to address needs that would not have made it on the radar in Biblical times.
An ideal society does not have superhuman men and women engaged in amazing feats of compassion.
Why not? They need not be the majority, but I think that we absolutely do need "everyday heroes" that inspire us all to be our best selves.
It is one in which public institutions and policies are guided by compassion such that every family with such a child receives the support they need.
Absolutely! Again, I think that social action in-country is a very important component of the work. However, I think that adoption serves 2 purposes in this. First, it rescues the kids that are in dire straits right now, before waiting for the social change to take place. Second, by demonstrating to society that those children are in fact wanted and valued, these adoptions can catalyze the change in attitudes that we want to bring about.
While you may find few atheists / secularists adopting special needs children, you will find many atheists looking for ways to make people's lives better through science, engineering or public policy. Engineers design wheelchairs and scientists discover new drugs and treatments. One change to a state regulation could mean the difference between a child whose parents can keep them at home and a child who is institutionalized.
These contributions are significant. They are moral actions to help better our world. Do not dismiss them because you prefer dramatic action at the individual level. Both kinds of action are needed to create tikkun olam.
I agree completely!
==========================
I think that most of my friends who are secular / atheist are committed to creating a world in which children like these are protected and cared for, by supporting economic development, fair practices, working to end poverty.
I admit that this work is more broad than taking the dramatic action of personally adopting a severely disabled child. That does not mean that their contribution to society is less valuable.
Working as a doctor who provides primary care in a suburb is also less dramatic than working as a doctor in a war zone. But suburban children need doctors too. Both are moral choices. We cannot know the ultimate reward for either choice.
I absolutely agree! That is why I think that that kind of work must be a part of the effort.
Religion, like any ideology, is a powerful force. It can be used for good or for evil. It can motivate people to take great moral action or it can encourage people to be small, selfish, petty and judgmental. Many people use religion in both ways simultaneously -- great generosity towards others like them and great hatred of those who differ, even slightly.
I think this is true about human nature in general. Yes, religion is a tool, like fire, or a knife, which can be used to create or to destroy. Obviously, in trying to apply this tool to the purpose at hand, I am not condoning the abuse of the tool. Also, the purpose of this thread is to figure out alternative strategies for those who are not comfortable wielding this particular tool.
In light of those extremes, is there really something wrong with a rational philosophy of "enjoy life, be kind to others, do no harm"? Should we prefer great good and great evil or a more balanced approach?
Sorry, but I think that this is a false dichotomy. Of course there is nothing wrong with generic benevolence. At the same time, I think that it is worthwhile to encourage ourselves and others to go beyond that to whatever extent is appropriate. I don't believe that this is a zero-sum proposition -- that any good action is inevitably met with an equal and opposite (bad) action.
As Jews, we are *not* commanded to take extreme actions to support others. Give first to your own family, then to your community, then to your city, then to the world. Those who exceed this are noteworthy and admirable, but it is not the standard by which everyone is judged.
An ideal Jewish society, IMHO, is not one in which every individual person adopts one of these children. It is one in which every single one of these children receives compassionate, loving, appropriate care in their family of origin.
True. Where I think that the present initiative is appropriate is that the notion of "our community" has become in many ways global. The world is far more interconnected than it once was. We are in fact challenged to address needs that would not have made it on the radar in Biblical times.
An ideal society does not have superhuman men and women engaged in amazing feats of compassion.
Why not? They need not be the majority, but I think that we absolutely do need "everyday heroes" that inspire us all to be our best selves.
It is one in which public institutions and policies are guided by compassion such that every family with such a child receives the support they need.
Absolutely! Again, I think that social action in-country is a very important component of the work. However, I think that adoption serves 2 purposes in this. First, it rescues the kids that are in dire straits right now, before waiting for the social change to take place. Second, by demonstrating to society that those children are in fact wanted and valued, these adoptions can catalyze the change in attitudes that we want to bring about.
