thedrifter
08-16-05, 07:01 AM
So What If I'm Not Religious?
August 15, 2005
by Burt Prelutsky
I am not a religious person. But unlike most atheists and agnostics, I am not anti- religion. It’s just not for me. I am unable to accept things on faith alone, and so far I haven’t found any need to. Some might point out that I can’t see gravity, either, and yet I accept its existence. That’s true enough. But that’s because I am aware of the force that keeps me from flying out into space, and I am not equally aware of the force of God. But even if I were, I would then have to select a religion that appealed to me more than any of the others. For heaven’s sake, I can’t even pick out a necktie.
I don’t look down my nose at believers. After all, what could be bad if their religion helps them to get through life; to cope with all the inevitable tragedies; to deal with their own mortality; and to find answers to those otherwise unanswerable questions, such as why were we born, is there an afterlife, and how is it that Will Ferrell has a movie career?
I understand the appeal of religion – the rites and traditions, the sense of community it instills, the clear path it provides for those seeking to live a decent life. At the same time, I realize that in the recent past, religion has gotten something of a black eye. Between the TV evangelists grubbing for money, the pedophile priests and the Islamic butchers, it would be easy to dismiss it all as so much hogwash. But even I, a devout non-believer, understand we’re just talking about human failings. It’s easy, too easy, to confuse individuals with the religion they espouse, but it’s really not fair. It would be like condemning the wonderful game of baseball just because some of the steroid-bloated players cheat.
What I find interesting is that whenever in the past I’ve written that I, a Jew, am not religiously observant, I do not hear from other Jews. Instead, I get a ton of e-mail from well-meaning Christians urging me to find Christ. Believe me, I am not resentful. The truth is, I am invariably touched by their concern. I even thank Jehovah’s Witnesses who show up at my front door. How can I possibly object to people showing so much sincere concern for the eternal soul of a perfect stranger? Better make that an imperfect stranger, I guess.
Frankly, I do not comprehend why so many people I know get angry with those who try to proselytize them. Are their convictions so fragile that they can’t bear up to legitimate questions? So long as the proselytizers aren’t Muslims wielding swords, why is it any worse having your religious beliefs questioned than having your political ones challenged? It seems to me that if you can’t make a good solid case for your faith, you don’t have a religion, you just have a habit.
On the other hand, I can’t figure out why people often become angry at the very idea that I reject religion. I’m sure that, to some, it’s worse than if I confessed to having committed a felony or knocked my wife around. It seems that no matter how exemplary your life may be, if you’re not a believer, the religiously intolerant have no use for you. It’s almost as if they suspect you’ve just been biding your time, acting as a mole for Satan, just waiting until the right time to show your true evil colors.
One question has always puzzled me about Jesus Christ, and, no, it doesn’t involve the miracles attributed to his birth or his death or any of the major and minor miracles in between. What I’ve always wondered about is the timing of his appearance. It’s not as if recorded history began when the Magi followed the star to Bethlehem. For thousands and thousands of years, man had existed on earth, keeping busy lusting, maiming, pillaging and murdering. So why, suddenly, do you suppose God decided one fine day to have a son? Considering that this was the same rather short-tempered deity who had destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt just for sneaking a peek, and cast Adam and Eve out of Paradise for breaking one little rule, it seems somewhat out of character.
I’m not out to offend good, God-fearing people, but does it really make any sense that if Hitler in his bunker had repented and accepted Christ, he could have gotten into Heaven, but a decent person who’s a good friend, a good parent, a good neighbor, but doesn’t accept Jesus as his savior, doesn’t?! The truth is, I wouldn’t even join a country club that had membership rules like that!
Burt Prelutsky
Ellie
August 15, 2005
by Burt Prelutsky
I am not a religious person. But unlike most atheists and agnostics, I am not anti- religion. It’s just not for me. I am unable to accept things on faith alone, and so far I haven’t found any need to. Some might point out that I can’t see gravity, either, and yet I accept its existence. That’s true enough. But that’s because I am aware of the force that keeps me from flying out into space, and I am not equally aware of the force of God. But even if I were, I would then have to select a religion that appealed to me more than any of the others. For heaven’s sake, I can’t even pick out a necktie.
I don’t look down my nose at believers. After all, what could be bad if their religion helps them to get through life; to cope with all the inevitable tragedies; to deal with their own mortality; and to find answers to those otherwise unanswerable questions, such as why were we born, is there an afterlife, and how is it that Will Ferrell has a movie career?
I understand the appeal of religion – the rites and traditions, the sense of community it instills, the clear path it provides for those seeking to live a decent life. At the same time, I realize that in the recent past, religion has gotten something of a black eye. Between the TV evangelists grubbing for money, the pedophile priests and the Islamic butchers, it would be easy to dismiss it all as so much hogwash. But even I, a devout non-believer, understand we’re just talking about human failings. It’s easy, too easy, to confuse individuals with the religion they espouse, but it’s really not fair. It would be like condemning the wonderful game of baseball just because some of the steroid-bloated players cheat.
What I find interesting is that whenever in the past I’ve written that I, a Jew, am not religiously observant, I do not hear from other Jews. Instead, I get a ton of e-mail from well-meaning Christians urging me to find Christ. Believe me, I am not resentful. The truth is, I am invariably touched by their concern. I even thank Jehovah’s Witnesses who show up at my front door. How can I possibly object to people showing so much sincere concern for the eternal soul of a perfect stranger? Better make that an imperfect stranger, I guess.
Frankly, I do not comprehend why so many people I know get angry with those who try to proselytize them. Are their convictions so fragile that they can’t bear up to legitimate questions? So long as the proselytizers aren’t Muslims wielding swords, why is it any worse having your religious beliefs questioned than having your political ones challenged? It seems to me that if you can’t make a good solid case for your faith, you don’t have a religion, you just have a habit.
On the other hand, I can’t figure out why people often become angry at the very idea that I reject religion. I’m sure that, to some, it’s worse than if I confessed to having committed a felony or knocked my wife around. It seems that no matter how exemplary your life may be, if you’re not a believer, the religiously intolerant have no use for you. It’s almost as if they suspect you’ve just been biding your time, acting as a mole for Satan, just waiting until the right time to show your true evil colors.
One question has always puzzled me about Jesus Christ, and, no, it doesn’t involve the miracles attributed to his birth or his death or any of the major and minor miracles in between. What I’ve always wondered about is the timing of his appearance. It’s not as if recorded history began when the Magi followed the star to Bethlehem. For thousands and thousands of years, man had existed on earth, keeping busy lusting, maiming, pillaging and murdering. So why, suddenly, do you suppose God decided one fine day to have a son? Considering that this was the same rather short-tempered deity who had destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt just for sneaking a peek, and cast Adam and Eve out of Paradise for breaking one little rule, it seems somewhat out of character.
I’m not out to offend good, God-fearing people, but does it really make any sense that if Hitler in his bunker had repented and accepted Christ, he could have gotten into Heaven, but a decent person who’s a good friend, a good parent, a good neighbor, but doesn’t accept Jesus as his savior, doesn’t?! The truth is, I wouldn’t even join a country club that had membership rules like that!
Burt Prelutsky
Ellie