28. October 2009 by Frank.

I know some christians that like to post on Facebook.  Some of the things they post spark memories of when I used to do such things.  Some of them are things I was aware other people were doing but never bothered with myself.  Some are definite behaviors I indulged in.

The first one that sparked a memory was the request for travelling mercies.  I used to hear people pray for this all the time, I never did because I thought it was foolish.  But there were people who wouldn’t go more than a few miles without having the whole church praying that god would grant them travelling mercies.  Somehow, it seemed to me, these folks thought god wasn’t aware they were going anywhere and that travel can be dangerous.  They wanted some kind of force field around their vehicle to protect them from potential harm.  Having been involved in several wrecks over the years, I had already come to the conclusion that god wasn’t going to prevent an accident no matter how many times you asked him or how many people you had praying for you.  He never seemed to be the least bit concerned that your insurance premiums were going to increase nor did it seem like he cared how badly anyone got hurt or how much property was damaged.  When my wife had a seizure and drove the car into the side of a building, folding it up like an accordion, we gave him credit for keeping her from getting hurt but I could never get over why he let it happen in the first place.  So even as a christian I thought travelling mercies were bullshit.

On the other hand, some one else has to go for some nasty medical tests and wants prayers to keep himself from bad results.  I indulged in this sort of thing not necessarily asking others to pray for me but calling on all my own faith, rebuking the devil, claiming the blood of Jesus, and standing firm against any evil that might befall me because I was a man of god.  Because satan wanted to bring me down.  Even though I believed in divine healing I still didn’t want to come down with some horrible affliction.  Unfortunately, god let me down with all this as well.  My faith was no match for high blood pressure and god did not intervene.  There was no protection or deliverance from the stroke, either.

There also wasn’t any result with casting out the epilepsy demon from my wife.

The only thing that works with any of this is man-made medicines prescribed by human doctors who like to think they’re gods.  The thing of it is, I don’t see how anyone can continue calling on god for matters of health.  You witness enough suffering (go spend some time in a long term care facility) and agony of both the saved and the unsaved and then tell me you see the hand of god involved with any of them.  Watch your best friend be eaten alive by cancer, watch a mother’s grief when her daughter’s head is torn off in a motorcycle accident, watch an elderly woman grieve because her husband was killed by some teenaged moron with a cinder block while her husband tried to help the kid get his car out of a snow drift, watch your own mother die in agony because her pancreas decided to consume itself, watch your father-in-law die from an untreated and undiagnosed black spot on his foot and then come and convince me that god gives a shit about anyone’s health and wellbeing.  All these people were (and still are (if still alive) christians) when it happened.  God neither prevented, intervened, nor relieved any of this suffering despite the prayers of several churches full of mighty warriors of faith.

Not very impressive for the creator of the entire universe.  When I see these prayers being requested I just shake my head.  I used to believe despite all the evidence to the contrary so I can’t really criticize them too harshly.  But sooner or later you’ve got to admit there’s something radically wrong with believing in a caring healing god.

The Baptists have a sort of work-around for these things.  They don’t pray for the sufferer to be healed.  That way when nothing happens they’re off the hook.  No, they pray for the doctors to have wisdom or for the medicine to do the job it was designed to do.  I’ve seen several of these types of requests lately.  This sort of prayer lets god get away with doing nothing because they can blame the doctor or the medicine for failing instead.  I used to go along with this while in church but secretly prayed for complete healing while alone.  It didn’t do any good either way.

Least in frequency, are posts praising god for answering prayers.  Don’t want to jinx the results, you know.  I used to have to pressure people to get up and praise god in church.  It was worse than pulling teeth.  Their faith was so tenuous that they were literally afraid that praising god would somehow cause everything to fall apart. 

Looking back on all this now I wonder how otherwise intelligent people can become so deluded.

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24. October 2009 by Frank.

I went to a wedding last night.  It was at a Lutheran church.  It was very religious.  The booze was flowing, however, at the reception and by the time “I like big butts” was playing, it was obvious Jesus had left the building.

Not that the reception was held at the church.  “God forbid,” as they say.

