Baby Dies, but God Finds Keys

You may recall that I wrote a piece last summer in which I asserted, citing a Christian source, that God is a lousy babysitter. I’m sorry to say that I have more evidence to support that assertion.

Today’s edition of the Washington Post includes the tragic story of a 16-month old Baltimore boy who was starved to death by his caregivers (the snotty little tyke refused to say “amen” at mealtimes), then stuffed into a suitcase and transported to Philadelphia, where his remains were abandoned in a shed.

The part of the article that I find fascinating is this (emphases added):

Psychiatrists who evaluated Ramkissoon at the request of a judge concluded that she was not criminally insane. Her attorney, Steven Silverman, said the doctors found that her beliefs were indistinguishable from religious beliefs, in part because they were shared by those around her.

“She wasn’t delusional, because she was following a religion,” Silverman said, describing the findings of the doctors’ psychiatric evaluation….

Silverman said he and prosecutors think Ramkissoon was brainwashed and should have been found not criminally responsible; prosecutors declined to comment. Although an inability to think critically can be a sign of brainwashing, experts said, the line between that and some religious beliefs can be difficult to discern.

“At times there can be an overlap between extreme religious conviction and delusion,” said Robert Jay Lifton, a cult expert and psychiatrist who lectures at Harvard Medical School. “It’s a difficult area for psychiatry and the legal system.”

I recognize that Richard Dawkins’ selection of The God Delusion as the title of his recent book was, at least in part, a marketing ploy. But, when one reads the story cited above and contrasts it with the one below, one is inclined to think that Dawkins actually, perhaps somewhat unwittingly, called it right (perhaps the title was inspired?).

Karyn (yes, the one who imagines that Jesus is her boyfriend) wrote a post this past week about how she lost her keys – couldn’t find them anywhere – prayed about her dilemma, had a colleague pray too, and voilá – the keys were found! Praise God for all blessings great and small. (He obviously focuses solely on small blessings now – finding keys, appearing on grilled cheese sandwiches and the like).

Now, I ask you: who is more delusional? The believers who starved a child to death for not reciting their mantra, or the narcissist who imagined that a deity observing the affairs of 6.7 billion people gave a damn about her keys? What kind of a deity allows one set of believers to starve a child to death, but spares another believer the expense of cutting a new set of keys? Obviously, the legalistic beliefs that led to the death of a child are far more destructive than the self-centered belief of the key lady. Nevertheless, both sorts of beliefs (and all other similar ones) are delusional. Humankind needs to grow up and discard all such nonsense on the trash heap of our juvenile, superstitious, less enlightened past.

– the chaplain

 

The Boyfriend

A strange phenomenon that plagues Western Christianity is a genre of songs that some have tagged as “Jesus is my boyfriend” music. The oldest song of this type that I know of is attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, who lived in the 12th century:

Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see,
And in Thy presence rest.

Sweetness filling my breast at the mere thought of my beloved strikes me as pretty erotic imagery (is it me, or is it getting warm in here?). The remainder of this stanza is not so overtly erotic, but it doesn’t need to be – the tone has already been set, very effectively, by the first two lines.

Moving on to the 18th century, if you thought Charles Wesley was a stodgy old Methodist, you may change your mind when you realize that he penned the words,

Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly.

If you ask me, those lines don’t leave an awful lot to the imagination. In fact, they’re so suggestive that I was never able to sing them without squirming in discomfort. I don’t know if I was more disturbed by the thought of someone other than my husband making love to (my soul or any other part of) me, or because I wondered what Jesus’ bosom would be like. Hairy or clean-shaven? Solid pecs or flabby?

The 19th century brought us Fanny Crosby. Among the many insipid gospel songs she wrote was this one:

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershadowed,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.

My goodness! Jesus has a hard time keeping his breast to himself. I ask you, how can straight men possibly sing these words without blushing? I can barely manage to do it.

C. Austin Miles may have outdone Ms. Crosby, though, with his evocative 19th century gem:

I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and he talks with me,
And he tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

How romantic! A garden, evening dew, walking and talking together, enjoying an exclusive relationship – and a prefiguring of Burt Bacharach:

Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you!

The Jesus is My Boyfriend genre of worship music is still thriving. The folks at Hillsong (this one’s for you, Sean and Oz) are pretty adept at it:

Closer than my thoughts
Closer than a kiss
How could it be
More intimate than this?

I’m sure some of you can think of suggestive creative answers to that question.

