1. On How “OK” It Is To Openly Discuss Religion
Just to clarify, I’m angry, primarily, at Christianity, as opposed to Christians. And I know a lot of Christians are angry at Atheism, too. It’s OK to talk about it. It’s OK, as well, to disagree (strongly) during the talk and I am not obligated to like what you have to say, but it’s still OK to talk about it. We’re all stuck in the same existence, anyway, so we might as well.
2. On Hating Christianity, Not Christians
It’s come to my attention that many people think I hate Christians. Let me clarify.
I do not hate Mother Teresa, but I hate the Christianity that drove her to despair.
I do not hate the lgb teen Christian sitting in the pew, but I hate the bible verses that caused them to feel they had to choose between giving up romantic love and hell.
I do not hate the Christian woman who prays to be healed of cancer instead of going into treatment, but I hate the Christian doctrine of prayer that led her to trust in God more than medicine.
I do not hate the Christian couple that put their life savings in the offering plate, but I hate the Christian con that convinced them to do it.
I do not hate the parents who teach their children Christian principles that they were once taught, but I hate that the parents, also, were told they needed to be saved from themselves in Sunday School.
Etc. Etc. Etc.
I don’t hate Christians. I love Christians, and that’s why I hate Christianity.
3. On Feeling Love
There is more love in humanity than we give it credit for; people just have a tendency to externalize love as “God” because they feel unworthy of it, and the chasm between ourselves and our own love that we have externalized causes us to hate ourselves, and because we are afraid of this hate we externalize it, too, and call it “Satan.”
I know I do not love alone. I know I’m part of a vast process that nobody fully understands. But this I do know: I’m part of it. So I don’t have to earn access to love; it is mine simply because I’m here. No apologies, no guilt, no subservience, no externalization necessary. The love I feel is mine, and the love I see in existence is all of ours.
I’m worth it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.
4. On The Christian’s Concern About My Morality
Hell in Christian theology does not exist to punish the evildoer — if the “evildoer” agrees with your standing as a Child of God (and is part of the “club” himself through this belief in God) then he is not punished. Statistics show that Christians committ traditional sins about as much, and in some cases more, than non-Christians. So Hell does not exist in theology in order to punish people for doing bad things.
You have a high standing in Christianity. It is naturally a human impulse to accept people who enrich that standing, magnifying their value, and reject people who challenge that standing, minimizing their value. This is why hell exists: to diminish the standing of those who criticize the God-given standing of Christians. And while this may be offensive, it makes a LOT of Christian action make more sense (the accusations, the hurt feelings, the insistent proclamations, the street preaching, the multiple denominations, etc.). This explains why belief that validates your position with God, not right action, is the primary requirement for avoiding hell.
When people ask about morality, then, they are often asking, “Why do YOU think I am person to be treated with respect and deference and love, since you don’t believe in my standing with God?”
Because I do. And I don’t need the threat of hell to do that. I respect you because I think you’re worth it, in and of yourself.
5. On Hating God
I hate the God of the Bible and I don’t believe in Him. But I love religious people (and people in general) and I believe in them. So, even as I rant and rail against Christianity, and don’t pull punches when someone attacks my nonbelief, and regularly critique the things Christians claim to believe, I think it’s extremely important that I don’t lose sight of what it was like to be a Christian, that I keep in contact with the Christian community, and that I show that I believe in them even if I don’t believe in their Bible’s God. And maybe that belief in something that exists will fade allegiance to what does not, extinguishing it with the power of a hug (or a firm handshake with a genuine smile, if you prefer).
6. On My Most Generous Opinion Of Jesus
I think Jesus loved people. I think he cared about people. I think that he maybe had some ideas that weren’t true about himself. I think some of his words are useful, just like some of most men’s words are useful. I think some of his words have damaged culture and crippled individuals in the way that they’ve tried to operate in the world. But I don’t hate him. I don’t have a vendetta against him. I’m not shaking my fist at him. I just think he was wrong. He was somebody with good intentions that was wrong; that’s what I think. And I’ve been there. I’m probably there right now. So I don’t hate people in those positions. It’s not a personal attack. Sometimes people are right, sometimes people are wrong. Sometimes I may be right, sometimes I may be wrong. I may be wrong all the time. But the best I can do is be honest with myself and be honest with the way I’m looking at the world and be honest with other people. And, in the midst of that honesty, try to make the world the best place I can make it in the best way I know how. And that’s what I’m trying to do. I hope you can understand that. Thanks.
