There's No Place Like Heaven

Growing up I was certain there was another life awaiting me, upon crossing the threshold of death. I knew there was an afterlife, a heaven, a paradise, just beyond the reaches of this world. Whereas other religious people whom have confessed to me they have many doubts regarding the fundamentals of their faith, I believed absolutely in God, the Bible as his word, and the tradition of Judaism as the living truth. Though in Judaism heaven is not as predominate as in some other religions, it is understood that after we die, we are brought before God for judgment and, provided we repented before our last breath, we would be spared from the darkness of hell, and brought forth into heaven.

There is a certain comfort which is unparalleled in the secular world, of knowing that one is going to outlive his own death. What came after this brief and tragic life was promised to be glorious beyond earthly comprehension. I so believed in the eternal afterlife that as a child I would spend many a night laying awake in bed terrified by the concept of eternity. Eventually I would become so frightened that I would wake my mother with tears in my eyes, asking her to explain eternity. She would comfort me by stating that God is smarter than we, and therefore we need not worry about how he will make heaven enjoyable for us. 

This deep seated belief stayed with me for 23 years. I loved life, but was unafraid of death, for I knew without a shadow of doubt that beyond this earthly existence, this tragic play of suffering and joy, of tears of laughter, of chaos and order, lies a place of only goodness, whatever that meant. (I can retrospectively see the paradox in a paradise, for wouldn't "good" lose all its meaning without a measure of "bad"?) When I rejected my childhood faith, when I committed myself to rationalism, I was faced with a fear many people seldom think about. 

I was suddenly gripped with the fear of death. I was finally able to stare into the abyss that awaits us all. After our "moment in the sun" we are gone, never to live again. Whereas most people I presume, have either ridden themselves of this irrational fear, or they have suppressed it and are only struck by its harsh blow when they too, focus on the brevity of life, I was faced with it for the first time.  

For me, it became an obsessive thought. At any moment I could stop breathing and I would vanish from existence. And with my death, everything I was planning, my dreams, my hopes, my goals, would vanish as well. How pitiful when one lets his fear of death envelope his life. 

I am still trying to conquer this fear of death, for I have never had to do it before. It has made me less courageous, less able to risk my life, and uneasy with concept of sacrificing my life, even for the greater good. I used to know that if the moment arose, I would be the first to give my life for another, now, I am now hoping I am never confronted with such a challenge. 

Of course, the fear of death is completely irrational.  That is to say, there is nothing to fear. Once you no longer exist, you will not feel anything, your consciousness will be as dead as you are. You will quite simply, not exist. I once heard it said: "There is no reason to fear death. When you are here, death is not, and when death is here, you are not." A rational platform, indeed. 

The fear of death mustn't be confused, however, with the will to live. These two, though similar in subject, are very different in content. The will to live is a healthy disposition, based on enjoying your life, the people around you, the work you are involved in, etc.  The fear of death is the terror of no longer existing. It is the solipsism that believes the world just could not go on without you. It is the arrogance that your life is too important to simply vanish. The will to live, mentioned above, should also not be confused with self-preservation. Self preservation is a natural impulse, an almost inescapable instinct, not a will. 

This fear of death, that I have recently begun feeling, has made me even more suspicious of religion. Is it not just too convenient that just as every human feels the fear of his own death, every religion has ways to circumvent it? The pieces seem to fit too well, do they not? This is not the only existential fear that religion vanquishes, but it is perhaps the most comforting. Heaven has also been a great motivator for righteousness, for it is the righteous, religion teaches, who receive a share of paradise. The danger for the rest of humanity depends on how "righteousness" is defined by the myriad of religions and their myriad of gods. 

So, I will continue to suppress this fear of death by combating it with its inherent irrationality. Where I once would proudly die for my beliefs, I will take the, perhaps, more timid approach stated by Bertrand Russell: "I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong." Lastly, I will grasp every moment of life, every precious instant with a vigor and excitement, for any one of them could be my last. 

And in the times where the fear has all stricken my heart, I will remember the great words sung in Monty Python's "Always Look at the Bright Side of Life": 

For life is quite absurd

And death's the final word

You must always face the curtain

with a bow

Forget about your sin - give the

audience a grin

Enjoy it - it's your last chance

anyhow. 

