The story of a former Evangelical Christian turned openly gay atheist who now works to bridge the divide between atheists and the religiousThe stunning popularity of the “New Atheist” movement—whose most famous spokesmen include Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and the late Christopher Hitchens—speaks to both the growing ranks of atheists and the widespread, vehement disdain for religion among many of them. In Faitheist, Chris Stedman tells his own story to challenge the orthodoxies of this movement and make a passionate argument that atheists should engage religious diversity respectfully. Becoming aware of injustice, and craving community, Stedman became a “born-again” Christian in late childhood. The idea of a community bound by God’s love—a love that was undeserved, unending, and guaranteed—captivated him. It was, he writes, a place to belong and a framework for making sense of suffering. But Stedman’s religious community did not embody this idea of God’s they were staunchly homophobic at a time when he was slowly coming to realize that he was gay. The great suffering this caused him might have turned Stedman into a life-long New Atheist. But over time he came to know more open-minded Christians, and his interest in service work brought him into contact with people from a wide variety of religious backgrounds. His own religious beliefs might have fallen away, but his desire to change the world for the better remained. Disdain and hostility toward religion was holding him back from engaging in meaningful work with people of faith. And it was keeping him from full relationships with them—the kinds of relationships that break down intolerance and improve the world. In Faitheist, Stedman draws on his work organizing interfaith and secular communities, his academic study of religion, and his own experiences to argue for the necessity of bridging the growing chasm between atheists and the religious. As someone who has stood on both sides of the divide, Stedman is uniquely positioned to present a way for atheists and the religious to find common ground and work together to make this world—the one world we can all agree on—a better place.
Oh, man, do I relate. Here is an atheist that feels more at home in religious surroundings than with a secular community. While I’ve never considered myself an atheist (I’m happy with the phrase “agnostic Christian”), even if I were, I would hesitate to take the title. I don’t want to be known as someone who tears down rather than builds up. I have more in common with nonbelievers than fundamentalists, but I have never been able to swim in the waters of an online atheist forum without feeling queasy … like I just plain don’t belong. I’m not alone: so uncomfortable are many people with atheists that polls show them to be the least electable group in America.
Why? Why are atheists so distrusted? Enter Chris Stedman, a believer-turned-atheist who misses the goodness of Christianity, and feels happiest when he is joining the Church in the soup kitchen.
Yet, the “regular Joe” atheist is as misunderstood as anyone of any contrary belief system, insists Stedman. The problem is, when there is little familiarity, extremists become the face of a religious movement, and this is just as true of non-religion (atheism). The New Atheists have managed to monopolize the public discourse on atheism. They have succeeded in making atheism more publicly known, but at what cost?
The goal of the New Atheist movement is the total eradication of religion. Confront the religious, expose the idiocy of believing, and sneer it under the table. The antireligious rhetoric spewed by aggressive atheists is not a critique of theology, says Stedman. That, he could deal with on an intellectual level. Rather, such attacks are “based in a willful ignorance of what it actually means to be religious and of the way religious lives are lived, and turn religious people into a cheaply mocked caricature.” Chris tells of trying to fit in at an American Atheists gathering in New Jersey, which was “packed full of blasphemy sessions and speeches comparing religion to sexually transmitted diseases.” He recalls how “Witnessing the sheer vitriol some expressed toward the religious, I actually cried—hot, angry tears. I called friends of mine back home—atheists, no less—and recalled what I’d seen … One friend said to me: ‘You see, this is why I don’t want to call myself an atheist.’”
Today, says Stedman, he cannot recount the number of fellow atheists and agnostics who do not want to be associated with the movement. What has gone wrong? How did atheism sink to the level of polarized fundamentalism it claims to despise, and can the image be fixed?
Chris is trying. He suggests that the atheist movement should be more about what it does stand for than what it doesn’t. Energy spent disparaging what others believe (the New Atheism) is worse than wasteful; it’s toxic. There is no benefit in dehumanizing those with different metaphysical beliefs. Far more effective would be for atheists to promote constructive dialogue with the religious, treating them as intellectual equals. Atheism’s reputation can be rescued by reaching out, attempting to understand and empathize rather than bulldoze and mock. So, Stedman decided to walk the walk. He became the Assistant Humanist Chaplain at Harvard University, working in interfaith relations.
An atheist chaplain! Hee, hee! I doubt the New Atheists are amused, but I am in awe. This is a captivating, inspiring, must-read book, whether you are a believer or an atheist. Get it now.
First, I agree with his take on Gnu Atheism. Very much so.
I also agree with the idea of trying to find common ground with people of faith, though perhaps not to the degree he tries to seek it out.
Second, a relatively minor issue, but I wonder about someone this young writing a memoir. (Along with that, sorry, the book's not even 208 pages. It's 180 of body text. Kind of slim, especially at list price of 22.95.)
But, there's the more serious reasons I can't rate this higher. (And, how I can even sympathize with one or two two-star readers who didn't feel engaged by the second half.)
Chris notes the power of "story." Well, I see a few "disconnects" here and there, for one thing.
Related to that, some of those "disconnects" make me wonder just how much of an atheist he is, and if, to the degree he is one, this is just one stop on the road of his being a "seeker" of some sort.
Here's some excerpts from a long blog post I've written about the book.
1. Chris clearly was an "old soul" as a kid. I relate. He was also naive as a kid, at times, it seems. Maybe even clueless. I also relate. However, he also doesn't always seem aware of that in hindsight. That is shown in part by ...
2. The first time he visited a conservative church, he talks about how felt "moved" by the embrace from the "welcomer," and he later notes that was probably a budding gay sexuality issue. However, he never explicitly says that that was part of why he joined the church.
3. He joined this church for community. Only later did social justice drives arise. Since he had gotten his mom more interested in church then, why didn't they go back to her family's Methodism?
4. His dad gets almost no mention. Yes, his parents divorced, but it seems Chris as at least 10 when that happened. What was, and is, their relationship? Good, bad, nonexistent?
