As I was standing at Cabo Branco looking out across the vast blue Atlantic, thinking about the continental plates drifting apart, my mind drifted back, naturally enough, to my visit to Iceland two years earlier to attend an atheist/humanist conference. Iceland was formed—is still being formed—by lava flowing up from the Mid-Atlantic Ridge as the plates are separating. Half of Iceland is on the trailing edge of the North American Plate (San Francisco is on the leading edge), and the other half of Iceland is on the trailing edge of the Eurasian Plate. A small busload of us atheist and humanist visitors stood at the location the Icelanders claim is exactly over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, with one plate to the east and the other to the west of the valley at Thingvellir. At this spot, the Althing, one of the world’s oldest parliaments, a pagan government, was formed in the year 930. Annie Laurie and I had joined an international roster of speakers in Reykjavik, the world’s northernmost capital. It was our first visit to the country, and the first time fellow participants Richard Dawkins and Julia Sweeney had seen Iceland. It was great fun to tour the exotic, varied land with such insightful people, all of us wide-eyed at the strange and beautiful scenery. We got to stand at the top of the Godafoss, the waterfall into which the pagans were forced to throw their wooden gods in the year 1,000 when the invading Christians from Norway gave them a choice: convert or die. (I wonder if that happened on a Thursday, the day we still honor their god Thor.) If I had had a wooden cross and a statue of the Virgin Mary, I would have lobbed them into the falls, too. Naturally, I stood there also with my arms spread apart: “I claim this land in the name of reason.” The greatest pleasure of that trip was meeting the local atheists and humanists, and learning that fundamentalism is virtually nonexistent in a culture that descended from the pagan Vikings. The annual Atheist Picnic in July was freezing cold, but it was a hoot!
Representing the Freedom From Religion Foundation, I get to engage in similar atheist “missionizing” all across the American continent—although most of the people I meet are already freethinkers doing their own brave work. I am not the Great American Prophet bestowing blessings from afar. I am a peer and a coworker, joining with other enlightened non-souls to bring reason, science and humanism to a faith-soaked planet.
In one memorable trip, I was invited to represent atheism at the 2005 World Religions Conference in Kitchener, Ontario. I had told the organizers I would love to participate but that atheism is not a religion, so they changed the program to “World Religions and Philosophies” in order to accommodate me. I think it is fantastic that atheism is starting to be recognized as a legitimate point of view, that atheists are no longer automatically seen as evil and immoral, and that we are occasionally invited to sit down at the table with everyone else.
As recently as the 1960s and 1970s, atheists were not even considered part of the fabric of society. You had to be religious—any kind of religious, even cultish or nutty—to be considered a good person.
Provincial and municipal dignitaries and hundreds of registrants, including many freethinkers from the local humanist society, attended the huge conference in Kitchener. I sat on the stage alongside a Sikh, Muslim, Roman Catholic, Jew, Buddhist and Native American spiritualist. We all disagreed, of course, but we did so civilly, with a spirit of understanding and tolerance. We looked for areas of agreement and overlap.
In the United States, the fastest growing religious identification is “nonreligion.” Today, there is a whole generation of young people for whom the phrase “godless Communist” is dusty ancient history. Americans between the ages of 15 and 30 are currently the least believing demographic in the nation, with as many as 30 percent being nonreligious. Speaking at college campuses is especially rewarding for me. I am often invited by a secular campus organization for a debate, lecture or concert.
The kinds of students who take the initiative to run a freethought (atheist, agnostic, humanist, skeptic) group are cream-of-the-crop. Considering that students are very busy, and usually very poor, and that becoming involved with campus activism is completely discretionary, they have to be highly motivated to go to the trouble of engaging in such activism. I often ask the leaders why they formed the group, and they usually respond that it’s because they want to socialize with like-minded nonbelievers, and because they want to “fight back.” Religious groups on campuses are often very pushy and obnoxious, and the nonbelieving students want to counter their proselytizing to promote reason, science and human ethics over faith, superstition and orthodoxy. Some of the most fun moments of my life have been
after
these campus events when we all go out for pizza and debate the hours away. I learn a lot from these bright, caring students. Many of them are studying on the cutting edge of science, history, philosophy, language and law, and I get to pick their brains and bask in their enthusiasm. The future of freethought looks bright.
In Dublin, I learned from students at University College that the current generation of Irish youth sees itself as completely separate from the past, as their parents were from their grandparents, although to an even greater degree. They are trying to catch up with the rest of secularized Europe. The young Irish are embarrassed at their history of religious divisiveness and intolerance. Some of them mentioned that the scandals of sexual impropriety among the priests have lowered the country’s respect for religion and weakened the church’s influence. It appeared that about half of the students involved with that 2007 debate were atheists, so they were not bothered by my outspoken views. But they wanted to know, “Are you a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist?” (Richard Dawkins later told me that this is an old joke, but it was new to me.)
Something significant is happening in the United States. The number of campus secular clubs is growing rapidly. I remember 15 or 20 years ago counting about a half dozen groups, but today there are hundreds. The Freedom From Religion Foundation has been working with the Secular Student Alliance (SSA) in a joint outreach project to college campuses, and the SSA is very busy just trying to keep up with the increase in affiliates. That is encouraging. If we can divert just one young mind from going into the ministry or from wasting time and money on religion, we have made the world a better place.
We have suffered enough from the divisive malignancy of belief. Our planet needs a faithectomy.
