In honor of Easter, I have decided to answer all of those people who have asked me recently why it is that I am atheist/agnostic. It seems only fitting. Or horribly sacrilegious. Either way… I get so tired of the lip service paid to separation of church and state, while every conservative political candidate from here to Timbuktu spends 95% of their campaign hollering about how much they love the big imaginary guy upstairs. They hide behind H/him and attempt to take away a woman’s right to choose (both before and after conception), to deny loving same sex couples the right to express their love and commitment with wedding vows (and the accompanying legal rights), to teach our children that it’s ok to hate anybody who is different, as long as it’s in the name of their Jesus.
Where was your Jesus when my stepfather was diddling me ages 5-12? Where was your Jesus when I had to leave the hospital at age 15 without my infant son, whom I had been forced into giving up in an in family open adoption to drug addicts? Where was your Jesus during the following deep 3 year depression, during which “suicide” beat a steady staccato at the back of my teenage brain daily? Where was your Jesus when my brilliant, promising 23 year old brother in law was tragically killed, 6 hours after we told him he was going to be an uncle? Where was your Jesus when my father in law, easily one of the greatest men I have ever known, dropped dead of a heart attack with no warning while my druggie waste of space aunt, who has not been a productive member of society in more years than than Lady Gaga has outfits, has suffered at least two, and continues drinking and drugging to her (weakening) heart’s content?? Tsunamis, earthquakes, floods, fires… Where is your Jesus then? Hate, bigotry, inequality, greed. Too many believers hide behind their Jesus to perpetuate these ideals, so I guess I know where he is then.
Is your Jesus the one my angry, hateful stepmonster worshipped? The woman who told me I was nothing, and that neither she nor my dad wanted me? The woman who taught my 6 year old brother that it was ok to tell me that HE hated me and that he wished I’d go back to my mom’s because nobody at Dad’s wanted me? (Nevermind that I was living at Dad’s because my mother was still with the aforementioned kiddy-diddling stepfather.) The woman who made my home life such a hell that I literally vomited bile for months (at age 12) from a stress-induced ulcer? Does the fact that she managed to land her ever-widening ass in a pew every Sunday make it okay for her to have made me hate myself for years, because she hated me so?
Is your Jesus the one my married college debate professor spoke of from his pulpit every Sunday? Where was Jesus when he was seducing students while his wife recovered from undergoing skin cancer treatment? Where was Jesus when he molested his 17 year old foster daughter (you know, the one he met through the church he was a pastor at? the one he and his wife were “saving” from an abusive home?) in his office on campus?
Where was your Jesus when the minister of the Wesley Foundation (United Methodist College Ministries) at my college lied to the pastor of the church Chris had been a member of since birth and several board members in order to get Chris and I banned, simply because he, as a closeted homosexual, could not deal with his feelings of jealousy over the family we were being blessed with? Your Jesus allows people to be banned from places of worship based on lies and slander? (Did I mention this was AFTER a year and a half of my devoted service, serving free lunch to broke college kids, remodeling the Wesley House after massive flooding, participating and assisting in Bible studies and discussion groups, laying sod over the unkempt volleyball court, and running sound for the Wesley House band?) Vindication came too late when several of the board members he duped later figured out he was lying, far after they helped strip the faith from two 20 year olds with a brand new baby.
Is your Jesus the one who warped the warm, supportive father of two of my closest friends into a hate monger upon discovering his talented, amazing son was gay? The same man who not 5 years before had no problems with the idea of a MFF threesome? Is it only an abomination when it’s penis on penis, Jesus? Gay is gay, as far as I’m concerned. It makes me no never mind where you like to rub your jibbly bits, as long as you’re a decent human being.
These are simply personal anecdotes on why *I* personally don’t believe in Jesus, and why I won’t force my children to worship H/him. That’s to say nothing of the completely illogical mythology and circular reasoning involved in any religion, which is a topic for another post entirely. (Although I would suggest YouTubing Nate Phelps, atheist son of Westboro Baptist Church founder Fred Phelps if you’d like the gist.) Speaking of… Where is your Jesus when Westboro Baptist Church is using H/him to defile the funerals of men and women who gave their LIVES to make sure that all you have to bitch about is credit card debt and having to wait while your favorite TV show is on hiatus, instead of whether your 9 year old is going to be sold into sex slavery or your 5 year old being killed by an IED she thought was a teddy bear? I’m not saying you have to share my beliefs for us to be friends. Unlike Santorum or Romney, I welcome dissent, as long as you are respectful and well-reasoned.
I don’t need my imaginary friends to heal the sick, or give the blind sight. I just need them to be there when I need them. And I gotta be honest, your Jesus is a tad too inconsistent for my taste.