9 posts tagged “christianity”
I got a rather unreflective and just plain stupid email in my inbox this morning, shared with me by my equally-appalled sister, who'd received it from a cousin of ours. It was (supposedly) written by Ben Stein, who read it on some morning show like Good Morning America. I haven't vetted this on Snopes yet, so it's possible anyone could have written it, but that's neither here nor there. I don't really care who wrote it...rather, it's the "message" someone was trying to share.
I'm going to paste the body of the email below, but I'd like to give you a few questions for thought before you read it:
1. Why is it that people who believe in God also believe that they have the corner on the market on morals? I'm an atheist, and yet you don't see me stealing, lying, cheating, murdering, pillaging, etc. Need I recite just how many Christians (and Jews and Muslims and Hindus and on and on) are continually trotted in front of cameras for all of the previous offenses and more on a regular basis? Do I need to start naming them?
2. Why do believers always come back to the theory that God is punishing humanity for its indiscretions? Like we are recalcitrant little children who've strayed?? Whenever I read this, I think, are you fucking serious? Hurricane Katrina occurred because we don't have prayer in schools? WTF?? And this is supposedly the same kind and benevolent God who lets babies drown and starve and suffer everywhere, not just during Katrina but every single day all over this globe? All because kids don't say prayers in kindergarten in Hoboken any more???
Repugnant.
Be sure to put on your critical thinking caps before you read what follows...
I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees.. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees.
It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu ... If people want a crèche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.
I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.
Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.
Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Katrina) Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'
In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
Are you laughing yet?
Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on
your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they
will think of you for sending it.
Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
Pass it on if you think it has merit. If not then just discard it..... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.
First off, let me say that this post will likely offend some of my Catholic neighbors here on Vox. I know you're good people. This is not directed at you, but I feel it's extremely important to post what I'm about to post. After all, it's essential to be honest and baldly examine any institution which holds such sway around the globe and in so many people's lives.
I was raised Catholic and married in the Catholic Church, but left the Church (and Christianity altogether) several years ago for multiple reasons. Tonight, I watched the documentary Deliver Us From Evil; the film centered around Fr. Oliver O'Grady, a Catholic priest who molested children for over 30 years in the Los Angeles area. Monsignors, bishops and eventually cardinals (Bishop-cum-Cardinal Mahony in particular) shuttled O'Grady from parish to parish, knowing all the while that he was raping children, boys and girls alike.
Depositions from a monsignor and from then-Bishop Mahony show the men are clearly lying. They squirm, avoid eye contact, and use the repeated defense of, "I don't remember," even when handed letters with their signatures that document their knowledge of O'Grady's abuse. During the '70s and '80s when pedophiles in the priesthood were molesting little children, Bishop Mahony was waiting anxiously to climb the Church ladder and become a Cardinal. He kept busy putting out fires and shuffling priests all over the place to keep laypeople in the dark and to avoid bringing any public scandal down on the Church. He got his promotion. He's a Cardinal now. Still. He's currently working within the diocese on the sexual abuse cases, dealing with allegations against no less than 566 priests. Oh, the irony!
The night before O'Grady was going to testify, truthfully, about Mahony's knowledge of his actions, the Church swooped into his jail cell and cut him a deal if he'd just be quiet...even though he'd been ordered to testify, and wanted to. The Church bought O'Grady an annuity as a reward for keeping his mouth shut. After serving 7 years, O'Grady now lives freely in Ireland, roaming about. Good times. Irish parents better keep a close eye on their sons and daughters.
The Church has apparently had documented problems with sexual abuse of children since the 4th century. Why the 4th century, you ask? Well, that was the time period in which the Church decided that priests could no longer marry. Why could they no longer marry? Because we all know it's not written in the Scripture, anywhere, that officers of the Church should remain celibate, and Jesus certainly never demanded it. Well, the answer is because when priests died, like any other family man, they left their assets to their firstborn sons. The Church wanted those assets (surprise, surprise). End of marriage for priests, beginning of celibacy, beginning of centuries of child abuse.
One priest, Fr. Tom Doyle, has been fired from two positions within the Church for his outspoken criticism of clergy sexual abuse. Twenty-five years ago, he sensed a problem looming and formed a committee for the Church's hierarchy to discuss and deal with the problem. Mahony was a member of this summit. More irony! The Church, however, swept Doyle's committee's findings and recommendations under the rug, and went about business as usual. Doyle continues to campaign against clergy sexual abuse.
