Day 2: Neil DeGrasse Tyson teaches me about the Cosmos

Neil Degrasse Tyson: Atheism is taking over

 If this Lent Season had me sharing about forty-five self proclaimed atheists influencers, I wonder how narrow my perspective would be.  So I will open up this season of Authentic Lent by highlighting an amazing scientist who doesn't willingly claim "Atheist" as his identity.    Listen to the following Youtube video of an interview with Neil Degrasse Tyson where he talks about "Why he doesn't believe in God."  

Neil Degrasse Tyson on Why he doesn't believe in God: Which God? There's 18,000. (Part 4) 

I am enamoured by what I have listened to so far by Neil Degrasse Tyson.  He is a new discovery for me, but he's been around for a long time.  He is an Astro-Physicist  He is a lover of the cosmos.  He knows things I wish I had access to.  He understands the stars, where as I can only gaze up at them with my eyes and wonder.  He has glanced at galaxies close up, where as I have never looked through a telescope in my life.  

With such an extensive understanding of the Universe, I can understand why "God" isn't something he sees through his telescope.  He doesn't need to reduce the amazing vastness of the cosmos to an ancient mythology.  It's so much more magnificent for him. 

What drives me to learn more is that I've learned that the stars are my ancestors.  I want to learn more about them and my place in the cosmos.   

“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff” Carl Sagan

I've said before that believing in science requires as much a stretch for me as believing in a creator.  I personally don't have access to the evidence that would convince me to enough certainty.  It makes sense that the universe is a whole lot older than the Bible says it is.  I am okay to understand most of the Bible as mythology and all of it man written.  I would vote for the scientist before I'd vote for the theologian, but I still would be voting on faith, and not knowledge.  I'm not saying the knowledge is not accessible to humanity, I just haven't ventured far enough away from my ant hill to discover it first hand.  

This is why Neil Degrasse Tyson is a great voice to listen to.  The evidence mattered to him, so he went after it.  He did the digging required to discover what really is out in the Cosmos.  He climbed out of his ant hill and went in search of ... dare I say it... truth.  

* * * 

This early morning I had a dream.  My mother and I were at a funeral in a big Lutheran church.  We were cuddling up in a pew in a quilt to keep warm.  (must have been cold).  There was a little girl who sang a song I have become very fond of, but I would never expect to hear it in a Lutheran funeral service.  The song was written by Tim Minchin.   I felt for a moment in that church service a little less like an outsider because of Tim's song.  I even found myself singing along with it.  I will end this post with the song and Day 2 blog posts which I found timely and encouraging this morning. 

The Aeroplane: Tim Minchin and Asmara Feik

 (Stay tuned to hear about more about Tim Minchin later during 2024's Authentic Lent journey)

Day 2: 2022 - "Just longing for a place to fly

Day 2: 2023 - "Not everyone calls this "God" 

Day 1: Authentic Lent 2024 - From VaLENTine's Day to my Birthday

Today... Is it Valentines Day, the day of Love or Ash Wednesday,  the beginning of a season of grief known as Lent?  Love or Lent? It's both.  VaLENTines Day!  

This will be my third year of my Authentic Lent blog.  For the first two years I joined Pete Rollins and the "Atheism for Lent" course and spent the forty-five days of Lent hearing the voices the past  (for the most part).  Voices that are long gone, but that offered the people of their time a different take on life than had been offered through the conventional religious channels of the day.  Voices like Frederich Nietsche, Jean Meslier, Marguerite Porete and Robert Ingersoll.  Scattered through out my thoughts of the "Atheism for Lent" reading assignments are my own journey notes, not always about the AFL homework subjects.  I spent the forty five days of Lent just purging my soul of its contents.  

This year, Lent ends on Good Friday again, and on my 56th  birthday.  I decided to forgo Peter Rollins "Atheism for Lent" course and do somewhat of my own "Atheism for Lent".  This time, I want to bring to my blog,  the voices of today.  The great thinkers that still share the Earth's atmosphere with me:  Philosophers, Scientists, Authors, Podcasters and Youtubers that have been guides for me along the journey.  

