He starts off by saying:

There have been some very vocal atheists who’ve pointed out, not just that religion is wrong, but that it’s ridiculous. These people, many of whom have lived in North Oxford, have argued –they’ve argued that believing in God is akin to believing in fairies and essentially that the whole thing is a childish game. Now I think it’s too easy. I think it’s too easy to dismiss the whole of religion that way. And it’s as easy as shooting fish in a barrel.

…And for me, atheism 2.0 is about both, as I say, a respectful and an impious way of going through religions and saying, “What here could we use?” The secular world is full of holes. We have secularized badly, I would argue. And a thorough study of religion could give us all sorts of insights into areas of life that are not going too well. And I’d like to run through a few of these today.

A couple things he said that I enjoyed:

On the moon

Take the Moon. It’s really important to look at the Moon. You know, when you look at the Moon, you think, “I’m really small. What are my problems?” It sets things into perspective, etc., etc. We should all look at the Moon a bit more often. We don’t. Why don’t we? Well there’s nothing to tell us, “Look at the Moon.” But if you’re a Zen Buddhist in the middle of September, you will be ordered out of your home, made to stand on a canonical platform and made to celebrate the festival of Tsukimi, where you will be given poems to read in honor of the Moon and the passage of time and the frailty of life that it should remind us of. You’ll be handed rice cakes. And the Moon and the reflection on the Moon will have a secure place in your heart. That’s very good.

On Art

Let’s look at art now. Now art is something that in the secular world, we think very highly of. We think art is really, really important….

The two really bad ideas that are hovering in the modern world that inhibit our capacity to draw strength from art: The first idea is that art should be for art’s sake — a ridiculous idea — an idea that art should live in a hermetic bubble and should not try to do anything with this troubled world. I couldn’t disagree more. The other thing that we believe is that art shouldn’t explain itself, that artists shouldn’t say what they’re up to, because if they said it, it might destroy the spell and we might find it too easy. That’s why a very common feeling when you’re in a museum — let’s admit it — is, “I don’t know what this is about.” But if we’re serious people, we don’t admit to that. But that feeling of puzzlement is structural to contemporary art.

Now religions have a much saner attitude to art. They have no trouble telling us what art is about. Art is about two things in all the major faiths. Firstly, it’s trying to remind you of what there is to love. And secondly, it’s trying to remind you of what there is to fear and to hate. And that’s what art is. Art is a visceral encounter with the most important ideas of your faith. So as you walk around a church, or a mosque or a cathedral, what you’re trying to imbibe, what you’re imbibing is, through your eyes, through your senses, truths that have otherwise come to you through your mind.

On mystery and awe

CA: But you left out one aspect of religion that a lot of people might say your agenda could borrow from, which is this sense — that’s actually probably the most important thing to anyone who’s religious — of spiritual experience, of some kind of connectionwith something that’s bigger than you are. Is there any room for that experience in Atheism 2.0?

AB: Absolutely. I, like many of you, meet peoplewho say things like, “But isn’t there something bigger than us, something else?” And I say, “Of course.” And they say, “So aren’t you sort of religious?” And I go, “No.” Why does that sense of mystery, that sense of the dizzying scale of the universe, need to be accompanied by a mystical feeling? Science and just observation gives us that feeling without it, so I don’t feel the need. The universe is large and we are tiny, without the need for further religious superstructure. So one can have so-called spiritual moments without belief in the spirit.

Jad: “How has this little event changed you?”

Liza: “Well I’m still working with those mice… and now when I go into that room with that little lazer, I just really empathise with them…. yeah I’ve been thinking a lot about that.”

You’d have to listen to that episode to understand that last part. Not a particularly amazing episode… just enjoyed that snippet.

Life should be lived on the edge of life. You have to exercise rebellion: to refuse to tape yourself to rules, to refuse your own success, to refuse to repeat yourself, to see every day, every year, every idea as a true challenge - and then you are going to live your life on a tightrope. - Philippe Petit

This is from a Radiolab episode titled "Morality."

There's a mother who comes in to drop her son off at school and arrives early. The teacher invites her into this closet where she could watch her son from a hidden glass window where the kids couldn't see them. She was watching them and suddenly saw her son tackle his best friend. Everyone gathered around. The kid was laying on the ground and when he got up he had a bloody lip. "He was mortified and scared by his own actions," the mother said. At that moment she says she regretted not having gone in and doing anything. But her sister said, "the best thing you did was stay out of it."

"Jack had to see the consequences of his own actions on his own terms."

http://www.radiolab.org/2007/aug/13/

The greater and stronger a man is the more he would be inclined to prostrate himself before a periwinkle.

That Mr. Shaw keeps a lifted
head and a contemptuous face before the colossal panorama of empires
and civilizations, this does not in itself convince one that he sees
things as they are. I should be most effectively convinced that he did
if I found him staring with religious astonishment at his own feet.
“What are those two beautiful and industrious beings,” I can imagine him
murmuring to himself, “whom I see everywhere, serving me I know not why?
What fairy godmother bade them come trotting out of elfland when I
was born? What god of the borderland, what barbaric god of legs,
must I propitiate with fire and wine, lest they run away with me?”

The truth is, that all genuine appreciation rests on a certain
mystery of humility and almost of darkness. The man who said,
“Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall not be disappointed,”
put the eulogy quite inadequately and even falsely. The truth “Blessed
is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall be gloriously surprised.”
The man who expects nothing sees redder roses than common men can see,
and greener grass, and a more startling sun. Blessed is he that
expecteth nothing, for he shall possess the cities and the mountains;
blessed is the meek, for he shall inherit the earth. Until we
realize that things might not be we cannot realize that things are.
Until we see the background of darkness we cannot admire the light
as a single and created thing. As soon as we have seen that darkness,
all light is lightening, sudden, blinding, and divine.
Until we picture nonentity we underrate the victory of God,
and can realize none of the trophies of His ancient war.
It is one of the million wild jests of truth that we know nothing
until we know nothing.

- GK Chesterton

In short, as it seems to me, it matters very little whether a man is discontented in the name of pessimism or progress, if his discontent does in fact paralyse his power of appreciating what he has got. The real difficulty of man is not to enjoy lamp-posts or landscapes, not to enjoy dandelions or chops; but to enjoy enjoyment. To keep the capacity of really liking what he likes;

After all, although God often speaks of rejecting prayer in the absence of justice, God never speaks of rejecting justice in the absence of prayer. (p. 20)

Instead, they [the prophets] insist that God does not want prayer, ritual, liturgy, or sacrifice, but wants instead that righteous justice rule not only the land of Israel, but all the earth. (p. 14)

...Surely one might pay for extraordinary joy in ordinary morals. Oscar Wilde said that sunsets were not valued because we could not pay for sunsets. But Oscar Wilde was wrong; we can pay for sunsets. We can pay for them by not being Oscar WIlde.

...It has taken me a long time to find out that the modern world is wrong and my nurse was right. The really curious thing was this: that modern thought contradicted this basic creed of my boyhood on its two most essential doctrines. I have explained that the fairy tales founded in me two convictions; first, that this world is a wild and startling place, which might have been quite different, but which is quite delightful; second, that before this wildness and delight one may well be modest and submit to the queerest limitations of so queer a kindness.