The cognitive dissonance these bizarre rituals produce is rather astounding.  The couple themselves are not terribly religious but the wedding service was.  Once again it was all about Jesus, you would think it hardly matters if the couple was there or not.  The cleric was in his pajamas, I mean, his long white priestly robe.  Marriage is all about Jesus and his church, Jesus is the only reason we even know what love is, Jesus is the only way the couple can be happy, and the forgiveness of Jesus is the only way they can be successful.  They had to have Jesus because, well, they were both wretched sinners.  As were the rest of us witnesses.

I just love being told I’m a wretched sinner.  It’s so nice to know my wife is also a wretched sinner.  And, if you follow that thinking all the way, your marriage is a sin, too.  Which explains why your children are conceived and born into sin so they can be sinners as well.  Everybody needs Jesus.

I know Jesus was there because there was a little statue of him hanging on a cross on the altar along with a stylized art deco wire frame Jesus head, with halo, overhead.  Otherwise the church was rather unpretentious and actually quite small.  That little statue grabbed all my attention, however.

When I was a christian that particular symbol never really bothered me nor did it attract me enough to brandish it about as some are wont to do.  I’m not big on symbols or the need for them, anyway, so I never gave it much thought.  The only time it thoroughly grabbed my attention and I realized how ugly it actually was, was when I happened to walk past a catholic church downtown.  The door was open so I looked inside.  There was a very graphic Jesus on a cross displayed in there, it was at least 25 feet long, and it protruded out over the congregation.  There was no way you possibly ignore the grotesque thing no matter where you sat.  It was bloody and the character was obviously in great agony. 

I thought the thing was absolutely sickening.

The little crucifix in the church yesterday was only a foot tall and not bloody but it still clearly showed a crucified man with a thorn crown on its head.  Really rather barbaric and primitive, ugly but with the nastiness sort of covered up.  But it wasn’t quite accurate.  The character should be naked, the bible says they took his undergarment.  But you never see that in any of these obnoxious things, we can handle looking at a man being tortured to death but, by god, we don’t want him to have a dick.  Somehow a nonsexual bloodless man being tortured is OK to worship but lets keep the gore and sex out of it so we don’t get offended.

Say what you will about Mel Gibson’s PASSION OF THE CHRIST but at least it made the crucifixion as sickening as it actually was.

As I sat there yesterday I got focused on the wretched thing and all these thoughts went through my head.  The cleric reminded us all that Jesus had indeed died for our sins.  I never understood, even as a christian, why it was necessary to keep beating that into ours heads at every opportunity.  How, exactly, is that something you could possibly forget?  Why the need for constant reminders.  Why the cleaned up imagery?  “I will cling to the old rugged cross,” says the song.  Another refers to standing beneath the cleansing flow (of Jesus’ blood).  Do people not understand the depravity and ugliness of these images?

An HBO miniseries a few years ago called ROME featured a scene in which one of the main characters got naked and entered underneath an altar where her priests slaughtered an animal.  This thing was designed so that all the blood poured down on the chamber below.  The woman had a fantastically beautiful body fully on display but the gallons of blood pouring down on her turned the image quite repulsive.  This may have been a pagan ritual but christianity uses the exact same imagery.

In contrast to all the religious hooey, the reception did not resemble the holy nature of the service.  Aside from the aforementioned booze there was the extremely loud dance music and flashing lights which I would make a joke about being seizure inducing if it weren’t for the fact my wife has epilepsy.  How she can stand those rapid fire flashes amazes me.  But even though she’s a lifelong Baptist and had a broken hip she still wants to dance.  Even the people who didn’t want to drink and dance sat watching other people drink and dance.  I don’t think any of them were real christians.

And that’s what so absolutely strange about these things,

Why do people feel the need to get all solemn and holy for the ceremony only to spend the rest of the day in wild (well maybe not really wild) abandon?  Why all the god talk followed by partying? Seriously, what has being sinners in need of a savior actually got to do with being married?  Why do you need god’s blessing if you’re going to turn right around and ignore him?

Oddly, one of the cleric’s main points was that at the wedding in Cana, the first sensible thing the couple did was invite Jesus to the wedding.  Jesus responded by not only coming but by bringing a present of some really fine wine.  This shows Jesus approved of the marriage but somehow or another he didn’t actually approve of booze.  If you think you can’t actually get buzzed off of fine wine then obviously you never drink wine.  I guess I shouldn’t expect real life to make sense when these stories don’t make sense.