Since you’re probably getting saccharine overload, I’ll forestall potential lawsuits and finish by citing the post that stimulated this whole line of thought. This little bit comes from a song about Jesus, which is entitled – I kid you not – My Romance:

Look at the way the flowers bloom for You
They want to show You their beauty
Running waters dance
You and I romance.

If you check out this lady’s sidebar, you’ll find the following note:

ABOUT ME: I’m hopelessly in love with Jesus (He’s drop-dead gorgeous). He’s hopelessly in love with me (He thinks I’m ‘to die for’). What more is there to say?

What more is there to say? Plenty. This lady imagines that some dead guy whom she’s never seen (and whom some will argue never lived in the first place) is drop-dead gorgeous. She imagines that this dead guy loves – present tense, not past – her enough to have died for her and come back to life so that he could spend eternity with her. Does she love him

a) because he’s hot,
b) because he’s God (and/or God’s Son, however that works), or
c) because he loved/loves her enough to die for her and – she hopes – come back and take her to heaven with him?

What do you think? Is she repressed or just living out a weird Cinderella-style Some Day My Prince Will Come fantasy?

Whatever the answer to that question is, the only sense I can make of this sort of religious faith is that it’s juvenile, pathetic and degrading.

– the chaplain

 

How Religion Ruins Relationships

Max knows that he will be dead before the end of the year – probably no later than October. That’s about the time that doctors expect his cancer-riddled body to lose the fight for life. Max, who is not a Christian, is the manager at the branch office of a Christian business. His boss, Mr. Stanley is deeply concerned about the fate of Max’s eternal soul. In addition to soliciting prayers for Max (particularly his soul) from other employees, Mr. Stanley sometimes visits Max at his office. They chat about business, life in general and, eventually, Max’s “need for salvation.” Last week, Mr. Stanley took a chaplain, a fellow named Raymond, along with him to visit Max.

Max shared with me a few things about last week’s pastoral visit. He began by saying, “I love Raymond. He’s a really great guy. So is Mr. Stanley. But, sometimes I don’t hold my tongue very well when they start talking about religion. I just don’t want to talk about it. And Mr. Stanley doesn’t always hold his tongue very well, either, so our conversations can get heated.”

After we chatted some more, Max said, “Mr. Stanley wants me to fly out west to spend time with my sister. I said I’d take a couple of days for that. Mr. Stanley said, ‘No, I want you to really take time and be with your sister.’ I don’t want to do that. I haven’t told her how bad my condition is because she’ll get on the religious stuff even worse than Mr. Stanley and Raymond. A couple of days of it is all I’ll be able to stand.”

As we wound down our conversation, Max said, “Mr. Stanley keeps telling me that he’s praying for a miracle for me. I just tell him it’s not likely to happen. I enjoy visiting with Mr. Stanley and Raymond, but I wish that sometimes they’d come over just to chat and joke with me.”

That last sentence makes me want to cry. It’s haunted me for two days. Max has six months to live and all he wants is for the people around him to accept him. He wants friendship, not evangelism. How often do Christians become so concerned about someone’s soul that they overlook all of the stuff that comprises a person’s life and personality? Mr. Stanley and Raymond genuinely like Max, but he’s also something of a project for them. Their primary concern is to get him saved before he dies. Their prayer requests on Max’s behalf invariably include the idea that “Max needs to come to know the Lord before he dies.” I don’t want to denigrate their concerns, because I understand all too well how deeply felt and sincere they are. But, their passion for Max’s soul is robbing them of the opportunities to appreciate Max just as he is and to enjoy his company in its own right. They’re so busy focusing on what they see as his eternal future that they are shortchanging the present. Max’s sister is making the same mistake and the consequence is heartbreaking: Max can hardly stand the thought of spending more than a token amount of time with his only living relative. Mr. Stanley, Raymond and Max’s sister all believe they have relationships with a god. What they don’t realize is that their belief that Max needs a similar experience is seriously straining their relationships with him. Religion is ruining, or, at the very least, damaging, precious human bonds. I find that very sad.

– the chaplain

 

Who Ya Gonna Call?

Times are tough. People are losing their jobs and their homes – and AIG intends to spend the public’s money on retention bonuses for the idiots who ran that company into the ground. What do people who aren’t getting golden parachutes do in uncertain times?

Some suck it up and get on with life the best they can.

Others go to church. According to one report, “Throughout Los Angeles County and the nation, ministers and rabbis say they’ve seen dramatic increases in attendance in recent months as people worried about the worsening economy and turmoil in the world turn to religion.” According to another, “when a crisis hits, it is natural for people to drift toward institutionalized religion or spirituality…People are hoping to find comfort and a source of optimism.” In addition to hope and optimism, some churches are offering practical assistance by helping to pay bills and providing food. And, the Family Research Council’s Tony Perkins opines that, “as the economy goes downward, I think people are going to be driven to religion.”

