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You celebrating  a guilt-free Halloween this weekend?

Lucky you. According to a recent poll by Lifeway, just a full fifth of the American population — about 21% — won’t celebrate Halloween at all.

It’s mostly due to Christianity. Yeah, there’s the occasional nonreligious person who wants to stay out of all the hullabaloo — according to the poll, about 11% of nonreligious people want to avoid Halloween (while about 75% are pretty goddamn enthusiastic about the deal). But for the most part, it’s Christians.

23% of Christians say they plan on avoiding the holiday completely, what with the demons, and witches, and all.

I know, I know. The poll does say that 45% of Evangelicals and 71% of Catholics think Halloween is “all in good fun.” Which is interesting, considering how many of them believe the ghosts and goblins of the Bible are real.

But still… 28% of Evangelicals think Halloween is a thoroughly bad idea. And only 54% of the Christian population is comfortable celebrating the date without any reservations.

Then there’s the other group. That group that will celebrate Halloween…but without its “pagan elements.” This group makes up 14% of the population (and, combined with those who won’t celebrate the day at all, that’s a total of 35%, or about a third of America). Unsurprisingly, Evangelicals make up the majority of this group — 23% of them will avoid the pagan elements of the holiday.

How do you do that, you ask?

Oh, they have zinger ideas. One was this thing called Jesusween. Yeah. Clever. Here is their website — the brilliant idea was to hand out tracts and Bibles and preach the good news on Halloween. You can tell they thought it was gonna be huge — but in spite of the catchy name, the articles on the site are all dated 2012. They have a Facebook page — but it hasn’t updated since March 11, 2015. So…yeah. It’s still functional, but things are fizzling out.

I wonder why. I can’t imagine what people would rather do than take a tract or Bible and listen to the gospel on Halloween. “Jesusween.” Seems like a rather…small affair now. This “ween” wasn’t quite as big of a deal as they thought it was…ah, well.

However, there’s a booming business in having kid-friendly alternatives to this event that don’t go out to evangelize but seem to “keep it in the family” a bit more. Several churches have an event that’s fun for kids — with rides, games, food, the works — and slyly sneak a tract into a kid’s candy bag or something. The strategy is simple — get the parents through the kids. Bell Shoals Church is one example of many:

For Bell Shoals Baptist Church in Brandon, Fla., Halloween is an opportunity to let its community know it is a family place, said Debbie Weisemann, the church’s minister of guest services, prayer and community outreach.

“It’s a strong outreach for us because it’s good at getting the community in,” she said.

The alternative event at Bell Shoals is done as a Trunk or Treat featuring classic cars such as Chevys from the ’50s and ’80s and Cadillacs from the ’80s for the dads, as well as bounce houses and games for the kids.

Every candy bag a child receives contains a “Light up the Night” evangelism tract, which Weisemann described as a great opportunity for them to know the Gospel.

Last year, Bells Shoals had a turnout of about 1,500 kids and parents.

“We’re finding, at Bell Shoals, that people drift away from church as they get older. But when they have children they feel the need to come back to church,” Weisemann said.

A bit smarter to have the people come to you, rather than you going to them.

But what do they do if you really want to put the scary element in Halloween?

Oh, they have something scarier, arguably, than your everyday Haunted Houses. No, really.

Hell houses!

Here’s a description of one in Alabama that’s open right now:

Visitors are taken through an emotionally charged journey that climaxes with the dramatized death of two teens, killed at the hands of an armed robber. The teens are then judged in the afterlife, either rewarded with a trip to heaven or thrown into the fiery pits of hell.

“There’s so many people that won’t go to a church because of all the hypocrisy and whatnot.” Says Heath Aderholt, Youth Pastor at Cottage Hill and head organizer of Judgment Day. “This is a good way to reach all of those people.”

So, this is what you’re going to do — Entice people who are disgusted with the church’s hypocrisy and show how the Christians are going to hell and you’re going to heaven because Gawd, and do it as vividly as you possibly can? Genius!

How comforting. What a perfect place to take a bunch of pre-teen girls from a shelter for abused women and girls.

No, I don’t just have a warped imagination. Because that actually happened, in the same story:

Each group has a guide, who takes them through a drama playing out over a series of rooms, answering questions, and explaining the plot line.

I was placed in the first group of the evening: consisting of several pre-teen girls from a shelter for abused women and girls.

The action starts with a mother and two teen daughters doing homework at a dinner table.

The older of the two girls is complaining to her mother that her boyfriend does not want to come to church. The mother tells her that she ought to be persistent about asking him.

The young couple is then depicted at a meeting in the park after church (with mother’s permission). After the boyfriend rebuffs her request once again to attend church, a loud, hooded robber emerges from the darkness demanding money. The boyfriend refuses and the robber shoots both of them to death.

This is the first time the girls in my group started to scream and sob….

How heartwarming.  But wait, there’s more.

Later, in the so-called judgment room, visitors are asked to fill out an information card with their name, age, address, and home church. It’s from these cards that an actor playing God reads the name of those in the group and tells each in turn that their name is not in the Book of Life, condemning them to hell.

In the room depicting hell, visitors are confronted by the devil and his minions. An actor speaks through a voice modulator and chides the group for their wicked ways.

The girls weep and comfort one another in the darkened corridor that leads us to heaven.

And then the happy ending:

We are shepherded down a flight of stairs and into the “counseling” part of the experience.

It is here that a member of the church asks the members of the group if, given their ordeal, they would like to be saved. According to Aderholt, of the just over 1000 people who go through Judgment day each year, between 100 and 120 are saved.

All of the girls in the abused shelter group elected to be saved that night.

And that was just one group, picked at random. If you live in Pleasant Grove, Alabama, you can still visit! It’s open tomorrow night from 6-9pm, right in your local Cottage Hill Baptist Church.

So much better than regular Halloween, isn’t it? Maybe even scarier, you think?

And if you want to go to one, they’re all over the country. There’s even a company called “Judgement House” with the tagline “Tour Your Final Destination” that has a chain of these, um…attractions.  On their website, they talk about how 10% of those who go in come out making “first-time professions of faith” after seeing the prospect of them burning in hell. Praise God.

These judgment houses are now all across the nation. The nearest one to me is down in Corpus Cristi, at Bethel Temple Assembly of God Church, a good couple hours away or so, but check it out — there might be one for you!

OK. As excited as I know you must be, I gotta come out and say something here. It is absolutely and thoroughly disgusting that people are taking advantage of Halloween to brainwash people — even pre-teen girls from abuse shelters — to be terrified to death of hell so that they are coerced into being fundamentalists for life.

Anyways…yeah. That’s what those not celebrating or otherwise avoiding Halloween may be into.

Not your style? There’s another option here. Like going to a haunted house, seeing a scary movie, and going to a costume party. You could do that, too.

Just sayin’.

Thanks for reading.

 

When I say that I’m an anti-theist, a lot of people think that means I hate people who believe in God. This might be due to the semantics of the word “anti” and “theist” may equal, in some minds, “against theists.”

This is not the case, however. I do not hate Christians. I hate what Christians believe.

