Faith is merely belief without evidence; a process of active non-thinking.

That definition is nonsense. Religious people do not believe the things they believe without any evidence. There is scripture, there are millions of believers in the present and the past, there is personal experience, there are observations made throughout life that confirm the religious worldview… If that is the definition of faith, then no-one has it — that kind of “faith” doesn’t exist.

Of course not much of this “evidence” is empirically solid. Scripture was written by fallible human hands. Millions of people believing something is evidence of the strength and persistence of the idea believed in, not that it is empirically provable fact. Personal experience and observations made through life is inherently flawed by the observer’s various biases. None of this evidence for religious faith is actually scientifically acceptable as evidence, but it is still evidence. Psychologically.

That does indeed turn this into a semantic argument, what do we call evidence and what don’t we call evidence? I mean, what’s the difference between “belief based on invalid evidence” and “belief without evidence” anyway? A lot, in fact. When we’re talking about humans, about practical living, rather than some academic and abstract idea toyed with in an ivory tower. There is so much more to “faith” than that reductionist-rationalist definition suggests.

My biggest gripe with that definition is probably that I feel it shuts down the important conversations we should be having, that it incorrectly pigeon-holes those with religious faith, that it promotes a lack of understanding on the inter-personal level.

Up next: So that’s what faith is not, to my mind. Next post I’ll touch on what faith is. To my mind.

Incidentally, I missed this blog’s third birthday yesterday. I think it’s old enough to start shunning birthdays, to let them pass without much fanfare. Besides, I didn’t have much to write right now that was birthday-worthy.

1. (uncountable) Extreme exaggeration or overstatement; especially as a literary or rhetorical device.
2. (uncountable) Deliberate exaggeration.
3. (countable) An instance or example of this technique.
4. (countable, obsolete) A hyperbola.

Usage notes

• When used as a literary device, hyperbole is an exaggeration that, while not intended to be taken literally, still describes a situation or image that is at least feasible or possible. Exaggeration that is considered impossible is called adynaton.

  Examples: “I have been waiting for hours for the end of your ‘short’ coffee break.” is a hyperbole while “I have been waiting for ages for the end of your ‘short’ coffee break.” is an adynaton.

• This distinction is not always observed, even in textbooks.

See wiktionary for more, or consider wikipedia as well, which says, amongst other things:

It may be used to evoke strong feelings or to create a strong impression, but is not meant to be taken literally. [...] Hyperbole is used to create emphasis. It is a literary device often used in poetry, and is frequently encountered in casual speech.

I use hyperbole when I write, and often it gives me headaches. “Will this post be read by and responded to by some pedantic literalist that can’t stand any figures of speech? Maybe. Should I include a disclaimer pointing out it is an intentional exaggeration?”

No, I don’t want to. It’s a pain and disclaimers ruin posts. My goal is to use hyperbole correctly, sparingly, usefully. If I too liberally sprinkle hyperbole, call me on it, and I’ll reduce it. I should be using it only when it is reasonable to expect native English speakers to understand it correctly.

And the goal with this particular post is to have something to point people at (thus a disclaimer that applies to all future posts), and possibly a place to discuss hyperbole in general, when it’s useful, when it isn’t, etc.