Here's something you should know about me. I'm an atheist.
Basically, here's what I believe. There is, in fact, a power out there greater than all of us. I think it's gravity, or the earth's rotation on its axis, or Aurora Borealis.
I don't think that the greater power takes the form of one or multiple Gods. I think that Gods were the invention of Man, and that Man invented God(s) to explain things that had no explanation. I believe that God also acted as a behavior modifier, a la Elf on the Shelf. The dietary restrictions in Leviticus are there because people were getting sick, and following these rules kept them healthier.
I believe that Jesus believed in his God, and thought that he was the son of said deity. And I think he talked a good game, and I think he talked other people into believing. Basically, I think he may have had delusions of grandeur and he used that to found an extremely successful cult.
So you can imagine how popular I was growing up in the Bible Belt.
I remember the first time I said something that really rattled cages. I was 13, in 7th grade. It was before class and someone said something about heaven. I said contemptuously, "There's no such thing as heaven." And this girl, who we'll call Molly (not her real name), burst into tears. See, I had forgotten that Molly's father had died the year before, and that she was probably counting on a celestial family reunion... some time in the distant future.
And everyone looked at me like I was a monster. Which, to be fair... I was.
Because, let's face it - it's more important to be nice than it is to be right.
I feel that the statue of limitations on this particular transgression has probably expired, but Molly, wherever you are, I'm sorry. I was an asshole.
So, the thing is - I respect people and their religion. In a way, I'm jealous of Christians who find comfort in their practice. I wish I had something like that in my life.
Especially now that Dad is gone. When he died, many people told me he was in heaven, and I honestly think, you know, thank you, but you're wrong. I think when you die, you die - and that you live on in the things you did - good or bad - and in the people whose lives you touched, for better or worse. So, no. I don't believe my father is in heaven, and I don't think I'll see him again on the other side. I do believe that he lives on others. In me, for starters. So I take comfort in that. In what he taught me, in times we spent together.
That said... sometimes, it would be easier if I felt assured that if I behaved and was kind, and/or didn't eat pork, or didn't work on the Sabbath, or whatever... I'd get to see my father again.
For now, I'll just appreciate the time I had.
ae
Basically, here's what I believe. There is, in fact, a power out there greater than all of us. I think it's gravity, or the earth's rotation on its axis, or Aurora Borealis.
I don't think that the greater power takes the form of one or multiple Gods. I think that Gods were the invention of Man, and that Man invented God(s) to explain things that had no explanation. I believe that God also acted as a behavior modifier, a la Elf on the Shelf. The dietary restrictions in Leviticus are there because people were getting sick, and following these rules kept them healthier.
I believe that Jesus believed in his God, and thought that he was the son of said deity. And I think he talked a good game, and I think he talked other people into believing. Basically, I think he may have had delusions of grandeur and he used that to found an extremely successful cult.
So you can imagine how popular I was growing up in the Bible Belt.
I remember the first time I said something that really rattled cages. I was 13, in 7th grade. It was before class and someone said something about heaven. I said contemptuously, "There's no such thing as heaven." And this girl, who we'll call Molly (not her real name), burst into tears. See, I had forgotten that Molly's father had died the year before, and that she was probably counting on a celestial family reunion... some time in the distant future.
And everyone looked at me like I was a monster. Which, to be fair... I was.
Wrong Monster... |
Because, let's face it - it's more important to be nice than it is to be right.
I feel that the statue of limitations on this particular transgression has probably expired, but Molly, wherever you are, I'm sorry. I was an asshole.
So, the thing is - I respect people and their religion. In a way, I'm jealous of Christians who find comfort in their practice. I wish I had something like that in my life.
Especially now that Dad is gone. When he died, many people told me he was in heaven, and I honestly think, you know, thank you, but you're wrong. I think when you die, you die - and that you live on in the things you did - good or bad - and in the people whose lives you touched, for better or worse. So, no. I don't believe my father is in heaven, and I don't think I'll see him again on the other side. I do believe that he lives on others. In me, for starters. So I take comfort in that. In what he taught me, in times we spent together.
That said... sometimes, it would be easier if I felt assured that if I behaved and was kind, and/or didn't eat pork, or didn't work on the Sabbath, or whatever... I'd get to see my father again.
For now, I'll just appreciate the time I had.
ae
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