5. Another family issue. If Chris had gotten his mom more involved at that conservative evangelical church, how did she know to have him talk to this particular liberal Lutheran minister immediately after she read his journal? Did she already suspect he was gay? Chris gives us no background.
5A. It's depersonalized in other ways; we never hear names of his siblings and other things. None of their reactions to his "journey" are related to us. For that matter, neither is his mom's reaction.
6. Was Chris really "that much" of an atheist in his early years after "coming out"? Several things in teh book tell me now. He says that, at the end of his undergrad time at Augsburg, he felt jealous of progressive theologians, and he felt angry that he couldn't be and believe the same. He went to a graduate divinity school. And, after getting to Chicago, he only discovers "atheist community" after a full year of active involvement with Interfaith Youth Core?
Chris, Minneapolis is a big and diverse enough place; Chicago even more so. It sounds like "atheist community" was not that important to you, at least not until after extensive involvement with Interfaith Youth Core; is there a marketing/branding related issue? And, related to that we have:
7. A comment like this, page 130:
Anyone who looked remotely religious ... was given a suspicious sideways glance by my nonreligious friends as they went outside for their continual cigarette breaks.
Sorry, but I find that last clause gratuitous, even gratuitous with baggage.
I reserve the right to bump the rating back up, but, as I write further and put some of it on my blog, too .... I've moved this down to 2 stars. The more and more I think about some of the "depersonalization" aspects of the book, not just vis-a-vis his family but primarily there, I just had to do that.
There was a lot to like here, and I honestly agree with most of Stedman's premise and outlook — I do think the world needs more good faith (pun absolutely intended) efforts at humanizing people with whom we disagree and working together to find common ground and work toward the benefit of humanity. Broadly, then, we are on the same page. I also appreciated him sharing his own story and experiences, which tracked surprisingly close to my own in some ways. We're nearly the same age, and while I was raised in a religious household, it was pretty perfunctory mainline Protestantism. I went through a phase starting in middle school where I got super religious, then in high school came out as bi and fairly quickly fell out of belief altogether. A brief, angry New Atheist phase followed, supplanted as I matured by a growing realization that fundamentalists do not define religion and that brand of atheism is mostly reactionary bullshit. His philosophical progress tracked so closely with mine, in fact, that had I read this book when it came out in 2012, I fully expect that I would have given it a glowing five stars and raved about it to anyone who would listen.
But, as he himself mentions, there are pitfalls that come with writing a memoir before you've even hit a quarter century. I'm not 24 anymore, and while I'm not sure 31 is a whole lot more worldly wise, some of his ideas, particularly in the final chapter, smack of naivete. Interfaith dialogue is wonderful and important, yes, but some of his prescriptions come off as straight-up respectability politics, more or less arguing that we should be nice to religious people because if enough of us do then they'll finally like us and finally give us our rights. This is a shortsighted and ahistorical view at best, and other struggles have demonstrated that respectability politics are ultimately of limited use in effecting meaningful societal change. I'd actually be really interested to see if he has any further thoughts on this topic now, especially in light of the current political situation.
Still, a potentially worthwhile read, especially for someone still in or just coming off a New Atheist mindset. As I said, I do think Stedman's heart is in the right place, and if he hasn't got the details down here, he definitely seems to at least be on the right track.
While Mr. Stedman is young, which shows in his writing a bit, he is very impressive. His journey from irreligious to evangelical Christian, to tormented gay evangelical, to atheist, to interfaith activist is one many of us can relate to in a personal search for meaning. In the wake of an election and a decade in which Americans and the world are seriously in need of some mutual understanding, his book is timely. It calls us all to be better people in service of our fellow man, and willing to engage in dialogue with those whose goals may be the same even as our beliefs are different. It also calls people of different faiths and un-belief to work together against fanaticism and intolerance of all kinds. Read and challenge yourself to be a better person!
This book started out strong with the author relaying his viewpoints and his early experiences as an Evangelical Christian however midway through the book it became a dry reaccounting of organizations he worked with and appearances he made. I lost interest around page 84 and no amount of skimming brought me to a place where I was reabsorbed.
Is there a HELL for Mr. Stedman? (the really fun nice gay guy who desperately wants all the faiths, AND his atheistic brothers, to simply get along.) Why yes - pass the Hot Sauce.
There's obviously a Biblical Christian Hell: somewhat hot and lonely. Maybe a Buddhist hell: Dalai Lama speaks frequently of hell-beings and demi-gods. Possibly the atheist's hell on earth scenario - yes if all those pesky Fundamentalists were fully in charge. But all the cults seems to mention a hell of one kind or another. The Islamic Quran insists that Chris is bound for some torture and burning from Allah. And surely Hinduism has some interesting hellish thoughts: keep an eye on that Karma.
The problem is that Chris is such a nice guy: he simply sides with moderate liberals from a few of these belief systems and shrugs off centuries of traditional theology, wars, and Cosmic judgement. You are free to do that - but you had better be right. The world seldom agrees with you.
It's not so much that Chris has some different beliefs and will indeed say he's sorry if he's found to be wrong - but he just may be taking some of these people with him. Do your homework buddy and maybe look a little deeper while there's still time. _________________
This book is Stedman's memoirs about growing up with/without religious belief, homosexuality, and social justice efforts. This is one hardworking guy - I'd hire him: not for any serious religious studies or theology, but for general team moral and coffee runs (as long as he doesn't try to make me watch Sailor Moon or look at Rolling Stone Magazine's pictures of a shirtless Justin Timberlake. I'll compromise and watch some of the 5th season of Dukes of Hazzard).
Chris is on a mission to help us all just get along. Which is a pretty great challenge. WE can be really annoying and cranky can't we, especially those New-Militant Atheists. Yes, Chris knows them well, he even tried to be a part of them once... but he's just too nice for all the abuse. Which makes him perfect for the job of assistant humanist Chaplain at Harvard University (is that a real job description and title? Cool!) If you have a problem with faith or getting along with other faiths, or no faiths at all: then Chris is your eager ear and shoulder to cry on. I'd definitely take him out for a coffee and Bagel.
