There are so many reasons I don’t believe in God – at least not the kind of ‘Christian God’ I keep being told to believe in. I believe there is something responsible for all of this, but I can’t get behind organized religion’s version of ‘God.’
And the funny part is that I want to believe. I actually admire people with blind faith. But for me, it’s like believing in Santa. Once I knew to know better, the blissful innocence was lost.
First, the Bible. A document translated thousands of times by thousands of men over thousands of years in every language short of Pig Latin.* If any given group of people can’t correctly execute a first-grade game of telephone, how on Earth would the Bible be a different situation?
Last, any omnipotent being would not let horrific things happen. TB wouldn’t have watched his dad die at 18. S wouldn’t be dying of cancer before she’s had a chance to live the second and third parts of her life. My mom wouldn’t be dying a horrible death lost in her own head. I certainly wouldn’t have been subjected to the abuse I was during most of my young life. And things like Sandy Hook and 9/11 and Hiroshima and child sex rings wouldn’t have happened.
And the generic ‘free will’ answer is horseshit. After a couple of decades of that nonsense, a good leader would step back in and say, ‘Yeah…we’re going to take this organization in another direction. Killers, rapists, and sociopaths report immediately to Lucifer. You’re fired.”
Instead of faking it through church’s God, I’ll just be a good person. That way, whomever I meet at the end of this road will be happy. For now, I’m just going to love the shit out of S and my mom – and everyone important to me – before they learn the truth about a higher power.
*I stand corrected. The Bible has been translated into Pig Latin.
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