I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to Matt Riezman for sharing his thoughts on the Freethought Society in the Nov. 1 issue of the Daily. As a new student organization which has yet to sponsor any major events or release any publications, there is a very low level of awareness of what the Freethought Society is, or that it even exists. I must therefore thank Mr. Riezman for raising awareness of the Freethought Society, if only just a bit, by addressing the organization in his letter to the Daily last week.
I'll take this opportunity, then, to briefly explain what the Freethought Society at Tufts is: In short, the Freethought Society is a student organization that provides a community for, and promotes the interests of, self-identifying nonreligious students. It would be a mistake to think that we are simply a bunch of disgruntled atheists united against religion; rather, we promote and explore a whole range of philosophies including but not limited to naturalism, secularism, humanism and skepticism.
What are the positive effects of religion on society? What are its negative effects? Where did it come from, how did it get there and where is it heading? Obviously, these are all extremely large questions, and given the vast variety of faiths around the globe, it is impossible to explore all of them at once. The least we can do, then, is investigate them bit by bit.
Therefore, given our interest in religion, it was quite surprising to see Mr. Riezman accuse the Freethought Society of holding "the minority view that religion does not exist." We certainly like to consider ourselves skeptics at the Freethought Society, but by no means are we that skeptical.
In fact, each and every member of the Freethought Society firmly believes that religion is a very real and very influential part of human culture around the world. To be fair, though, I suspect that Mr. Riezman misspoke in his letter, so the Freethought Society is wholly forgiving of that accusation.
A bit more disconcerting, however, is the accusation that we find religion to be "scary," and documentaries about Christianity to be "terrifying." Now, I can't fault Mr. Riezman for getting that impression of the Freethought Society, for we did in fact describe the films as "terrifying" on Tuftslife.com.
As an attempt to explain that characterization, I would like to offer the suggestion that, as with haunted houses, trashy horror movies, demonic costumes and just about any other typical Halloween tradition, our screening of these so-called "disturbing documentaries" was not so much about genuine fear as it was about having fun. And indeed, I found the films to be quite fun to watch, and I hope the other viewers had fun watching them as well.
However, I will not be accused of using the "it was a joke" defense, so rather than making that suggestion, I will offer the following clarification about the exhibited films:
"Hell House" (2001) is not a documentary about Christianity in the sense that it informs the viewer about typical Christian beliefs, values or traditions. Rather, "Hell House," is a documentary about a yearly festival held in Texas which, in the spirit of anti-drug campaigns, graphically depicts the worst possible consequences of engaging in various "sins."
Of course, parents have the right to teach their own values and beliefs to their children, but I can't help being disturbed when a church-run festival overtly suggests that AIDS is the direct consequence of homosexuality. Nor can I help feeling disturbed when adults in positions of authority seriously tell children that they will suffer for eternity if they do not accept Jesus Christ.
Although it should be obvious, I somehow feel obligated to point out that, yes, we know not all denominations of Christianity preach those doctrines.
As for "Jesus Camp" (2006), one need not be nonreligious to find Becky Fischer's advocacy of fundamentalism rather worrying; indeed, a major component of the film features a Christian radio host discussing his qualms with Fischer's movement.
Films aside, by far the most troubling accusation made by Mr. Riezman in his letter to the editor is his suggestion that the Freethought Society is a hateful organization. It is rather interesting that, after consciously abstaining from Islamo-fascism Awareness Week, the Freethought Society nevertheless finds itself subject to the same accusations of intolerance as The Primary Source. I understand that many opponents of Islamo-fascism Awareness Week never bought the argument of "We're not against all Muslims, we're just against militant extremists," so I predict that Mr. Riezman and anyone who agrees with him won't accept similar arguments from the Freethought Society.
Therefore, in order to avoid bickering and to encourage substantive debate, let us suppose momentarily that the Freethought Society and its Halloween fun was as hateful as Mr. Riezman suggests. If that is the case, then I must make two requests of my fellow students. First, I ask that you demonstrate a small amount of faith in some of your peers and believe us when we say that the Freethought Society has no intention of promoting hatred on campus.
Second, I am asking for your help in finding an appropriate way of criticizing religion. How does one speak against any component of any faith, mainstream or extreme, without being subjected to accusations of bigotry or hatred? Islamo-fascism Awareness Week wasn't good enough. Halloween film-screenings weren't good enough. So what is good enough?
I ask this not just to Mr. Riezman, but to the Tufts community as a whole. I am willing and eager to play by your rules of etiquette if it means we can move this discussion forward in a fashion that doesn't constantly devolve into name-calling and mutual accusations of rudeness.
Richard Sanchez is a sophomore and the Acting Programming Director of the Freethought Society at Tufts.