Lately, every time I enter the religious world, I feel more and more alienated.  The very things and rituals I used to love are growing more repugnant to me every day.  I see this stuff without the religious blinders on and it seems truly repulsive.  It seems ignorant and superstitious, the domain of the uneducated.  I see no difference between it and fairly tales.

How did I come so far?

And how can I get others to come with me?

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21. October 2009 by Frank.

First off, read this article from a few days ago:

African Children Denounced as Witches by Christian Pastors

Now spend a few minutes thinking about what is happening right now in the 21st century, in this modern, sophisticated world we live in.

Beyond appalling, isn’t it?

But that’s happening in backwoods Nigeria, in a pathetically poor, uneducated, superstitious, primitive country.  Not the highly scientific, modern, morally excellent society here in America.

You honestly think it couldn’t happen here?

I seem to recall several national news stories this past year about supposedly god fearing people killing their own children because god told them to.  There’s no arguing that these people were and are mentally damaged/deranged.  They either hear the voice of god or of demons and are convinced the voices are real.  Having been up close and personal with more than one person like that, I can attest that it is quite frightening to deal with them.

Even more frightening are the ones who refuse to let their children get needed medical help because of their faith.  What’s actually more horrible?  Letting a child die from a treatable/curable disease or injury or pouring acid down their throats to cast out the demons?  The end result is the same.  Either way it’s superstitious fear driven to extremes.

Obviously you can’t solely blame religion for this, mental illness is more complicated than that.  But I believe you can blame religion for creating an atmosphere where this sort of thing can flourish.

In my religious days I alternated between mainstream (Baptist) and Pentecostal/Charismatic/Word of Faith denominations.  The latter groups all taught that demons were real and that they were very active in our lives.  The former may believe the demons are real but don’t give them much heed or credit for influencing normal people.  Where demons are taught there were all sorts of demonic manifestations periodically.  Where they are seldom mentioned there are never any manifestations.  Why do you suppose that would be?

The Pentecostals will tell you it is because they are alive and powerful in the spirit while the Baptists (and others) are dead and powerless.  Satan only cares about the ones truly trying to live spiritual lives.  He wants desperately to bring them down before they can become a threat to his plans.  He doesn’t care about the others because what can a lowly non-spiritual christian do against him?

People believe this shit.  I did.

Back in the 80’s, in the little Charismatic church I started at, we were told there was a coven of witches operating in South Bend.  They supposedly practiced Satanism and Black Magic.  They were said to be actively seeking to destroy the entire Charismatic movement.  We had prayer meetings to stand against them.  One night our leader told us he had learned where they were located so we all jumped in a couple of cars and drove off to do spiritual warfare (we had our bibles and were praying mightily) with them.  We were terrified and exhilarated.  God’s prayer warriors in action!  It turned out to be a crock, of course.  But it didn’t diminish our desire to protect god’s church from evil.

Someone from a church where they didn’t teach this nonsense would have laughed their heads off at us if they knew what we were doing.

It wasn’t until much later when I left the faith and actually started studying these things that I discovered there were all sorts of little churches like mine where the exact same things kept happening over and over.  The church would teach about demons and witchcraft and all of a sudden there would be groups practicing those very things all around them.  Without fail.  And somehow no matter how powerful our prayer warriors were, they could never really drive them out.  Most likely because they were never really there.  It was superstitious fear.  It made us stupid.

Aside from the horror those poor African children go through who are suffering from the effects of religious superstition on their society, something else occurred to me as I read the article.  There’s no doubt those christian pastors are pushing religious bullshit and creating an atmosphere of fear.  They are feeding the dread of the unknown.

But think about the society that existed back when the books of the bible were written.  People weren’t educated, most couldn’t read or write.  Most were poor.  Barbarians roamed the lands and their god behaved as a barbarian would.  The earth was flat and everything revolved around it.  God had made it clear that witchcraft was not to be endured.  You could have your children stoned to death if they talked back to you.  It was perfectly all right to massacre your enemies down to the last infant but to keep all their virgin daughters for your own sexual use.  These people were primitive, superstitious, backwards, poor and fearful.  Their priests and kings maintained the fear.

If religion can encourage the horror going on in Nigeria today imagine what it must have been like back then when there was so little enlightenment to oppose it, back when no one knew any better.  Think of the effect the atrocities of the bible would have had on those primitive minds.

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18. October 2009 by Frank.

The last month has been quite an ordeal and I have been remiss in staying on topic and updating.  That’s about to change, like right now.