So why did I give his Magnum Opus only 1 star? Well, as nice as Satan was in the Garden of Eden simply trying to enlighten some potential humanists to their full potential: (Genesis 3:)
4But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. 5For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
The snake was just trying to help. I'm sure he just wanted humans and demons to be the best of friends. Chat, share, go out for some Java, sacrifice some babies, and simply accept some other points of view. What could possibly go wrong? They won't surely DIE. (except the babies, abortion is nasty. Just ask Hillary Clinton). Yes, Adam & Eve are very much DEAD right now. Physically for sure - Spiritually, well? Not necessarily. But Satan indeed gave them some bad advice. As is this book. (If i'm correct that is. If NOT? Then relax, do whatever the hell you want. You'll still end up dead. Science still can't seem to cure stuff that's right in front of them - sure, scientists claim to have mapped out the multi-verse and origins and warts on a gnat. But those hospitals are still filled with sick people who just can't stop dying, and the bottom of the nearby oceans are still a bit of a mystery.)
Book Title: Faitheist - How an Atheist Found Common Ground With The Religious.
Should you find common ground with Terrorists? Pedophiles? Serial Killers? Nazi Dr.'s? Somebody's nasty old Aunt Agatha that poisons children Hansel and Gretel style? Or people who talk during a quiet movie? In the Ancient days of the Bible (and a few other cultures) they simply said: Kill or Stone them, especially for that movie bit. Don't make lasting friendships and invite them home to your wife and children and pooch. Be slightly cautious. There are standards.
Now, I know, I KNOW! There's good people everywhere. They're simply misunderstood. Horrifyingly: that is exactly what they want you to think. They love ol' softies like Chris Stedman. How do you think the Nazi party so easily achieved all their goals? And indeed i've met a few pedophiles who have impressive people skills - YOU'D LOVE THEM: THEY'RE GREAT WITH CHILDREN. Okay, so that's all worse case scenario's. And yet my local newspapers are filled with violence, crime, abuse, corruption, drugs, bad decisions that destroyed lives... most people are basically GOOD, aren't they? Not really. Just like Adam & Eve, they are one conversation with a snake away from destruction and stupidity.
Chris Stedman, like other liberal guru's: such as Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Brian McLaren, Gandhi, and that guy from Nightmare on Elm Street... they're all about arranging the furniture on a sinking titanic. Make everyone comfortable for the cold dark plunge into oblivion. That's if i'm Biblically correct of course. More than my fingers crossed.
Quote: (pg. 174) "I believe that change will come from within--that by participating in interfaith work, the nonreligious will broaden the meaning of such efforts and that the language used to describe them will change accordingly."
It appears that everyone has forgotten (or seriously kicked under the rug) the TRUTH of atheism, buddhism, hinduism, Christianity, Cults. Chris is delusional when thinking that he can someday turn all beliefs into to some kind of phony moderate liberal non-traditional Hippy lovefest. Some will change - but the core historical documents of religions, and the brutal non-caring heartless materialism of atheistic science is just not going to go away. Not without Violence. Religions AND ATHEISM do not want to work for a BETTER world - they work for THEIR worldview. Indeed, the rest be damned. Anything else is simply dishonest.
I was going to be mostly nice during this book review: but then Chris gave me way too much information about his HOT DATES with old boyfriends. So all bets are off. Not that i'm homophobic - but I don't care to watch animals make nice nice either. And I think God mostly ignores our sex issues. I know i WOULD. There's probably some very cool sporting event on the Large Screen up in Heaven's lounge - No reason to hear about Chris's boy-dates going down his pants. That really has almost nothing to do with Faith. Even God chose to leave stuff like that out of the Bible. Dismembered bodies is one thing, but let's leave the love stuff up to Solomon and Ruth.
Now we should probably deal with this now. Yawn! Chris attempted to read the Bible, I also read the Bible: we both agree that it very clearly says "Don't Be Gay". Take it up with God if you must. Sadly, Chris did find some liberal heretical preachers and church-goers who either removed those verses or found some way discount them. Do what you must. But you gotta agree: it fits the story from Genesis to Revelation. So what do you do with Polygamy? Can that not be true love amongst consenting adults? Nowadays most are very ready to accept it. But, once again, the Bible is clear: one man and one woman. Don't be hating on them Mormons and Cults: they're just waiting for the official human-rights Civil Justice Warriors to say "Have at it you FREAKS! We're behind you! As long as feminists get to be incharge." Of course, Pedophile longings can't be much further away. If there's that many pedophiles who REALLY love children - it must be natural. (and yes, there are millions of pedophiles). Apply that logic to Bullies: If there are millions of bullies in the world - then that's simply evolutionary selection and natural breeding instincts. Don't be hating on survival skills of the masses. Simply do what God says "NO, cut out that crap!" Whether it makes you feel all gooey inside or not.
Chris was very confused about Biblical theology back in his prepubescent homosexual discovery days. He gave up on God and serious Bible study before he really began. Dude, wait till you're over 40 - you'll realize how clueless just about all young teenage thought is. It's all hormones, lust and pride, mixed with some young immortal vanity. But you don't go to hell for having some confused sexual feelings. That wasn't Sodom & Gomorrah's sin. They simply wouldn't control their desires and rebellion.
I have a theory: all people are given one or two major obstacles in life to overcome. Blessings and a Curse if you will. Helps build character. Sadly, most people fail at this challenge = they trust their feelings to guide them. So: With compassion comes tolerance. With humor comes crudeness. With discernment comes absolutes. With lust comes... more lust.