So always look on the bright side

of death...

Life's a piece of sh*t, when you look at it

Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true

You'll see its all a show, keep 'em laughin' as you go

Just remember that the last laugh is on you

And...

Always look on the bright side

of life...

The greatest weapon against fear is comedy, is it not?

Why I No Longer Want to Be an Atheist

When I left my religion a little less than a year ago, I quickly gravitated towards atheism. Not passively, because I no longer had belief in God, but actively so. It would seem that after I removed myself from the community of believers, I sought a new community, a community of atheists.

Interestingly, I have met only a few people who will call themselves atheists. Even my most secular friends shy away from the word. Stranger still, my friends who will admit that they don't believe in God, will call themselves non-believers or unbelievers, that is, if they don't avoid any such labels entirely. Thus my community was formed online. Through various social networking sites I was able to attach in some way or another to a a cultural array of thousands of men and women who do identify as atheists. This was comforting for a time, a sort of roadside inn on my ever-bending path.

However comforting having a cause to fight for or having a community may have been, I could not avoid two facts: 1) The word atheist carries with it a negative implication, and 2) It is not how I wish to identify in the long run. It is not, so to speak, "the sword I wish to die on."  I began to critically examine the word "atheist" both it's literal understanding, as well as it's colloquial undertone.

The term "atheist" according to the Oxford Dictionary means: "A person who disbelieves or lacks belief in the existence of God or gods."

However, many people wrongfully define it as: "The belief that there is no God."

Though I am quite certain there are people who believe there is no god, this, in my experience, has not been the true definition of an atheist, nor is it any less illogical than the theist. The religious, ironically, are very quick to point out such hypocrisy. "We are not all that different, you and I," the theist will say to the atheist, "for as I believe there is a God, you believe there is none!" Indeed, he would be right in the case of an atheist who believes there is no God. Disproving that anything exists is an impossibility, as was pointed out, in a mocking sense, by Russel's teapot.

The majority of atheists with whom I have come in contact have identified with the actual definition, that of  disbelief or lacking belief in God or gods. An a-theist is simply someone who does not subscribe to any theology. The same is true with words like: apolitical, amoral, and achromatic, the prefix "a" simply means "without." In it's simplest sense "atheist" is a harmless word that describes nothing more then that the individual labeled as such does not have a belief in God. In this literal definition many secular people can be rightly placed. Yet there is resistance, why?

A word's definition has never been set in stone. It flows with the culture, it evolves and morphs with society. This etymological evolution must be respected for words have always been a means to communicating with other people sharing our era, or eras to be, nothing more.

Therefore, it is not the literal definition that will shine a light onto a word's true meaning, but it's implication when used in contemporary dialogue.

In our 21st century society this term seems to come with a sort of negative stench. Moreover, it is received as an attack against theology, against religion, against God himself. Thus, atheism has become synonymous with anti-theist. Though many atheists are troubled by this, is it not at least somewhat the case? When one calls themselves an atheist, identifies as an atheist, is one not standing in direct opposition to religion? This is not necessarily a bad thing, it may at times even be a great thing; however, we should be aware of what we are doing when we use the term. We are making a statement. A statement of rejection, of disagreement with religion, and generally people feel antagonized by those who disagree with them. One cannot help but feel threatened when someone is standing in opposition against what they love, what they hold dear, what they don't want challenged.

Today, calling yourself an atheist sets you apart from the religious, opposite them. This, I will repeat, is not to mean that I condemn in any way its usage, but that one who claims to use it just to define his state of credulity toward religion, is as silly as someone calling himself gay in the 21st century, referring to his happiness.

There are those atheists who are on a mission to correct the definition. They hope to appeal to the masses and change the connotation of "atheist." I salute their valiance. However, I do not know if such a thing is possible. People do not enjoy changing their opinions nor the words they use to express those opinions. Perhaps in this age of tolerance we will yet see this word made into a positive label. Though I suspect, if that day comes, there will be no more use for it anymore.

So, after almost a year of non-belief in God, am I an atheist? Literally speaking, yes, but what of the "definition" as it is perceived today? I suppose that would depend. I think it best to use it as one would a weapon. I will examine the situation, evaluate the effect the word will have on the person listening, and acknowledging it's mighty power, choose to use it, or not. It is not who I am, I am not wholly an opposition to religion. I am a rationalist. What is rational I embrace, what is an insult to reason, I dispose of. I have no enemies. I walk a path beaten with steps of many travelers, both religious and secular, who have come before me. We are all on the same journey, the relentless pursuit of truth, above all else.

