Many years ago when I was a boy, I began to wonder about God. My mom said she believed and I guess she did. But it was half-assed by most standards. Our church attendance was sporadic. My prayers all involved me asking for things that came from Kmart or maybe Kiddie City. The thing I thought most, whenever I thought of a supreme being, was being watched.
This one hits close to home for me. Raised (steeped) in fundamentalist religion from the moment I was born up until I was brave enough to set it all down (after becoming a mother). I couldn’t raise my little one in the painful traditions that I was raised in; I was taught very young to hate myself in the name of Jesus and I still work everyday to cope with the effects of that and other insidious aspects of religion. So, in my experience, that is “what’s wrong” with people believing it. Not so much that they think that there’s life after - to each their own - but that they make life so painful for so many people (children) in the meantime, under the guise of doing something of utmost importance. Something that cannot be questioned, or else.
Somewhere along my deconstruction journey, I landed on the belief that the concept of sin is a trauma response- there’s a lot of complex trauma in this life and instead of having a multilayered view on the causes of the pain/harm, it was painted over with the concept of inherent sin. “People aren’t struggling to cope due to fractured systems that exploit and harm families and incidentally hurt people along the way, they’re just born sinful.” It still makes my skin crawl. It’s been my focus over the past several years to understand life as best I can through a completely different lens; one where I believe that behavior is simply a result of needs that have or haven’t been met. A world full of grey rather than black and white. One where myself and others are deserving of true compassion, because we’re just here to experience, not to judge each other. Even despite the harm I experienced, there are beautiful aspects of the religious experience - I just don’t think the doctrine is responsible for that. I think the beauty comes from humans in community, and that can occur outside of the realm of religiosity.
It is my belief that the origin of all religions and all philosophies is rooted in the attempt to answer one question: "What does it all Mean?" And the terrible fear that the answer is: "Nothing at all."
I was thinking- IF it’s true, that which I believe, that Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father Gos, and if it’s true that the Earth is Gods footstool, then the Holy Spirit whom Jesus gave as a gift to all of his followers, is seated herewith us on the.footstool.l….And since Jesus said “whatsoever you do to the least of your brothers, that you do unto me” then, when we love one another l, we are technically siting oh the footstool giving Jesus and The Father heavenly pedicures! A lot of foot washing and booger parables. Life IS messy and full of stinky feet and sweet little goobers and crusty stuff. Jesus knew Crusty and loves really loves us. Healed these soles. What a mess. Anyhoo l- thanks for telling us your perspective. I remember being there at church for the first 25 years and it was difficult to feel so lonely in the l comfort of familiarity. Hardest thing l to break from mass but found what I was wanting so badly for inlay a non-denominational fellowship of kindred souls. Messy 💕I’m still a mess but it’s all good.
I was raised a church going Catholic. I continued to go to church way into adulthood. Took my kids to church, gave the sacraments. Like most Catholics I worshopped like it was a chinese menu. Believe these two from column A and one from B. Ignored the other offerings. But something changed and I haven't been to church in years. I believe in a God, a higher being. I try my hardest to be a better person. But in my 60's now I'm thinking about God more. Do I go back to church? Choose another faith? Will any of it get me close to everlasting Life? Sometimes I think it's so much easier to be very religious. You don't question, you just do.