According to the Bible: You can't take your GAY with you to heaven. You also can't really take your Heterosexuality either (so don't get your panties all in a twist). And I seriously doubt you can take much of any GLBTQ gender swaps to the great pearly gates beyond. You go as God insists - YES, CAUSE HE'S THE FREAKIN GOD OF THE UNIVERSE. And Feminism is right out. Ask the Apostle Paul. If God wants me there as a talking donkey: We'll have a short discussion - but God'll win I'm sure.
Is Chris a natural Gay? The way Nature made him? Well, there's a whole bunch of clues in the book that seem to insist he had it coming from outside sources. Anybody else notice them? There's about 10 of them. Rather large issues that crept into his family and upbringing. Nothing to be hateful about - just stuff to ponder. Hey, I still would have been his buddy in highschool: we could have watched endless musicals together: West Side Story, Sound of Music, Grease, even the Rocky Horror Picture show... I draw the line at Hedwig's Angry Inch (that is just freakin disturbing... we could compromise and listen to QUEEN.) But we all have challenges in our past that made us who we are. And through it all - Chris sounds like a pretty great friend. (I'd even tolerate him in his angry Atheist days. That's just fun. Debating that crap is my favorite pastime.)
Now I could spend a bit of this review attacking and debunking atheism. But that's not really Stedman's purpose in life. And he's mostly hurting himself anyway. So the big issue is still COMMON GROUND.
Quote: (pg. 174) "This is precisely what interfaith work sets out to do: elicit civil dialogue to increase understanding, not stifle it for the sake of playing nice."
In one way this is a fun goal: get everyone talking and chatting and being honest. As a Christian I have no problem doing this at all (as you can tell with this humorous review), and when chats are done I won't be stoning or burning anybody on a stake who disagree's with me. The worst I might do is vote them out of a church (as a heretic) or simply stop buying them specialty coffees at Starbucks. The world is my mission-field of evangelism: it's best to not murder or put to death your potential converts.
The problem I have and often see is: Other religions and even atheistic faiths can't so easily handle this. Indeed the Catholic church has a history of brutal violence and there's even violent insanity amongst the Protestants (I doubt they were Jesus loving do-gooders with a heart for Biblical theology though). Some folks did seem to forget that this is currently Satan's world and we don't get to necessarily make the rules. But anyway, I have a hard-time getting Muslims to be honest about their religion, Same goes for Hinduism, Buddhism, Mormons, Cults, Sikh's, and especially those non-religious atheists. A heck of a lot of propaganda gets spilled in the name of tolerance and sales pitches. WE are all aware that a few Islamic Terrorists just can't stop laughing at the tolerance and acceptance of the liberal social justice cause that begs them to come in and insist they are a victim. While endless Muslims are fleeing their Muslim dominated homelands to escape...? What exactly? Other Muslims? Or only those Muslims who are incharge? Inter-Faith is not the answer.
So, we are stuck for now learning how to get along and occasionally protect ourselves from Evil (for those that believe in Evil that is). So the elephant in the room is Truth. We live amongst opposing views and contradictions. People calling Good actual EVIL, and evil actually GOOD. (Yes, keep going into Mother's wombs and murdering babies in the name of freedom and woman's rights. I'm so evil for even saying that.) That's why this book gets one star: because it's eternally dangerous.
Having said that: I do think Chris is a fun marvelous guy who is doing the best he can with what he's got. No damnation from me. But you haven't even begun to explain the Cosmos yet. You might want to get on that ASAP.
I picked up Faitheist for a multitude of reasons, one of which was a serious love of Eboo Patel's Acts of Faith which was a phenomenal read and to this day remains one of the most influential novels I have ever read. Faitheist doesn't hold the depth of Acts of Faith but that doesn't mean it isn't an important part of the discussion with regards to building an interfaith community.
As I read through Stedman's childhood in the first few chapters and his changing relationship with the church I couldn't help but see myself. So many of his experiences and the way he felt about the church were similar to my own. To this day these experiences, often so extreme on one level or another, have caused me to struggle greatly in my relationship to the church and to Christianity in general.
While Stedman's youth certainly shows through in this book (I believe he was 25 when he wrote it) this doesn't mean that he doesn't have a number of valid points. The biggest take away for me is a quote that comes late in the book: "I'm tired of seeing people pitted against one another because of these inherently false broad strokes that paint religious people as 'delusional' and atheists as 'degenerates.' Let's start to see one another as people first." This is so important. Broad generalizations of any group of people does more damage than good. As a society we need to share our stories. We need to be open to other view points and not just open but actively try to understand other perspectives. It's hard to hate all Christians or all atheist or all whatever if you are willing to engage in what Steadman refers to as storytelling. If we get to learn one another's stories and will listen with openness and the search for connections from the start there is no room for hate to survive.
This book sure gave me a lot to think about. I listened to Chris Stedman when he came and gave a very enjoyable talk at Portland State University several months ago. Afterwards, Center For Inquiry-Portland took him out to dinner, and I enjoyed his company even more. When I finally got around to reading his book, I was pretty sure I knew what to expect: the New Atheists are doing it wrong, we need to build bridges and create dialogue, you catch more flies with honey, all that stuff. And yet there were several moments in Chris's story when I was caught off guard. In the beginning, I found myself disagreeing with him on certain points, but by the end of the book, I was convinced that Chris was really onto something and that his ideas are much needed and long overdue. I still don't agree with every little thing Chris said, and I made a few notes in the margins every time I thought he was off the mark. Still, I think this book has enormous potential to bring a lot of positive change into the world. I want to buy a copy for my conservative Christian father, because I think reading this book will help him cultivate a level of compassion and understanding for queers and atheists that would otherwise be close to impossible. Likewise, I know a few dickhead atheists who might benefit from reading Chris's story. Love it or hate it, this book is sure to keep making waves, and I'm eager to see what Chris does next.
This is difficult for me to write because I really wanted (and expected) to LOVE this book. I've met Chris a number of times and I find him incredibly inspirational and an all-around awesome person. He's doing amazing work at the Harvard Humanist Chaplaincy. But I cannot say that his book is incredible because I felt completely underwhelmed.