There are some who say that this is impossible — that the mentality here is as errant as the adage, “love the sinner, hate the sin.” But I think that’s, fundamentally, a false equivalency. In saying I’m a “sinner,” the “love the sinner, hate the sin” maxim indicates that I’m evil to my core — I’m a sinner who, on some fundamental level, deserves eternity in torment. It is only through the grace of God that I can be saved. Far from merely saying that I’m wrong, or that my beliefs are harmful, most Christians will say that I, personally, deserve eternity in torment.

To be completely fair, most Christians will hasten to add that they, also, deserve eternal punishment. I think that doesn’t let them off the hook, for reasons I’ve explained elsewhere. But, just the same, any way you slice it, that is a personal insult to my core.

In contrast, in saying I hate what Christians believe, not their status as people, what I’m telling the Christian is that they are fundamentally wrong about the existence of God, and that belief in this existence is harmful. Not that they are fundamentally bad people, but that they are wrong.

To make the difference clear, let me show you an example.

If someone is building a bridge and the dimensions are drastically off, you might let that person know, “I don’t like your measurements.” Now, others may not think that your dislike is overpronounced. Still others may think you’re wrong. But when you’ve done your calculations carefully and found that building the bridge would result in the literal wrecking of thousands of lives due to major flaws in its engineering, you have a right — no, an obligation — to speak up.

You may voice your position stridently. You may urge people to see it. You may scream it, at times, at the top of your lungs, if people seem focused on ignoring it. You may be outspoken against “compromises” that you think will still be disastrous. And all that does not necessarily mean that you hate the person who came up with the plans to build the bridge.

You just think they’re wrong.

The whole game changes, however, when, in addition to saying the person is wrong, you start saying that the person who miscalculated the bridge plans is a bad, evil person who deserves eternity in torment. That’s hating the person. That’s when it gets personal. That’s why “hate the sin, love the sinner” is different from “hate the Christianity, love the Christian.” In the first case, you’re still calling the person a sinner, deserving of eternal hellfire. It’s a personal insult. In the second, you’re not necessarily insulting the individual personally; you’re just saying that the ideology they hold happens to be wrong. For my part, although I will say that a Christian is wrong, I will never, ever, ever say anything remotely close to implying that a Christian deserves eternity in hellfire.

Part of the reason that I don’t think most fundamentalist Christians are bad, terrible people is that I have fundamentalist family members and friends. Heck, I used to be a fundamentalist myself — and though I have made a 180 degree turn, I cannot say that, back then, I was a bad, terrible person. I was horrendously wrong, ignorant, and prejudiced, yes. But I did care about people — and I think a lot of fundamentalists do. I was just really, really wrong.  Like I was, many fundamentalists are just trapped or tricked or just misled into having faith in a God that isn’t there.

This viewpoint causes me to clash with atheists who are more open to religion and with progressive Christians, who often seem to imply that there is something fundamentally bad about the psyche of a fundamentalist.

Now, I know that there are some fundamentalists who are just obnoxious people, and I know that from the outside looking in, they all look like obnoxious people sometimes. And yes, most of them seem clearly hypocritical. But I also think that they are more honest, oftentimes, about what the Bible actually says than progressive Christians. For example, I do not think the main reason many of them are against homosexuality is that they are just bad people who want to twist the Bible into saying that homosexuality is bad — as the progressive Christians often seem to claim. No, the Bible actually says that, fairly clearly, it seems — for example, the Old Testament seems to out-and-out say, in most translations, that homosexuals should be stoned to death.

By the way, this is why I did not find progressive Christianity a believable option for me. It seemed, honestly, that many of them were twisting Bible verses or simply making it up as they went along — and then using what they came up with to convince other people to do decent things based on “faith” in the God they had molded. My big beef with this is that it used the very faith that is a problem in the first place — the very divorcing from reality that is the bedrock of so many fundamentalists acting against the best interests of the real world, in spite of their often not-so-evil intentions — and seeks ways to continue to validate it.  In validating this divorce from reality by highlighting God, it insulates the concepts of God and faith — which seem to be the real problems — from criticism. And fundamentalists are caught in the middle: they are told to follow God and have faith, but when they try to do it honestly, following the Bible and church tradition as faithfully as they can, they are told that they are bad people (when they often, frankly, seem to be the ones most honest about what’s in the Bible and in church tradition).

This status of being caught in the middle creates a disturbing wall between fundamentalists and the rest of humanity.  And I think that this insulated wall is why Fundamentalist Christianity — in spite of all its criticism from progressive Christians, many atheists, and society in general — is holding up far stronger than any other Christian affiliation.

Again, I do not think the innate “badness” of fundamentalists is the real enemy. The real problem is that these Christians do not realize that God does not exist and that faith is a bad idea. And that’s why I’m an antitheist — not just in respect to Christianity, but in respect to god-centered religion in general, because they all seem to be sourced in a god who doesn’t exist who, nevertheless, you have to have faith in.  I think the concept of God is fundamentally wrong, does a lot of damage, and that this honest position is superior to one that ignores the God “virus” at the center of religion’s harm in order to deal with the disturbing “symptoms” of bad behavior — an inaccurate focus that is often based on the assumption that fundamentalists are generally terrible people.

This does not mean that I think getting rid of God will automatically create a better world, of course. But I do think that we have to deconstruct the unquestioned authority of god and the blindness of faith if we are going to have a chance at seeing each other and existence as it is, as opposed to what a lie tells us it is. And in seeing the world in this honest, rational way, I think that we can develop solutions to the problems that we face that work, and that we can work with people and existence as it actually is so that our best intentions actually become beautiful realities in the real world instead of our worst nightmares — so those looking to help don’t, in the midst of their honesty and sincerity — actually hurt.

There’s a lot more to say about this, but hopefully that clarifies some things.

Thanks for reading.

We are all “atheists” with respect to Zeus and Thor and the thousands of other dead gods that now lie upon the scrapheap of mythology. — Sam Harris

Most Christians don’t believe in Zeus, but believe fervently in God. Whenever I tell them, “I don’t believe in God, just like you don’t believe in Zeus,” they persistently insist that the comparison isn’t remotely fair.

Um..not everyone thought so. Like the apostle Paul, who said that the existence of God was kinda like the existence of Zeus.

So, in Acts 17 Paul is walking through this city, Athens, and he sees a shitload of idols there. This pisses him off so, naturally, he goes talk to the Epicureans and Stoics in the area, and they were all, “WTF?” Like, to them he was speaking gibberish. Look:

While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols [the horror!]. So he reasoned in the synagogue with both Jews and God-fearing Greeks, as well as in the marketplace day by day with those who happened to be there. A group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers began to debate with him. Some of them asked, “What is this babbler trying to say?” Others remarked, “He seems to be advocating foreign gods.” They said this because Paul was preaching the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.

So what Paul was saying was just…weird. Out there. And they were all, “What is he talking about?” But, being open minded people, they decided to listen.

So Paul continues trying to explain it. And as he’s defending his explanation, he uses a couple quotes. Right here:

God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’

Who is Paul quoting there? In the original text…in whom do we live? In whom do we move? In whom do we have our being? We’re the offspring…of whom?

Zeus.

No, really.