While you may find few atheists / secularists adopting special needs children, you will find many atheists looking for ways to make people's lives better through science, engineering or public policy. Engineers design wheelchairs and scientists discover new drugs and treatments. One change to a state regulation could mean the difference between a child whose parents can keep them at home and a child who is institutionalized.
These contributions are significant. They are moral actions to help better our world. Do not dismiss them because you prefer dramatic action at the individual level. Both kinds of action are needed to create tikkun olam.
I agree completely!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Older children - Special Needs edition
Yesterday I wrote about the risk of adopting an older child, not in term of the difficulties of adjusting once they come home, but even before that, when they resist leaving their familiar surroundings and take a chance on the better life being offered to them.
Today I will write about adopting a child who is about to age out, but is not mentally competent to voice an opinion on the matter of his/her adoption. These children would be committed to a mental institution to live out their days if they are not adopted by their 16th birthday.
Jenny and Steven Brown are in the final stages of adopting 16-year-old Sophia, who has Down syndrome and is extremely delayed. She is the size of a pre-schooler, and does not walk independently.
Adeye and Anthony Salem are adopting 15-year-old "Faith", whom they will call Hasya. Adeye is visiting Hasya at Pleven right now. Hasya, who has Down syndrome as well, has been restricted to a crib her whole life, is grossly malnourished, the size of an infant or small toddler. In the last few months, additional care and donated nutrition have improved her condition. There is still so much more to go, though.
And Susanna and Joe Musser are taking a leap of faith for the second time, to adopt 15-year-old "Tommy". Like Hasya, he has lived in a crib his whole life. He does not have Down syndrome, but has other disabilities, and is the size of a small 3-year-old. They did not think they would qualify financially for another adoption at this time, but apparently they can, and their home-study social worker is expediting their process! Susanna was desperately seeking a family for "Tommy", and is so excited to be able to be that family.
If born in the USA, these three could have been in High School together. I could see Sophia as a bubbly cheerleader, Hasya as an artsy type, and Tommy as a video-game-playing drummer in the school band. Instead, they are likely to never graduate kindergarten. After adoption, they will need intensive medical and nutritional care, and long-term physical and speech therapy just to become minimally functional. And then what?
Three children. Totally uncharted territory. How far can a severely disabled, pint-sized adolescent catch up in a loving home? We really don't know! Those of us considering or in process of a special-needs adoption can only look on and marvel at the incredible stand that these families are taking for these children. All three families are deeply religious. Is it possible to take something like this on without faith in a higher power? All three families profess utter inadequacy to deal with the challenges that they are taking on, and their complete reliance on G*d to see them through.
Where would an Atheist get that strength from?
Today I will write about adopting a child who is about to age out, but is not mentally competent to voice an opinion on the matter of his/her adoption. These children would be committed to a mental institution to live out their days if they are not adopted by their 16th birthday.
Jenny and Steven Brown are in the final stages of adopting 16-year-old Sophia, who has Down syndrome and is extremely delayed. She is the size of a pre-schooler, and does not walk independently.
Adeye and Anthony Salem are adopting 15-year-old "Faith", whom they will call Hasya. Adeye is visiting Hasya at Pleven right now. Hasya, who has Down syndrome as well, has been restricted to a crib her whole life, is grossly malnourished, the size of an infant or small toddler. In the last few months, additional care and donated nutrition have improved her condition. There is still so much more to go, though.
And Susanna and Joe Musser are taking a leap of faith for the second time, to adopt 15-year-old "Tommy". Like Hasya, he has lived in a crib his whole life. He does not have Down syndrome, but has other disabilities, and is the size of a small 3-year-old. They did not think they would qualify financially for another adoption at this time, but apparently they can, and their home-study social worker is expediting their process! Susanna was desperately seeking a family for "Tommy", and is so excited to be able to be that family.