Western Implosion and Middle Eastern Explosion

The Earth, it seems, is imploding in the West and exploding in the East. While ISIS gains power and rages through the Middle East, we in the West have become fearful for our very lives. Indeed, if ISIS or one of the other terrorist organizations fueled by Muslim fundamentalism gets hold of a nuclear weapon, one cannot help but wonder whether that would spell the end of existence on this planet. It would seem that as science comes ever-nearer to fully understanding the earth's beginning, religious fundamentalists are hellbent on it's end. However, is that all we have to fear?

As our worried eyes turn inward, toward our western democracies, are we to worry less? Perhaps, we mustn't worry for our bodies, for the law certainly protects us, but what of our souls? I use this word for lack of a better one. I not referring to the concept of "soul" in any immortal sense I assure you, I am merely referring to the part of humans that seeks to transcend itself. The portion of our consciousness that motivates us to build rather than destroy, to plant rather than uproot, and to "become all I can be" instead of become what they want me to be. 

As we look upon our free societies we can see a sort of moral decay. People seek money, fame and decadence, abandoning wisdom, truth, and goodness. The religious speak of their high moral standards, yet many of their so-called high standards have nothing to do with human happiness on this world whatsoever. The atheists speak of their morals as well, but how many can be said to study them, master them? Ethics may be the most important area of study today, and it is absent from most of our children's curriculum. Money has become as powerful as a god. Money represents survival, more money, more survival, and thus, more power. People are killing, stealing, and as selfish as ever. The world pursues temporary fleeting pleasures and not lasting friendships, strong ethical characters, and the thirst for knowledge. People seem not to notice the other, that is, whenever we are not actively hostile toward them. Which evil is worse, indifference or cruelty?

What is the source of our society's moral decline? I would like to posit that it is consumerism. The constant "need" for the next best thing. The misery of the present and the lust for the future. The great enemy of happiness. Consumerism is the confusion of "want" and "need." It is apparent to me, that this deadly confusion, this mixing of terms, has caused modern man to feel his very survival in jeopardy. When we are told that we do not have, and that we need more, how are we to focus on our moral fortitude? How am I to care for the less privileged when it is I who am lacking? When my lust is not satiated, why worry about them, the disgusting other. In fact, is it they who prevent my happiness, and more importantly, my very survival. 

This moral implosion, this ethical decline, will spell a cruel end to our civilization. We mustn't be confused, there is a real threat of death that hails from the fundamentalists of the Middle East, but we are no utopia either. We are strangling ourselves with self-imposed misery. Our society of individual rights and equal opportunity, is the platform necessary for a strong and happy civilization, but alas, without individual morality, without studied and taught ethics we are nothing more than a jungle of beasts disguised as civilized creatures.

One may read into this that I am calling for a socialist movement; that my enemies are the big corporations. This analysis would be dead wrong. I have not the interest in this essay to explore the positive and negative aspects of the many varying social orders, I am merely calling for something much more simple, yet sublime. A return to values. We need to study ethics, teach ethics, live ethics.  Scholars of history today know more than they ever have.We have seen many systems that have tried and failed. We have watched many revolutions against tyranny only gain power and become tyrannies themselves. Who better than we to create a lasting ethical code? One that seeks the best for the individual, whilst not forgetting the whole. One that embodies the morality inherit within each of us. One that is led by rational discourse.

The first step, I believe, is to live by the maxim: "Who is happy? He who is happy with his lot." Once we reestablish the distinction between "want" and "need," once we realize that our survival is not in jeopardy we can climb Maslow's pyramid and begin to focus on actualization, both of the self and society. Once accomplished, I believe humanity without much help, will begin to peek out from their material caves and seek to build a civilization based on values, based on respect and acceptance of the Other, based on ethical imperatives.

This analysis may, of course, be wrong. Consumerism may be not a cause but a symptom of the moral decline. One way or another, these are the discussions we should be having, we need to be having, or nuclear annihilation is not the only thing we should fear.

