After the Charlie Hebdo massacre, Pope Francis—until then doing pretty well, as far as medieval theocratic monarchs go—stated that “One cannot insult other people’s faith, one cannot make fun of faith. There is a limit. Every religion has its dignity … in freedom of expression there are limits.” The presumption of religious people that they should be entitled to protection from offence, that the sincerity or depth of their belief provides them with some kind of right to protection from ridicule is hardly news. But there is an element which I think is not often stressed when this is discussed, and so I’m going to do it here.
As I’ve previously mentioned, when I indulge myself in a little poking of fun at religion, I generally choose the leaders, institutes, and dogmas as my targets, and avoid directly mocking individual believers: but this is largely because I’m a nice person, because I think the ends are better achieved by exposing the system to ridicule rather than the practitioners. But I am utterly convinced of my right to ridicule individual believers should I choose and, of course, even when I am directing my mockery at the institutions, it is not a hugely inaccurate inferential jump for willing members of those institutions to take this personally. And if you think I’m calling you a fool then you should bear in mind, for starters, that this is precisely what your religion calls me.
I’m sorry, kinda, if you’re offended. But the point of this post is to say that if you are, then you’re also kinda missing a trick: because there is, at least as far as the monotheistic creeds are concerned, nothing that I can say about them that is as offensive as what they say about me. On this side choirs of angels, on the other, the gaping maw of hell: and there can be little doubt which gate I am headed towards. That’s not a very nice thing to say, but especially not when coupled with the regular assertions of the supreme mercy and justice of God. Yet no atheist demands defense from this most abusive of insults: we are routinely condemned to deserving hellfire and damnation in churches, synagogues, and mosques throughout the world—and it is not hard to see how many have interpreted this (not without scriptural authority) historically and contemporaneously as a call to enact God’s vengeance in this world.
Your faith, my monotheistic friend, says that not only will I suffer an eternity of agony but also that, given the supreme mercy and justice of God, this is precisely what I deserve. So next time you fret that I have suggested that I think that you may be credulous, a fool, or a hypocrite; that the dogmas of your institutions are incoherent and their practices perverse; just stop a moment before crying offence: because your religion freely and repeatedly says about me—expressed not even as an opinion, but as a matter of fact—that I am so hideously, egregiously, despicably vile that even a merciful and all-loving God cannot find it in Himself to save me from perdition.
There’s not a lot, really, that I can say about you that equals that.