If born in the USA, these three could have been in High School together. I could see Sophia as a bubbly cheerleader, Hasya as an artsy type, and Tommy as a video-game-playing drummer in the school band. Instead, they are likely to never graduate kindergarten. After adoption, they will need intensive medical and nutritional care, and long-term physical and speech therapy just to become minimally functional. And then what?
Three children. Totally uncharted territory. How far can a severely disabled, pint-sized adolescent catch up in a loving home? We really don't know! Those of us considering or in process of a special-needs adoption can only look on and marvel at the incredible stand that these families are taking for these children. All three families are deeply religious. Is it possible to take something like this on without faith in a higher power? All three families profess utter inadequacy to deal with the challenges that they are taking on, and their complete reliance on G*d to see them through.
Where would an Atheist get that strength from?
Monday, August 27, 2012
Secular Humanism - Landmark?
My husband just completed the Advanced Course at Landmark Education this weekend. Really empowering stuff! Landmark has a reputation for being "cultish". It is not a cult, but it certainly has some features that make it look like one from the outside. Participants are urged to bring all their friends and families to "guest events" which occur as part of every course, and to invite everyone they know to take the "Landmark Forum" -- the foundation class of their curriculum. The courses are also filled with a unique jargon, which adds to the feeling that graduates of the curriculum are "weird".
But in fact, what makes it more like a religion than any of these outward trappings is the fact that what actually happens in the courses is that participants are pushed to become their best selves, and to go past their comfort zones to accomplish incredible things in their relationships with others and in their communities. I remember before I took the first course that I marveled how both my committed atheist friend and my religious Catholic friend felt that the concepts presented in Landmark complemented their respective worldviews perfectly. This is because while no particular religion is referenced, the concepts map very well onto those in religious texts.
Quite simply, the ideas are:
1. Personal integrity is the basis of everything -- keeping your word in all things great and small.
2. Things happen through relationships -- if it's just inside your head, it has no reality -- you have to share it with others
3. With (1) and (2) in place, there is very little that you can't accomplish. Reach for the sky! Make a real impact on the world!
4. The point of all this is to Live a Life you Love.
These ideas invariably push participants to look outwards from their own lives to accomplish greatness in their relationships and their communities. If they happen to be religious, they quickly find these ideas echoed in their liturgy and scriptures. But if they are not, these ideas still work!
Can this notion be used in this context, as well? That pushing past your comfort zone for the sake of a child's life has the potential of such huge reward that it is worth it? Even without any religious background?
But in fact, what makes it more like a religion than any of these outward trappings is the fact that what actually happens in the courses is that participants are pushed to become their best selves, and to go past their comfort zones to accomplish incredible things in their relationships with others and in their communities. I remember before I took the first course that I marveled how both my committed atheist friend and my religious Catholic friend felt that the concepts presented in Landmark complemented their respective worldviews perfectly. This is because while no particular religion is referenced, the concepts map very well onto those in religious texts.
Quite simply, the ideas are:
1. Personal integrity is the basis of everything -- keeping your word in all things great and small.
2. Things happen through relationships -- if it's just inside your head, it has no reality -- you have to share it with others
3. With (1) and (2) in place, there is very little that you can't accomplish. Reach for the sky! Make a real impact on the world!
4. The point of all this is to Live a Life you Love.
These ideas invariably push participants to look outwards from their own lives to accomplish greatness in their relationships and their communities. If they happen to be religious, they quickly find these ideas echoed in their liturgy and scriptures. But if they are not, these ideas still work!
Can this notion be used in this context, as well? That pushing past your comfort zone for the sake of a child's life has the potential of such huge reward that it is worth it? Even without any religious background?
Friday, August 24, 2012
Secular Humanism - A friend's view
I'm trying. Really.
A dear friend of mine is a committed, principled, moral Atheist. I asked him for his views on special needs adoption, and how it could fit into a non-religious worldview. We had a really good conversation, but I think it ended up raising more questions than he answered.
For example, he immediately asked, "what does religion (faith in G*d) have to do with it?" I explained that there are scriptural and liturgical references to the way we should act in society. I said that I am explicitly looking for non-theistic sources which could substitute.
