06 Jan 2012: Speaking of Jesus...
Posted by: Andrea English
As a one-time missionary (Believe It or Not!), I have legitimate reasons for my mild contempt toward evangelical religions in particular. It's a simple and uninspiring tale of a young woman with low self-esteem trying to fill a void with a belief. (Spoiler alert! It didn't fit.) After years of careful observation of Baptists in their native habitat and much rational contemplation, she abandoned the excruciating anxiety of living under the faith vs. works conundrum. She chose instead to stoically face a cruel and random universe, armed only with her cynicism and doctor-prescribed meds. Anyhoo, one result of this voyage of nonbelief is that things like this tend to irritate me:
Click on the images if you care to read the text of these pamphlets.
These pearls of Good News were carefully and conspicuously placed on the visitor check-in desk of the New Jersey hospital to which my mother-in-law had just been admitted. My husband and I were a little worried—his mother had suffered a major stroke only hours before and been airlifted from her local hospital to this one. You can imagine the sense of peace and comfort that washed over me when I read, "Death: It Happens Every Day". What a compelling yet reassuring title. And it was only the gateway to a tiny trilogy of enlightenment! I had to have them—a voice was urging me, "Take these My child. Please". (The voice was mine—I often think to myself.) So I stuffed the bits of Biblical condensation into my purse. I couldn't bear the thought of them being carelessly tossed into a convenient recycling bin. If anyone were to deliberately throw them into the trash, or worse yet, burn them, I wanted to make sure it was done right. As it turns out, these tiny pieces of Western religion have become the pithy souvenir of the only time I've ever watched a loved one die.
Published by Fellowship Tract League, which happens to be a Baptist endeavor, these pamphlets have had a powerful impact on my life. Maybe I should let the Fellowship Baptist Church know that their pamphlets have removed any possible doubt I may have had that there is a god, while their logo has proven that it doesn't take talent to get work from people who can't tell their ass from a hole in the ground. It's like a Rorshach test: is it a pitcher (jug perhaps?) inside a hamster ball? Is it a poorly drawn silhouette of a rodent in a hamster ball?Is it a globe with all the continents smooshed together by God's love? Like God Himself, graphic designers work in mysterious ways.
Please do not misunderstand me. I am in no way mocking a true personal belief in God (or ethnic equivalent). My mother-in-law was a devout Catholic and she drew considerable comfort from her beliefs. Just as I would never have tried to dissuade her from her convictions, she never once criticized or condemned me for my views. She never tried to get me to go to church, although I am sure she prayed for me everyday. For that kind thought I am grateful. However, had she been born into a different belief system, I know she would have been the same generous and kind person. Her faith did not define her and it did not create her. If there is a heaven, and for her I hope there is, I know that she was welcomed—not because of the church she attended, but because of the person she was. If everything she was died with her, I know that she will never again suffer and will always be loved by those who knew her.
That being said, I think that Catholicism—as an entity—and every other known religion that ruthlessly indoctrinates their followers and aggressively proselytizes the ignorant, are a blight on humanity. The fact that the dispenser of these tracts would attempt to take advantage of people, who were very likely emotionally fragile, was insensitive and utterly lacking in empathy. If you really want to be a positive ambassador for Christ, show some compassion. WWJD? Not be a dick.
Click on the images if you care to read the text of these pamphlets.
These pearls of Good News were carefully and conspicuously placed on the visitor check-in desk of the New Jersey hospital to which my mother-in-law had just been admitted. My husband and I were a little worried—his mother had suffered a major stroke only hours before and been airlifted from her local hospital to this one. You can imagine the sense of peace and comfort that washed over me when I read, "Death: It Happens Every Day". What a compelling yet reassuring title. And it was only the gateway to a tiny trilogy of enlightenment! I had to have them—a voice was urging me, "Take these My child. Please". (The voice was mine—I often think to myself.) So I stuffed the bits of Biblical condensation into my purse. I couldn't bear the thought of them being carelessly tossed into a convenient recycling bin. If anyone were to deliberately throw them into the trash, or worse yet, burn them, I wanted to make sure it was done right. As it turns out, these tiny pieces of Western religion have become the pithy souvenir of the only time I've ever watched a loved one die.
Published by Fellowship Tract League, which happens to be a Baptist endeavor, these pamphlets have had a powerful impact on my life. Maybe I should let the Fellowship Baptist Church know that their pamphlets have removed any possible doubt I may have had that there is a god, while their logo has proven that it doesn't take talent to get work from people who can't tell their ass from a hole in the ground. It's like a Rorshach test: is it a pitcher (jug perhaps?) inside a hamster ball? Is it a poorly drawn silhouette of a rodent in a hamster ball?Is it a globe with all the continents smooshed together by God's love? Like God Himself, graphic designers work in mysterious ways.
Please do not misunderstand me. I am in no way mocking a true personal belief in God (or ethnic equivalent). My mother-in-law was a devout Catholic and she drew considerable comfort from her beliefs. Just as I would never have tried to dissuade her from her convictions, she never once criticized or condemned me for my views. She never tried to get me to go to church, although I am sure she prayed for me everyday. For that kind thought I am grateful. However, had she been born into a different belief system, I know she would have been the same generous and kind person. Her faith did not define her and it did not create her. If there is a heaven, and for her I hope there is, I know that she was welcomed—not because of the church she attended, but because of the person she was. If everything she was died with her, I know that she will never again suffer and will always be loved by those who knew her.
That being said, I think that Catholicism—as an entity—and every other known religion that ruthlessly indoctrinates their followers and aggressively proselytizes the ignorant, are a blight on humanity. The fact that the dispenser of these tracts would attempt to take advantage of people, who were very likely emotionally fragile, was insensitive and utterly lacking in empathy. If you really want to be a positive ambassador for Christ, show some compassion. WWJD? Not be a dick.
Frank Moraes wrote:
1. Jesus was often a dick. I'm not exaggerating here. All people have to do is read the fucking Bible.
2. Those motherfucking Christians who hang out at hospitals trying to get converts are nothing but vultures. (Did you know that vultures are all blind? It says so in a Joseph Heller book so it must be true, and it's a damn sight more believable than Jonah living for three days inside a whale. "No! The Bible says it was a big fish!" Oh! Then it's totally believable!)
3. Your mother-in-law *is* at peace. This whole life thing is very interesting and I'm glad I got the chance to suffer through this mirage that we call existence. But when it's done, I know that I will go to Heaven, Nirvana, Disneyland, whatever. Unlike just about every religious person, however, I know this eternal bliss is not a place, it is a not place, a not time, a not being. And that thought is one of the most comforting ideas I ever have.
4. I have little tolerance for religious people. ("Really!?") But I find Christians especially insipid. It says right in their fucking book all that they need. 1 Corinthians 13:11, "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways." (This is from the *English Standard Version*--considered among Bible scholars are far superior to most, but by no means the best. What?! You want me to hunt down a copy of the *New English Translation* just for a comment?) Belief in Christianity strikes me as no more reasonable than belief in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. No, wait! I take that back. As a child, there is actual evidence for SC and TF: gifts and money! What did Christ ever give a Christian than can be proven? Nothing. Even that warm squishy feeling doesn't come from Christ. It has to do with brain chemistry. How can our country ever grow when 83% of us cannot give up the most childish of things?