A Parable

After a number of my friends and family expressed deep concerns over my leaving the faith, I have been thinking about how to communicate the need for all people to think critically, to investigate the evidence, and to accept the conclusions to which the evidence points. This, in a nutshell, is how I've not only become an atheist (practically, anyhow), but also how I've become more and more convinced of how wrongheaded Christianity's claims to exclusivism are. So, I thought this parable below might convey the point best:


One day, in a small town, someone murdered a well-known citizen (more after the jump...)

Seriously.

Right, so this post is just too fitting in light of the last one. I seriously received this email from my mom today, and I'm going to quote directly from it:

"As a Mom, I can't ignore your personal beliefs at this time. I will be careful not to send you too much 'preachy stuff' but I also will send an occasional statement that I feel is significant.  Your sister has reminded me that as hurt as Dad and I are, it is ultimately your decision, and we can't change what you say you believe.  However, as Mom, I will remind you that you are in my thoughts and prayers daily (please don't thank me for this...to me it seems sacrilegious on your part if you have no belief in my God).  [Note: I had thanked her for praying for me earlier, since I took it as a sign that she cared deeply about me.] I pray that my God will continue to use your Biblical studies to enlighten you.  I pray that God will use WHATEVER tools He needs to use to allow you and Jamie to see God again...even if that means extreme pain, suffering, hardships, to you, your wife, or even dad or I.  Up to now, you haven't had to experience too much suffering.  Are you willing for that to happen, if that is what it takes for you to remember God?  As great as our love is for you, it is small in comparison to God's love.  That's the sermonette for the day.  Many times I can express myself easier in writing than in talking.  And, not every e-mail and conversation will be a sermon, but I needed to let you know how we are handling things today.

I have been reading about David in both 2nd Samuel and in the Psalms and how he was 'a man committed to following God'...and how he frequently made poor choices.  However, God never gave up on him.  I know God will pursue you because He has a plan for the both of you, and you have been a man after God's heart."   

I had hoped to wait for a "views" milestone to open up comments, but this just seems too messed up not to allow people to comment.


I mean, at the end of the first paragraph here, she basically says: "I kind of hope God makes you suffer something horrible so you can remember how much he loves you. So come back to the church...or else." Yeah, that makes sense. So, would my wife getting cancer be a "sign" from God? Or would she have to die first? Even if that happened, how could I be sure it wasn't just a sign that this world was a place where shitty things like that happened all the time? Even to Christians!


Since leaving Christianity, I've seen more clearly what this kind of rhetoric is: an attempt, through shame or fear or threats, to make people conform. Never mind that this cuts against the Bible's central message of a god who would literally die for others rather than let them turn away. Somehow, I don't think, "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do," (Luke 23:35) matches well with "I hope you (or your loved ones) suffer so you'll be forced to run back to God."


Ugh.

How Do You Know?

One of the key problems that I now have with Christianity is what philosophers and theologians call "epistemology." Namely, I've grown increasingly uncomfortable with claims within Christianity (or any revealed religion) that certain people have come to possess knowledge of God and what God wants for humanity, while such knowledge remains inaccessible—in an immediate sense—to all others. A great example is the "conversion experience" of St. Paul on the Damascus Road (Acts 9:1-19), where Paul (then Saul) had a vision and heard a voice, and suddenly believed in the Christian message. Because of this experience, Christianity became for him an irrefutable truth. Were anyone to ask, "Paul, how do you know it's true?" He would simply have said, "Because I had a vision of Jesus. You can't argue with that, can you?" Thus, Paul held a religious trump card that, at the end of any argument, he could lay down to demonstrate his authority, his "rightness," or the veracity of his religious claims.


And this is what happens all the time. For example, when I was a Christian and came up against serious intellectual challenges to my faith, I could always fall back on that one stronghold: "Ok, there are some problems that aren't easily explained, but I know it's true because I've experienced X, Y, and Z!" Other Christians do this more frequently than I did, especially Christian fundamentalists who have more fronts to defend. Yet, for many non-Christians, such claims to certainty seem absurd, if not downright delusional.


So, I've now come to see this is a major problem, but I had no idea how close to home it would hit.