My Atheistic Faith

Recently, while conversing with a rabbi who is fast becoming a good friend of mine, I was "accused" of being a "man of great faith." The rabbi was of course making an ironic statement that followed our two hour discussion on religion. I advocated for raising children through reason-based ethics, and he, a man who has raised a few very fine children (within religion) told me that I must have a lot of faith if I believe I am going to be able to raise children in this crumbling world, without God.

I appreciated the irony of the statement, but also began to wonder about it's validity. Am I going to be successful in raising godless children to be as ethical and universally-focused as I am? Can reason withstand the roaring waves of emotional complexities that accompany raising children? Obviously, I am not leaning all aspects of child-rearing on cold calculative reasoning. There are no mathematical laws that can help parents raise a youngster. Every child is a vastly different universe sui generis.

However, rationalism in a broader sense, can be a guide. Is not the understanding that every child requires their own unique love and care, a rational discovery? In fact, it is irrational to think otherwise.

Yet without the great Judge in the sky who can see and hear everything, without heaven or hell, how am I to convince my young children to behave before they reach the age of reason? Certainly, even a young child can be frightened into good behavior by a god who is ever-inscribing their good and bad deeds in an eternal rap sheet. Is it possible to raise ethical boys and girls without God, or at the very least, Santa Claus?

The rabbi went further to say that even if a deserter of religion can raise ethical children, it is only because he or she was raised in a religious and therefore, moral environment. It is only a matter of time, the rabbi claimed, before the second or third generations slip into narcissistic indulgence and, in the worst cases, vicious barbarism.

If these observations are in any way accurate (I'm not convinced they are), we must reiterate the question posed above: Can one, without the "policeman in the sky," raise children in such a way that will ensure the continuance of ethical behavior throughout many generations?

Here lies my so-called faith. I do not know whether I can accomplish this feat, yet I am confident enough to try. I may have been raised religious, but I do not believe that religion can take credit for all, of even most, of my ethical behavior. I was raised by religious humanists, who found every Biblical verse they could to bolster the teachings of universal brotherhood, and mankind's responsibility to protect and care for the earths inhabitants. I have met other religiously-raised people who have very shallow characters, and yet others who have used religion to unleash evil unto the world. It then stands that religion is no more than a medium for good people to be inspired towards good, and bad people to strengthen their evil. [As a side note, I once heard a quote from Steven Weinberg which is most befitting to insert here: "With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil; but for good people to do evil, that takes religion."]

I would rather therefore, place my faith in myself as a future parent, and mankind as a race. Indeed, both I and humanity at large have committed varying evils that have led the cynical to give up on our species. I am yet young, and therefore still retain the hope that man, given the proper tools, can rise above his base animal nature and create a more refined world. I do not believe that man need religion to escape the bounds of self-indulgence, but simply to be educated in the importance of reason-based ethics and morality. Man can transcend himself if taught the proper perception of reality. We may be products of evolutionary natural selection but we are not slaves to it. Indeed, reason is the very tool needed to free ourselves of the shackles of survival of the fittest, where the strong prey on the weak.We can be compassionate to the sick and distraught; we can care for the widow and orphan; we can build societies based on principles of justice and integrity; and we needn't abandon our reason in the process.

It is with such a spirit that I will attempt to raise my children. A daunting task indeed, but alas, a glorious one.

Good Religion vs. Bad Religion

Atheists are frequently charged with the crime of painting with too broad a brush when it comes to religion. As Islam has held a monopoly on cruelty inspired by religion in the recent past, it is said to be unfair to compare Christianity, Judaism and Islam when discussing the problems with faith. This is certainly a valid point. Everyday on the news we hear about the acts carried out by Muslim fundamentalists against Western civilizations and even other Muslims. ISIS is becoming more of a global threat everyday. It is not being dramatic or apocalyptic to say that a great war lurks in our near future that may spell the end of the world.

Judaism and Christianity have been somewhat benign for a long time now, and even though there are, of course, fundamentalists in each of these religions as well, their rare acts of violence, however vile, scrape only the surface of the evil that has been unleashed on the world in recent years in the name of Allah. It would be irresponsible of us to forget this distinction in our discourse regarding religion.