Lot to digest. So much that I, too, have mulled, same conclusions, more or less. I was raised Catholic and I went to church and did all the churchy things a suburban Long Island church kid does—first holy communion; catechism; confirmation; religious instruction. My parents weren’t particularly religious, but my mother was big on the tradition of it. Still is: she can’t wrap her head around the fact that my daughter and her husband haven’t, nor do they plan to, baptized my grandson. Who’s almost two and a half. A bridge too far for her. Like many folks her age, she’s rediscovered church as she gets closer to the end of her story. 90 this July. And still going strong. But I digress. I was told I had to go to church until I made my confirmation and then I could choose for myself. And I chose to stop going. Immediately. The choice between getting up and going to church or watching Abbott & Costello on a Sunday morning was never a choice—“I love baseball…”/“We all love baseball…”. Still, I digress. I don’t know if I ever believed. It was a thing we were told, like Johnny Appleseed by way of Disney. My image of heaven was a lovely country backroad with a split rail fence, like something out of the opening credits of “The Andy Griffith Show”, or the back cover of Creedenece’s “Green River” album. And if there is a Heaven, I secretly still expect it to look like that. But I believe if there is, it likely doesn’t. And I don’t really think there is. I’m pretty sure there isn’t, as a matter fact. If someone else has a firm belief in Heaven, and “Jesus and all the saints” I’m cool with that. We will agree to disagree. I won’t let them *insist*, however, that there is and that I’m wrong. Fuck that. I’ll state my case, of which I’m (fairly) certain. I think I’ve already said (somewhere in an earlier comment) that my take in life m, on why we are here—the Meaning—is quite simply one of biology. We are here to continue the species. To keep that big wheel turning. Like every other animal inn the planet. Of course, unlike every other animal on the planet, we have really fucked it up. With industry and technology and the capacity for “thought” greater than the beasts of the field. Just thinking that we’re allegedly smarter than anything else on the planet is tragically hilarious. Cosmic joke.
“Beware the beast Man, for he is the Devil's pawn. Alone among God's primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother's land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death.”
—Cornelius (Roddy McDowell); “Planet Of The Apes” (1968)
Truer words never spoken. And by a chimpanzee, at that! Granted a chimpanzee who’s an archaeologist in the year 3978. Still…
I don’t believe in God. I also don’t definitely NOT believe either. Not an atheist, but an agnostic. I’m open to the possibility, but you have to prove it. Like Bigfoot. Or the Loch Ness monster. Both of whom I really hope do exist, by the way. And I’m pretty sure that all three are nice fantasies. I do believe there is other life in the universe. It’s absurd, to me, to think that we’re the only life in the vastness of Space. I mean, come on. Talk about hubris. If we’re the best He/She/They could do, then God (who I’m pretty sure is a human invention intended to keep folks in line) really should up His/Her/Their game. Cause we can really kinda suck as a species. Not always. But often.
Anyway, those are some of my thoughts on the subject. Your essays always get my mind flexing, as I’ve said. Thanks again for what you do here. It’s always appreciated.
This one hits close to home for me. Raised (steeped) in fundamentalist religion from the moment I was born up until I was brave enough to set it all down (after becoming a mother). I couldn’t raise my little one in the painful traditions that I was raised in; I was taught very young to hate myself in the name of Jesus and I still work everyday to cope with the effects of that and other insidious aspects of religion. So, in my experience, that is “what’s wrong” with people believing it. Not so much that they think that there’s life after - to each their own - but that they make life so painful for so many people (children) in the meantime, under the guise of doing something of utmost importance. Something that cannot be questioned, or else.
Somewhere along my deconstruction journey, I landed on the belief that the concept of sin is a trauma response- there’s a lot of complex trauma in this life and instead of having a multilayered view on the causes of the pain/harm, it was painted over with the concept of inherent sin. “People aren’t struggling to cope due to fractured systems that exploit and harm families and incidentally hurt people along the way, they’re just born sinful.” It still makes my skin crawl. It’s been my focus over the past several years to understand life as best I can through a completely different lens; one where I believe that behavior is simply a result of needs that have or haven’t been met. A world full of grey rather than black and white. One where myself and others are deserving of true compassion, because we’re just here to experience, not to judge each other. Even despite the harm I experienced, there are beautiful aspects of the religious experience - I just don’t think the doctrine is responsible for that. I think the beauty comes from humans in community, and that can occur outside of the realm of religiosity.
Thanks for sharing this, Serge.
It is my belief that the origin of all religions and all philosophies is rooted in the attempt to answer one question: "What does it all Mean?" And the terrible fear that the answer is: "Nothing at all."