Most of the voices that I will share here in the next month and a half are well known to the deconversion community.  Our little band of apostates have been encouraged by so many of these pilgrims that have gone before us.  We all feel less alone because of them.  So during Lent this year, I want to share the wisdom and insight I have gathered from each of them with the hope to pass along some of that gold to others who have found themselves outside of their Christian communities.  We don't have to be alone.  We are not alone.  

I am not as organized as Pete Rollins is, so I have no schedule.  But each day, I'll see what inspires me and who crosses my path.  I also want to go back to the archives and read each corresponding day from the last two years.  I will add links to those entries at the end of each post.  

I invite you to journey along with me during this season of Lent.  Like I said... we don't have to be alone... we are not alone.  

Day 1: 2022 -The Dance of the Dark and the Light

Day 1: 2023 - "Exist or Dwell" 

SACRED SATURDAY

Today will be my last post here for this season.  I am not even adding today in the count down.  My Lenten season countdown ended yesterday.  But today is something I still want to write about.  Today is where I live.  

I grew up going to church at least four times over the the Easter weekend.  Once on Thursday, once on Friday and twice on Sunday. Five times if one included the Lenten Wednesday service.  Needless to say... for a youth, it was harrowing.  But one day stood out in that week.  It was Saturday.  We had a reprieve from church.  It was breathing space for a girl who went to church because it was required of her, but she rarely if ever voiced her inner discontent with it.  

I never spent much time wondering what Saturday was all about.  Why didn't that day deserve a service of some kind? Why didn't the people gather and reflect on what that space in between death and life meant.  We never talked about it.  We just saw "death" and then waited for "life" because it came every year.  There was no sadness because "death" was not permanent.  

This religious event in my life didn't teach me about the reality of death.  When death came in my life, there wasn't life in two days.  There was sadness and sorrow and pain and heartache and Saturday existed where Sunday did not.  

Now I have the freedom to sit in Saturday.  I will let Sunday go as if it were another day of the week.  I let the loss permeate my being and I find meaning in what is now Sacred to me.  

I do want to send out a special thank you to all my AFL sojourners.  Your words and companionship have been a great part of this journey.  Thank you for your wisdom and vulnerability.  Thank you for being available to listen and love.  Thank you!

Day 45: Bad Friday

 

Like Poplar Sunday, I have a strong desire to rename today to "Bad Friday".  I could do some added research to discover the reason that today was labeled "Good", and I would probably find out that it has something to do with the atonement theory.  

I've seen over time that it is human nature for most people to want to colour over the pain, loss and sadness.  We as humans wouldn't survive long as a species if we dwelled in the pits of life for too long.  So we take our sadness and try to spin it for something beneficial.  We look for character building moments in our tragedies.  We look for a rainbow after a storm.  We look for some way (to use a phrase from a common worship song) to  "trade our sorrows".  Maybe that is why today is called "Good" 

But what if we just had the opportunity to sit in the gravity of the the story of that Friday (if it even was a Friday).  Every year, millions of people gather for a traditional service to "remember" the events of the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth.  How often in those services can someone remove themselves from the repetitive liturgy and traditional practices to sit in the sadness.  I don't think we can.  It's not in us to leave the picture and it's lines without what a crayon provides.  We need to colour in the picture.  It is incomplete without it.  Or maybe it isn't. 

Today is Bad Friday because it was really was a bad day.  

Day 44: Sad Easter

 I want to scream right now.  I want to let the world know that I have had enough.  "UNDERSTAND ME, OKAY?"

I can't even explain myself in detail and get a corresponding... "Okay, I understand."  Maybe it would have been better to hide in the closet.  Maybe little Enneagram 4 needs a kick in the pants.  The world doesn't want my authenticity.  The world doesn't want my grief.  They want my joy,  my happiness, my laughter... they don't want my sadness and my pain.  

Easter is painful, like Christmas is painful.  The world is happy because Jesus is born or Jesus is alive... "So let's celebrate!".  It would be much easier if I could be apathetic, but I'm not.  I hurt and I hurt bad.  This is real.  Maybe it is easier for some to sweep me under the carpet and pretend that I haven't lost the biggest thing in my life.  

