Separation of Church From - wait, "from?"

Now Serving an unfinished Rough Draft, and bad philosophy jokes

I'm finding "from" to be one of those words that sounds odd when you really look at it. That's not at all the reason why I used it in the title of this post. But it's time to do some old school philosophy - philosophy that's done because of having time on your hands. (The kind that's a little amateurish, too, unless you yourself are old school enough to be founding the subject...)

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The separation of church and state is generally understood to be a two-way wall, preventing each side from interfering with the business of the other. But when there's talk of religion interfering with government, it almost always seems that we're talking about those sneaky Evangelical Christians implementing sinister plots of theocratic purpose. I have yet to see any consideration of the idea that the whole of American religious beliefs, acting in unison, might interfere with the government. It follows obviously that I've neither seen any consideration of that idea without its being immediately judged a bad one.

So, going against every bone in my very secular body (eh, it's late), I'd like to entertain, without passing judgement upon, the idea of a national council representing all (or most) American religious beliefs.

I use "religious beliefs" rather than "religions" to clarify my meaning: Atheism and Agnosticism are no more religions than black and white are colors, but they're certainly beliefs regarding religion. (This should additionally make clear that beliefs*, as I use the word, may be based in fact as well as faith.) So this national religious council would not be limited to religions like Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, etc.; Atheism, Agnosticism, Secular Humanism, and all manner of beliefs regarding religion would have a place on the council.

With that in mind, we come to the first objection: if all religious beliefs are represented, doesn't this council actually represent every single American, and thereby become an absurdly redundant expansion of government? Again, the meaning of "religious beliefs" should be clarified: not all people are involved with their own religious belief. There are millions of casual Christians who hardly ever attend church, atheists who have gone their entire lives without significant religious exposure, and Jews who are confused every time their dad calls to wish them a happy new year outside of January. (Sorry dad!**) I maintain that this kind of casual belief doesn't really constitute a belief at all: casual believers (as I use "casual") necessarily haven't considered the possibility that their beliefs are wrong, are not regularly involved with their belief-groups, and have not experienced a significant spiritual experience (or in secular cases, have not experienced a significant epiphany related to their belief). There are ambiguities with that definition, but they do not hinder its service of my argument. Regardless of where we draw my definition's line on the spectrums of regularity and significance, it's uncontroversial that some people exist who meet all of those criteria.

(I should clarify that a true believer can be unchallenged, irregular or inexperienced - as per the criteria above - but cannot be all at once.)

Having distinguished between casual and true believers, and having limited our national religious council to the representation of true believers, the council is no longer a repetition of existing government. It does face a new problem, however, which may be at the heart of the matter: if the council only represents true believers, it necessarily gives true believers more power than casual believers. Is that something that we want?

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That's not the end of the essay, but it seems that my leisure time is at an end: I need to get some sleep, and that last question opens up a can of worms that might be more accurately described as a can of graboids. And if you're wondering where to follow those asterisks (now there's a funny word), I couldn't figure out where to put them, the essay not having reached its end. So I saved the, uh...you know...what do you call the thingies that asterisks lead to? Yeah, they're in a TextEdit document waiting for me to finish up here.

RCAH 292 - What Matters

I'm initially at a loss to answer the question, "What Matters?" This alone gives some credence to the argument of Peter Block: that we don't prioritize things that matter enough. It also highlights what seems to be Block's strongest handicap, which is the ambiguity of his writing in The Answer to How is Yes.

To answer Block's questions, we first have to grasp exactly what he's talking about. Frequently using words with controversial or multiple meanings, making generalizations, and staying wholly in the abstract, this text requires some charitable reconstruction. With that in mind, we can take the questions Block presents and articulate the arguments within them.

1. There is more than one acceptable method to accomplish a given task, and our doubts are hindrances to our achieving well-being.

2 & 3. We universally prioritize expediency, and fail to evaluate the amount of commitment - not just in time and money, but in emotional capital - we're willing to make to a given task.

4. In order to enact change, we must take responsibility for our own contributions to the problem and potential solution, rather than dwell overlong on the failures of others.

5. We place too much value on tangible, measurable results, and not enough on personal meaning or things that matter.

6. The experiences of other people are relied upon overmuch in the evaluation of a plan or change, and we should concern ourselves more with what we're trying to achieve.

The underlying theme of all these arguments is a one-dimensional spectrum of sorts in which practicality is pitted against "the experience of being a human being and all that entails," Block's definition of what matters. Despite an abundance of blanket statements to the contrary, Block maintains that practical concerns are valid - just overdone, whereas we spend too little time on philosophical or abstract concerns.

We can return to the original question now with some idea of what that question's meaning is. There can be a personal element to it - with "what matters" varying from person to person - but in the context of this book, it refers to human creativity, ethics, and ideals. Applying that question to my own values - as all way-of-life philosophies should be tested - the answer would be "to pursue political justice, appreciate the experience of life, and weigh every action against those long-term goals." All these are concepts I already aim for; in as much as The Answer to How contributes to them, it helps their cause.