Here’s the first quotation in context, in Epimenides’s Creatia:

They fashioned a tomb for thee [O Zeus], O holy and high one-
The Cretans, always liars, evil beasts, idle bellies!
But thou art not dead: thou livest and abidest forever,
For in thee we live and move and have our being.

Let’s stop there. What is this tomb for? And why is Epimemides calling Cretans “liars”?

Well, it’s because the Cretans thought that Zeus was born, lived a mortal life, and died. They also had a tomb for him, and many apparently believed that he was reborn every year. But in saying Zeus was a dying god with mortality, they were pretty close to atheists for the rest of the Greek world, who insisted, as Epimenides did in this poem —  that Zeus wasn’t dead, and that he will be alive forever.

What that means is that Paul literally took from the apologetics to defend Zeus’s existence against the atheists of his day — book, chapter, and verse — and basically said, “Yeah, that verse about Zeus? That’s the guy I’m talking about.”

So when we atheists compare God to Zeus — Paul was the one who started it, making the two synonymous.

And Paul by no means stops there. You see that nasty little ad hominem attack against the Cretans, calling them “liars, evil beasts, idle bellies”?  That’s profoundly insulting and is not at all an apologetic, I think you’ll agree. Obviously the protection for Zeus’s status for a deity was poor.

And yet, in Titus 1:10-13, Paul QUOTES from the nastiest, most transparent, absolutely worst defense of Zeus as a defense of his own theology:

For there are many rebellious people, full of meaningless talk and deception….They must be silenced, because they are disrupting whole households by teaching things they ought not to teach…. One of Crete’s own prophets has said it: “Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.”^cThis saying is true. Therefore rebuke them sharply, so that they will be sound in the faith and will pay no attention to Jewish myths or to the merely human commands of those who reject the truth.

It turns out, again, that when atheists compare the defense of Zeus to the defense of the Christian God, they’re not exaggerating. Paul actually did this — actually, again, seeming to make the Christian God synonymous with Zeus.

Now, here’s the second part of that Acts 17 quote in context, from Aratus’s Phaenomena:

From Zeus let us begin; him do we mortals never leave unnamed; full of Zeus are all the streets and all the market-places of men; full is the sea and the havens thereof; always we all have need of Zeus. For we are also his offspring; and he in his kindness unto men giveth favourable signs and wakeneth the people to work, reminding them of livelihood. He tells what time the soil is best for the labour of the ox and for the mattock, and what time the seasons are favourable both for the planting of trees and for casting all manner of seeds. For himself it was who set the signs in heaven, and marked out the constellations, and for the year devised what stars chiefly should give to men right signs of the seasons, to the end that all things might grow unfailingly. Wherefore him do men ever worship first and last.

Zeus. Literally talking about Zeus.  About worshipping Zeus, about Zeus’ commands, about his laws and everything he rules over…Zeus.  So, to the listening crowd, when Paul said, “We are his offspring,” he was literally saying “We are Zeus’s offspring.”

Now, I’m not saying that this is the be all and end all of Christian apologetics.  I know that they have a lot more up their sleeves.

But this is to say that apologists can’t say that the comparison to Zeus is unfair. Not believing in the Christian God is about as commensensical as not believing in Zeus.  This is not a far-fetched, outlandish claim. Rather, it’s an argument not just made by atheists, but also by Paul, the leading theologian of the Christian faith.

The comparison is absolutely fair, and the weakness of the arguments — the argument for Zeus and the one for the Christian God — both seem transparent.

Just sayin’

Thanks for reading.

“Which passages of Scripture should guide our public policy? Should we go with Leviticus, which suggests slavery is ok and that eating shellfish is abomination? How about Deuteronomy, which suggests stoning your child if he strays from the faith? Or should we just stick to the Sermon on the Mount – a passage that is so radical that it’s doubtful that our own Defense Department would survive its application? So before we get carried away, let’s read our bibles, now. Folks haven’t been reading their bibles.” — Barack Obama

“A few years ago I used to start my class on the New Testament, with something like 300 students in it, by asking, ‘How many of you in here would agree with the proposition that the Bible is the inspired Word of God?’ Almost everyone raises their hands. ‘OK, great: Now, how many of you have read the Harry Potter series?’ Again, almost everyone raises their hand. ‘And now, how many of you have read the entire Bible?’ This time: scattered hands, here and there, throughout the auditorium.

“Then I’d laugh for a minute and say, ‘OK, so I’m not telling you that I think the Bible is the inspired Word of God; you’re telling me that you think it is.   I can see why you might want to read a book by J. K. Rowling.   But if God wrote a book *chuckles* – wouldn’t you want to see what he had to say?’” — Bart Ehrman

“Properly read, the Bible is the most potent force for atheism ever conceived.” — Isaac Asimov

One of the most annoying things about Christians who tell me that I should read the Bible is that, oftentimes, they don’t seem to know what I’m talking about when I refer to religious texts; they seem to have a fairly low bible literacy, overall. And this isn’t just a fluke — there’s quite a bit of evidence to indicate that, for all their fanfare about how important reading the Bible is for ex-Christians and non-Christians, most Christians don’t even read the Bible much themselves.

In my experience, ex-Christians tend to have read the Bible much more frequently than most Christians. In my own case, I read the Bible plenty for years. For about a couple years or so I took it in with me to work every day and read it often during my lunchbreaks. I memorized hundreds of verses — because I thought it was the Word of God and I wanted to know what it said. I spent hours reading over it, poring over it. And this went back to high school — it’s why I won seven and got second place once out of the ten Bible Bowls I attended. Fast forward to my deconversion — towards the end of my being a Christian, my Bible reading and praying was at an all-time high. No, this is not an anomaly, or I’d be more hesitant to share it — I’ve heard similar stories from several ex-Christians I kn0w. 

If Christianity were false, by the way, this is what you would expect — those leaving the religion would be the ones who had studied it most intently.

And I’m also just saying that to say that, given what I claimed to think, that still wasn’t enough. If the Bible was really God’s word, why wasn’t I more obsessed with it? Why didn’t I read it every waking hour?

But here’s the thing — the absolutely INFURIATING thing — most Christians who loudly insist on tying people down with the Bible, and judging people through the eyes of the Bible, hardly even read it that often. As a 2012 survey from Lifeway Research found:

When asked how often they personally (not as part of a church worship service) read the Bible, a similar number respond “Every Day” (19 percent) as respond “Rarely/Never” (18 percent). A quarter indicate they read the Bible a few times a week. Fourteen percent say they read the Bible “Once a Week” and another 22 percent say “Once a Month” or “A Few Times a Month.”

That’s 80% of Christians who will actually admit to not reading the Bible every day. Extraordinary. And, if a Barna Group poll is any indication, the number of Christians who even read the Bible weekly may be going down. In 2012, the number was about 48% of people reading the Bible once a week or more. Granted, this group focused solely on Christians, but a 2014 Barna Group survey focusing on the entire American population came up with even more extreme results:

Only 37% of Americans report reading the Bible once a week or more. Among those who have read Scripture in the previous week, not quite six in 10 (57%) say they gave a lot of thought to how it might apply to their life. While the Bible’s place in America as a cultural icon endures, it’s not always perceived as a transformational text. Even as Bible ownership remains strong, readership and engagement are weak.