He thought about organizations such as Unitarian Universalism, as well as "Atheist churches", which seek to provide the non-theistic functions of organized religion without the idea of faith in a supernatural being. They hold regular communal meanings, organize around charitable causes, and create rituals around life cycle events. I think that organizing within such movements is certainly as viable as organizing within synagogues or churches.
At the same time, the question remains of where the "moral imperative" comes from in such a framework. I remember when I had my first child, and I wanted to recreate my childhood memories of celebrating the Jewish Sabbath. These memories were of gathering with family at my grandparents' house, so I approached my in-laws, who lived nearby, about starting this. They thought it was a great idea to have a regular family dinner like that, but objected that Friday evenings were quite busy for them already. "How about Tuesday afternoons instead?" they asked. No, what makes Shabbat special is that we make room in our lives for it, work our lives around the commandment, rather than fit in religion around our everyday lives.
My friend contributes significantly to charity. He donates money to organizations that give it to poor families so that they can start businesses in their communities. He explained that it seemed to him the way to have the biggest impact for the money donated. He clearly cares about making the world a better place. He has his own criteria for choosing how to do this. But, like Shabbat on Tuesdays, it does not demand of him to get out of his comfort zone.
What, then, does it take to "get us out of our comfort zone"? Without religion, where do we find a "moral imperative" to stretch ourselves to make a difference in the world?
A dear friend of mine is a committed, principled, moral Atheist. I asked him for his views on special needs adoption, and how it could fit into a non-religious worldview. We had a really good conversation, but I think it ended up raising more questions than he answered.
For example, he immediately asked, "what does religion (faith in G*d) have to do with it?" I explained that there are scriptural and liturgical references to the way we should act in society. I said that I am explicitly looking for non-theistic sources which could substitute.
He thought about organizations such as Unitarian Universalism, as well as "Atheist churches", which seek to provide the non-theistic functions of organized religion without the idea of faith in a supernatural being. They hold regular communal meanings, organize around charitable causes, and create rituals around life cycle events. I think that organizing within such movements is certainly as viable as organizing within synagogues or churches.
At the same time, the question remains of where the "moral imperative" comes from in such a framework. I remember when I had my first child, and I wanted to recreate my childhood memories of celebrating the Jewish Sabbath. These memories were of gathering with family at my grandparents' house, so I approached my in-laws, who lived nearby, about starting this. They thought it was a great idea to have a regular family dinner like that, but objected that Friday evenings were quite busy for them already. "How about Tuesday afternoons instead?" they asked. No, what makes Shabbat special is that we make room in our lives for it, work our lives around the commandment, rather than fit in religion around our everyday lives.
My friend contributes significantly to charity. He donates money to organizations that give it to poor families so that they can start businesses in their communities. He explained that it seemed to him the way to have the biggest impact for the money donated. He clearly cares about making the world a better place. He has his own criteria for choosing how to do this. But, like Shabbat on Tuesdays, it does not demand of him to get out of his comfort zone.
What, then, does it take to "get us out of our comfort zone"? Without religion, where do we find a "moral imperative" to stretch ourselves to make a difference in the world?
Monday, August 20, 2012
Secular Humanism, Take 2
Let me try again. Perhaps I am approaching this the wrong way. After all, I don't want to convince Secular Humanists and Atheists that there is no reason for them to pursue special needs adoption. I want to convince them that it is a good idea, even without religion.
I suppose I would probably start by showing this video. Or perhaps this one. Accompanied by the statistics, explaining how children born with special needs are generally neglected and malnourished, and their life expectancy is usually in the teens.
I could then link to various stories of transformation when these children, often in dismal condition, are adopted and loved unconditionally by families who are committed to seeing them as beautiful, capable, and full of potential. Yes, most of those families would say "created in G*d's image", but it means the same thing, no..?