It therefore, is irrational to place all religious faith or dogmatic obedience on the same scale. Clearly, some sacred texts have evolved, at least somewhat to fit the modern world, where others have not. To put it another way, a way I have heard it from religious moderates, there seems to be "good religion" and "bad religion."

Let us examine these two phrases. What does a "good religion" consist of? Does a "good religion" necessarily fit snugly with a 21st century mindset? Does a "good religion" change whenever the moral zeitgeist does? If the answer to this question is yes, I don't see why we even call such a practice "religion" anymore! Perhaps, it is more fitting to call such a religion, a tradition instead. That is, sacred practices observed fervently, unless it conflicts with the morality of the generation.

Certainly many, if not most, religious people would be repulsed by such a description of their faith. They wish to follow the word of God, not distort the word of God to fit pop culture. This type of religious faith is certainly more respectable, but what then, is a "bad religion?"

Do Islamic fundamentalists go against the word of Allah? Do they corrupt the text in order to live lives of temptation? Perhaps some them do, but others are just following the words emblazoned in the book they believe to be the infallible word of the one God. "Slay them wherever you find them. Drive them out from the places they drove you. Idolatry is worse than carnage. (Qu'ran 2:190)" These fundamentalists are following the word of God to the letter. Where the "weak-minded" have modernized and changed the texts to better fit into society, these "pious crusaders" are ridding the world of the evil infidels. Can this be called: "bad religion?" Are they not, in principle, acting the same way believers of other faiths do? Are they not simply going according to the text they believe to be sacred? To act any other way would be irreligious, would it not? It would seem that the only difference between religions is that some texts are more hostile to modern society and others less so.

Of course, it can be said that interpretations of these verses vary, and therefore, other Muslims believe such verses to be time-bound, and no longer relevant. This is, of course, what religions like Judaism have done. It is clear, for example, that most religious Jews do not hearken any longer to such commandments as: "If your brother, the son of your mother, or the son of your father, or the wife of your bosom, or your friend who is like your own soul will entice you secretly saying: 'Let us go and worship the gods of others'...you shall not accede to him and not hearken to him; your eye shall not take pity on him...Rather, you shall surely kill him; your hand shall be the first against him, and the hand of the entire people afterwards." (Deuteronomy, 13:7-10) For reasons of interpretation, the religious Jewish people have abolished such commandments. One would be hard-pressed to find a case of a Jewish man killing his brother for trying to entice him to Buddhism.

It would seem then, that the real distinction is not between good and bad religions, but rather interpretations that are more compatible with Western culture and interpretations that are more dangerous. How is one to know which interpretation of a given verse to follow? Say, for example, a Jew were to kill his brother for trying to convince him to convert to Buddhism, could he not simply cite this verse and explain that his interpretation varies from the norm? Surely the Jewish people would rise up and condemn such an act, but could they say more than that such an interpretation isn't the popular rabbinical one?

Indeed, once we allow ourselves to believe without needing evidence, we have, in a sense, opened the door for religious extremism. This is a harsh statement to make, and it must be read in the spirit in which it was written. Obviously, I am not claiming that all religions are the same, nor am I stupid enough to think all religions pose an equal threat to the continuance of our species. I am merely saying that faith as a principle, belief which "transcends" evidence, is a dangerous and uncertain path from which the human race should distance itself. We should try our best to expel such dogmas from our minds. We must demand evidence before accepting fantastical claims, or we run the very real risk of cultivating men and women who will do as we did -- that is, accept claims without evidence -- with simply, more adverse interpretations. This is a danger every religion, every faith-based dogma, poses to the world at large. To compare religions is certainly unfair and inaccurate, but to point to their common "thinking error" is perhaps the most important thing we can do. Such "thinking errors" are currently plunging parts of our world into a dark abyss, and making large strides towards complete annihilation of the human race.

Meaning in a Meaningless World

Upon leaving religion many people feel a sudden and rather terrifying loss of meaning in their lives. Since almost every religion informs man that he is part (a crucial part) of a divine plan, and that the universe and everything in it was created with him in mind, the very act of breathing for the believer becomes a meaningful one. For the believer, doing a good deed is forever recorded in heaven by an all-seeing Being who is intimately concerned and in love with him. His life is ever-infused with a divine purpose that supersedes this world entirely. Is there any meaning more fulfilling than believing oneself to be an emissary of the one true God?

