Flying Spaghetti Monster

Should freedom of religion apply to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster?

Photo by Lars van den Brink

This post is based on an article I published in the Dutch Christian magazine “De Nieuwe Koers” (“The New Course”). I wrote this article in response to an op-ed, in which a theologian, a rabbi and a professor in law all three claimed that freedom of religion should not apply to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

Taede Smedes is a religion philosopher, a theologian, and a publicist. He wonders whether Pastafarianism is a religion or a parody. This suggests that it’s a choice – you can be a religion or a parody, but not both. Taede Smedes himself is “a religion philosopher, a theologian, and a publicist” – all at the same time. Protestantism, for example, is a religion, that started as a protest. It went as far as to adopt Protest as part of its name. Is it a protest or a religion? If Taede Smedes and Protestantism can be many things at the same time, why can’t Pastafarianism be a religion AND a parody simultaneously?

Lody van de Kamp is a rabbi. Based on Pastafarian use of symbols to represent their deity (spaghetti and meatballs, which can be vegetarian, too), the rabbi claims that Pastafarianism is merely a parody on religion, and freedom of religion is not intended for parodies. Hinduism has millions of gods, in the weirdest shapes. Is a Flying Spaghetti Monster really stranger than a god who has the pink body of a man, four arms and the hear of an elephant? Or does the rabbi claim that freedom of religion is not meant for 1.5 billion Hindu’s? Lodi van de Kamp asks Pastafarians not to claim ‘rights that they do not grant others’. But it is he who does not grant Pastafarianism recognition as a religion. Pastafarianism has holy texts, holidays, rituals, millions of followers and world-wide recognition. What else does the rabbi need to recognize Pastafarianism as a religion?

Sophie van Bijsterveld is professor in Religion, law and society at the Radboud University in Nijmegen. She finds it absolutely just that the Dutch court did not recognize Pastafarianism as a religion or a view of life. Pastafarianism supposedly lacks sufficient ‘seriousness’. First of all, she’s got the facts wrong. The Dutch court, in fact, recognized Pastafarianism as a ‘view of life’, putting it on par with atheism, pacifism and humanism. But even if it didn’t – in Austria, New Zealand, Germany, Switzerland and other countries Pastafarianism is recognized as a religion. The Holy Colander is accepted as religious headgear in these, and other countries.  In New Zealand and Canada Pastafarian priests can conduct legally binding wedding ceremonies. Apparently, in all these countries Pastafarianism is viewed as sufficiently ‘serious’. What makes the Netherlands that much different than New Zealand or Austria? How come the seriousness of Pastafarianism stops at the Dutch border?

 

Flying Spaghetti Monster, The Eight I’d Really Rather You Didn’ts.

#3 I’d Really Rather You Didn’t judge people for the way they look…

Pirates dont change diapers
Pastafarians also have holy books

Since we share 99.99% of our DNA with pirates, we believe we descend from pirates, and consider them holy beings. Just like pirates, our holy ancestors, we Pastafarians have a sort of Pirate Code. We are guided in life by the Eight I’d Really Rather You Didn’ts, also known as The Eight Condiments. According to the Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, Mosey the Pirate captain  received ten stone tablets as advice from the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Of these original ten “I’d Really Rather You Didn’ts”, two were dropped on the way down from Mount Salsa. This event partly accounts for Pastafarians’ flimsy moral standards. As anyone knows, the pirate code is more what you’d call “guidelines” than actual rules. That is why these are not commands, but more of recommendations.

I, too, try to live my life according to these simple, yet efficient recommendations. And daily I come across examples of the wisdom entombed in these humble words of Our Lord and Savior, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, who boiled for our since and blessed us with Parmesan to sprinkle upon our daily pasta. Allow me to share with you an example, showing the importance of the 3rd I’d Really Rather You Didn’t – I’d Really Rather You Didn’t judge people for the way they look, or how they dress, or the way they talk, or, well, just play nice, okay?

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I was traveling by train. As befits a priest, I was travelling first class. A young man boarded the train and sat across the isle. As my eye fell upon the young man, I confess my mistake, I forgot the 3rd I’d Really Rather You Didn’t. His appearance was not very neat and I doubted he really belongs in the first class carriage. The young man’s trousers were not clean, his shoes were rather worn, and his general appearance was rather shabby. Luckily, I remembered the 3rd I’d Really Rather You Didn’t. I held my tongue, and was embarrassed at my swift passing of judgement upon this young man, whom I didn’t know. Who was I to disapprove of him just because of his appearance? Just minutes later, the conductor entered the carriage to check our tickets. Then and there I was proven wrong! The young man, whom I though to have a second class ticket had no ticket at all!

So you see how important it is to remember the danger of assumptions we make, based on partial faces and prejudgments. Even priests of His Noodliness are not free of assumptions, and need to be reminded once in a while that they should stay humble, and keep studying and applying the Eight I’d Really Rather You Didn’ts. Ramen!