Let’s talk about God.
Wait, don’t go.
I know invitations to talk about God have shut down countless conversations and gotten hundreds of thousands of doors slammed in Jehovah only knows how many well-intentioned faces, so before you stop reading, let me tell you what I’m going to tell you.
Of all the advice I’ve given you, this one might be the least instructive. It touches on God, religions, and what I believe.
But.
More important is what I’m not going to tell you.
This is not an instruction manual for what you should believe; you’ll have to work that out yourself. Of course, your Mom and I will be there to share our thoughts and talk you through it, but since neither of us have all the answers, we’re not going to dictate what you should or shouldn’t think. This is more of a directional suggestion. A little bit of “consider this,” some loose guidance, several “watch out for these assholes,” and some light blasphemy to keep it interesting.
To start: approach this topic with humility. If you need a primer on humility, go back and read Be Humble. Why be be humble on matters of faith and religion? Because you can’t ever be sure that you’re right. You can feel, believe, or think you’re right. You can declare with absolute certainty that you’re right. Lots of people do.
Newsflash: Statistically, they’re probably wrong.
According to Wikipedia, there are there are roughly 4,200 religions, churches, denominations, religious bodies, faith groups, tribes, cultures, movements, and ultimate concerns. Some of these groups have beliefs that overlap and just vary on small stuff like if their clergy wear robes or if they can speak to each other in the liquor store. Some of them think everyone else is full of shit and every person not in their religion is doomed.
But, since it’s impossible to prove or disprove the existence of God, it’s definitely impossible to prove that one particular brand of God is the one we should all be worshiping. So, be humble.
On that topic, let me express my own humility. I might be wrong about all of this. God may be super pissed off that I don’t wear a yamaka or that I cut my hair. But until I hear it from God, I’m going to stick with my haircuts and ball caps.
Also, I don’t hold any degrees in religion and definitely don’t claim to be a religious scholar. I’ve read the Bible, am familiar with its teachings, and have (albeit briefly) studied other world religions. I’ve also practiced and experienced a few different flavors of Christianity. Beyond that, the only reason you should listen to my opinions on this topic is because I’m your Dad, and sometimes I know things. That’s not to say I’m pulling this out of my ass, (I’m not,) or that I haven’t given this a lot of thought, (I have.) My expertise is just limited.
What do I believe? That many religions offer valid moral guidance on difficult topics, that they can help us be better people, connect with our neighbors, do good in the world, and provide some peace in the face of everything we don’t understand about our universe. And there’s a fuck-ton of stuff we don’t understand about our universe, including who made it, why they did that, if they give a shit about us, and what happens to us when we die.
Which is scary. And religion offers answers to these scary questions. Different religions offer different answers; more on that later.
Religion can also be a force for incredible good in both our lives and our communities; it inspires and has inspired humans to do amazing things.
On the flip side of that, some religions and/or religious sects are forces for incredible bad. In fact, they just plain blow ass. Some blow a little ass, and some blow all the ass there is to blow. Avoid these people and their idea of God.
For example, the Westboro Baptist Church is less of a church and more of a hate group. They rose to fame by picketing American soldier’s funerals with signs like “God hates Fags.”
Newsflash: God does not hate Fags. If God actually exists, and if God is a He, why would he hate anyone, let alone people he allegedly made?
In Afghanistan, The Taliban claimed “policies guided by Islam” prevented women from attending school and working in society and used stonings, amputations, and executions to punish citizens who violated these rules.
Newsflash: These policies are not guided by Islam, they’re guided by assholes who use religion to subjugate and control people.
The Crusades killed shitloads of (between one and nine million) people. Exact estimates vary because it was a long-ass time ago and records weren’t really a thing.
Newsflash: I would know more about secular motivations for The Crusades if I hadn’t slept through an entire semester of Mr. Giles European History seminar in high school.
My point is, humans have used religion to justify some really awful things. But, the problem in each of these cases isn’t the religion, it’s the people using that religion to do awful things.
So, when speaking of the tangible effects of religion, it’s a mixed bag. I want to say it’s much more positive than negative, but that’s just my intuition and certainly a debate worth having. Assuming you can find someone who wants to debate it with you.
Don’t debate religion with people who don’t want to talk about it.
Just don’t.
Ever.
I can say that if you use your brain and look at the teachings and doings of a particular brand of faith with clear eyes, you can usually figure out whether they’re good or bad for humanity and society in general.
Love thy neighbor?
Good.
Fly a plane into a building and kill thousands?
Bad.
Don’t murder?
Good.
Force people to believe and pray the same thing as you?
Bad.
Feed the hungry?
Some of us would add a work requirement to that policy because of all the hungry who won’t get a job, so that one might not be as easy to answer as it might seem.
Easy or not, you can still look at those principles and make a judgement about each of them. You can see what each religion teaches, how its followers implement those teachings, and the effect they have on society and the world.
I’m not saying it’s an easy call, but it is a call you can make by weighing observable facts--e.g., a church might provide food and aid to disaster victims and spiritual comfort and community to millions but also have a history of covering up sexual abuse of young boys by its priests. That’s a complex decision. But, you weigh the positives and negatives, and you make one.