Have you noticed any articles about a very small Baptist church (only 14 members) that is planning a good old fashioned book burning?  I’m not going to provide them with a link because I really don’t want to draw any more attention to these whack heads than they have already  gotten.  Book burning is absolutely despicable, disgusting, backwards, ignorant and hundreds of other negative words of loaded connotations.  I find it appalling.

The catch here is rather bizarre.  These primitive morons aren’t going after atheist or humanist literature, they are going to burn bibles!  That’s right, bibles.  Specifically any bible that isn’t a 1611 King James Bible.  In their little pea brains it alone is the word of god.  Every other version or translation is an abomination, a perversion of the truth.

As if that wasn’t ridiculous enough, they are going to burn books written by popular christian leaders that use quotes from any other bible than the official KJV.  Because for English speaking (real) American believers god chose 1611 English as the only language worth communicating with.

Sounds insane, right?

I used to be a part of a church that had a pastor who became a KJV Only whackaloon several months after it started.  No one knew when he joined their ranks or even that he was considering such a thing.  I had absolutely no idea until one fateful Sunday morning as I was teaching on the gifts of the holy spirit and I used quotes from the New International Version.  I had used it before, in fact, I used several different versions regularly because I could often only make a point by using something with alternate wording.  (That’s a whole subject by itself.)  Everything went along as normal until it was the pastor’s turn to preach.  Why he chose that moment to come out as a KJV Only dickhead, I’ll never know.  But come out, he did.  And he came out swinging.

Right at my head, as a matter of fact.

I don’t know if you have ever had an entire sermon denouncing you as a servant of satan preached with great forcefulness while you sat there dumbfounded but I can assure you it isn’t pleasant.  In fact, it’s enough to make you wonder if they don’t intend to burn you at the stake right after the last hymn.

It amazes me that this movement is still alive and well.  This happened to me back in the nineties and here they are making news a decade later.  It doesn’t surprise me that these kinds of people would also be the type that would indulge in a book burning.  What surprises me is that this kind of primitive fear still has such sway in our supposedly modern society. 

The whole thing bothers me so much because I understand that kind of fear all too well.

Go to any large sufficiently stocked christian bookstore and you will find books by a multitude of different factions that not only contradict each other but frequently denounce and condemn one another.  Christian denominationalism is an ugly thing.  Like minded books are usually grouped together so you can be sure that the next section down contains books which will reject everything you believe in your section.

I used to be terrified to read any books like that or even read the blurbs on the covers.  Why?  Because they could cause doubt.  And the tiniest amount of doubt could completely derail my faith.  It was that fragile. 

This fear is taught in churches constantly.  I was the type who latches onto such things wholeheartedly.  I would regularly carry various teachings to extremes.  Probably what got me in so much trouble with various pastors over the years.  So I can understand how fearful people can be so terrified of anything that threatens their isolated limited understanding.

But to be so frightened of opposing ideas that you would burn books, no, that’s gone way too far.  To be so frightened of different translations of your holy word moves you way out to LaLaLand.  If you can’t handle some other viewpoint, don’t read the books!  Where do you get off burning them?  No one is making you read them, I’ve never seen anyone hold a gun to someone’s head to force them to read something.

What century is this anyway?

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11. October 2009 by Frank.

Periodically, I have recurring nightmares.  They almost invariably take place in the factory I worked at for 23 years before I had the stroke and became a new man.  They always involve people I knew, whom I thought were my friends.  They always take place in the factory, which is quite recognizable even though it is always altered in some bizarre manner.  Tonight it was several thousand times bigger and employed thousands more bedraggled people.  It featured extremely odd material handling equipment including a spinning lift truck which shot out an enormous arm that grabbed objects with pinpoint accuracy before rapidly spinning back into a compact ball.

It was quitting time which was after midnight.  Everyone looked as if the life was completely drained out of them.  They were all dressed in shabby winter coats and other garb.  They shuffled past the time clock in a near zombie-like procession but then became incredibly nimble as they had to go to great lengths to dodge the aforementioned material handling machines in the parking lot.  These machines were moving every kind of container under the sun with completely disregard for the workers attempting to leave the plant.  Several groups were crushed under huge cargo crates but no one had time to notice because they were so busy trying to save themselves from the same fate.