It is therefore obvious, that someone who ascribed to these beliefs for part of his life will feel a blow to his ego unparalleled when he accepts, however reluctantly, that he is just a creature living a finite life, ever-awaiting the grave which may come at any time. His good deeds seem to lose their grandeur as does the whole of his being. The world begins to look gloomy. He becomes cynical about words like "hope." For a brief time his life may, in his mind, cease to matter.

I experienced these feelings upon the rejection of my childhood faith. I had spent 24 years engulfed in the "reality" of my beliefs, and "knew" that I was destined for greatness. I felt that I was an important part of the divine scheme and would constantly seek to uncover the purpose that I had been fashioned by God to accomplish. I would be lying if I said that it did not cross my mind once or twice that perhaps I was the Messiah. Every action that I carried out, I "knew" was of universal importance. I was mending a world filled with sin, a universe of darkness, and I was helping usher in the new age, the age of redemption.

When I left my faith I was broken. I would take long walks trying to understand life anew. How could the world have no meaning? How could my life have no meaning?

It did not take me too long to discover that it did, in fact, have meaning. Perhaps not the eternal and ultimate meaning I had attributed to my life before, but meaningful my life certainly was. To be there for my loved ones. To give to humanity. To be compassionate and kind. To seek truth relentlessly. To write and teach. To help others with their problems, however, I could. Yes, the meaning in my life was not hard to find once I understood what to look for. Of course, everything listed above can be stripped from me, however unlikely that may be, and therefore, the question arises: Is it worth anything at all?

This question is almost meaningless (pun intended) for it would be difficult to find a person who has no meaning to live for. He may not be aware of the meaning of his existence, as many of us are not, but he cannot say with certainty that his existence is futile.

Does life itself have meaning? Well no, but our subjective meaning should not be effected by this conclusion. In fact, we should realize how important it is for us to find meaning in our lives, for no one will do it for us. We must actively create the meaning in our lives. For some, spending their every waking moment reciting the words of a prayer book is meaningful. For others it is pushing the boundaries of the universe through scientific discovery. For yet others, it is creating something that will outlast them. To find, or rather create meaning, in my opinion, is the key to unlock what, for lack of a better word, can be called: Happiness.

Happiness may be a difficult word to define, as most words describing emotions are, but mankind has been relentlessly seeking it since the beginning of time. If we were to do a poll of people who claimed to be genuinely happy, I would be willing to bet, that the majority of them would quickly be able to define the meaning in their lives. The two are inseparable. I believe the sadness that so permeates many people, is due, at least in part, to a misunderstanding of the linkage between these two concepts. If we are going to be happy, we must have meaning.

Meaning need not be eternal nor of universal importance for it to matter. Subjective, finite meaning may be all we have, but it is more than enough. For the fact that something ends, does not rid it of it's potential meaning. How foolish is man who worries about the grave, whilst life passes him by! Though this is a common human failing which leads inevitably to despair, it can be rectified by simply being aware of life, and the meaning which you have cultivated within it. The pursuit should therefore be not of happiness, but of meaning.

If this is the only life we get, if we will all end up in the grave and be gone forever, should happiness not be the only goal of man? However, as I have presented here, happiness is not to be found without having meaning in one's life. The question of how to find meaning in a otherwise meaningless world deserves an essay of it's own, one I hope to write in the near future. I only wish to present here the importance of understanding that even though we may only live once, your life can have meaning. I also hoped to present the unbreakable connection between both meaning and happiness.

However, fleeting life may be, it can be meaningful, and we can be happy.

Religion Answers the "How" Questions

It is oft said that where science answers the "how" questions, religion answers the "why." Put another way, whereas how the world came to be, may eventually be answered, so to speak, in the laboratory, the question of why the world came to be, is one that is to be answered in a house of worship. Religious moderates will cite this as an attempt to show the equal importance of science and religion, as well as there compatibility. 

Richard Dawkins in his book "The God Delusion" chastises this way of thinking: 

"It is a tedious cliché (and, unlike many clichés, it isn't even true) that science concerns itself with the how questions, but only theology is equipped to answer why questions. What on Earth is a why question? Not every English sentence beginning with the word 'why' is a legitimate question. Why are unicorns hollow? Some questions simply do not deserve an answer." 