This may be because I'm already on board with the mission. I've been doing interfaith work for the past several years- the idea of cooperation between people from different faith and non-faith traditions isn't new to me. I expected Chris to focus on the interfaith aspect. Really though there are only about 20 prime pages of that.
Much more time is spent on Chris's childhood: his conversion to Christianity, realization of his sexual identity, self-hate, becoming an atheist, etc. Somehow, even with knowing the ending, he made me root for him to find a welcoming Christian community. Th way he paints the story, I became as invested as young Chris and then it was almost crushing when Chris realizes that he doesn't believe in God.
The other main message of the book is really geared towards atheists and how atheists can work together with the religious to effect positive change. Chris outlines a number of arguments, cites statistics, brings his own personal experience. It's a wonderful, very long pep talk that may work... if you're an atheist. Personally, I'm not.
At the beginning of the last chapter Chris writes, "I've questioned the appropriateness of writing a memoir before reaching the age of twenty-five more than a few times." I question it too. If I hadn't already met Chris and heard him speak at an interfaith institute, I don't know if I would have finished the book. If I had paged through it and read some excerpts in a store, I wouldn't have bought it. In book form, I just don't find Chris effective- and I think he should be. I firmly believe that the message of interfaith cooperation needs to be spread widely. In person, Chris is wonderful at doing that. Will Faitheist convince theists? I don't know. But if I didn't already believe in the end goal, it wouldn't have convinced me.
I had the privilege of hearing Chris Stedman speak at Lincoln School in RI, and I was so impressed with him, I immediately went out and bought his book. As a lifelong atheist, I was fascinated by Chris' story, especially the reasoning he went through when he became a "born-again Christian", and then his gradual dissatisfaction with religion in general. I, too, have been attracted to secular humanism. The thing I find most powerful about Chris is his genuine desire to connect with people of all backgrounds and opinions, and his belief that we, as humans, can accomplish more when we endeavor to listen to and understand one another. Militants of any sort put me off; I think that the "New Atheist" movement, which I must admit I do not know a lot about, would be more effective if they were not derisive of other's beliefs. Shortly after reading this book, I read that more people are identifying themselves as atheists than ever before. I think that this book is a starting-off point to encourage people to tell their own stories and to respect others, even if their beliefs seem preposterous. Although religion is not something I choose to have in my own life, I understand that it brings many people comfort. Perhaps if we all stopped proselytizing and just let each other be, we'd find more common ground.
Chris Stedman shares his personal story - a journey punctuated by major transitions. He is raised in a nonreligious household, then becomes an evangelical Christian, then realizes he's gay and must confront societal pressure along with his own self-hate. After that he realizes he doesn't believe in God, then despises religion, then finally seeks to find common ground with believers. All this in the span of 25 years.
While I am left wanting to know more about the factors that led him to renounce his faith, that is secondary to the main thesis of this book, which is to encourage believers and nonbelievers (especially the latter) to focus less on "winning the debate" and being right. Instead, the focus should be on finding shared priorities and goals that we nonbelievers can work together with people of faith to achieve. In the process we can have conversations, make friends, and be a lot more effective in getting our point across than we would by simply by debating and shunning our cultural competitors.
I thought the first few chapters, chronicling his life in middle school and high school struggling with his sexual orientation and relationship with Christianity, were the strongest. Lots of good insights on how and why atheists need to find ways to collaborate with religious people in order to do good in the world.
The word cloying kept popping into my head. Chris' youth shows in his self absorption. His descriptive phrases feel artificial. He tells us up front that he has a terrible memory and yet knows when a gust of wind brought the scent of lilacs into a room. Or when his shirt was soaked with sweat from exertion. I found the flowery descriptive bits distracting and a little self-indulgent.
His journey feels very passive. He doesn't seem aware that the church lured him in with smiles and pizza. He just knows he has a boner for one of the welcomers (who it turns out was simply using his good looks and charm to lure in new recruits. The revelation of the ploy doesn't lead Chris to any deeper thought than "where'd the cute guy go?") He goes along with the church until switching to another church. Continues at a religious school even though he doesn't believe in god. Did he get a scholarship? Is this the only school that had an interfaith program? Does Chris ever make a decision for himself?
His stories seem apocryphal -- In that they work out perfectly for him. His standing ovation for his courageous high school speech and hug from the guy he was most scared of. The broken glass reflecting the brokenness of his spirit. Both are as believable as any after-school special.
By page 101 I was pretty tired of his uninteresting journey. Chris is really interested in how everything revolves around Chris. There's no sense of anything else going on.
The atheist party - taking his shoes off and being underdressed. He paints himself always as the underdog. The one just trying to do right but snobby atheists call him names and ignore him.
The title itself suggests Chris sees himself as the lone outsider. He was the only gay kid at his school so he took himself out of the system to learn on his own because no one understands him. He's the only one going to the "crack stack" and establishing real relationships because his friends don't understand these people the way Chris does...although he won't engage them fully because how could they understand his lack of faith?
Pious? Is that a word to use?
From page 160 "The activism of my adolescence was defined by self-righteousness..." I would say it's still a large part of Stedman's writing/activism. In every anecdote he sets himself up as the lone understanding hero. The underestimated champion of equal time for all parts of the conversation. Cloying is the right word.
From Patel's introduction. He finds it hard to picture Hitchens or Dawkins doing something nice for someone. This sort of self congratulatory, patting on the back is again more about being self-righteously smug than about genuine understanding.
In the end I didn't finish the book. I just couldn't take it any more.
Against the backdrop of his memoir, Chris Stedman has produced a valuable call to action. Having begun to confront questions of sexuality, religion, and community as a teenager, Stedman changed his personal approach several times. He discovered that his "conflicted enmity toward religion was poisoning [his] own well." Today, in his mid-twenties, he asserts the values of listening, compromise, intellectual humility, and relatedness above "being right." In this sense, the moniker "Faitheist" is meant to encapsulate how Stedman's approach differs from that of the "New Atheists."