By the time the workers made it to the far side of the parking lot there were only hundreds instead of thousands of them.  But they weren’t out yet.  The office building now had to be passed through.

This building was a labyrinth of featureless black glass panels.  People were crashing into invisible walls and being trampled to death when they fell.  The hundreds were reduced to tens and twenties.  These decimated groups made it up stairwells to a lighted section of the building.  At first it seemed empty but gradually there were signs of white collar workers in various cubicles.  They sat at computer terminals typing but they were all faceless.  Literally.

Then the remaining groups burst into an area that looked like a shopping mall.  It was almost entirely women’s clothing stores featuring pathetically bad clothing, brightly colored fabrics the were essentially just rags.  The women in the groups began ooh-ing and ah-ing and eventually started having orgasms as they hurried to touch the pretty fabrics.  They pulled all their money from their purses and coats and gladly threw it at the feet of the faceless minions who worked the stores.  Once they entered a store they never left.

The few remaining men took no notice of this but rushed on to the back side of the mall where there were several bars.  They rushed inside and began ordering beers.  They drank as fast as they could so they could order more.  They, too, spent every last penny they had.  They all drank themselves into a stupor which lasted all of five minutes before an alarm sounded and a voice announced that it was time for work.  They dutifully made their way back to the factory.

New workers were being brought in by the busload.  There were more familiar faces among them.  They trudged in and immediately began working, blank faced, glassy-eyed, and drooling.  Thus another workday had begun.

And thus I woke up unable to go back to sleep.  I used to wonder why I frequently woke up more tired than when I went to bed.  Vivid dreams like this are the reason; I’m far more physically active in the dream world than I am in real life.  This is what my brain is doing at 3 AM.

No wonder I’m worn out all the time.

Posted in interpretation, humor, wild guesses, signs, stroke, Uncategorized | Print | 1 Comment »

7. October 2009 by Frank.

It seems to me that no one has much to say lately.  It’s one of those bleak in-between periods that periodically arise bringing apathy to the already apathetic.

I’ve been out of the loop last week with the death of my father-in-law.  The amount of family grief poured out during the week has been overwhelming.  I personally believe the funeral process was way too long and drawn out.  On Monday was the family viewing, on Tuesday it was the public visitation, and Wednesday was the actual funeral.  This is too stressful in my opinion; I prefer what we did when my mother died, one event on one day.  Essentially it was everything combined into one 2 hour service.  But even at that I must admit I don’t understand all the ritual involved or see the necessity for it.

My father-in-law was greatly loved, especially by his four grand-daughters.  My wife was particularly close to him, spending 2 or 3 days a week with him, buying his groceries and general keeping him company.  He was not in good health but there was nothing going on that was life threatening as far as anyone knew.  He died on the way to the hospital for a follow up check, less than a half mile away.  To say it was a shock would be an understatement of unbelievable proportions.

The funeral itself was actually fairly decent.  The preacher only used about 10% of the time preaching salvation and the rest he devoted to relaying family stories about how much the family was loved.  I was impressed he actually had paid attention.  The moron who did my mother’s funeral obviously didn’t know her or pay much attention to what anyone said about her.

It seems to me that the christians involved need a lot of reassuring that the loved one indeed made it to heaven and that they will be reunited.  To me, this is nonsense although I used to fully embrace it.  I kept my mouth shut throughout the proceedings.  No one shares my views or understanding so there is no point.

It amazes me that faith is so fragile.

The reading of the will is this afternoon.  That should be the final event of the whole affair.  With one exception the family is far from wealthy so beyond the house and car there really isn’t much.  My wife has been a basket case and I don’t think this will help matters any.

Not very many people tried to reassure me about anything this whole time.  In fact, most of them did their best to avoid me.  I don’t have any need to argue with all those believers so I don’t say anything and I agree with their platitudes instead of pointing out the truth.  If all the phony Jesus was the most important thing in their life stuff comforts them who am I to argue?  I don’t proclaim I am an atheist so something else about me must be radiating a stay away field.

Of course, this doesn’t exactly provide me with any comfort.  So I’m left to deal with my own feelings on my own.  I write it down for total strangers to read.  I live in an alien universe.  I know there are others like me but they aren’t here.  If they are, they’re well hidden.  I didn’t even get anything on Facebook.

So I appreciate those of you who left condolences in the comments.  I am far more grateful for your support than you may realize.

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