When I first read these words, I remember being swept away by their objective and rational precision. It was true, after all, that some questions are so outlandish that to answer them insults the person who wasted the time. Yet, are the "why" questions religion claims to answer as ridiculous as such questions as: Why are unicorns hollow? Does inquiring into the purpose of existence, seeking the meaning behind the universe constitute a question undeserving of an answer? In a completely rational sense, yes, these questions are as strange and irrelevant as to inquire into the nature of a unicorn's biology. Perhaps, they are unworthy of answering if we are judging questions by their practical applicability. 

However, as I once heard from Martin S. Jaffee, a recently retired Professor at the University of Washington who spent the majority of his career studying and teaching Judaism and comparative religion, "These questions are important because people are asking them." 

Jaffee was telling me that whether or not these questions are answerable, whether or not the answers religions have provided are true, we must address the fact that man, unlike any other species that we know of, has been asking these questions for centuries. These questions, therefore, are real, and of utmost importance. Yet, we must ask: Can they really be accurately answered?

Dawkins seems to preempt this challenge and closes the paragraph quoted above with: "Nor, even if the question is a real one, does the fact that science cannot answer it imply that religion can." This, in my opinion, is a far more accurate objection to religion's "how/why" sentiment. 

Let us, for a moment, accept that perhaps religion is capable of answering the seemingly unanswerable "why"questions of man. Is that really all religion attempts to do? Is the Bible really just a moral guide making no claims as to the nature of the world? 

Upon brief reflection, or rather upon glancing at the very first verse in Genesis, one will discover the fallacy of such a statement. Genesis 1:1 begins with the "fact" that: "In the beginning God created the heavens and earth." Is this not a claim as to the nature of the universe? Whether God exists or not is a fact, perhaps an impossible one to prove in any scientific sense of the word, but it is, or is not, a fact. Whether or not such a Being created the earth and is constantly attentive to it, is yet another fact, or not, about the world. 

The Bible recounts many times that the Divine Hand intervened with the natural course of events. God allegedly caused water to turn to blood, hail to come crashing onto the Egyptians property, and all the Egyptian firstborns to simultaneously fall over dead. Not to mention perhaps the most glamorous of all the miracles, that of the splitting of the sea. Where, according to the Bible, the Israelites marched through the raging sea on dry land. These were but a few miracles of the plethora found in the biblical narrative of the Exodus. Are these not meant to be read as accurate accounts of history? Are we to read these supernatural events as mere metaphors? 

It may be impossible to answer any of the "why" questions without making certain "how" claims, but that does not justify making claims about the universe without evidence. Therefore, if religion truly wants to answer the "why" it may have to either admit it's rejection of science, or be quiet. 

It would seem that up until science destroyed the "scientific" claims made by the Bible, religion was able to claim to know the "how" of the universe as well. Once science advanced to a point able to challenge the origins of the world, as well as it's age, religious moderates were forced (reluctantly in some cases) to resort to religion's comforting values. Though science has answered, or is in hot pursuit of answering the "how" of the entire world, religion will always be able to comfort man's searching soul with the "why" answers. This, religion claims, was always their intention. 

Science of course, will not be able to take away these "powers" from religion, for science does not, nor will it ever, pretend to know the unknowable. As of now however, science has shown that chances are, there isn't a "why" to be worried about. Though this conclusion, if it is indeed true, is uncomfortable and will leave the contemplative rather disappointed, there is some good to be found in it. Mankind can stop worrying about why we are here, and instead focus on the fact that we are, and get to planning what we should do about it.
    
The point is, whether or not religion is comforting to the "why" questions that so plague humanity, we need to face the reality that religion was not meant to simply answer such questions, but attempted at answering the "how" questions as well. Lucky for mankind, science broke through these answers and found them to be what they are: primitive guesses made by men who were collectively more ignorant about the universe than a child in the grade school today. 

That religion was only meant to answer the "why" questions is a thinly veiled attempt to distract from the fact that for centuries they had professed absolute knowledge of the "how" questions, as well. They were effectively, through openminded inquiry, proven to be utterly mistaken. The Bible is an attempt of man to understand the earth (which was thought then to be flat). Today, ancient poorly-educated guesses should be considered for nothing more than an accurate account of how man thought before he knew basically anything about the universe.