People don’t really care about reading the Bible these days. Which is strange. If you think that God is speaking through the Bible — even remotely — wouldn’t you read it?

Most recently, as the American Bible Institute found in a 2015 report:

The total proportion of Bible readers—that is, those who read the Bible at least three to four times a year—is 52%. One in seven adults say they read the Bible daily (14%); a similar portion spend time in Scripture several times per week (14%); 8% read it once a week; 9% read the Bible once a month; and 6% read it three to four times a year. Slightly more than one in four adults say they never read the Bible (28%).

One in 10 read the Bible less than once a year and another one in 10 report reading the Bible once or twice a year. These three segments combine to represent “nonBible readers” (48%), a segment that has grown by two percentage points since 2014. While the change is within the range of sampling error, the change since 2011 is statistically significant (25% in 2011, compared to 28% in 2015).

The only way such small readership even remotely makes sense is that people do not believe that the Bible is really as important as they claim it to be.

And, honestly, it’s probably a hell of a lot easier to support the God of the Bible if you’re not really reading about it. There are signs that the average Christian knows very  little about the Bible. In 2005 (when bible readership was even better than it was today, if the stats are to be believed), as an article in Christianity Today relates:

According to data from the Barna Research Group, 60 percent of Americans can’t name even five of the Ten Commandments. “No wonder people break the Ten Commandments all the time. They don’t know what they are,” said George Barna, president of the firm. The bottom line? “Increasingly, America is biblically illiterate.”

Multiple surveys reveal the problem in stark terms. According to 82 percent of Americans, “God helps those who help themselves,” is a Bible verse. Those identified as born-again Christians did better–by one percent. A majority of adults think the Bible teaches that the most important purpose in life is taking care of one’s family.

Some of the statistics are enough to perplex even those aware of the problem. A Barna poll indicated that at least 12 percent of adults believe that Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife. Another survey of graduating high school seniors revealed that over 50 percent thought that Sodom and Gomorrah were husband and wife.

Truly disturbing. Especially considering that, during the same year, 2005, Gallup did a poll finding that 76% of Americans wanted the ten commandments posted at a public building. 76% of Americans militant about the ten commandments being posted — and 60% of Americans can’t even name five of them, let alone all ten.

Argh….

So this is the frustrating thing. Christians, who often claim the Bible is God’s Word, don’t follow through with their actions by actually reading it. Instead, it seems, they pour that energy, by and large, into making sure that other people are respecting a religion they don’t know very well themselves.

I have to say — in my own experience as an atheist I’ve experienced a shocking lack of Bible knowledge in Christians. As a Christian I didn’t really recognize it; I didn’t have to argue about Christianity that much, and it didn’t come up in as much detail. But as an atheist who often calls Christians to account on what they supposedly believe, it is truly surprising to me how often Christians have no idea what they are so stridently defending.

And this makes me upset, because I’ve read the Bible. I’m an informed dissenter. Somewhere between the misogyny and the racist genocides and the outrageous miracles and impractical teachings and implausible salvation story, I saw that a lot of it just plain didn’t make sense. So a Christian who comes to me and scolds me about not reading the Bible enough, while they’re beating me over the head with it, when they apparently don’t even think the supposed Words of the Almighty God of the Universe are important enough to even read every day…it just strikes me as disingenuous. Almost as if they are more concerned about being superior and smug to me and not about the supposed Word of God being real.

Christians, read your Bibles before you start preaching it.

And you might be surprised — if you actually start reading it, you might understand where I’m coming from a bit more.  I’ve discussed, in previous posts, several reasons I am an ex-Christian who thinks the Bible is bunk, but chief among them?

I read the thing. A lot.

Maybe before being all militant about it, you should follow suit?

And if you don’t really feel like it…why not? You think it’s the Word of God, right?

…or maybe you don’t.

Just a thought.

Thanks for reading.

I’ve heard it before. The concern, the deep sorrow, the grim warning — “It’s your choice. But I love you, so I’m worried that if you don’t change, you’ll go to hell. I’ll pray that God touches your heart.”

Well, I guess you can go in the corner and pray that God fondles my heart. It’s a free country, even if that is kinda creepy. But I honestly feel sorry for you; seems like a waste of the only life you have, to be honest. I mean, I’m not going to hell, and you’re not going to heaven. We’re both going to rot in the same ground, so it’s a shame you’re wasting your time.

At the same time shouldn’t the thought that we’ll both rot the same way make you happy? I mean, wouldn’t you be relieved to know that I’m not going to hell, seeing as how you’re so “concerned” about me and all? Because if you’re not…maybe, deep down, you kinda still hope to be sipping champagne in heaven while looking at me in the flames and being all, “I told you so.”

That’s the deal with hell. It doesn’t exist, but it sure is a way to rub in superiority while showing faux concern — pitying the poor, ignorant, blinded-by-arrogance atheists who (the poor things!) will be roasting in hell forever if they don’t agree with you, bless their hearts.

Take Ken Ham’s recent article “Richard Dawkins’s Mind Is Closed,” for example. Ham states that Richard Dawkins, in spite of many arguments with his friends that supposedly contains “overwhelming evidence,” refuses to be convinced of God’s obvious presence (so sad!). As a result, Ham continues, “We need to pray for [Dawkins]. His heart is hard and he is blind.”

This from the guy who we saw debate Bill Nye. Bill Nye is awesome in that debate, but I don’t want to subject you to an hour of Ken Ham when there is a perfectly good 30-second summary of his main argument available:

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEZtF5IZxGE[/youtube]

Yeah……..

Anyways, poor Dawkins (Ken Ham mourns), with his hard heart and chronic blindness. What a tragedy (according to the man who thinks a superstition made up thousands of years ago is superior to evolutionary scientists because, um, it’s in a book).

And what will be poor, poor Dawkins’s penalty, according to Ham?

Dawkins has spent most of his life rejecting the writings of Moses, particularly Genesis, and trying to get as many people as he can to follow his rebellious lifestyle that leads directly to hell. Yes, we do need to pray much for him.

Lord, open Richard Dawkins’ mind, and let the light of the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ illuminate his hardened heart!

How…sincere, eh?

OK…look, Christians. Here’s the deal. We aren’t going to hell, you’re not going to heaven, and we’re both gonna die. If that messes up your whole superiority complex of laughing at tormented souls from your heavenly laurels, sorry/not sorry.

But the other thing is that, right now, we’re both alive. And we have an opportunity to actually bridge the divide and talk to each other before the end. So maybe before assuming shit about me based on what outdated tales say about me, you should humble yourself and respect me a bit as someone who maybe doesn’t deserve eternity in hellfire so that we can get to know each other a more while we’re here — not the person some book made up that we are, but who we actually are.

Because this is it, from the cradle to the grave, and we’re all in it together. So why not take advantage of the one life we have by actually getting to know each other, instead of wasting time talking to imaginary friends on our knees?

Just a thought.

Thanks for reading.

And now, this:

[youtube]https://youtu.be/8-3wIW1Rpiw?t=50s[/youtube]

For the umpteenth time, a Christian complained about the fact that socialists force people to give money to help the poor. Rather, he said, we should let people give of their own free will. Like the church does. And he mentioned some homeless ministries in his area. The argument is that we should look to the church to support the homeless; we shouldn’t force people to do it through taxes.

