it's all dhamma.

But “the New Atheists, it seems, would take a bulldozer to the whole lot.”

There is a process by which we lay down a continuity of thought from the present to the past. This is how we engage texts. We do not, in any sense leave the writings of the past unmolested. Indeed, we fold, spindle, and mutilate them — if necessary — in order to make them relevant and meaningful to contemporary concerns. Science is not the only discipline that has a process for picking and choosing from previous work in the effort to improve our understanding of the present. All branches of philosophy do the same. And in Judaism there is a tradition of Biblical exegesis called midrash, which often reinterprets, synthesizes, and proceeds from tangents in surprising ways. Among liberal Jewish scholars, the reinterpretation can be quite radical and highly metaphoric. This is how they can reconcile often difficult passages of the Bible to modern, rational sensibilities. It offers a path for maintaining a connection with tradition while reinventing it.

Some may argue that a religious system that has been stripped of all supernatural beliefs and superstitions is no longer religious at all. In fact, it is the very supernatural aspect that gives religion its religious character. Without that, it becomes a philosophy; perhaps a better term would be tradition. Now, on my account, that’s not a bad argument — but neither is it a given. There are counterarguments from semantic and well as anthropological views.

Suppose we accept that any religion that discards all supernatural beliefs is no longer a religion, but becomes a tradition. And suppose that a majority of Episcopal congregations in the United States and Canada decide to adopt an entirely naturalistic stance toward the Bible, and the life and teachings of Jesus, and the creeds of the church — while remaining largely unchanged in structure, observance, ritual, and practice. A handful of congregations reject this move and label themselves Episcopal Orthodox. If we now must refer to the mainstream Episcopal Church as the Episcopal Tradition (a change in terminology unlikely to be accepted by the congregants and pastors), what difference does it really make? It would be unreasonable to deny them the customary privileges granted to a religious organization, simply because they decided to take a rational stance. They should retain their tax-exempt status, their pastors should continue to serve as chaplains in the military, officiate at weddings, funerals, rites of passage, etc. And yet, even if we must call it a tradition, it remains a distinctly Christian tradition — in a very meaningful sense — that singles out and engages the teachings and acts of Jesus (barring the miracles), the sacraments, the liturgy, the holidays, rituals, and observances. They remain Christian in all ways but one — they need not check their intellect at the chapel door. To make a point of distinguishing tradition from religion in such a case is to mince words in a semantic parlor game.

—Parker Whittle, The God-shaped Hole: Whither Theology?

This article is really long but it is an extremely thoughtful account from a self-identified atheist on why perhaps it’s worth taking another look on what it means to be religious.