Would that be motivating enough? Would that inspire someone to take on the paperwork, the expense, the unknown difficulties of adjusting to life with an adopted child with special needs? Would a family be able to continue seeing this child as "beautiful, capable and full of potential" if the transformation is slow in coming? If the child's health deteriorates, or she dies, would they be able to still continue and rescue other children?
Now, I know that even many "religious" families of all persuasions are held back by considerations such as these. But it seems as though faith can be a pathway to overcoming them. If you are not religious, what would it take to inspire you?
I suppose I would probably start by showing this video. Or perhaps this one. Accompanied by the statistics, explaining how children born with special needs are generally neglected and malnourished, and their life expectancy is usually in the teens.
I could then link to various stories of transformation when these children, often in dismal condition, are adopted and loved unconditionally by families who are committed to seeing them as beautiful, capable, and full of potential. Yes, most of those families would say "created in G*d's image", but it means the same thing, no..?
Would that be motivating enough? Would that inspire someone to take on the paperwork, the expense, the unknown difficulties of adjusting to life with an adopted child with special needs? Would a family be able to continue seeing this child as "beautiful, capable and full of potential" if the transformation is slow in coming? If the child's health deteriorates, or she dies, would they be able to still continue and rescue other children?
Now, I know that even many "religious" families of all persuasions are held back by considerations such as these. But it seems as though faith can be a pathway to overcoming them. If you are not religious, what would it take to inspire you?
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Secular Humanism
I was talking with my dad the other day about my project, and he asked, Why focus on the Jewish perspective in particular? Isn't this issue of a broad human concern, that should cut across all sectarian lines?
Well, I googled "secular humanism adoption", "secular humanism orphan", and so on. Well, surprise, surprise, not a whole lot. I did find a charity that built a children's village in Tanzania for HIV+ orphans. Some on-line discussions about how difficult it is to find a non-religious adoption agency, and a bunch of people venting about Pat Robertson's recent idiotic remarks about special-needs adoptions.
Well, then.
If I were to try to do a Secular Humanist version of this blog, where would I look for sources? Most Secular Humanist thinkers focus on how we should be able to live our lives in freedom without having religious fanatics run our lives for us. Which is true. There are also Secular Humanist organizations which create a social context that fills in the space left by religious services. Fair enough. Communal services do serve a function in both the individual psyche and the social fabric. So they get together, talk about shared values, perhaps support a food bank for the feel-good aspect of it. I don't see Secular Humanists really putting their life on the line for anything. They will work for causes they believe in, yes, but only up to a point. If our life on Earth is all there is, if there is no Higher Power for us to look up to, then doesn't it just boil down to "feelin' good was good enough", a la Janis Joplin? Without the framework of religion, why would one take on the challenge of a special needs orphan? Would one have what it takes to work a miracle, without the belief in miracles in the first place?
Well, I googled "secular humanism adoption", "secular humanism orphan", and so on. Well, surprise, surprise, not a whole lot. I did find a charity that built a children's village in Tanzania for HIV+ orphans. Some on-line discussions about how difficult it is to find a non-religious adoption agency, and a bunch of people venting about Pat Robertson's recent idiotic remarks about special-needs adoptions.
Well, then.
If I were to try to do a Secular Humanist version of this blog, where would I look for sources? Most Secular Humanist thinkers focus on how we should be able to live our lives in freedom without having religious fanatics run our lives for us. Which is true. There are also Secular Humanist organizations which create a social context that fills in the space left by religious services. Fair enough. Communal services do serve a function in both the individual psyche and the social fabric. So they get together, talk about shared values, perhaps support a food bank for the feel-good aspect of it. I don't see Secular Humanists really putting their life on the line for anything. They will work for causes they believe in, yes, but only up to a point. If our life on Earth is all there is, if there is no Higher Power for us to look up to, then doesn't it just boil down to "feelin' good was good enough", a la Janis Joplin? Without the framework of religion, why would one take on the challenge of a special needs orphan? Would one have what it takes to work a miracle, without the belief in miracles in the first place?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)