I looked up the stats for his area — Flagstaff, Arizona, in Coconino County.

I found out that, last count, there were about 388 or so homeless people in his county (which contains about 136,000 people), and last year alone the federal government had to spend $945,000 dollars helping them, in addition to extra help from the police and other “socialist” services.

I can guarantee that every single goddamn time I write a post criticizing Christianity, there is a comment I will hear ad nauseum.  People will insist that the Christianity I am criticizing is not true Christianity — there’s another more sophisticated Christianity out there that I’m missing, and if I really had the, like, decency and sophistication to see that what I was building was a straw man, I would be much more nuanced in my approach. If I really took Christianity seriously, I would either ignore the more pop-culture Christianity I frequently criticize, or take the time to “correct” it so that people would follow real Christianity.

When someone makes this criticism, I feel compelled to reintroduce myself: “Hi. I’m Peter. I’m an Atheist, which means I do not believe in God.”

This means, to spell it out, that I don’t think there is any “true” Christianity. In my view, it’s all bunk.

So it does not really interest me what a roomful of academics in Christianity think of Christianity unless what they think starts impacting culture in a serious way. I mean, to be dead honest, sometimes I think it’s interesting to look at — like a movie or something might be. But when it comes to criticizing Christianity, I don’t think there is a real Christianity, and I’m much more concerned about Christianity as it is practiced than in one that is believed by a minority of scholars who, honestly, often seem more obsessed with making Christianity more aesthetic than anything else.

I’m not interested in “fixing” Christianity. The whole thing is based on a lie, in my view; it’s  fundamentally flawed.

So, if I talk about people burning in hell and someone says, “Well, hell isn’t necessarily like that,” my response is: Who the hell cares? Hell doesn’t even exist. It’s all made up imagination. So if a whole bunch of people happen to believe that hell is a burning place of fire, I’ll mention that (and, often, other variations).

I don’t take Christianity seriously in the sense of trying to find out the “right” Christianity — not because I’m trying to be dishonest, but because I genuinely don’t think the “right” Christianity exists.

I take it seriously in the way it is practiced and the effects it has on people’s lives, and I often use scriptures to illustrate those effects. I may sometimes point out contradictions or harmful verses. But I’m not interested in the “true” version of Christianity, because that doesn’t exist; I’m interested in how it’s practiced, because that is very real.

And concerning how it’s practiced, here’s the thing I’ve noticed: Most Christians don’t give a damn about the fine points of theology. They don’t have Ph.D.’s in religious studies and, I would argue, they don’t need to in order to see that what they believe is bunk. It often doesn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that the story of a godman walking out of a tomb after three days of stone-cold-death is bunk. It just takes, in many circumstances, a bit of courage and some honest thought (in doses many of the most intelligent people I know don’t seem to have).

Now, if you believe something different than what I am saying you believe, we can engage concerning what you believe. But when I’m talking to Christians in general, as opposed to obscure sects or the beliefs of you as an individual, and I don’t address your particular view, that’s not a straw man. That’s not showing ignorance of “true” Christianity. That’s just a criticism of a view of Christianity that many Christians have that you happen not to have.

Seriously. I mean, there are a zillion types of Christianity, and I have yet to find two people who have the same theology, let alone two congregations, let alone two denominations. It’s impossible to cover everyone. But it is possible to cover prominent views and trends, which is what I’m trying to do.  There isn’t a true Christianity; there’s just Christianity as it is practiced and experienced. And, in various ways, that’s what I intend to critique.

Here’s another frustrating thing — sometimes I’ll criticize a view of hell, for example, and someone will say, “Well, that’s not the only version of hell out there; you’re naïve” — and then leave with the view of theology I criticized intact. No — the fact that there are other views than the one I criticized does not excuse your view (if I attacked it) from criticism. Again, if I’m attacking what you believe, let’s discuss that, instead of dealing with straw men you don’t really even believe to protect your original belief.

I’m interested in what people on the ground believe; not primarily the finer points of Christianity believed by a minority of scholars, and not primarily the “outsider-friendly” optional versions of Christianity that often protect the far more disturbing beliefs most Christians actually hold.  Honestly, sometimes I think people try to craft intricate webs of theology in order to have an excuse to ignore valid criticism of the overall picture based on the charge that it’s “unsophisticated.”  You can do this, but I don’t think, to use a figure of speech, that I have to engage intricately in all the theories of invisible thread to take a look at the overall picture and say that the emperor has no clothes.

It doesn’t have to be that complicated; you can make something that is clearly bullshit as intricate as you want — and it can still be bullshit. You can say #notallchristians as much as you want, but you might want to consider that the reason your view is unaddressed may not be because the logic of the person criticizing Christianity is flawed, but because your view of something we atheists clearly think is a lie isn’t prominent enough in our realm of experience for us to address it. If it were, we’d probably talk about it

So, in short — I don’t think Christianity is true, so I tend to criticize it as practiced rather than go on a rabbit’s chase for what the “true” version of the religion is.  Which makes sense, seeing as how I’m an atheist and all.

Hopefully that clears some things up.

Thanks for reading.

Neil Carter from Godless in Dixie is someone I deeply respect. I think he is empathetic, intelligent, an oustanding public speaker, and better than about anyone I know at building bridges between Christians and atheists.

But I disagree with something he said recently, and I’d like to talk about it. In the same spirit as two people might disagree on plans to build a bridge, so to speak, or an engineer might point out to another engineer why he thinks the figures might be “off” in a certain way. Just in discussion…

Recently, he wrote an article entitled “Can Atheists Learn Anything From the Religious?”  I read it with interest; it was an intriguing title.  I wasn’t disappointed, but its contents gave me mixed feelings.

First, I’d like to make clear a few places where I agree.

He stated that atheists often are overconfident and haughty when it comes to scientific conclusions. I agree with that assessment. It is difficult, sometimes, to know how much certainty can be attached to certain scientific propositions, and the conclusions of studies are frequently proven wrong.  So it is very likely that, in one area or another, atheists are overconfident when it comes to the results of studies — at times over-relying on them.

He also says that ethical dilemmas cannot always be solved by science — basically the Humean argument that no definition of “is” equals an “ought.” And I agree with this, as well. As Carter put it:

For example, science can teach us how to build new weapons and perhaps how to engineer new living organisms, but it cannot in itself tell us whether or not we should.  Ethical, social, and moral questions don’t always reduce down to mathematical models which generate the same choices and values that human beings would choose for themselves using their own consciences.

Absolutely true. Science can help us carve out a map of what our landscape of existence looks like, but that information alone doesn’t tell us where to go.

Further, I agree with him that these spaces are not best filled by the Christian God — that secular philosophy can help us find direction where what we learn from science stops. As he puts it:

I don’t think theologians have better answers than secular philosophy can provide. I mean, just because many of our questions remain unanswered doesn’t mean that we have to embrace magic or ghosts or the kinds of “mysteries” which the church tells you to accept even when they don’t make sense.  These gaps don’t have to be automatically filled with the same theistic goo, like the caulk builders squeeze into the spaces left in the construction of a new home.

All that is agreed. And that is quite a bit, I argue, that we agree on.