Stedman describes atheism as an "identification marker" for people who don't believe in God. Atheism isn't a belief system, and it doesn't have to be anti-religious (a "toxic, misdirected, and wasteful" path of discord). Instead, he believes that atheists and theists can learn about and appreciate each other, both by finding common ground and by exploring their differences. He says that we should engage our "religious and nonreligious identities" in our dialogue, as these identities "are perhaps our most important social capital, for they signify our most central values, which inform how we act in the world." Even if we do not persuade each other to change our opinions, at least our relationships are "more honest and real."
Religion has obviously been a force for both good and evil. Rather than attempting to deal with religion in the abstract, atheists should--Stedman believes--address actual religious people in dialogue. Together people can build "a diverse community defined by shared values rather than shared identity." His story provides a vivid example of what this dialogue looks like in action and the positive effect that compassion, open-mindedness, and honesty can have on a person's life.
A valuable addition to interfaith and atheist popular literature. Stedman doesn't enumerate what I consider the best reasons for leaving faith, but he does tell a heartfelt, personal story of being religiously misfit, misunderstood by religious and nonreligious people alike in his desire to find common ground.
This really made me think about what interfaith really means and what it should mean. Good food for thought and inspirational. One of my favorite statements from book: ...a quick perusal of human history shows that when one person's idea of "rationality" trumps basic human decency for other's, we all suffer.
FYI @ Erin - he even quotes Vonnegut a couple of times!!
3.5* - I really like the idea of this book, and think that atheist perspectives are absolutely needed and productive in interreligious/interfaith/interethic dialogue and community work. As a memoir of a very young man, this piece delivers in an earnest and unabashed way that's often delightful. But this is also a book that is very clearly the product of a cis white man who has benefited from an incredible degree of community and institutional support, and the memoir format with such emphasis on the "I" does exist in some friction with the author's proclaimed goal of community justice and service work.
My biggest criticism of this book is what I felt was a huge missed opportunity - there is a lack of interethic dialogue on the page, as in, the author does not ever dig into how his humanist beliefs engage with any religious beliefs or tenets. In most other interfaith books I've read or conversations I've had, there is a significant leaning into the actual beliefs, especially in the context of overlap or reflection or paralleling. To some extent, the absence of this kind of engagement does make it difficult to "see" atheism in an interethic context because it's not clear what the basis of theoretical engagement is. And so as someone who really wants more interethic exchange between religious and nonreligious peoples, I was left feeling a bit untapped by this book, like the meat of the author's life's work was alluded to but not actually explicit. (Which, I would contrast with Eboo Patel's Acts of Faith in which Patel does pull in examples of how his Muslim faith evolved and refined through his interactions with others sharing his faith and those with different faith traditions.)
Overall, a good read. And I would be very interested in reading more work in this vein from Stedman in a decade or two.
“I was beginning to fill the void left by Christianity with my own beliefs: I had accepted that I didn’t believe in God and even found inspiration in the thought that, if there was no afterlife, that the here-and-now ought to be appreciated and lived to the fullest. But hating religion and the religious wasn’t making me happy.” (102)
Religious belief is historically fluid, culturally determined, and becoming more obsolete as societies increase quality of life standards. A billion plus humans are proving every day that a belief in a God or gods is unnecessary for living a moral life - and this number grows each day. The sheer variety of religious expression from one era to the next and from one nation to the next is itself proof that belief alone, even fervent belief, is insufficient evidence for proclaiming objective truth about a god or gods or elevating a sacred text above all other books. Not all religious claims can be right when beliefs from the various religions are mutually exclusive. To me, it is more likely that those practicing a particular religion are misguided by choosing a single prescribed path; BUT they are acting out our fundamental (and beautiful) human desire for purpose, meaning, connection, and continuation in this one, brief life. These sentiments were captured well by Jean Paul Sartre when he said “that God does not exist, I cannot deny. That my whole being cries out for God, I cannot forget.”
On many days, I’m an atheist. As one, it can be attractive to absorb the teachings of other prominent atheist thinkers like Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennet, and comedians like Ricky Gervais, George Carlin, Penn & Teller, Tim Minchin, and Mrs. Betty Bowers. Public atheism is historically new and common atheist reactions to ongoing religious atrocities, dogmatism, and civil setback are disdain, bitterness, contempt, parody, and ridicule. These reactionary responses may seem justified to many atheists and free thinkers who have historically underwent discrimination and banishment for public disbelief amidst a sea of religious hegemony. Though atheism is the default and null human hypothesis that historically makes no claims, it has evolved to become more obvious and for the last 2 decades has taken offensive postures against theo-normativity. This fight seems moral to many atheists as they seek to reduce the influence of religious dogma in growing secular democracies.
However, even if the atheist reactions are justified, generating negative thoughts and emotions year after year has battered and weakened my spirit of kindness. I am guilty of feeling anger, bitterness, contempt and exceptionalism many times over the last decade since my departure from the Christian faith of my upbringing. If I absorb atheist material that expresses these sentiments - I will feel this way. We can’t help but impart what we imbibe.
My reason for reading this book is to see if there is another way to be a non-believer.
Can an atheist learn to live peacefully in a religious world? Can an atheist be in genuine relationship with religious people? How can I best live in a world that will be largely religious for the rest of my life? How important is “being right” compared to cultivating right relationships with others? How can I remain true to myself and my unbelief, yet still hold space and respect for others who believe differently? Should I continue to carry this bitterness or is there a way I can learn to let it go so I can be more at peace with myself in the world?
In his book, Christopher Stedman outlines his journey into and out of Christianity. As a gay man, his desire to belong and to feel connected with others was at odds with the Christian dogma of resistance toward homosexuality. He badly wanted to feel loved and accepted by the Christian God, but instead found words of condemnation in the Bible, and gestures of rejection by his fellow Christians. While in high school, he endured months of deep depression and isolation to the point of almost committing suicide before he was able to finally come to terms with the way he was. His journey of self-acceptance was helped along by meeting other gay Christians and finding support among some straight Christians. It is clear from the narrative of his formative years, that Christian scripture and Christians were an unhealthy and unsustainable mix of both trauma and consolation.