7. On How I Find Peace
I live knowing I was always here and will always be here, because pulsating through every infinitesimal part of my being is the energy behind the matter. And energy cannot be created or destroyed, so neither am I.
I am part of the energy in the universe. I will always be. I have no need for additional assurances. That is plenty. And as I sit here and feel the core of my being here in the silence of this room, staring alone as the pixels mark the page to someone I can’t see on the other end, or maybe to no one at all, I feel peaceful. Let the world rush, let the love spark and die, let hate burn and ignite, let the world spin like a top and the universe tower above me, and I, steady and calm and still and deeply meaningful in my own right, will feel peace.
8. On How Ridiculously Offensive Christianity Tends To Be
Sometimes I am passionate about debate concerning Christianity. At other times, I take a step back and the whole thing looks so ridiculous that I wonder why it is not a open and shut case. Virgins don’t have babies. Dead men don’t rise from their graves after 3 days of being stone cold dead. People generally do not walk on water. Paul was wrong; women should not be kept silent in any organization, let alone the church, regardless of the context. Nobody I know who is breathing actually turns the other cheek regularly in everyday life. Maybe in a few strategic instances, but not in everyday life. No one gives all they possess to the poor or give to everyone who asks of them. The entire Bible is incredibly inconsistent– you generally have to bend over backwards to make all the texts seem to match and even then it is very questionable. People don’t deserve to spend an eternity in Hell simply because they don’t believe an ancient book that was compiled over 300 years after the fact by the politically expedient command of a Roman emperor and that has so many errors in it that we are not sure what the originals look like — originals which themselves were, for the most part, compiled from other sources which were not very reliable either, most likely, even if they had been talking about things that made some semblance of sense.
It is absolutely dumbfounding to me that people think I am going to hell because I don’t believe such a fantastic story on such flimsy evidence. It’s worse than being disowned, pitied, or seen as deserving of Hell because you don’t think the Tooth Fairy exists. It is hard for me to believe that I once believed this story the more I see outside of it, like waking out of a ridiculous dream.
One thing that kept me from continuing in Christianity is that I could not tell people who I knew did not deserve it that they were going to hell. It astounds me when people have the balls to say anything similar to me, and then expect me to just take it politely while treating their ridiculous beliefs with respect they refuse to give my very rational, perfectly normal doubts, and even myself as a human being. No. I will respect you as a human being, but I have absolutely no respect for your beliefs. And that is not unfair: I am on the higher ground here. I still respect you as a fellow human being; I am NOT the one saying that you deserve corporal punishment for disagreeing with me.
Whether you like it or not, if you say you believe in the Bible, that is exactly what you are telling me and everyone else who does not agree with that book. And yes, that realization was one of the reasons I left. Christianity may get a moral pass, but it is an overwhelmingly cruel system and I didn’t have the stomach for it, especially as it was untrue.
9. On Why I’m So Obsessed With Christianity
I’d like to move past Christianity. I would. Really. The world is SO much more interesting without it. But it seems like every time I reach for that more interesting world, Christianity pops up again in some way, shape, or form — family, friends, politics, and roadblock-constructing assumptions in society.
The old problems stay problems, for the most part, and new ones crop up every day.
And I’d leave except…. The problems would still be there.
10. On The Question Of Whether I Wanted To Become An Atheist So I Could Sin
If I wanted to be an atheist just so I could “sin,” I wouldn’t be an atheist. I’d be an In Name Only Christian. Much easier in the Bible Belt.
I’m an atheist because I care.