Before I move on, I’d like to make clear there’s another thing I agree with him on that, in agreeing with him, I’m also slightly disagreeing with him.  It’s here:

Fellow atheists give me a hard time because I talk a lot about fostering constructive dialogue between ourselves and people on the other side of the aisle, so to speak.  They protest and ask, “What good can come of maintaining conversation with people who believe nonsense?” I understand where they’re coming from, but my feelings on the matter are different for at least a couple of reasons.

Now, Carter goes into more detail here that seems important to consider, but I’d like to correct a misconception. I talk to Christians about Christianity plenty. So I agree that we should engage in “constructive dialogue” — but I also think that part of being constructive is being honest and straightforward, at least for me. That said, Carter is a very effective communicator, so what he’s doing is working for him. 

I think we have very different definitions of “constructive dialogue.” And in a way, that’s OK. Carter does not live my life and I do not live his. We probably have fundamentally different views on religion, which fuels our different responses. I have to be honest from mine, though.

Because here’s the thing: I’ve sat in a church pew for 28 years of my life being told a story people thought would make me happy that gave me a lot of pain because it wasn’t an honest story. It was dressed up to look nice, but it was a lie. And when I found out a lie had stolen so much of my life away, I left and more-or-less vowed not to tell people lies again. I know people disagree. But it is fundamentally against my constitution to lighten the truth concerning where I stand — and I am trying to be more honest and straightforward regarding my stance, not less. I’ve sacrificed a great deal in relationships and life in general to get to where I currently am in this pursuit.

That’s my story.

It’s not Carter’s and I don’t have authority to tell him how to live his life in this way. It’s different than mine. But I do think it’s reasonable to respond to people who give me what I think is bad advice for the context of my own experience.

Again, I agree that dialogue carries importance, and I’m obsessed with discussions on philosophy, religion, and politics. The primary reason for this blog is to provide an outlet for that obsession. I’m carrying on conversations, in various formats, with thousands of people a week, because this dialogue is extremely important to me. And from my perspective, this dialogue is constructive. It’s what I wish atheists had done for me more when I was a Christian — been straightforward about my beliefs being wrong, challenged me, and engaged me in debate. I honestly think there is value there.  Maybe it’s not everyone’s style or goal, but it’s mine.  It’s a part of who I am, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is OK.

OK, so now that this is out of the way — here’s where I disagree with Neil Carter:

I disagree that we should look to Christians for epistemic humility.  At all.

When Christians scold me for my pride, it’s almost always in the context of, “You don’t know anything — therefore you have to be open to the possibility x.”  “X” is often God. But this is not true. A more careful approach is to be closed to less likely possibilities and open to more likely possibilities — so that we employ caution (as opposed to outright confidence) in accepting, rejecting, and even considering different possibilities.

The problem with Christianity, in my experience (let me know if you’ve had a different one) is that it puts faith on a pedestal. “Faith” is a notoriously difficult concept to define, but in practice “faith” seems to be a gap-filler.

I have no problem saying that we should admit that there are things we don’t know. But I do object to learning this from someone who uses our lack of knowledge to say we should accept propositions through faith, instead of from someone who says we should be careful about attaching inaccurate weight to different possibilities in the face of uncertainty.

I’m saying this, in part, because what I learned about evangelism in church (and after) is that you’re supposed to argue your opponent to nihilism and, in the midst of the existential crisis you bring on your opponent, you are to drag him or her up from the dregs with the Good News of Jesus Christ. My current opposition to this model is fundamental — I don’t think an embrace of nihilism, or a dichotomy of faith/doubt, is the way to go. Rather, I think it is far better to carefully attach probabilities to what we do and don’t know, and try to make the best decision based on these probabilities that we can — without making “faith” in them a kind of innate virtue, and without despairing by thinking there is no real way (save “faith,” perhaps) to entertain some possibilities over others at all.

Hopefully that makes some sense. If not, feel free to comment and I’ll try to clarify.

One more thing — at the end of his post, Carter lists some things we could learn from the religious:

• The importance of passing ideas on to children, and taking the time to make that a priority.
• The value of intentional community, regular gatherings, and organized activities.
• The value of family, perhaps enriched even more by those who sacrifice professional goals to focus on the care of the children.
• Warning against the dangers of materialism and greed (depending on which kind of preacher they’ve got, of course!)
• Learning to unplug sometimes from the world of electronics just long enough to remember what it’s like to be a living thing.

And I agree with them, partly, and disagree with them, partly. I agree we should pass ideas to children, but in practice — at least for religious people, it seems — it too often works out that children are blatantly expected to follow in the footsteps of their parents’ beliefs (or face often unpleasant consequences).

I think there is value in community, gatherings, and activities — but I’m not sure that it has to be intentional; I think some people might enjoy informal, relaxed gatherings, and when I was going to church it did bother me, slightly, that pastors made you feel guilty if your gathering didn’t have a distinct purpose.

I value family, and my mother sacrificed her career to raise seven kids in the “Quiverfull” movement…but at the same time, parts of that experience have had me fundamentally reconsider the value of family as opposed to singlehood or unconventional definitions of “family,” and whether our society’s exaltation of parents who “sacrifice professional goals to focus on the care of the children” actually guilt-trips women into staying at home instead of pursuing the lives they really want.

I think it’s valuable to stay away from extreme materialism and greed — but at the same time, I think that we all have things we are passionate about, and as long as your love of fast cars and big houses isn’t harming your neighbor, there may be value in it for you.  

And regarding unplugging from the world of electronics to feel alive — I think that, sometimes, when I’m behind a computer writing, like I am now, to thousands of people is when I feel most alive. And I don’t think that’s anything to feel guilty about; it’s just who I am and it has become a way for me to express myself to people and for others to express themselves to me.

And I tend to think the way I do in the previous sentences because I’m not necessarily looking to learn from the “humility” or faith of religious people — I might (and, at times, have) but it’s been fairly coincidental. If you are — OK, knock yourself out. If it comes up and I have a disagreement on something in particular, we can talk about it. But this is where I stand.

It’s not like I’m not trying to build a bridge. More like I’m standing on a different part of the bank, so to speak.

Hopefully that makes some sense.

Thanks for reading.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXqwbU8z9aU[/youtube]

Exodus 22:18 says, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”

Here in the states, where we don’t take the Old Testament seriously and that verse is an embarrassment most Christians would prefer to ignore, it doesn’t have too much of an affect.

But as the influence of Christianity is waning in the West, fundamentalist Christianity is being exported to other populations.  And they, like the Old Testament “God,” apparently, do believe that there are witches.

In Swaziland, as recently as 2013, there was a law banning witches from flying above a height of 150 metres.

In the Central African Republic, as of 2010, witch cases took up 40% of the court system’s case load (You know how much we try drug crimes here in the states?  For reference, that’s only 12% of our case load).

In another story written in 2014 about seven witches killed in Tanzania (East Africa) it is noted: “A local rights group, the Legal and Human Rights Centre (LHRC), has estimated as many as 500 “witches” are lynched every year, based on reports that counted some 3, 000 people killed between 2005 and 2011. Many of those killed were elderly women.” 