Shortly after entering college, Stedman lost his faith in God, and it came on quite suddenly. Wounds still tender, he became triggered and lashed out at Christian and religious dogma. “If I was expected to tolerate their religious proclamations, then they needed to accept my irreligious rants.”
He relapsed into moments of trying to find more palatable variations of God through other religious traditions and even by absorbing more progressive Christian apologists, but to no avail. “I didn’t believe in God anymore, but I didn’t know how to be anything but angry about it. He had disappeared, and all I felt was absence.”
He doesn’t go into much detail on the trains of thought that led him to lose a faith that had been such a dominating force in his life. How to become an atheist is not the subject of this book, so maybe he just wanted to keep it limited to his personal story and how to be a nicer atheist. Because his audience is atheists, he doesn’t waste time preaching to the choir.
“after I lost the faith I remembered that I had always tried to do good and help others and that the desire to act selflessly for others transcends religion.…p109
Service for others transcends any particular religion as most have some aspect of service built in. Communal meals, and feeding the public, for example, is commonplace in churches, synagogues, and temples around the world. Sufi Muslims and Sikhs have a word for free public kitchen - langar - the largest of which feeds 100,000 daily. What motivates so many to do so much for others when they have such different perspectives on God? Perhaps the benefits we derive from serving others don’t come from the respective god or gods, but rather derive from our connections with others - our service to humanity.
“...I still wasn't sure what to call myself. I used “atheist”, “agnostic”, “non-religious”, and “secular” interchangeably, but none of them felt really right; while each was accurate, they all seemed a bit inadequate - more like descriptors than identities.” (136)
One of the challenges of being a non-believer is coming up with a proper word to describe one’s non-affiliation. While some love the provocative nature of the word “atheist”, and have no qualms using it as an identifier, I tend to shy away from it. The word is too loaded with assumptions and negative connotations for me to feel comfortable using all the time. It’s also too limiting. While the label “Christian” imparts a basic belief in biblical stories, miracles, creeds and doctrine, the word “atheist” says only that one doesn't believe in God. It fails at capturing what I DO believe in. To say one doesn’t believe in God is just the start of a conversation about what one does believe in. Other terms I’ve heard are “Bright” and “Freethinker” (pretentious), “Humanist” (speciesist), and “Spiritual-but-non-religious” (also limiting). I tend to call myself these days a “bewildered person” because it connotes curiosity, ignorance, awe, and humility. Keeping it lower-cased helps to protect against fundamentalism and dogmatism. Have you ever met a bewildered fundamentalist?
“I believe that broadening the aims of the atheistic movement to be more affirming and less antagonistic will mean that it will have more to offer people - that it will contribute something positive to their lives.” (146-47)
The author claims that atheism is much more prevalent than it appears to be - mostly because many non-believers are hesitant to identify with atheist organizations. As in all groups, group psychology and cohesiveness can be impacted by identifying and castigating an “other” as a contrast to group norms and ideals. Often the most abrasive members who can best highlight the contrast become organizational leaders and spokespersons. As this has impacted atheist groups, many are choosing not to affiliate.
"Until those of us who do not believe in God are seen as having an equal capacity to be moral, anti-atheist remarks will continue to perpetuate discrimination and atheists will be seen as less moral than the religious." (152)
It is our responsibility as atheists to be known. If we do good things and people know us to be non-believers, our very existence and actions cast doubt on the claim that one needs God to live a moral life. We can show otherwise and that criticism will hold less weight for those who know us.
Stedman closes his book with practical advice on how to build bridges instead of walls. He states that both atheist and interfaith movements have a common goal to end religious extremism and fundamentalism, thus they make good partners. Also he points out that Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, Thich Nhat Hahn, and other prominent religious believers were motivated by their respective faiths to impact the world in a powerful way. Non Believers can learn from their actions and be curious instead of critical about how their faith was a guiding force.
As a follower of Chris Stedman's work, I've come to know a bit of the path he's taken over his short yet full life and how that path has brought him to the space he now occupies. I, too, am of the "kinder, gentler atheist" ilk and knowing for over a year this book was forthcoming has been an almost agonizing wait, exacerbated even further by the tantalizing snippets posted on his blog.
I understand how Chris strives daily to promote constructive pluralistic discourse among all belief systems and have heard how moments in his past have shaped the ideals of his work. But I also had to wonder: what could a 24 year old possibly have accrued in life experiences that would warrant an entire book? Was this ambition wrought from naiveté, conceit, or both? After consuming its pages in just over a day of reading, how wonderful to discover that neither virtue weighed very heavily in its conception.
Part of the plight of an atheist is the pervasive, incessant discomfort we feel at being open about who we are. Nearly every revelation of this identity is in some small measure akin to a gay person coming out of the closet. Over time we grow weary and often find ourselves avoiding the subject altogether. In Faitheist though, Stedman bravely blows down the proverbial door of his own closet and invites the reader in, leading us along the winding path of his journey, intent on baring naked all the missteps and lighted tunnels that molded the Humanist he is today. Without taking the professor's lectern, he pushes us to consider finding ways in our own lives to listen, question, and even embrace different ideas for what good they can do and how they relate to our own.
But in the end, Faitheist really isn't a Humanist "manifesto" nor is it a directive of action. Its intent is to get us to look inward and reflect on our own choices, past and future. Stedman asks "Given that we are here, what will we do? What is the greatest value of our action?" This is the message, the goal, the endpoint. Ultimately, it's a story, Chris's story. Raw, heartbreaking, beautiful, challenging, and (most importantly) hopeful.