I was thinking- IF it’s true, that which I believe, that Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father Gos, and if it’s true that the Earth is Gods footstool, then the Holy Spirit whom Jesus gave as a gift to all of his followers, is seated herewith us on the.footstool.l….And since Jesus said “whatsoever you do to the least of your brothers, that you do unto me” then, when we love one another l, we are technically siting oh the footstool giving Jesus and The Father heavenly pedicures! A lot of foot washing and booger parables. Life IS messy and full of stinky feet and sweet little goobers and crusty stuff. Jesus knew Crusty and loves really loves us. Healed these soles. What a mess. Anyhoo l- thanks for telling us your perspective. I remember being there at church for the first 25 years and it was difficult to feel so lonely in the l comfort of familiarity. Hardest thing l to break from mass but found what I was wanting so badly for inlay a non-denominational fellowship of kindred souls. Messy 💕I’m still a mess but it’s all good.
I was raised a church going Catholic. I continued to go to church way into adulthood. Took my kids to church, gave the sacraments. Like most Catholics I worshopped like it was a chinese menu. Believe these two from column A and one from B. Ignored the other offerings. But something changed and I haven't been to church in years. I believe in a God, a higher being. I try my hardest to be a better person. But in my 60's now I'm thinking about God more. Do I go back to church? Choose another faith? Will any of it get me close to everlasting Life? Sometimes I think it's so much easier to be very religious. You don't question, you just do.
Lot to digest. So much that I, too, have mulled, same conclusions, more or less. I was raised Catholic and I went to church and did all the churchy things a suburban Long Island church kid does—first holy communion; catechism; confirmation; religious instruction. My parents weren’t particularly religious, but my mother was big on the tradition of it. Still is: she can’t wrap her head around the fact that my daughter and her husband haven’t, nor do they plan to, baptized my grandson. Who’s almost two and a half. A bridge too far for her. Like many folks her age, she’s rediscovered church as she gets closer to the end of her story. 90 this July. And still going strong. But I digress. I was told I had to go to church until I made my confirmation and then I could choose for myself. And I chose to stop going. Immediately. The choice between getting up and going to church or watching Abbott & Costello on a Sunday morning was never a choice—“I love baseball…”/“We all love baseball…”. Still, I digress. I don’t know if I ever believed. It was a thing we were told, like Johnny Appleseed by way of Disney. My image of heaven was a lovely country backroad with a split rail fence, like something out of the opening credits of “The Andy Griffith Show”, or the back cover of Creedenece’s “Green River” album. And if there is a Heaven, I secretly still expect it to look like that. But I believe if there is, it likely doesn’t. And I don’t really think there is. I’m pretty sure there isn’t, as a matter fact. If someone else has a firm belief in Heaven, and “Jesus and all the saints” I’m cool with that. We will agree to disagree. I won’t let them *insist*, however, that there is and that I’m wrong. Fuck that. I’ll state my case, of which I’m (fairly) certain. I think I’ve already said (somewhere in an earlier comment) that my take in life m, on why we are here—the Meaning—is quite simply one of biology. We are here to continue the species. To keep that big wheel turning. Like every other animal inn the planet. Of course, unlike every other animal on the planet, we have really fucked it up. With industry and technology and the capacity for “thought” greater than the beasts of the field. Just thinking that we’re allegedly smarter than anything else on the planet is tragically hilarious. Cosmic joke.
“Beware the beast Man, for he is the Devil's pawn. Alone among God's primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother's land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death.”
—Cornelius (Roddy McDowell); “Planet Of The Apes” (1968)
Truer words never spoken. And by a chimpanzee, at that! Granted a chimpanzee who’s an archaeologist in the year 3978. Still…
I don’t believe in God. I also don’t definitely NOT believe either. Not an atheist, but an agnostic. I’m open to the possibility, but you have to prove it. Like Bigfoot. Or the Loch Ness monster. Both of whom I really hope do exist, by the way. And I’m pretty sure that all three are nice fantasies. I do believe there is other life in the universe. It’s absurd, to me, to think that we’re the only life in the vastness of Space. I mean, come on. Talk about hubris. If we’re the best He/She/They could do, then God (who I’m pretty sure is a human invention intended to keep folks in line) really should up His/Her/Their game. Cause we can really kinda suck as a species. Not always. But often.
Anyway, those are some of my thoughts on the subject. Your essays always get my mind flexing, as I’ve said. Thanks again for what you do here. It’s always appreciated.
There is no right or wrong on this subject. This was a great essay. Thanks Serge.