I gave up the religion, but I kept the music. As atheist conductor David Randolph, a Lifetime member of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, writes in his book,
This is Music
, there is no such thing as religious music. Music is just music, and it is the lyrics that make a song “religious” or “freethought.” As an atheist, I have written a number of freethought and humanist songs that I am eager to perform to any willing audience. I have also discovered a treasure of historical freethought music, including Tom Lehrer’s crowd-pleasing “Vatican Rag,” the traditional English ballad “The Vicar of Bray
”
and Irving Berlin’s rebuke to censors, “Pack Up Your Sins and Go To The Devil in Hades.” It was pleasing to walk into London’s Conway Hall a few years ago and see myself billed as “Dan Barker: The Singing Atheist.”
But the most satisfying production I have been involved with is
Tunes ’n Toons
with Steve Benson. Steve is the Pulitzer Prize-winning editorial cartoonist of the
Arizona Republic
, a former Mormon and a grandson of Ezra Taft Benson, who was once president of the Mormon Church and President Dwight Eisenhower’s secretary of agriculture. When Steve made a very public break with Mormonism in the early 1990s, it embarrassed his family and the Church. Since that time, the once-conservative artist has transformed himself (he’s “born again!”) into one of the funniest and sharpest nationally syndicated editorial cartoonists in the country. (His editor complains, “A picture is worth a thousand phone calls.”)
Steve and I do a timely show looking at religion in the news that combines my tunes with his cartoons. It is one of the most challenging projects I have ever worked on and one of the most rewarding. We now have about four hours of material, but each show has to be updated with fresh cartoons and whittled down to 60-90 minutes. We work feverishly up to the last minute inserting new dialogue (such as “Do televangelists do more than lay people?”) and songs (such as “Godless America, Land That We Love”) before going on stage, tailoring each performance for the occasion. We have played in Las Vegas, the District of Columbia, California, Washington, Texas, Wisconsin and other states, but most deliciously in Salt Lake City, where we did our Mormon version of the show. The first time we presented the show in Utah was for a group of ex-Mos (former Mormons) during General Conference Week of the Mormon Church. It was there that we were “inspired” at the last minute to write the “Salt Lake City Blues.”
Atheist “evangelism” doesn’t just happen in front of an audience. Driving back to Phoenix after that show in Salt Lake City, Steve and I stopped at a vista in northern Arizona. I walked to a stand where a Navajo named Bobby was selling jewelry.
“I’m also a Native American,” I said. “Lenape tribe. Delaware Indian.”
Bobby nodded.
Pointing to an array of silver necklaces, I asked, “Why are you selling Christian crosses?”
“People buy them,” he replied.
“But don’t we have any pride?” I asked. “The European invaders took our land, our buffalo, our history, our freedom and, obviously, our dignity, or else we wouldn’t be so eager to embrace the religion of our oppressors.”
I imagined I had scored a point, until he said, “They gave us hope.” Yes. He was hoping tourists would purchase his crafts. Tourists living on stolen land.
“So you’re a Christian?”
“I’m a Mormon,” he replied slowly.
“A Mormon?” Steve was walking toward us, so I raised my voice. “Here’s someone I think you should meet.”
“I used to be a Mormon,” Steve said. “I’m an atheist now. My grandfather was president of the Mormon Church.”
“The Mormon religion has been a great blessing to our people,” Bobby said.
“But it is demeaning,” Steve replied. “
The Book of Mormon
says that the Indians are descendants of the wicked Lamanites, who were cursed with a dark skin for their disobedience to God.”
Bobby looked up at Steve’s white face.
“How does that make you feel?” Steve asked.
“We deserved it,” Bobby replied.
My mouth froze open.
“
The Book of Mormon
says the Indians will become ‘white and delightsome’ if they convert,” Steve continued.
“But that’s true,” Bobby replied, claiming that when the Indians converted, they started getting lighter. “My skin will change color.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Steve responded.
“Well, the church has done a lot for me,” Bobby replied, “because I strayed as a youth.”
We encouraged Bobby to actually read the
Book of Mormon
and the bible, to learn something about the history of his faith and the oppression of Christianity. To be friendly, I bought one of his necklaces, but it was one without a cross. Although it was sad to see Bobby’s self-debasement, it was actually a memorable moment for us both. Steve had been a missionary to Japan (trying to turn Buddhists into Mormons) and I had been a missionary to Mexico (trying to turn Catholics into Christians), and now here we were, doing reverse penance, bringing the good news of atheism to poor lost America.
Reaching out to the unmassed masses, the FFRF has a national weekly show,
Freethought Radio
, with “slightly irreverent views, news and interviews.” It debuted in April 2006 on The Mic 92.1, a progressive talk radio station in Madison, Wisconsin. The hour-long weekly program, hosted by Annie Laurie and me and produced by Brian Turany (with help from former FFRF staffer Lynn Lau), went national on Air America Radio in October 2007 and is broadcast on weekends by affiliates in the United States. It is also podcast to listeners around the world. Our first guest was Ernie Harburg, son of the famous American lyricist Yip Harburg, a nonbeliever who wrote “Somewhere, Over the Rainbow.” Since that time we have had the immense pleasure of interviewing atheist and agnostic movers and shakers and state/ church litigants and activists from all over the country and the world. We interviewed Ron Reagan about how he knew he was an atheist as a child, even as his parents, Nancy and Ronald Reagan, were taking him to Sunday School. We had evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins on the show just before his blockbuster book,
The God Delusion,
was published, and then had him again the following year to exult in the international success of the book.
We talked with Sam Harris about
The End of Faith
and Daniel Dennett told us about
Breaking the Spell
(of religion). It has been exciting to speak with such luminaries as authors Steven Pinker (
The Blank Slate
), Susan Jacoby (
Freethinkers
and
The Age of American Unreason
), mathematician John Allen Paulos (
Innumeracy
and
Irreligion
) and Matthew Chapman (great-grandson of Charles Darwin, who wrote
40 Days and 40 Nights
about the Dover, Pennsylvania, “intelligent design” trial).