I had no idea of the scope of the clergy sex abuse scandal. No idea. I remember when it blew up a few years back, but I was already out of the Church by then, and it honestly seemed like just another dirty little secret to add to the long list of why I was no longer a Catholic. Add it to the fact that the Church promotes institutionalized misogyny, its history and behavior during the Crusades, and its continued enforcement of arcane doctrines that have no real value to people living in the 21st century...you get my point. When you consider the damage done by the Church and its officers on thousands (the number currently stands at 100,000 who've reported--experts estimate that 80% of victims never report), it is simply appalling.
Sure, there are some who might say that one bad apple shouldn't spoil the bunch, but let's get real here. The Church is all about money and power, and always has been. The Church decided, by attempting to cover up its dirty little secret, that its "good impression" (as it's called in the movie by Doyle, a canon law expert) was more important than the children being raped, sodomized and molested. Keep everything looking good, save face, keep everyone quiet. Who cares if little children are being raped? Why would anyone want to be part of such an institution?
The lovely Pope Benedict was actually implicated in the sex scandal by U.S. prosecutors (he was directly in charge, during his tenure as Cardinal Ratzinger, of the office used to control wayward and abusing priests during the '70s and '80s. One might say he did a shitty job), but AT THE REQUEST OF THE VATICAN, GEORGE W. BUSH GRANTED POPE BENEDICT IMMUNITY FROM PROSECUTION IN THE UNITED STATES. To which I say, how 'bout them apples?
I'm proud to say I'm no longer Catholic.
Yes, that's the title, complete with uppercase and lowercase letters in different places.
I bought this book in January, and have been making my way through it since then. It was shortlisted for the National Book Award, which is one of the reasons I wanted to read it.
I think that I was equally impressed and disappointed with the book. Hitchens is erudite and wickedly intelligent, and covers the broad scope of religious history throughout the book (it is not chronological, though). It is obvious that he's given this subject plenty of thought, and I especially like the way the book opens, with his own questioning of religion at a young age. He is careful to point out that he was never subject to any religious abuse or even zealotry; he talks about how a teacher's silly quote about plants being green because God made them that way is what made him realize how impossible and silly the idea of god was. Here's a quote from page 56:
"Violent, irrational, intolerant, allied to racism and tribalism and bigotry, invested in ignorance and hostile to free inquiry, contemptuous of women and coercive toward children: organized religion ought to have a great on its conscience."
The book starts out promisingly enough, with plenty of food for thought and in-your-face examples of why Hitchens feels religion poisons everything. He is not at all particular to one religion; I expected an especial prejudice against Christianity because he's English, but that wasn't the case. He attacks pretty much every organized religion with equal verve, and gives concrete examples on why each one is violent, irrational, intolerant...
The problem is that Hitchens is, well, unpleasant. I found his repeated references to believers as "yokels" and "idiots" very off-putting. His tone was extremely harsh, condescending and abrasive. Where he was inviting and contemplative in the beginning, he turned acerbic within a few chapters. Even if I agreed with the essence of whatever he might be stating, I wanted to distance myself from it because he was so damn nasty. It probably doesn't help that the picture of Hitchens on the back inside flap of the book is, well, sour-looking. He looks like he just swallowed a lemon.
It also drags a bit in the middle, which is why it took me so long to finish it, and I attribute this in part to the author's tone.
I found his chapter on eastern religions both short and containing incomplete/incorrect information. He makes repeated references to Buddha as a god (in all my reading on Buddhism, every single author has been careful to state that Buddha was a human being born of human parents, not a god, and that Buddha himself even stated this), and he also references some myth about Buddha being born out of a slit in his mother's side (??). I have no idea what that's about. Regardless, I don't consider Buddhism a religion anyway; I consider it a philosophy, and one that meshes well with atheism. I like that the fact that nothing in Buddhism is prescribed, but is left to the individual to discover for themselves, of their own reasoning and rationale and experience.
All this being said, I still think the book provokes excellent arguments. It certainly made me question and consider ideas and viewpoints that I hadn't yet, such as the following quote from page 74:
"...religion teaches people to be extremely self-centered and conceited. It assures them that god cares for them individually, and it claims that the cosmos was created with them specifically in mind. This explains the supercilious expression on the faces of those who practice religion ostentatiously: pray excuse my modesty and humility but I happen to be busy on an errand for god."
Even though I'm an atheist now, I was raised Christian (a mutt of many denominations, including Catholic, Methodist and Lutheran--all products of my parents' inability to commit and follow through on any one thing), and I recognized this as soon as I read it, because I'd heard it so many times. That I was special, that god knew each hair on my head, he knew me before I was born, blah blah blah. But I hadn't considered that such thinking might be self-centered. As I said, thought-provoking. His book will definitely make you consider points of view that you might not have, and he shares a pretty eye-opening history of many common religions. There are chapters on religion as child abuse, the doctrine of original sin, creationism vs. evolution, miracles, and much more. It's worth a read, even if you know you might (or will) disagree with the author before reading it.