What is this going to do for any pain or loss I encounter in the future?  How will I receive people's affection and compassion for any other loss I will experience?  If the biggest loss of my life goes unnoticed, will I ever be able to feel like my sadness matters. 

Day 43: Toxic tulips

There are three days left before the end of this leg of the journey.  Writing every day isn't easy.  I don't know why I still do it, but somehow, my fingers don't want to retire yet.  

I probably won't do AFL next year.  Maybe this year was too much, hard to know.  I got a few things out of it, but it wasn't quite as transformative as my first run through last year.  Maybe some things are just best done only once.  

Next year Good Friday will be a different experience for me.  I am debating what to do for Lent next year with the end landing on my birthday.  Maybe Authentic Lent will be a different journey, not including atheists or theists or mystics.  

I enjoy the challenge of my writing spurts.  It keeps me exercised and practiced in the art of expressing my thoughts.  Maybe one more way to prevent Alzheimer's.  

I learned something last week... Tulips are toxic for cats.  It is a bummer.  I knew a lot of plants don't go well with the feline variety, that is why I don't have them in my house.  But my neighbour brought some tulips over and it was the first time in a long time that someone brought me flowers.  Most people close to me know that I can't have flowers in the house.  But I kept them... and that lasted a short time and I ended up taking them out and laying them on my neighbour's grave.  How can something so beautiful be so toxic? 

Day 42: Tasting the pain

 

She welcomed each guest into her home.  Each had come with an invitation from her own hands.  She knew some, others, she had only heard of.  No one brought flowers or cards.  She had requested that they come without any offerings, except what was inside of them.  

As the guests found a place to sit down, she looked over the faces.  There were no smiles, no laughter, no tears.  Their sullen faces told only one story.  They had come because they had tasted. 

A knock on the door brought her away from the gazes of her guests.  She opened the door to find her best friend.  They looked in each others eyes for only a moment before came the interruption of words.

"Why didn't I get an invitation?" her friend asked.  "I have been your friend for thirty years.  There is nothing we have not done together.  We were playmates and confidants.  I stood up for you at your wedding, you stood up for me at mine.  We are best friends. Your husband died and yet I am not invited to your home.  Why can't I be with you in this sad time? 

She looked with compassion at her friend.  This woman had been with her for decades of joy and laughter.  They shared so many days of love together.  But when she had penned the invitations to this event, this great sadness, her friends name didn't make the list.  

"Yes, you are right.  We have been friends for so many years.  We have been playmates and confidants.  We stood up for each other as we started our journeys of marriage.  There isn't a joy we haven't shared.  I am grateful for all those times and thankful for the love we have shared.  

"Then why have I not been invited to your husband's memorial?  Why can't I sit with those who have gathered to walk you through this loss?

"Because as much as you have shared my joy and love, you have never tasted loss.  You have lived your life avoiding heartache and death.  Maybe one day you will, but until then... If you have never tasted your own pain, how can you taste mine? 

* * * 

I think, like food, pain can be present, but not tasted.  Bread crumbs swept under a carpet instead of consumed... that is untasted pain.  There are so many ways to live with pain and loss and not take it in, stay with it, consume it.  I personally think death is untasted when "Heaven" is embraced.  The loss is temporary.  "Heaven" becomes a place where we can have it all again.  It's kind of like having Easter Sunday two days after Good Friday.  There is no time to be sad.  It seems like it's a performance... but there is no tasting the loss of that which is presented.  

Most have been conditioned to see death as a hiccup in the total experience.  It is seen in how we talk of death to children and even adults.  What if we are doing a great disservice to people by not giving then the chance to sit in their loss and in their pain.  

Here is how the gathering ended...

* * * 

After she left her friend at the open door, she returned to her guests.  

"I have asked that you come here, without flowers, without cards, without anything but the pain that dwells in the core of your being.  I ask that you give me only that.  Share your pain, share your loss.  Let this be a place where the fragrance of your shared sadness becomes greater than the scent of any roses or carnations.  That is the best gift you can give me today." 

And she sat down in silence and tasted their pain.