Losing My Religion
About 20 years ago or so, I went through a Born-Again phase. I blame society. My parents were free-thinking atheists, my aunts and uncles took every drug available, and my school observed appropriate seperation of Church and State. What the heck was I supposed to rebel against ? Like any teenager, I needed to define myself in opposition to authority, and there weren't a whole lot of options left.
In those days I was of a mystical bent and was very sincere in my desire to please God. Neither of my parental units found me remotely interesting, but maybe I'd be good enough for some other authority figure. Unfortunately, I didn't possess the requisite zeal for converting others to my religion, and noone was interested anyway. I spent a lot of afternoons picketing abortion clinics and trying to convince my aunt that Edgar Cayce was demon-possessed before I finally could admit that I just didn't believe it anymore. I didn't believe in Christianity's conviction that everyone needed to be controlled, converted or punished. I didn't particularly care about Jesus rising from the dead- good for him if it actually happened, but I wasn't going to Heaven anyway because I thought gays should get married and suffer just like everyone else. Most of all, I didn't believe that the homicidal God of the Bible was a good choice for anybody interested in maintaining mental health.
It figures- now that I'm more of the Secular Humanist/New Age Nutjob type, I'm working with a devout bunch of Jesus People. Fortunately, they are decent, professional types- only Penny suffers from compulsion to speak Christianese, and she still manages to be pleasant despite her conviction that I'm going to burn eternally in Hell. I refuse to say their prayer before they feed the kids, and they tactfully pretend not to notice. I get more respect here than I did at my politically-correct jobs where religion was never mentioned, which busts the stereotype that religious folk are incapable of tolerance. It's also a sad reality that some Humanists aren't as humane as the name implies. It all balances out in the end, I guess.
In those days I was of a mystical bent and was very sincere in my desire to please God. Neither of my parental units found me remotely interesting, but maybe I'd be good enough for some other authority figure. Unfortunately, I didn't possess the requisite zeal for converting others to my religion, and noone was interested anyway. I spent a lot of afternoons picketing abortion clinics and trying to convince my aunt that Edgar Cayce was demon-possessed before I finally could admit that I just didn't believe it anymore. I didn't believe in Christianity's conviction that everyone needed to be controlled, converted or punished. I didn't particularly care about Jesus rising from the dead- good for him if it actually happened, but I wasn't going to Heaven anyway because I thought gays should get married and suffer just like everyone else. Most of all, I didn't believe that the homicidal God of the Bible was a good choice for anybody interested in maintaining mental health.
It figures- now that I'm more of the Secular Humanist/New Age Nutjob type, I'm working with a devout bunch of Jesus People. Fortunately, they are decent, professional types- only Penny suffers from compulsion to speak Christianese, and she still manages to be pleasant despite her conviction that I'm going to burn eternally in Hell. I refuse to say their prayer before they feed the kids, and they tactfully pretend not to notice. I get more respect here than I did at my politically-correct jobs where religion was never mentioned, which busts the stereotype that religious folk are incapable of tolerance. It's also a sad reality that some Humanists aren't as humane as the name implies. It all balances out in the end, I guess.
posted by Fredrika Krueger at 8:39 PM
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