If you have not read Jesus Land by Julia Scheeres, you must.
This is the author's story about growing up in a strict Christian household with abusive and neglectful parents, and also the story of her adopted black brother, David. They were extremely close, born only a few months apart, and referred to themselves as twins. That's the two of them on the cover. Their story is poignant, moving, occasionally humorous and gorgeously written. Every time I think I've got the corner on the market on fucked-up childhoods, I read a memoir like this that makes my own childhood look like a fairy tale.
I couldn't put this book down and read it straight through, and actually missed going to my sit this week because I stayed up too late reading it. My version also included an interview with the author at the end, and when I was about 50 pages from the end, I flipped to the back and started to read the author interview....DO NOT do this, because I ruined the ending, in a sense.
The author is a journalist, and I hope she's working on another book, about anything. What a writer!
"How much effort it takes to affirm the incredible! The Aztecs had to tear open a human chest cavity every day just to make sure that the sun would rise. Monotheists are supposed to pester their deity more times than that, perhaps, lest he be deaf. How much vanity must be concealed--not too effectively at that--in order to pretend that one is the personal object of a divine plan? How much self-respect must be sacrificed in order that one may squirm continually in an awareness of one's own sin? How many needless assumptions must be made, and how much contortion is required, to receive every new insight of science and manipulate it so as to "fit" with the revealed words of ancient man-made deities? How many saints and miracles and councils and conclaves are required in order first to be able to establish a dogma and then--after infinite pain and loss and absurdity and cruelty--to be forced to rescind one of those dogmas? God did not create man in his own image. Evidently, it was the other way about, which is the painless explanation for the profusion of gods and religions, and fratricide both between and among faiths, that we see all about us and that has so retarded the development of civilization."
--Christopher Hitchens, God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything
Even if you don't agree with this, it provides you with excellent food for thought. Something for mulling over...
So, I have a feeling I wasn't the lone dissenter in Western Civ class the other day. I was just the only one willing to raise my hand.
Our professor is really pushing us, and pushing the boundaries of comfort; yesterday, he explained how ancient Mesopotamians lived in a theocratic society. God was at the top of the hierarchy, and citizens lived in fear of pissing of their gods; this fear reinforced morality, and fear is control. Dr. Y asked the class, after scribbling this all out on the board, if this sounded familiar to Christianity.
A girl raised her hand and said, "Well, yeah. Christianity is built on fear. Christians spend their lives in fear of going to hell for eternity."
I smiled.
If there were more Christians like AmyH and shush now, maybe I wouldn't be so thrilled with this 20-year-old's response. But let's call a spade a spade, you know?
Today, for the first time, I publicly admitted I was an atheist. It was a weird and interesting experience.
I'm taking two freshmen-level classes this quarter; in addition to math, I'm stuck in Intro to Western Civilization. That's the bad news. The good news is that this class is going to rock because I have yet another awesome professor, and a class that could be mind-numbingly boring is going to be amazing. I heart my school.
Our professor started us off today by talking about how there are two basic schools of thought on how we humans arrived here on earth: creationism vs. Big Bang-style-evolution. He then told us that there are some people in the middle who believe a blend of the two (basically, that a god created earth but evolution takes place, too). So far, so good. He then asked how many people believed that God created us and this earth. Almost everyone in class raised their hands (let me also point out that this is the largest class I've ever been in at Otterbein, with 50-60 students; most classes average between 7 and 20).
He then asked how many people believed in an entirely evolution-based explanation for our existence. I raised my hand and I was the only one. I wanted to ask, are we in fucking Kansas, people? Has anyone been paying attention in science class?? The professor asked if I believed only in evolution, or if I believe a "combo" theory like the one above. I told him no, I didn't believe that any god was responsible for our creation, but that evolution was responsible entirely for our existence. He asked if I felt there was an endpoint to time, and I answered that I didn't know. I feel it's important to say I don't know, because I don't, and no one does. As I was talking, I felt the eyes of 50+ freshmen staring at the strange creature among them: The One Who Doesn't Believe In God. I didn't feel embarrassed or even uncomfortable. I felt like a zoo animal, or an amoeba being examined under a microscope. Weird, but funny.