Your Mom and I make that decision based on our values. Other people make different decisions based on different values.
I’m giving you a difficult task, I know. What is right and wrong, after all? What moral values do you use to evaluate a place that teaches you moral values? Check out Lawrence Kohlberg’s stages of moral development for his thoughts on the different ways we make moral decisions. This is an unrelated can of worms for you to open some other time. In the meantime, ask yourself these two questions when you’re evaluating a religion:
1. If something doesn’t feel right, ask yourself why. Poke at it until you can tease out what doesn’t seem fair, okay, or good. And if someone tells you to stop asking questions and get in line? Get the fuck out.
2. Watch for hypocrisy. Not the little ones, but the big conceptual hypocrisies, e.g., “Jesus says to love your neighbor but we don’t love those people because we have reasons and stuff they did.”
Ugh.
When you’re trying out churches and evaluating religions, consider both the denomination and the specific church (I’m using church as a catch-all for any house of worship, not intentionally excluding mosques, temples, halls, etc.) in your location. For example, Buddhism isn’t the first religion that comes to mind when I say “embezzlement,” but if the monks at the Buddhist temple you’re visiting all drive Ferraris and wear diamond plated grills, you (and your money) might do more good elsewhere.
And then there’s the intangible — the afterlife. That is, what each religion tells you about what happens when you die. You can’t evaluate these teachings empirically because death is a one-way transition. And even when someone dies a little bit and then is revived, all we have to go on is what they say they experienced.
Newsflash: they don’t always tell the truth or completely recall what they experienced. This really complicates things, because for many religions, that afterlife is a big (if not the biggest) selling point.
Some religions teach that believing a specific dogma will land you in paradise for all eternity, while others believe entrance to the afterlife is earned through certain deeds. On the flip side of that, some use the threat of eternal punishment to encourage belief; they preach fire and brimstone and everlasting torment wait for you in Hell if you don’t behave on Earth.
But, no matter what kind of afterlife a religion pitches you, whether it’s reincarnation, eternity in paradise, or the threat of never-ending nut punches from Beelzebub’s big fists, they can’t prove any of it is real.
You just have to believe. That’s the “faith” component. And this is where I get hung up. Because there’s always a part where you just have to believe. And usually, I don’t. At one point I did, but I couldn’t ever find answers to my questions that really satisfied me. I asked, I read, I thought about it, and I wasn’t satisfied with the answers I found.
That’s because we don’t know what happens when we die. And that’s scary.
No, scary isn’t strong enough.
It’s terrifying.
As humans, we’re driven from birth to survive, to do anything it takes to stay alive. And while the unknown is generally frightening, accepting an unknown that goes against our strongest inborn instinct is way, way beyond frightening. And that’s part of the appeal of religion.
As Matthew Inman put it in his webcomic The Oatmeal, “Does it (religion) help you cope with the fact that you are a bag of meat sitting on a rock in outer space and that someday you will DIE and you are completely powerless, helpless, and insignificant in the wake of this beautiful cosmic shitstorm we call existence?”
For lots of people, the answer to that question is “Fuck yes, it does.”
For me, it’s a reluctant “not really.” I’d like to believe I’ll end up in paradise with all the people I love for all eternity, drinking juicy IPAs and eating giant piles of spicy chicken and black bean nachos with melted cheese all the way through while I sit in a recliner made of clouds and watch Randolph Childress cross up Jeff McInnis over and over and over, but I can’t seem to convince myself that’s the case. I struggle with the metaphysical aspects of religion, the miracles, the afterlife, the magic.
Fortunately, belief isn’t required to find magic in a church. “Come on, Dad,” you say. “Of course you have to believe.”
Nope. You don’t.
Good worship services transcend the mundane, inspire us to be better people, connect us to our neighbors, and give us hope when life is busy pooping on our dreams.
I’ve felt that magic. And I’m comfortable believing what I believe because I’ve found denominations that don’t demand strict dogmatic adherence, a.k.a. they are okay with my bullshit.
I once heard a friend invite someone to visit a church we both attended. The someone in question said, “Oh, but I’m an atheist.”
“That’s okay,” my friend said. “You’ll fit right in.”
I encourage you to figure out what works for you and let others figure out what works for them. And please, don’t be the insufferable prick that goes around pointing out logical inconsistencies in other people’s belief systems.
Remember, you might be wrong. I might be wrong. We all might be wrong and living in a simulation on a twelve-year-old’s computer.
I’ve been that argumentative butthole and would not recommend it. Just like nobody wants to hear about Our Lord and Savior Xenu of the Galactic Federation, nobody wants to hear why Sister Beatrice may or may not be full of shit.
As long as someone else finds peace and happiness in their definition of faith and God, let them have it. That is, until they start waving it around or trying to stick it down your throat. At that point, you have my eternal blessing to argue as much as you want. Otherwise, in the words of my friend Dan-O, “Bro, don’t harsh the mellow.”
So, that’s what I think about God and religion. It took me a long time to figure that out, so I don’t expect you to have a handle on it right away. Take your time, ask lots of questions, and talk to people about it. And someday, I hope you figure it out for yourself too.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.