The last few days I've been carefully considering the writings of some of the prominent, well respected "New Atheists", including Richard Dawkins and Stephen Hitchens. As I do, I feel a constant tension between an admiration of the beauty of the rational thought by which they came to their conclusions, and a bitter distaste for their applications, especially their hatred and intolerance of spirituality.
I keep remembering my one of my atheist friends who has suggested a tshirt design. It would include a picture of Richard Dawkins with the words, "I'm an atheist, but I'm not a Dick about it."
Anyway, and that same time, I continue to study my way through James for my turn to preach this weekend, and I find myself at two stories at the end of chapter two about very unlikely people who are lauded as examples of faith. The first example in the passage is a man raising children after he's older than most people should live, and the other, a prostitute who's example of faith is lying and deception. It's laughable.
Soren Kierkegaard wrote about faith in Fear and Trembling not as something absent from reason, but transcendent of reason. Speaking of the story of Jesus and the Cross (and sounding not too unlike Richard Dawkins in my last entry), he says that it embodies the height of humour. From the manger, from the cross, we point upward toward the most utterly unexpected and ridiculous notion that an infinitely intelligent being would choose to join us as one of the least and most despised of us. A poor child. A criminal. How absurd.
And all this week I keep thinking of this song. One day, I will perform in a rousing, dancing, colourful celtic punk band a la Dropkick Murphys, and I will cover this song.
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