Now, before I go on, let me state that this professor is very, very good at teaching. He didn't try to make me or anyone else feel uncomfortable about our beliefs, and he made the class environment very hospitable for open discussion. He explained that his entire point for bringing all of this up is that our worldview colors how we view history. The atheist/evolutionist will view history and his/her participation in it quite differently from the creationist/religious person, who claims to know the endpoint of history and time, which is God's return to earth and the end of life as we know it. In order to learn history, we must examine how we approach and interpret everything.
So after he talked to me, he asked if there were any people who believed in the end of time, a "rapture," so to speak. A professor asked a young man sitting behind me who raised his hand what the end of time meant to him, to explain it in detail.
The student said, "Well, it means the second coming of Christ. And a huge party"--I wanted to add: duuuude--"for all of us who are born again, who've accepted Jesus as their Savior. I'm so excited, I can't wait for it." Pause. Then, with total certainty: "And all the non-believers are going to burn."
Well there it is, my people. Yet another ringing endorsement for the love, kindness and charity of Christians everywhere. Yet another ringing endorsement for organized religion and its judgment-laden doctrines and dogmas, for its willingness to shrug off the "unsaved" masses of humanity and conscribe them to a fiery pit for all of eternity. Can anyone tell me exactly how this is the message of Jesus? Can anyone tell me just how this promotes love for individual fellow humans and humanity? Can anyone tell me just what it takes to believe in this sort of God?
I didn't take his little snipe personally. I found it amusing, in an anthropological sort of way. And I found it, most of all, very sad. This sort of exclusivism won't do anything for humanity or civilization in the long-term, and in the short-term, it continues to fuel wars, hatred and abuses of power. I'm tired of it. I think it's perfectly okay if others believe in God...why, then, do others feel so threatened if I choose not to believe in their God? I was raised a Christian, so I get it...to a point. There comes a time when you have to think for yourself and really examine what you believe and what you've been taught. You must decide for yourself without accepting what you've been spoon-fed your whole life. If you still come out on the side of God and Christianity, that really is okay by me...but please do investigate. Sleuth it out before you decide, in knee-jerk fashion, like an automaton.
Okay, that's all. Please remember to be kind today, even to the non-believers who are going to burn. Ha!
Can anyone tell me why it suddenly seems "cool" to hate Christmas, both here on Vox and in the real world?
Before I even start this post, I have to say that I'm not an unqualified fan myself. I despise the commercialism, the rampant and blindless consumption, the waste (wrapping paper, useless gifts, leftover food that goes uneaten), the Christmas decorations that go up in retail stores before Halloween, the 24-hour Christmas music on at least 3 radio stations starting in early November, the pressure to spend money you don't have on gifts that no one remembers, the whole nine yards. Many years my Christmas spirit is ruined (or killed entirely) by all of these things.
But I still think there's some value to this holiday. By no means am I a Pollyanna, but I'm not going to dump Christmas entirely because it's bereft with issues that irritate me. Christmas is a reason to get together with family and eat good food, often the food of your childhood. These same get-togethers also provide you with an opportunity to gossip with your significant other about all the stuff that went on, after you've left the get-together. I'm no longer a Christian but I still observe many Christmas traditions: the tree, the carols, even the Advent calendar once in a while. These are traditions I grew up with, and I think it's quite alright to separate them from the religious. I enjoy them, they're what I know, they bring me comfort and peace. I LOVE winter. I love snow and ice and chill air and smoky pink sunsets on gray overcast days. I enjoy packing the dogs up in the car and going to look at Christmas lights with my husband, with a thermos full of hot chocolate, a tradition we follow every year just before the holiday.
These are all pieces and parts of Christmas that I still love, and will continue to enjoy and look forward to.
I hope I'm not ever so jaded that I can't enjoy the holidays, even a little bit. I think Christmas in the U.S. will always be plagued with consumption and consumerism, annoying Christmas music and the like, but that doesn't mean it's a lost cause or that it can't be enjoyed. To those people who insist on "hating" Christmas, I say, live a little. Lighten up.
I grew up a Christian--my family played with just about every denomination from Catholic to Methodist to Lutheran--but I no longer consider myself one, in large part due to the hypocrisy of Christianity itself.
Here's today's little dose of Christian hypocrisy. On the expressway today, heading to take my math final, I noticed a nice little pickup truck in front of me that has a bumper sticker saying, "I LOVE JESUS." Okay, whatever. So as I pass the truck, I notice the guy's got a freaking radar detector attached to the windshield! Now, he's not speeding at the moment, but obviously he uses it so he can. So he can break the law, that is. I wouldn't hold him to any higher standard than anyone else, except people who claim to "love Jesus" hold everyone to impossible standards imposed by an ancient book written by a bunch of fallible men. Ugh.