Furthermore, here are some additional cliff notes on the problem from the United Nations Human Rights Office:

• Reports from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) suggest that most of the 25,000 – 50,000 children living on the streets of the capital, Kinshasa are there because they have been accused of witchcraft and rejected by their families. In 2009 The Committee on the Rights of the Child noted that in the DRC “violence against children accused of witchcraft is increasing, and that children are being kept as prisoners in religious buildings where they are exposed to torture and ill-treatment or even killed under the pretext of exorcism.”
• The Special Rapporteur on violence against women has highlighted the problem of witch hunts in India, Nepal and South Africa.
• In Ghana it is thought as many as 2,000 accused witches and their dependents are confined in five different camps. Most of the camp inmates are destitute, elderly women and some have been forced to live there for decades.
• The murder and persecution of people accused of witchcraft in Tanzania is better documented than in most countries. The figures vary widely but it is estimated as many as a thousand, mostly elderly Tanzanian women are targeted and killed annually.
• In Angola, the Committee on the Rights of the Child has called for “immediate action to eliminate the mistreatment of children accused of witchcraft”.
• In Papua New Guinea, provincial police commanders reportedly said there were more than 50 sorcery-related killings in 2008. Other sources have suggested much higher figures.
• In Nigeria, the Child Rights and Rehabilitation Network reports an increasing number of children abandoned or persecuted on the grounds they are witches or wizards.

“Yeah,” the Christian states.  “That has to do with local customs.  Completely and totally.  It has nothing to do with the wonderful love of Christ in the Bible.”

If that’s the case, though you may have a remarkable set of rose-colored glasses here in the West as you send your missionaries out and send out your Bibles (I did once, too), the hard, brutal truth is that, currently, the killing of witches has a LOT to do with the Bible right now.  And it’s extremely harmful ignorance to pretend that it doesn’t.

Because among the Christian churches, the ones most accused of witches….

Are children.  Ages 4 to 10.

This is no surprise.  The Bible’s attitude towards children is fairly disturbing. There are places in the Bible that say that parents who spare the rod hate their children, that folly is in the heart of children and the rod is needed to drive it out, that tell parents to “not withhold” punishment with the rod if they want to save the child’s soul from death, that state that a rod and reprimand brings wisdom but an undisciplined child is a disgrace, and that even state that disobedient children must be stoned to death.

“Get them while they’re young” seems to be, more or less, the Bible’s strategy.

Now, I know that here, you’re problem saying, “Oh, that’s just cultural. We don’t really believe that today, because if you interpret it like xyz, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

Whatever.  Here’s the thing: Not everyone has those tools.  And I think that we should not be giving them an Old Testament with these things in it if we think they are unhealthy ourselves.

Because when we do, people do unspeakably horrific things.  I mean — these parents care about their children. They are killing them, in spite of the pain it does to their own hearts and to their children’s wellbeing, because of a verse in a Bible we sent over.

To be explicit, I think we need to skip exporting Bibles (or, at least ones containing these verses) abroad; they are hurting people.

As The Guardian put it back in 2007, in Nigeria, where “almost everyone goes to church,” pastors have begun accusing children of being witches and offering to perform exorcisms on them.  As the article states:

In a maddened state of terror, parents and whole villages turn on the child. They are burnt, poisoned, slashed, chained to trees, buried alive or simply beaten and chased off into the bush….

Even if the parent wants to keep the child, their neighbours may attack it in the street.

This is not just a few cases. This is becoming commonplace. In Esit Eket, up a nameless, puddled-and-potholed path is a concrete shack stuffed to its fetid rafters with roughly made bunk beds. Here, three to a bed like battery chickens, sleep victims of the besuited Christian pastors and their hours-long, late-night services. Ostracised and abandoned, these are the children a whole community believes fervently are witches.

Why is this happening? The Huffington Post, in and article provided by the associated press, stated in 2010:

The idea of witchcraft is hardly new, but it has taken on new life recently partly because of a rapid growth in evangelical Christianity. Campaigners against the practice say around 15,000 children have been accused in two of Nigeria’s 36 states over the past decade and around 1,000 have been murdered. In the past month alone, three Nigerian children accused of witchcraft were killed and another three were set on fire.

Nigeria is one of the heartlands of abuse, but hardly the only one: the United Nations Children’s Fund says tens of thousands of children have been targeted throughout Africa.

This is truly tragic.  And there is proof that this belief is rampant in the theology in several African countries. For example, take this article  written by authors in South Africa:

The research has clearly shown how witchcraft has been a serious problem amongst God’s people throughout the history of humankind. For that matter, Africans can in no way justify the value of witchcraft to their lives (cf. Nyirongo 1997:186). Similarly, Africans cannot claim confusion over the condemnation of witchcraft because the principles derived from both the Old and New Testament clearly demonstrate God’s denouncement and punishment of witchcraft. The church cannot condone such practices in any way and must make a concerted effort to oppose it in every way. As previously noted in this article, the belief in witchcraft is found in all Africans societies and it is the responsibility of the church to counsel those members who still struggle with this issue. On balance the principles derived from the Bible may serve as part of the foundation to resolve and clear up any uncertainty about witchcraft in the lives of Africans.

What does “a concerted effort to oppose [witchcraft] in every way” look like in practice? Torturing children.

This needs to end. This isn’t about points on the Christian side vs. points on the atheist side. This is about something that is terrible and tragic and horrible that the Bible is aiding and abbetting. It needs to stop. Really. Like, can you hear me shouting through this screen? Stop it. Stop it. Stop sending Bibles with that verse in them to Africa. Stop supporting those ministries. Just stop it. Please.

Some people, thankfully, are trying to make a difference — among them the Africans Unite Against Child Abuse group. But faith groups — including groups in the UK — refuse to take serious action to stop this from happening because of the Bible, and so children continue to be tortured and killed for being witches:

AFRUCA runs different programmes for helping families, and works with organizations, particularly churches, because many parents justify their methods by referencing cultural or religious values. ‘Spare the Rod and spoil the child is one she hears often.  AFRUCA works with churches to help them understand how to change their views and practice so as not to harm children.

They say they’ve reached over 2, 000 parents in the course of their work. Although Ariyo hesitates to criticize church groups, she says that in most cases and AFRUCA deals with about 12 cases a year –they are usually linked to a particular church; not all churches do these things and it’s important she stresses, to distinguish between churches that do and churches that don’t.

Despite that nuanced approach, AFRUCA’s ongoing campaign for the UK government to make calling children witches illegal, hasn’t got much support from faith groups, because the idea of witches is biblically sanctioned. Church groups will support their work on harm-prevention for children but won’t support a ban on calling children witches, many citing passages from Exodus that instruct ‘ do not suffer a witch to live’.

In fact, one of the witch-hunting churches from aforementioned Nigeria is setting up shop in the UK.  A man named David Oyedepo is a major pastor in Nigeria, and his organization David Oyedepo Ministries International planned in 2014 to put a school smak dab in the UK. And its justification was those same scriptures:

A statement on the David Oyedepo Ministries International website links “disobedience” with “witchcraft”, stating: “As far as God is concerned, disobedience is as terrible as witchcraft. 1 Samuel 15:23a says: For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. May God not catch you as a witch. His Word also says, “Do not suffer a witch to live” (Exodus 22:18).…”

This is serious. And it shows no signs of slowing down. As the New York Times reports:

Far from fading away, thanks to digital interconnectedness and economic development, witch hunting has become a growing, global problem.