Those who don’t opt for church seek other sources of comfort and advice. CNN reported last month that business is booming for Roxanne Usleman, a psychic based in Manhatten. According to a more recent report in USA Today, “Valerie Morrison has less time for love these days. The Philadelphia psychic says clients who once obsessed about romantic prospects are too worried about their economic future.” The report goes on to say that “psychics, astrologers, palm readers, Tarot card shufflers, numerologists and other paranormal specialists have become the rage as investment advisers and brokers appear clueless.”

Aside from the fact that some churches are offering material support to those in need, I see little difference between prayer and fortune telling. As far as I can tell, both tactics have about the same chances of success. So, what are you going to do – dial a prayer, dial a psychic, or just keep on keeping on?

– the chaplain

 

The Wager

I recently cross-posted A Look at Liberal Christianity over at the De-Conversion blog. I do that occasionally, when I think a post might generate some interest among the readers of that blog. Some of those readers come here occasionally, but, by and large, the blogs have two different sets of readers. Anyway, the post generated quite a lot of interest over there and several liberal Christians have been engaged in an extended dialog with several of De-Conversion’s regular crowd. It was only a matter of time – comment 105, to be exact – before someone would toss Pascal’s Wager into the mix. What follows is my response:

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Chris said: I give up, what bad thing will happen to me if God isn’t real? And then, what bad thing will happen to you if he is?

It took awhile, but someone finally played Pascal’s Wager.

Okay, rather than just poking fun (in case you don’t realize it, Chris, Pascal’s Wager is so familiar to us de-converts that it’s really a joke among us and not taken at all seriously), I’ll answer the questions.

Question #1: What bad thing will happen to you if God isn’t real?

Probably nothing much, as long as you don’t consider a lifetime spent worshiping a non-existent being, a lifetime trying to please said being, a lifetime giving your time, energy and money to maintain the institution that perpetuates belief in and obedience to said deity and his spokespersons as wasted time. And I realize, with utter respect and sincerity, that you may honestly disagree with me about this. I realize that you may simply take lots of pleasure in all of these activities regardless of whether the beliefs and commitments that underpin them are founded. I realize that you may simply enjoy the fellowship and company of other believers so much that the truth values of the Christian ties that bind you together are not as important to you as the ties themselves. I disagree with such positions, and they may not be yours at all (or anyone’s, for that matter). I’m just saying, that, from your point of view as a believer, there seems to be little to lose by believing – so long as you consider the life you hope is to come to be more important than the life that you have now.

Question #2: What bad thing will happen to me if God is real?

If the God in whom you believe is real, then, I’m toast – forever. Badly burnt and miserable, at that.

Here’s the problem with this wager. It assumes a dichotomy: your God (YHWH) or no God. That’s a false dichotomy because people have believed in thousands of gods over the years. Moreover, those people have all believed that their beliefs were as well-founded as you believe your beliefs are. Judaism, Christianity and Islam are not the only religions that have had complex oral and written traditions about their gods, traditions that have been preserved and expanded for thousands of years. Judaism, Christianity and Islam are not the only religions to have been preserved, passed on and presided over by priests of one sort or another. Judaism, Christianity and Islam are not the only religions that have ever bound people together in cohesive, caring (and, unfortunately, sometimes manipulative and abusive) communities. In short, Christianity just isn’t as unique and special as Christians often think it is.

I know you think that the Bible is qualitatively different from the Quran, or the Book of Mormon, or the Bhagavad Vita. But, that simply isn’t true. The Christian scriptures have lots of factual, as well as simple scribal, errors. The Christian scriptures have lots of contradictory passages that can’t be reconciled without putting one’s brain into overdrive on the illogical setting. Perhaps the most damning point is that the Christian scriptures provide incoherent portraits of God. In fact, some early Christians believed that the god of the Old Testament couldn’t possibly be the same god as that of the New Testament – they were acutely aware of the inconsistencies of character across both sets of writings.

So, to get back to your question, Pascal’s Wager is no more dangerous for me than it is for you. The highest probabilities are either a) there is no god, or b) we’re both wrong and whatever god exists, is nothing like you believe he/she/it is.

I should have added that, if the answer is b), we both had better hope that the deity is either indifferent to humankind, or benevolent towards us. Otherwise, we could all end up being toast or worse. I’m pretty sure the answer is a), though, so I’m not going to lose any sleep over the issue.

– the chaplain