11. On Whether Leaving Christianity Was Selfish
You know…for a while, I think I really believed there was probably a place I would be tortured for all eternity if I left Christianity. But I cared so much for people supposedly going to hell that I couldn’t stop studying and thinking about it, trying to figure out how to convince them to be saved — although the more I studied and thought, the more I felt in danger of losing salvation myself. It was a hard place. It was excruciating.
People have told me that my decision was selfish. I don’t think there’s anything wrong, necessarily, with selfish decisions, in and of themselves…but, honestly, when I was struggling with the concept of hell, I saw the flames in front of me. I pictured the torment in tears and terror. Unlike most Christians (from what I can see), I really expected and imagined the flames burning my flesh forever.
It was a hard choice. Everything that seemed good and naturally right to me, for the most part, said to stay with Christianity.
But I cared too much. Even though I THOUGHT I WOULD BURN IN TORMENT FOREVER…full of fear, I held the hands of strangers I loved and began the dangerous journey of trying to understand them. I knew that this empathy was dangerous to every hint of my well being, and it was tense and hard and dark. But when the push came to shove, I looked humanity in the eyes, side by side with a burning pit of sulfer, and said for the love of it,
“Alright then; I’ll go to hell.”
Maybe I am a selfish person. But I know this: that choice was the bravest, most selfless thing I’ve ever done in my life.
12. My Reaction To The Church Going Out Of Its Way To Accept The LGBTQ Community
Once I (a black man) went to a predominantly white church and an older (white) gentleman came up to me and said, “I’m SO glad you’re here. Y’know…that’s one thing I like about this church. We like ALL kinds of people here. All kinds. I mean, this church is so tolerant; you’re going to love it here. Anyone can come in. Doesn’t matter if you’re white, or you’re black…” he went on this vein for about ten minutes.
That awkwardness I felt…that seems analogic to the way the lgbtq community feels when the church applauds itself and allows others to applaud them for being so “accepting” of the lgbt community.
Actually, it’s probably worse, because a lot of churches go out of their way to “accept” the lgbt community without stating that their sexual activities aren’t sins.
13. My Reaction To Christians Who Apologize On Behalf Of The Church
“I’m so sorry that Christians were so mean/didn’t teach you the right gospel/didn’t emphasize grace enough/weren’t Christlike/didn’t love you enough. I just want you to know, I’m a Christian and I’m not like that/I don’t preach that because I love people, and I just want to share the grace of Christ with you in love, man. Because I’m no better than you; when it comes down to it, we’re all sinners. It’s JESUS who saves us. If someone lied to you and said that Christians are better or didn’t tell you enough about God’s grace, I’m SO sorry.”
First, nothing you said there is original. You’re doing the very thing you’re apologizing for, and I’ve heard it a zillion times before.
Second, you’re assuming that I’m wrong, and I don’t agree with you. But rather than engage in honest discourse about it, you just pity me in my assumed wrongness — without any logic or proof behind it; nothing but your tears. I’m not wrong on Christianity, so your pity is a waste of time and it kinda frustrates me/pisses me off.
I mean, I guess that’s kinda better than heartless nothing. But I what I REALLY want is for you to LISTEN TO ME instead of having a funeral. Because I’m not attending it. Because I don’t care how sorry for me you feel — it doesn’t make you RIGHT. And that’s really what I care about. Because if you’re gravely wrong, as it seems extremely clear to me you are, it doesn’t matter how you frame it or cry about it or apologize for it — you’re still conducting your life and influencing mine in a terrible way, and you need to change it up.
14. On How Dealing With Christians Has Made Me Less Surprised About People Doing Bad Things
Honestly, when a bombing happens or a terrorist attack or a murder or a kidnapping…it doesn’t faze me anymore. People are like, “How could you do something so terrible???” And because I’ve had to figure out, for my own psychological health, how Christians can defend the genocides of the Old Testament without batting an eye, and defend the concept of hell, I get numb. I shrug. I totally get it.
It’s child play compared to this blind support of the concept of hell. Serial killers just torture for a while and kill. Most Christians praise a God who supposedly allows/enacts (depending on your theology) eternal torment (or something like it, again, depending on your theology). I still can’t get over that.