In recent years, there has been a spate of attacks against people accused of witchcraft in Africa, the Pacific and Latin America, and even among immigrant communities in the United States and Western Europe.

And that last part is true — in the UK this is becoming an increasingly serious problem. 

Now, I’m not saying that the ENTIRETY of the killings are due to the Bible. But it would help a shit-ton if people quit evangelizing in those areas, bringing a Bible that says, “do not suffer a witch to live” with them. As the Times continues:

Another factor, particularly in Central Africa and its diaspora communities, is the advent of revivalist churches, in which self-styled pastor-prophets rail against witchery and demon possession. They often claim to specialize in the casting out of evil spirits, sometimes charging for the service. Many of those congregations have emerged from Western evangelizing efforts.

So…I’m asking…stop bringing the Bible to Africa — at least those problem verses. Let’s start telling the truth and embracing it ourselves, because lies hurt people.

Witches do not exist.

People do. There are no demons, no angels, no God. There’s just us and the one life we have to love our friends, family, and neighbors.

Let’s get on that. Please. At least think about it.

Thank you for reading.

[Featured Image via Christine Olson under CCL 2.0]

 

Scott Lively has an amazing conversion before-and-after conversion story that would put most Christians to shame.

At the age of 12, due to his struggle as the oldest child of a mentally ill dad, Lively became an alcoholic. At 16, his father got picked up from his home and taken to a mental hospital. It was at that moment, Lively claims, he was alone.

Barely graduating high school in 1976, Lively was addicted to alcohol and drugs for 16 years. He was lost; searching for something firm and dependable to grab onto. He went to all 48 continental states in a 25,000 mile+ search for it.

He claims he finally found it. In God. In his words:

On February 1, 1986 I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ on my knees by myself in an alcohol treatment facility in Portland, Oregon.  In an instant I was completely healed and delivered from my bondage and I felt the rush of the Holy Spirit through me.  It was a miracle which competely removed my desire for alcohol and drugs — something I had been unable to do for myself over several years of a desperate futile struggle to find some way to freedom.  I have never since had the slightest desire to go back.

I’ve heard similar stories. I’ve seen similar stories. It’s true that a wake-up realization about one’s life can happen, and a change in friends can happen, and someone can be changed — whether Christianity is involved or not. So yes, Scott Lively’s story is possible, whether or not it is completely true.

And Scott Lively cleaned his life up, he says. He started going to a bible-believing church. He began to get reconciled with his wife, who he was about to divorce. In his mind, he became a better husband and father.

Today, Scott Lively continues to live out his Christian life. In the words of the Religion News Service from a story written earlier this month:

The Rev. Scott Lively runs a Bible study four mornings a week at Holy Grounds Coffee House in Springfield, Mass. His Abiding Truth Ministries provides meals and movies for the homeless and hosts about 45 people at Sunday services.

Not only that — his faith has motivated him to acquire an J.D. and become a lawyer (specializing in International Law). While running not one, but two  law firms, he earned a Doctorate in Theology.  And, in 2014, he ran for Governor of Massachusetts on top of it all.

What a conversion story.

When someone asks me if religion is beautiful, this is the story they often think of. A reformed “sinner,” coming back to God, and enriching the lives of the homeless and his own family in the process, acquiring drive and conviction, and becoming a community leader.

There’s just…one more thing….

The 58-year-old Pentecostal pastor, husband and father of four is accused of persecuting LGBT people abroad, a crime against humanity under international law.

Most famously…you remember that “Kill the Gays” Uganda bill from a couple years back? Well…

A lawsuit by Sexual Minorities Uganda, an LGBT advocacy group, alleges that Lively conspired with Ugandan religious and political leaders since 2002 to strip gays of their rights in that country that has resulted in housing and employment discrimination, arrest, torture and the murder of gays and lesbians. The case, filed in 2012, is expected to go to trial early next year in a U.S. district court in Massachusetts. If convicted, Lively could face a fine….

Sexual Minorities Uganda and the Center for Constitutional Rights contend that Lively’s presentations in workshops in 2009 and 2012 influenced a 2013 Uganda law, which initially called for life in prison for people who engage in same-sex relations. Later the law was revised to also punish individuals or groups that support gays. After international outrage, the constitutional court in Uganda overturned the law in August 2014 on a technicality, but lawmakers have said they will revive the bill.

Critics say another proposed law, which seeks to restrict nonprofits from operating in Uganda, could also be used to outlaw groups working with LGBT people.

“The situation there is very fraught and perilous,” [Pam Spees, an attorney with the Center for Constitutional Rights, a New York-based nonprofit that is representing the Ugandan advocacy group in the case] said. “There are so many violations happening in Uganda, and people are suffering. This case is part of a larger effort to keep it from getting worse.”

Nor does this stop in Uganda — he has also influenced the policies of Russia:

After a 2007 visit to Russia, Lively urged that country to “criminalize the public advocacy of homosexuality.” Russia’s parliament unanimously passed a federal law banning the spreading of “propaganda of non-traditional sexual relations” to minors in June 2013. The law makes it illegal to distribute material on gay rights and calls for fines for individuals and media groups found guilty of breaking the law. It has spurred international outrage, especially during the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia.

“It’s one of the proudest achievements of my career,” Lively said of the law in 2013 on Bryan Fischer’s radio show, “Focal Point,” run by the American Family Association. During the interview, he called Russia’s anti-gay law “very, very good.”

But…he takes care of homeless people. And he’s a Family Man. And he is a Pastor.  And he found a way to put his life together — and then some — after 16 years of struggle. And…

He is one of the most dangerous people walking on the face of the earth today.

He’s due to go to trial near the beginning of 2016. Guess who’s representing him?

The case, filed in 2012, is expected to go to trial early next year in a U.S. district court in Massachusetts….

Lively is represented by Liberty Counsel, a Christian law firm that also represents Kim Davis, the Kentucky clerk who was recently jailed for her refusal to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples.

That’s right. Liberty Counsel — the hate group currently supporting Kim Davis.

And when it comes to Kim Davis herself, according to the Religion News Service, Lively complimented her “courage and commitment.”

Right. You know what takes “courage and commitment”? People who have to be in hiding from the laws Lively allegedly helped pass who, nevertheless, go on national television and speak against them.

Here’s the deal.

I know there are Christians on the far right who care about their families, who feel Jesus “saved” them, who have homeless ministries, who are seen as leaders in their community.  They are friends. They are family members I’ve known all my life.

But the views of that book on LGBT rights (and other things) are absolutely and thoroughly atrocious. And one of the greatest things we can do is stand up against it — in spite of the censure of the Christian right.  I’m not saying that they don’t have stories, too. But I am saying that, in places that have tremendous support for Kim Davis, Scott Lively, and even the encouragement of gay discrimination by the still-popular International House of Prayer, it’s important to speak up and try to change things. The “we take care of homeless people” defense isn’t good enough and rags-to-riches conversion stories aren’t nearly good enough.

Thanks for reading.