I think that the beginning of Chris's book will strike an amazing cord in many of its readers. I expect that a good bit of its readers may be somewhere on Chris's spectrum. In my case I was heavily in Chris's spectrum as a Gay boy who moved from a social Catholic, to a committed Wiccan, ultimately ending up as a Humanist/Secular Buddhist who finds his expression within the Unitarian Universalist community. Reading the first part of Chris's book was, in a lot of ways, like reading my essay "Spiritual Atheism: A Search for a Reality-based Theology."
Chris uses the medium of story-telling to get his point across, and he does that very effectively. Having said that, I can't give his book the 5-stars I was looking forward to giving it because, in the end, the book just doesn't go far enough. In the end it doesn't answer the question that, in my mind, the whole book was set up to explore and answer.
We learn how and why Chris became an atheist. We learn clearly that he thinks that the "New Atheist" movement typified by Dawkins, among others, is shooting themselves in the foot with their characteristically antagonistic methodology. We know that Chris's answer is interfaith dialog, and I think he gives good reasons why he thinks it works. But the stories I was after in the second half of the book were stories of that interfaith dialog experience, HOW he makes it work, WHAT he's experienced doing it.
But those stories, really, aren't there and so you're left, in the end, somewhat hanging. At 26 even Chris himself wondered why he was writing a memoir. After reading Faitheist I think Chris still has a memoir still in him after he gains some more experience in what he's doing. I look forward to reading that book, now that he's whetted my apatite with this one.
In many ways, this book spoke to me. I've felt alienated by the church, mostly through perceived hypocrisy, yet I maintain many friendships with strong Christians, feel very comfortable around churchgoers of a certain ilk, and find that a lot of good work is done through churches. Also, I'm uncomfortable with strong rhetoric, and fundamentalism exists on both sides of the faith spectrum.
So, while the story resonates with me, I found the book a little limp. His solution is "we all need to work together, and my humanist interfaith organization is a great way to do that." It's not so much a call to action as a call to moderation, which is fine, but it feels like PR. I personally find accounts of action more compelling than a manifesto, and while he shares a few experiences of crossing borders to discuss faith, it strikes me as "Hey, here are two things that back up what I think." It's fine and dandy, but show me your good work, don't tell me about the work we should be doing.
To be fair, the author is three or four years younger than me (which becomes apparent/annoying when he writes about all his tattoos or the music he's listening to). His story is powerful (more powerful than what I experienced in my life or through the book), but, man, do something, don't just write about it.
If you are an atheist and the increasingly xenophobic and disrespectful rants coming from the likes of Dawkins, Harris and Hitchens bother you, Chris Stedman's philosophy and actions will probably make you feel better, whilst challenging you to convert your own ethical beliefs into practical action that will materially improve the lives of others.
I thought the book was not without its flaws, one being that the memoir parts were simply not as engaging as the call to action in the final part. In this respect, reading Stedman's blog, Non Prophet Status, is probably just as rewarding as this book. The book does provide a lot of good pointers to further resources though, and I would recommend it just on the basis that I found a really neat summary of my worldview very neatly expressed by Stedman towards the end. He writes, "I am far more concerned about whether people are pluralistic in their worldview - if they oppose totalitarianism and believe those of different religious and non-religious identities should be free to live as they choose and cooperate around shared values - than I am about whether someone believes in God or not."
Chris Stedman has the right ideas. He just hasn't written a great memoir. I understand why he did it: he strongly affirms the value of personal stories to build connections between people. Unfortunately, a heartfelt story doesn't make you a good writer -- a dull story sours into unbearable with Stedman's attempt at a charmingly self-disparaging tone. All the same, I hope book sales have helped support his work.
Stedman's main point is that instead of fighting religion, atheists should partner with religious people and organizations to make the world a better place. This includes fighting religious extremism -- which is more effectively done when you have religious moderates on your side than when you're trying to paint an entire faith as violent and ignorant (a tactic which, instead, just tends to lead to more extremism). An additional benefit from this approach is that more people will come to accept atheist humanism as a valid moral stance, leading to less discrimination against the godless.
I received this book through a First Reads giveaway. I was drawn to this book because of the focus on building interfaith coalitions and an atheist movement that works with religious groups, rather than against them. Chris makes some very compelling arguments about the need to collaborate and bring social justice to the forefront. This book almost seems to be two books in one - part memoir, part polemic. While Chris certainly has some interesting stories to share, at 25 his life experience is not as interesting as is his work to build interfaith dialogue and reshape the 'new atheist' debate. I wish he had delved into this more.
I first heard Chris speak on a podcast that I listen to. I really enjoyed reading his story into and out of Christianity. I have a great deal of respect for the work he is doing now; uniting the religious and irreligious for a common good. I think this book would speak to anyone who has ever felt themselves in the minority. I love that he seems to be working through the trials of his past rather than letting them fuel anger. This book is well written with a few places where the youth of the author shows through. Overall a good read.
I realize Stedman is big on the power of narratives, but I guess I was hoping for more discussion of ideas. It's possible to discuss big ideas through narrative, but Stedman generally told his stories without digging into the deeper ideas. Doing so would have been the glue to bind the stories together; as it was, this was mainly a memoir of a person maybe a little too young to write a memoir. Still, as an irreligious atheist without the general hostility toward religion that a lot of my fellow atheists seem to feel, I could relate to a lot of what he said.
Mr. Steadman raises very good argument for why we should all work together to improve our communities, cities, regions, world. Only through working together and sharing our stories can we see the things we have in common rather than our differences. If we don't share our stories then the only voices that people will hear are the loudest and most extreme, and those are the voices that people will use to define you. Muslim=terrorist, Christian=Westboro Baptist Church, etc.
Enjoyed reading it. I Identified a lot with the Stedman's initial struggle. It was more autobiographical than anything. I guess I was hoping to get some great insight into how to deal with those situations and it didn't spend a lot of time being self-reflective. However, it's an ongoing struggle, as I am sure it is for Stedman, so it's understandable that there wouldn't be a particularly strong resolution to the story.