Nothing Held Sacred: The Secular Society

The crash of shattering glass startled students walking near the Science Center on Friday the 13th last fall.

But for the then one-year-old Harvard Secular Society (HSS), breaking mirrors and walking beneath ladders--in an elaborate "Vent by Smashing Superstition Bash"--was supposed to be no big deal.

"We wanted to poke fun at religion, superstition and supernaturalism," says HSS President Christopher M. Kirchhoff '01.

While societies to debate religion are nearly as old as debate itself, HSS attempts to bring a level of humor and irreverence to the age-old question of belief. But some claim the group's cheeky skepticism runs the risk of creating more alienation than insight.

The HSS brochure, for instance, is titled "Holy Shit," in large, bold letters. Inside the brochure is a satirical question/answer session with God. One question reads "Does God love me?"

The answer: "The Bible teaches us that God's love is boundless, unconditional and all-encompassing. The Bible also teaches us that God can be a vindictive SOB... So frankly I wouldn't believe too much what the Bible says."

Kirchhoff laughingly describes the brochure as " iconoclast humor." But it also prompted an evangelical Protestant like Matthew C. Stevens '01, a member of the group Christian Impact, to explore HSS a little further.

"At the introductory meeting last year, I was disappointed with the lack of integrity of the group. While peppering the meeting with belittling jokes...toward Christians, [the past HSS president]] still tried to maintain that he wanted to engage Christians in honest discussions about truth," Stevens says.

"However, under Kirchhoff's leadership, I think the group as a whole is moving away from this inconsistent double-identity," he continues.

HSS leaders view their style as simply another way to attract attention to the group.

"There is other stuff that we do, we're not just a group of pranksters," says HSS Executive Director Shankar Duraiswarmy '02.

Indeed, HSS participates in serious debates with campus religious organizations like the Harvard-Radcliffe Christian Fellowship (HRCF), in what Stevens describes as "a relationship that thrives on conflict."

Last spring, for instance, HSS and HRCF sparred over the existence of a Benevolent Creator in a "Does God Exist?" debate.

"We both share a passion for not shying away from discussions of spiritual truth and reality," Stevens says. "HSS provides a good forum for people who really do care about engaging these issues intellectually."

But beyond the cross-examination-style face-offs, HSS attracts a steady following of students interested in exploring the boundaries between science and theology.

"We have adversarial debates, but we also have gentler discussions,"

says Kirchhoff, who is also a Crimson editor. "A lot of students are interested in our group because the many traditions here force us to examine what we believe in and why."

A vocal group is necessary to represent non-believers, who are an oft-overlooked minority, Duraiswarmy says.

"Atheists rank pretty low on the food chain in mainstream America," Duraiswarmy says. "It is important, at least on a symbolic level, that this club does exist."

One of HSS's slogans reads "Question Everything," and the group disregards taboo in order to do just that.

"We give a forum to feel free to exercise beliefs, or non-beliefs, without being pressured," Kirchhoff says.

But as nothing is held sacred, the organization often skirts the fine line dividing playful irreverence and tastelessness.

"Any organization built upon denying faith has to have a good degree of cynicism, but cynicism is not an enjoyable thing to be motivated by, so you need to revel in it," says Matthew J. Peed '00, a HRCF member.

Besides, being able to laugh is valuable.

"There is a certain humility to laughter," Peed adds. "Some things about religion are simply pretty funny."