What I do today is as likely to set the stage for what I feel tomorrow as anything that has happened earlier in my life.

It is a real question

whether the universe and I

can ultimately be

at odds, 

considering the degree

to which we are 

aspects of 

each other.

The universe must not be indifferent to suffering, at least to the extent that I, also, am an instance of the universe, and express its nature as much as anything else does. It cannot be described as devoid of concern for personal, human existence, for comfort or for nurture. At the same time, that quality of the universe that I might characterize as disinterest or detachment--whether cruel or placid--lives also in the background radiation of my own soul. 

There is no laboratory so tightly sealed (or, for that matter, no thought so private or subjectivity so deep) that the signature of the surrounding universe, including everything from the Big Bang to the leaven of my own consciousness, does not seep in, inform, and influence what happens inside, as freely as if the walls and everything inside were merely expressions of the same universe--which they are. Nor can what happens inside fail to shape both the events and meaning of the universe in which it occurs. 

If I do not at some point become peaceful, the likelihood of eventually finding myself in a peaceful place is zero. Whether I am on earth, in hell, or in heaven, I retain within myself final veto power over any proposal for peace with which I might be presented. 

My horror at this destruction of ancient things puts me in touch with the degree to which "culture" is a sacred category to me (as I know it is for many others, as well). These cultural artifacts connect me with the mystery that our existence retains, the wondering of our ancestors, and my wonder about our ancestors. They are religious to me, whether or not they are explicitly religious in themselves. ISIS's destruction of them shocks me as an exaggerated and distorted example of our dumb tendency as a species to reduce mystery to a single-line answer. The single answer is an idol--despite the fact it is offered as the destroyer of idols--except to the extent it as big and mysterious as nature and humanity itself, and embraces them both as indispensable, irreplaceable, and precious.

http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2015/03/isis-destroys-ancient-art.html

From my vantage-point, I see every conscious human, theistic or otherwise, relying on things that can't be proven. Faith is a pervasive aspect of existence – though there are many different kinds of it. Even to say that life and humanity have value relies on things I cannot prove. 

This pervasiveness of faith to normal living has not gone unrecognized in Western philosophy. David Hume, for example, in one fell swoop, demolished classic and medieval arguments for the existence of God, alongside all scientific certainties that rely on assumptions from inductive reasoning – and simultaneously demonstrated that an act of faith (relying on the occurrence of something that can't ever be proven as certain) is involved in every single instant of normal living. Far from being a criticism, though, under normal circumstances, I consider such believing necessary and appropriate. I think Alvin Plantinga, with his articulation of the notion of "properly basic beliefs," has some reasonable things to say along these lines (though I'm not invested in the exact outcomes of this process for him).

If we make our sole criterion for the reasonability or unreasonability of faith to be whether something can be proven, then I think we all fall flat: myself, you, Sam Harris, ISIS. We need to be able to make distinctions amongst different kinds of belief, if we are to do more than roundly shut out a whole aspect of human experience – and lose our basis for making positive or negative judgments about how it manifests. So, for example, we can can ask questions like:

1) Does the belief ask me to accept something which is irrational or fallacious? On the other hand, does it ask me to accept something which, though not strictly irrational, is not subject to empirical verification?

2) Do the things believed in contradict what I know to be true from other sources, such as that which is evident to my senses?

3) If so, do I have grounds for believing that these other sources, or my senses, may be providing misleading information?

4) If it asks me to accept something not subject to empirical verification, are the difficulties of verifying it time-conditioned, so that they may be resolved as further observations accrue? Or, is this something that can never be conclusively observed from within our ordinary space time perspective? 

5) Is the belief negative, neutral, or positive with regard to information from other sources? For example, "negative" would mean it contradicts or asks me to disregard something told through these other sources; "neutral" would be a belief that is indifferent to what I know from these other sources; "positive" would be something that enhances my engagement with what comes from these other sources. (For some, for example, the belief that God has created a material universe governed by definite laws actually incites them to pursue empirical study.)

6) Similarly, we can ask whether the belief is negative, neutral, or positive with regard to other values. For example, does the believe cause me to put aside what is considered valuable about things like life and humanity? Or, do the beliefs incite me to more fully explore and live out these values?

7) Do practices and behaviors that grow out of this belief facilitate healthy and vibrant personal, social, and ecological life, or do they create dead ends and obstructions to development in these spheres – including even the extreme possibility that they actually encourage destruction? 

This is just a start. I could come up with more points than this. The point is that I do not see the crude rejection of all faith as being useful at all towards helping us understand what factors lead us to be more or less all that we can aspire to and be as human beings.

For better or for worse, we are never merely ourselves when we are living under the influence of an intoxicating ideal (LUIII). To some extent, at such times, we let loose the reigns of self and turn them over to another. This is true whether the ideal can be described as political, religious, moral, cultural, intellectual, or aesthetic. We should draw attention to the risks inherent in this, and consider awareness of these risks to be an important form of sobriety. 

As is the case when we consume alcohol or other drugs, we have the responsibility to monitor and manage the behaviors that emerge from ourselves while under the influence of such ideals. Whatever the behaviors may be, it is appropriate that we be considered accountable for them. If we are not assured of our ability or willingness to do so, perhaps we should consider not imbibing in the first place.